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THIRTY-SEVENTH VOLUME.
TIfB LIFE OF OUR LIFE.
ROEHAMPTON :
PRINTED BY JAMES STANLEY
THE LIFE OF OUR LIFE.
PART TPIE SECOND.
THE PUBLIC LIFE OF OUR LORD
JESUS CHRIST.
V.
The Training of the Apostles,
(part II.)
[A// lights reserved.]
THE TRAINING OF THE
APOSTLES
(PART II.)
/"
HENRY JAMES COLERIDGE
OF THE SOCIETY OK JESLS
LONDON
BURNS AND GATES
GRANVILLE MANSIONS W
1882
AMISSA DRACHMA REGIO
RECONDITA EST iERARIO
ET GEMMA DETERSO LUTO
NITORE VINCIT SIDERA
JESU MEDELA VULNERUM
SPES UNA PCENITENTIUM
PER MAGDALENiE LACRYMAS
PECCATA NOSTRA DILUAS
PREFACE.
The subject-matter of the present volume of the Public
Life of our Lord is furnished by the narrative of the
Evangehsts relating to four or five summer months of
His Ministry in Galilee, in the second year of His
preaching. We find ourselves, in the opening chapter,
at the Pentecost of that second year, and the last
incident in the volume is a missionary circuit in that
part of the country, probably late in the autumn, shortly
after the first appearance in the Gospel history of the
illustrious penitent who is honoured in the Church as
St. Mary Magdalene. The scene of our Lord's labours
is in the country parts of Galilee, and, as far as we can
gather, He was only once or twice, and that for a short
time, in Capharnaum during these months. He did not
visit Jerusalem at all. The malignant opposition which
had been set on foot against Him after the Pasch of
this year, and which produced a coalition between the
Pharisees and the Herodians with the object of destroy-
ing Him, had much influence in determining that com-
parative retirement from great centres of authority or of
population by which this period is marked, and its effect
can be traced even in the teaching of our Lord at this
X Preface,
time. The persecution did not die away in consequence
of His gentle prudence in seeming to yield to it, and
we shall find it, at the beginning of the next volume,
breaking out with increased intensity of malice.
The chief occupation of our Lord at this time, beyond
His usual and unremitted exertions in preaching to the
people, was undoubtedly the training and the formation
of the Twelve' Apostles. At the beginning of this volume
we find Him selecting them, finally and formally, from
the general company of His disciples. This great act
of our Lord was followed by the delivery of the Sermon
on the Plain, which fills a considerable part of the
present volume, although it has not been necessary to
treat it at the same length with the Sermon on the
Mount, on which it is in the main founded. It may
either be considered in itself, as a monument of the
moral teaching which our Lord put forward at this
period of His Public Ministry, or it may be regarded
as a model which the Apostles might follow, in the
adaptation, to different audiences, of truths which had
already been taught, but which were too important not
to be repeated again and again.
Except the Sermon on the Plain, this volume contains
none of the greater documents in which our Lord's
teaching is drawn out at length by the Evangelists.
But the incidents of these few months, as far as they
remain to us, are full of surpassing interest. They
embrace the splendid miracles on the servant of the
Centurion and the son of the widow of Nairn. This
last miracle seems to have drawn forth from St. John
Preface, xi
Baptist, in his prison, that beautiful and ingenious
witness to our Lord which consisted in the mission of
some of his disciples with the significant question, ' Art
Thou He that art to come, or do we look for another ? '
and which our Lord answered by working a great
number of miracles of mercy in the presence of the
messengers. A cluster of incidents follows, which seem
naturally to hang together — such as the great witness
borne to St. John by our Lord Himself, His upbraiding
of the men of that generation for their treatment of
Himself and His Precursor, and His threatening pro-
phecies concerning the condemnation of Corozain,
Bethsaida, and Capharnaum. These, again, naturally
lead on to that rejoicing in spirit of our Lord, when He
broke out in thanksgiving to His Father for having
hidden the mysteries of the Kingdom from the wise
and prudent, and for having revealed them to little ones.
Then followed, as St. Matthew tells us. His declaration
that all things had been put into His hands by His
Father, and that most loving invitation to all who are
labouring and burthened to come to Him, to learn of
Him, to take His yoke upon them, and so to find rest
and refreshment to their souls.
The last three chapters of the present volume are
devoted to what may be considered the great typical
answer to this invitation of our Lord, on the part of the
blessed Magdalene. It is very suggestive indeed, with
regard to the perfect accuracy of the Evangelists, and
the manner in which their narratives fit in one to the
other, when arranged in a Harmony based on the true
xii Preface.
principles of such a work, to see that the natural place
of this incident, the account of which we owe to
St. Luke, is immediately after the invitation to the
labouring and burthened as related by St. Matthew.
St. Mary Magdalene closes the volume for us, as the
chief of the band of pious ladies, who now began to
devote themselves and their riches to the blessed work
of ministering to the temporal necessities of our Lord
and His companions.
Thus the present volume refers almost exclusively to
scenes of quiet, holy teaching, and a few magnificent
miracles. The calm is not broken by any disputations
with the Jewish Scribes, though our Lord may well be
thought to have had them, and their evil influence on
others, constantly in His mind. The beginning of the
next volume will open to us new manifestations of their
malignant hatred of our Lord, which had a still greater
effect on His conduct than the conspiracy with the
Herodians against His Ufe. The point at which the
exhaustion of the space allotted to one of these volumes
makes it necessary to stop, is therefore highly con-
venient, as it enables us to leave the generally happy
impressions of the narrative of these few months un-
broken by the incidents which so very sorely grieved
the Sacred Heart of our Lord.
H. J. C
London, Feast of St. Francis Xavicr, 1882.
CONTENTS.
Chapter I.
The Choosing of the Apostles.
St. Mark iii. 13 — 19 ; St. Luke vi. 12 —
16 ; Vita VitcB Nostrce, § 46.
Discouraging features in our
Lord's reception , . . i
Opposition to Him, and His
retirement .... 2
St. Matthew dwelling on the
prophecies .... 3
The bruised reed and smoking
flax . . • . . 4
Example of our Lord corres-
ponding to His precepts . 5
Consequences of the rejection
of St. John's baptism . . 6
Terrible crimes of our Lord's
enemies .... 7
The Divine Counsels worked
out by them ... 8
Apparent defeat of our Lord . 9
' The lesser glory of God ' . 10
Foundation of the Church
carried on . , . .10
The Apostles trained in ad-
versity . . . .11
Gospel accounts of the choos-
ing of the Apostles . . 12
Strict meaning of the Aposto-
Jate 13
In what sense it remains in
the Church .... 14
PAGE
Apostolate now founded in a
wider sense . . . .14
Multiplication of preachers . 15
Account of St. Mark and St.
Luke 16
Our Lord's prayer . . • 17
Selection and vocation of the
Twelve . . . .18
Chapter H.
First Outlines of the Apostolate.
St. Mark iii. 13 — 19 ; St. Luke vi. 12 —
16 ; Vita Vitce Nostrce, § 46.
Four purposes in the choice
of the Apostles . . .19
Great intimacy with our Lord 20
The lists of the Twelve . . 20
Traces of the religious life . 21
Peter, Andrew, Philip, Judas . 22
Personal intercourse of our
Lord with each . . .23
Their openness with Him . 25
Little said of this in the
Gospels . . . .26
Their immense advance in
grace 28
Our Lord as Director . . 29
Traditions of His method and
manner . . • .29
Hiddenness of our Lord's work 30
Character of the Christian
community . . . •Si
XIV
Contents,
St. Paul on the ' following * of
Christ 32
References in the Epistles . 33
Office of the Holy Ghost . 34
Daily increase of love in the
Apostles . . . .34
Their life thus explained . 35
Personal devotion to our Lord 36
Characters of single Apostles 38
Question as to Judas . . 39
He was like the others when
chosen . . . -39
Others might have fallen . 41
He was designed for a high
throne . . . -41
General question as to God's
foreknowledge . . . 42
Peculiar fitness of our Lord's
relations with Judas . . 43
Stability of our Lord's work
thus shown . . .44
Preeminence of God in for-
giving 45
Our Lord sharing the lot of
His servants . . .45
God bringing good out of evil 45
Beginnings of Judas . . 46
Chapter \\l.
The Office of the Preacher.
St. Mark iii. 13 — 19; St, Luke vi. 12 —
16 ; Vita Vitce Nostra, § 46.
The preaching office grows out
of union with our Lord . 48
Selection of this as the first
function . . . .49
Reasons for the preeminence
of preaching . . .50
St. Paul on preaching . . 51
* Foolishness of preaching ' . 52
Natural influence of the 52
spoken word . . .52
Modification by our Lord . 53
Oratory in the Apostolic age . 54
PAGE
Early spread of Christianity . 55
Preaching never neglected
without detriment . . 56
Results on the spiritua:l life . 57
Preaching may easily be under-
rated ..... 58
Danger to hearers . , .59
Danger to preachers . . 59
Necessity of union with our
Lord 60
Chapter IV.
Powers and Duties of the Apostles.
St. Matt. iii. 13 — 19; St. Luke vi. 12 —
16; Vita Vitce Nostra, § 46.
Twofold powers of the Apostles 62
Our Lord's miracles . . 63
Evidences and symbols of His
mission . . . .64
Fitness of the power in the
Apostles . . . .65
Miracles animated by the spirit
of mercy . . . .66
Instinct of the relief of suffering 66
Casting out devils . . .67
Constant warfare with Hell . 68
Chapter V.
The Sermon on the Plain.
St. Luke vi. 17 — 49 ; Vita Vita
Nostrce, § 47, 48, 49.
The two 'Sermons' of our
Lord 69
Independent report of St. Luke 70
Evidence of the Gospel history 71
Rise of the persecution of our
Lord 72
Effects on the people . . 73
Two-edged effect of preaching 74
Differences between the Ser-
mons 75
Object of the Sermon on the
Plain 76
New series of Beatitudes • 77
Contents.
XV
PAGE
Omissions in the Sermon on the
Plain 78
The four woes . • • 79
Further omissions . . .79
Our Lord returning to the
former Sermon . . .80
Almsdeeds, prayer, and fast-
ing passed by . . .81
Greater fulness of the second
Sermon . . . .81
Another amplification . . 82
Words used in a new connec-
tion 82
Conclusion of the second
Sermon . . . .83
Significance of the changes . 84
Difference of the audience . 85
Importance of the precept of
charity . . . .87
Example of our Lord in this
Sermon . ... 87
Chapter VL
The Blessings and the Woes.
St. Luke vi. 20 — 26 ; Vita VitcB Nostrce,
§47-
The scene in St. Luke .
89
The first Beatitude here given
91
Blessings of actual poverty .
92
Condition of the Apostles .
94
Blessing of ' hunger ' .
94
Blessing of ' weeping ' .
95
Material evils of life
96
Persecution ....
97
Jewish excommunication
98
Injunction to rejoice .
99
Observed by the Apostles .
100
Treatment of the prophets .
100
Special blessing of poverty .
102
The Father giving the King-
dom
103
Teaching of St. James .
103
Other special blessings .
104
The four woes
106
Danger of riches .
107
PAGE
Danger of fulness and laughter 1 08
Resting in temporal things . 109
The applause of men . .no
Chapter VII.
The Precept of Charity.
St. Luke vi. 27—38 ; Vita Vitce Nostm,
§48.
Our Lord addressing the
multitude . . . .112
What our Lord omits to them 113
Importance to all of alms-
giving . . . .114
Foundation of the precepts of
charity .... 116
Love for the sake of God . 116
Goodness of God in this
arrangement . . • u?
Love and faith . . .118
Particular injunctions of our
Lord . . . .120
Extent of the love of our
neighbour .... 121
Precept of love . . . 121
Exercise of patience . . 123
Exercise of mercy . . 125
Exercise of beneficence . 125
Explanation of the doctrine . 126
Why we are to love in this
way 127
Charity without hope of
reward . • • .129
Giving which brings us no-
thing 130
' The Sons of the Highest ' . 130
Imitation of God . . .131
In benefiting enemies . . 131
In blessing and benefiting
caluminators . . . 132
In unresisting charity . . I33
Our Lord's example as to this
precept . . . • ^34
God shows love sometimes in
chastisement . . . "^SS
Other laws modifying this . 13S
XVI
CoJitents.
PAGE
The pradent virgins . . 136
The petition of Zebedee's
children refused . .137
God's ways with prayer . 137
The love of God the motive . 138
What God may owe to us . 139
The mercifulness of God . 140
Commemorated in Scripture. 141
God always predisposed to
mercy .... 142
God rewards intentions and
desires . . . .143
God rewards beyond all
desert .... 144
How God deals with those
whom He punishes . . 145
He waits for and forewarns
the sinner . . . 146
He punishes less than we
deserve . . . .147
He forgives on easy condi-
tions 148
He gladly hears intercession 149
His mercifulness in the next
world . . . .150
Application of the satisfaction
of the Saints . . . 151
His mercy in Purgatory . 152
He allows sufferings here to
count as expiation , . 153
How we may imitate Him . 154
Chapter VHI.
Measure for Measure.
St. Luke vi. 37, 38 ; Vita Vita Nostrce,
§48.
Explanation of the four follow-
ing precepts . . . 156
•Judge not' . . . .157
' Condemn not ' . . , 158
Promise added to the precept 159
* Forgive, and it shall be for-
given' .... 160
• Give, and it shall be given ' 161
PAGE
Two series of precepts . . 161
Measure for measure . . 163
Importance of this rule. . 164
Impersonal form of language 165
Pleasure of the Sacred Heart 166
Provision for human happi-
ness 167
An answer to objections . 169
Measure for measure in Pro-
vidence . . . .170
Instances of the operation of
this law .... 172
Forgiveness of injuries . . 172
Comments of the Fathers . 174
Three considerations . . 175
Others added . . . 176
Chapter IX,
Blind Guides and Careless
Hearers.
St. Luke vi. 39 — 45 ; Vita VitaNostrce,
§ 49-
Further differences between
the two Sermons . . 178
Different classes addressed . 179
Different applications . .180
The blind guides . . .181
First reference to Jewish
teachers .... 182
Disciples and masters . .184
Principle laid down by our
Lord .... 185
Motes and beams . . . 186
The Scribes and Pharisees . 187
Our Lord's way of speaking
of them .... 188
Trees and fruits . . . 189
The treasure of the heart . 190
Revelation of the heart in
conduct . . . . ' 191
The words general . . 193
Conclusion of the Sermon on
the Plain .... 193
Contents.
xvu
Chapter X.
The Centurion s Servant.
St. Matt. vii. 5 — 13; St. Luke vii. i —
10 ; Vita Vitce Nostrce, § 50.
Order of events . . -19
Our Lord on His missionary
circuits .... 197
Our Lord again at Caphar-
naum .... 198
The Centurion and his serv^ant 199
The Jews of Caphamaum . 200
Virtue of the Centurion . 201
His acquaintance with the
Jewish rehgion . . . 202
The nobleman of Caphar-
naum .... 203
St. Matthew and St. Luke . 204
' Lord, trouble not Thyself ' 205
A man under authority . . 206
Faith of the Centurion . , 206
Not found in Israel . . 208
The Centurion at our Lord's
feet 209
Prophecy of our Lord . .210
The law of substitution . 211
' Weeping and gnashing of
teeth' .... 212
The Gentiles and the King-
dom 213
The two accounts of the inci-
dent 214
Tradition about the Centurion 215
' Domine, non sum dignus ' . 216
Chapter XI.
Our Lord's Brethren.
St. Mark iii.20 — 21 ; Vita Vitce Nostrce,
§51.
Incident about our Lord's
family .... 218
The ' Brethren ' . . .219
Their deep natural affection
for Him .... 220
Their position with the people 221
PAGE
Fear for our Lord's safety . 222
St. Mark . . . .223
Our Lord's answer unre-
corded .... 224
Subsequent history of the
Brethren . . . .225
Chapter XII.
The Raising of the Widows Son.
St. Luke vii. 11 — 16; Vita Vita
Nostra, § 51.
Our Lord's visit to Caphar-
naum .... 227
His return to His missionary
work 228
Incident of a raising from the
dead . . . .228
Miracles of the Prophets . 229
Selection of the circumstances
of the miracle . . . 230
Scene at Nairn . . . 231
Multitudes present . . 232
* Weep not ' . . . • 233
' I say to thee, Arise ! ' . . 234
'He gave him to his mother' 235
Remembrance of our Blessed
Lady . . • .236
Elias and Eliseus . . .237
Mystical meaning of the
miracle . . . .238
Result of the miracle . . 240
The great prophet . . 242
The tidings widely spread . 243
Chapter XIII.
Last Witness of St. John Baptist.
St. Matt. xi. 2—6 ; St. Luke vii. 17—23 ;
Vita Vita Nostra, § 52.
News taken to St. John . 244
St. John in prison . . 245
Watching our Lord's pro-
gress . . . .246
Effect of the opposition to
Him . . . -247
Slowness of belief . . 248
XVlll
Contents,
PAGE
The Father's IJrovidence . 248
Arrangement of evidences . 249
St. John and the ' works of
Christ ' . . . . 253
Message of St. John . . 252
The evidence of miracles . 253
Our Lord's answer . . 254
Miracles .... 254
Reference to prophecy . . 255
Words of Isaias . . . 256
' He that is to come ' . . 257
System of our Lord . . 258
The Gospel preached to the
poor 259
Danger of taking scandal . 260
Chapter XIV.
Our Lord 's witness to St. John
Baptist.
St. Matt. xi. 7—19 ; St. Luke vii. 24, 25;
Vita VitcE N OS tree, § 53.
Return of St. John's disciples 262
Our Lord witnessing to St.
John 263
Another reason sometimes
given .... 264
' What went ye out to see ? ' 265
Eulogy on St. John . . 266
His prerogatives . . . 267
St. John the subject of pro-
phecy . . . .268
Special object of his mission 268
The children of women . 269
The lesser in the Kingdom of
Heaven .... 270
Greatness of the Gospel
Kingdom .... 271
The preaching of the King-
dom ..... 273
The Kingdom of Heaven
suffering violence . . 274
The Prophets and the Law . 275
' Elias that is to come ' . 276
Fulfilment of prophecy in
St. John .... 277
PAGE
Different classes in the nation 278
The people and the Pharisees 280
Chapter XV.
The Children in the Market-
place.
St. Matt. xi. 15 — 19 ; St. Luke vii. 29, 30;
Vita VitcB Nostm, § 53.
' The children in the market-
place ' . . . . 282
Meaning of the image . . 283
Interpretation of Theophylact 284
St. John and our Lord . . 285
Both objected to . . . 286
Means chosen by God . . 287
The Church following our
Lord . . . .288
Contradictory fault-finding . 289
Concluding words of our
Lord .... 290
Wisdom justified by her chil-
dren 291
Chapter XVI.
Corozain and Bethsaida.
St. Matt. xi. 20 — 24 ; Vita Vitee Nostra,
§54.
Cities in which our Lord had
preached • . . .
Revelation of men's thoughts
No mention of our Lord's
teaching in Corozain or
Bethsaida .
Great responsibilities of those
who receive Divine bless-
ings ....
Tyre and Sidon .
Capharnaum and Sodom
Sins of the intelligence .
Transient privileges of these
cities ....
Immense value of grace
293
294
295
296
297
297
298
299
300
Contents.
XIX
Chapter XVII.
Rejoicing of the Sacred Heart.
St, Matt. xi. 22—30; Vita VitcB Nostra,
§ 54.
Our Lord rejoicing . . 301
Place of this incident . . 302
St. Matthew and St. Luke . 303
Words of our Lord . . 304
God called His Father . . 304
Lord of Heaven and Earth . 305
Hiding and revealing . . 305
The Scribes and Pharisees . 306
Senses of the words . . 306
Justice and Mercy . . 307
Vindication of our Lord's
honour .... 308
The Father's will . . . 309
Providence an exercise of will 310
All things delivered to our Lord 311
He is made the Saviour . 312
His submission to His
Father's will . . . 312
Knowledge of the Father and
the Son .... 313
The Father made known by
the Son .... 314
The passage continuous . 315
Necessity of self-knowledge . 316
Contrast between the two dis-
pensations . . .317
Chapter XVIII.
Sweetness of our Lord's yoke.
St. Matt.xi. 28—30; Vita Vitce Nostra,
§54.
Those who labour and are
burthened . . . •319
Passage in Ecclesiasticus . 320
Anxieties of life . . .321
Corporal miseries . . .321
Intellectual miseries . . 322
Mischief of opposition to the
Church . . . .323
Mental and moral slavery . 324
Heathenism and imperfect
forms of Christianity . . 325
Hard doctrines >
Consciousness of sin
Witness of the enemies of the
faith . .
Burthen of undiscovered crime
Physical evils of life
Miseries caused by man
Light the beginning of rehef
How our Lord relieves these
burthens ....
Intellectual troubles — by faith
' Come to Me ' — ' Learn of
Me' .
Two interpretations
The commandments in the
Psalms
Our Lord's own Presence
Rest and refreshment .
Light yoke on the intelligence
Easiness of 'new' doctrines
System of doctrines
Accumulation of evidence
Moral obligation .
Satisfaction of conscience
Help of a perfect example
New light shed on virtue
Immense forces added .
The old yoke and the new
External obligations
New obligations — confession
of sins
Advantages of confession in
itself ....
Unity and indissolubility of
marriage .
Connection of laws with
sacraments
PAGE
326
32-
328
330
331
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
337
337
338
339
339
340
341
342
343
343
344
344
345
346
347
Chapter XIX.
The Cojnitig of Magdalene.
St. Luke vi. 36—50 ; Vita Vita Nostra,
§55-
Order of events . . . 348
Beautiful correspondence be-
tween St. Matthew and St.
Luke . . . .349
XX
Contents,
PAGE
Scene of incident . . . 350
Former history of Magdalene 351
Deliverance from seven devils 352
She was now a penitent . 353
Contemplation of her con-
version . . . -353
She was a lonely soul . . 354
Her gratitude to our Lord . 355
She came simply as a sinner 356
Opinions as to her sins . . 357
Probable conclusion . . 358
Her entrance . . . 358
Appropriateness of her action 359
The washing and anointing , 360
Thoughts of those present . 361
Simon the Pharisee . . 361
What passed in his mind , 362
Chapter XX.
The Pardon of Magdalene.
St. Luke vi. 36—50 ; Vita Vit<e Nostrce,
§55.
Our Lord speaking to Simon
Turning to Magdalene .
' Her sins are forgiven her' .
Meaning of our Lord's words
Our Lord speaking to Mag-
dalene ...
Different explanations .
Scriptural meaning of remis
sion of sins
Meaning in the Church
In the New Testament .
St. Augustine, St. Ambrose,
St. Gregory
Other interpretations .
She was already in charity
Immense growth in grace
Our Lord's purpose
She was to break with the
world ,
Her action corresponding to
her faults .
Public reparation
Satisfaction before absolution
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
372
373
374
375
376
376
378
379
379
380
381
PAGE
Our Lord defending the
attacked .... 382
Courtesy of His words to
Simon .... 383
Chapter XXI.
The first work of Magdalene.
St. Luke viii. i — 3 ; Vita Vitce Nosiree,
§ 55.
Magdalene and her com-
panions ....
Reasons for the organization
The ladies waiting on our
Lord
Their other occupations
Examples in the life of the
Apostles .
Conduct of St. Paul .
Another stage in the life of
Magdalene
Her work a continuation of
the anointing
Example followed in all ages
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
390
391
Appendix.
Harmony of the Gospels.
§ 46. Choice of the Twelve
Apostles .
§ 47. The Sermon on the Plain
{Part the First)
§ 48. The Sermon on the Plain
(Part the Second) .
§49. TheSermon on the Plain
(Part the Third)
§ 50, The Centurion's servant
§ 51. The Widow's son raised
§ 52. The disciples of St. John
sent to our Lord
§ 53. Our Lord's last witness
to St, John
§ 54. The proud condemned
and the humble chosen
§ 55. Mary Magdalene comes
to our Lord
392
392
393
394
395
396
396
397
399
399
CHAPTER I.
The Choosing of the Apostles.
St. Mark iii. 13 — 19 ; St. Luke vi. 12 — 16 ; Vila Vitcs Nosfrce, § 46.
The period of our Lord's preaching at which we have
now arrived, was marked by many external features which
might have appeared discouraging in the highest degree
to many who were disposed to befriend the new King-
dom. It was now certain that, unless some sudden and
entire change came over the minds of the ruHng class
among the Jews, our Lord and His religion would find
no considerable favour at their hands. Twice had He
presented Himself at Jerusalem, on two successive feasts
of the Pasch, to claim, as it might have seemed, the
allegiance and the adhesion of the chief priests and
learned men of the nation. On each of these occasions
He had displayed His miraculous powers in great and
striking abundance, as the Divine warrant for the mission
which He had received. On the second occasion, indeed,
He had done more than this. If His miracles were, on
that second feast, less numerous than on the former,
He had come to Jerusalem with the reports of His
mighty deeds, wrought during the past year in Galilee,
ringing in the air. It was impossible that a sensation
like that which He had produced in that distant, but
most important, province, should not be communicated
by the Galilean worshippers to the rest of the people. But
our Lord had gone beyond that silent demonstration of
His Divine mission which was contained in His miracles.
B 36
2 The Choosing of the Apostles.
He had chosen to work a miracle in such a manner as
to draw the attention of the authorities to the powers
which He exercised, and He had used the attention
which He had thus aroused, for the purpose of laying
before the highest ecclesiastical personages themselves a
long and deeply reasoned statement of the various
methods employed by the Providence of His Divine
Father to point Him out as One invested with a Divine
mission. One after another He had laid before them,
in the great discourse of which St. John has given us a
summary, the links of that mighty chain of testimonies
which the loving Providence of God had woven for the
sake of winning to Him their faith and obedience.
This time again, as the year before, the issue had been
most discouraging. The conversion of the Jewish authori-
ties seemed more and more impossible. On the first
occasion of His appearance at Jerusalem, it had been a
part of the Divine counsel that our Lord should startle
them, if not, as is very probable, wound them in their
material interests, by His severe purgation of the Temple
of His Father from the traffic which they encouraged
and profited by. On the second of the Paschs included
in the four years of His Ministry, He divulged His right
not simply to cleanse the Temple from its abuses, but to
exercise the supreme authority which belonged to Him
as the Son of Man, the Incarnate God, as the Lord of
the Sabbath-day. Nothing more was required to make
them His enemies. They fastened on this action of our
Lord's, and on the occasion which it afforded them, of
resting their jealous opposition to Him on His supposed
violation of the most religious traditions of the holy-
nation. A second time our Lord was compelled, by His
own gentle consideration for hearts which might have
become still harder by His presence amongst them, to
retire from Jerusalem and its neighbourhood, not simply
The Choosing of the Apostles. 3
rejected by its rulers, but even an object of hatred and
persecution at their hands. Other miracles had followed,
which furnished the same pretext to their animosity.
The end had been His retirement to a great extent from
the public eye, at least in the greater towns which had
become familiarized with His presence, and in which so
many of His most famous miracles had been ^vrought.
His enemies, divided as they were among themselves in
their policy, their aims, their religious opinions and pro-
fessions, still found, in their common hatred of our Lord,
a bond of union which for the moment brought them
together. The strictest devotees of the Law and the
licentious politicians of the Court of Herod were thus
linked together in an unholy alliance, the measures of
Afhich wore a moral aspect, combining the worst features
of each of these combined parties. The result of the
coalition, as it would now be termed, was the determina-
tion to bring about nothing less than the death of our
Lord.
The line of conduct adopted by our Lord in conse-
quence of the opposition thus created to His teaching by
the malice of the Jewish authorities, and their league with
the party of Herod, is dwelt upon by the first Evangelist
in his characteristic manner. All through his Gospel, and
especially in its earlier portions, St Matthew is con-
stantly presenting to us, one after another, the fulfilments
of prophecy which he had observed in our Lord's Hfe
and history. These fulfilments are often, as in the case
now before us, not so much correspondences consisting
in single facts, such as the birth of our Lord at Bethle-
hem, or His conception of a pure Virgin, as general
characteristics, which might be gathered from the
prophecies concerning the Messias, such as, perhaps,
the prediction that He should be called a Nazarene/
1 St. Matt. ii. 23.
4 The Choosing of the Apostles.
or that which fixed on Galilee as the first scene of His
preaching.- On more than one occasion, as in the
synagogue at Nazareth at the opening of His preaching,
and again, on the occasion of the mission to Him of the
disciples of St. John Baptist, our Lord Himself used this
kind of general correspondence between the prophecies
and His own mission, as an argument for the Divinity of
that mission. In the present case, it is the gentle
retiring, condescending character of the Servant of God^
as traced in the prophecy of Isaias, and especially His
tender consideration for the weaknesses of souls, as
represented in the images of the bruised reed and the
smoking flax, on which St. Matthew fastens. Something
has been said of this in the preceding volume, and we
may feel certain that a characteristic which finds speciat
mention in the first Gospel was a feature in our Lord's
method and conduct on which the early Christian
teachers would insist, both in the Church of Jerusalem
and elsewhere, wherever the Evangelical teaching was
addressed to audiences consisting in the main of Jews or
others familiar with the Scriptures. One of the great
difficulties of such hearers would certainly be the appar-
ent failure of our Lord with the holy nation, the weak-
ness and obscurity which had marked His coming, and
the manner in which the powers which were so mightily
and so freely exercised in miracles of mercy, seemed to
shrink to nothing when there was an occasion of their
use in a manner which might have struck terror into His
enemies, and carried Him by force, and against the
utmost resistance that could be opposed to Him, to the
throne of His Father David. As we find in the Gospel
history that even the Apostles thought at times that it
might be well to call dow^n fire from heaven, merely to
punish a town which would not give Him and them hos-
f St. Matt. iv. 14, 15.
The Choosing of the Apostles, 5
pitality, the thoughts of many among the earliest listeners
to the Gospel teaching may well have been kindred to
those of the Sons of Thunder.
This line of conduct, moreover, was strictly in keep-
ing with the direct precept of our Lord as given, a little
later than this, to His Apostles, and through His Apostles,
to the Church of all ages. He was to enjoin on them
that, when persecuted in one city, they were to fly to
another, rather than remain and fight out the battle
against persecution at the cost and risk of their lives. It
would not be only that their lives were in danger in such
cases, but that the work which they had to do did not
admit of delay, their time was immensely precious, and
was not to be wasted on populations whose hearts were
hardened against them. No doubt a minister of the
Gospel fixed by authority in a certain place, is not to
leave his post because the soil is ungrateful and hard to
till. But the Apostolical office differs in this from that
of the appointed shepherds of smaller flocks. The re-
ception of the message of the Gospel requires willing
hearts, and its chances are sometimes even delayed by
the persistent forcing of the truth on those who are steeled
against it. And, above all, the time for this ministry is
short, and must be spent to the best advantage. Thus,
in this case also, our Lord began, to use the language of
St. Luke, to do before He began to teach. His teaching
by example went before His teaching by word of mouth,
and both were to be the consolation of hundreds of
Apostolic labourers in all ages. St. Paul may often have
dwelt on this precept of our Lord, when he had to retire
from city after city, in order not to irritate to the utmost
the enmity of his Judaizing opponents, men who had in-
herited the spirit of these Pharisees and Herodians before
whom our Lord withdrew into comparative privacy.
The whole history and attitude of these Jewish rulers,
6 The Choosing of the Apostles.
whose hostility produced the change in our Lord's method
on which we are now dweUing, has more than one aspect
on which Christian thought may profitably dwell. Their
line of conduct, as St. Luke tells us,^ was virtually deter-
mined, even before our Lord came to preach among
them. It had been determined by their failure to under-
stand and, consequently, to close with, the merciful over-
ture of grace made to them in the ministry of St. John
Baptist. From that moment, the Jewish nation began to
divide itself into two great sections, the one of which
was to submit to the Gospel Kingdom, while the other
was to oppose that Kingdom to their uttermost. The
rejection of our Lord's teaching was involved in the
practical rejection of that of St. John. The acceptance
of the preaching of penance involved the acceptance of
the whole Gospel system to which that preaching was the
Divinely ordained introduction. It seemed a matter of
slight moment whether the Jewish priests and rulers
went out or not to be baptized in the Jordan, confessing
their sins. This confession of sins and the baptism
administered by St. John could not be considered,
in a strict sense of the words, obligatory and necessar>^
to salvation. They were obligatory and necessary in
the sense that the acceptance of the good counsels,
framed by God for the salvation of the world, or
of individuals, are obligator}- as a condition of that
salvation. The obligation came from this, that it
was in that manner that God, in His merciful wisdom,
designed to bring men to the dispositions proper for the
reception of the graces of the Gospel, and to assist them
by His powerful aid, after these dispositions had been
formed in them, to become docile disciples of the
teaching of our Lord and His Apostles. In this way
thousands of souls are continually lost, for not availing
3 St. Luke vii. 30,
The Choosing of the Apostles. 7
themselves of the opportunities of grace which God in
His Providence offers them, although it may be hard
to say, as to any one particular opportunity, that it is in
itself a mortal sin to turn away from it.
Moreover, the case of these men illustrates, with fear-
ful clearness, another truth which belongs to the same
subject, namely, the truth that men cannot remain
neutral as to the acceptance of Divine favours, when
they are largely offered, but are obliged, by an inevitable
necessity, to take their part, either against these favours
or for them, and, if not for them, then against them.
Within a very short time those who had turned away from
the austere preacher in the desert, who claimed to be
nothing more than a voice, and a witness to Another,
greater than himself. Who was to come immediately after
him, found themselves under the necessity of rejecting
the whole series of Divine evidences by which the mission
of our Lord was attested. They found themselves forced
to deny the most clear fulfilments of prophecy, and to
refuse the witness of the most magnificent miracles. But
this was as nothing to what soon followed. Their head-
long course could not stop short till it had plunged them
in the lowest depths. They were under the necessity of
bringing about a judicial murder, which would have been
a crime of the blackest atrocity, even if it had not been
deicide itself, the murder of the Incarnate God. To
bring about this murder, they were forced to stain their
priestly and religious character by the bribery of a traitor,,
by the subornation of false witnesses, by using the most
sacred forms of justice which the world had ever known,,
as the instruments of their malice and envy, by lying ta
the Roman Governor, by fawning upon the blood-stained
and incestuous Herod, by canvassing the multitude ta
ask for the release of Barabbas, in order to prevent that
of our Lord. And beyond this enormous heap of crime.
8 The Choosing of the Apostles,
which they virtually drew on themselves, when they
turned from our Lord at His first preaching in Jerusalem,
there lay, in the not distant future, the reprobation of the
holy nation which God had chosen out of all the races of
men to make His own, the horrors of the final struggle
for life with the armies of Rome, the destruction of their
city and of the Temple of God, under circumstances of
atrocity and calamity to which history can present no
parallel, and the dispersion of the people over the whole
face of the earth with a brand upon them like that of
Cain. All these swift and unexampled chastisements
were brought upon the nation by a few men who, per-
haps, if they had lived but one generation earlier in the
annals of the race, might have left behind them blameless
names, even if they had not been reckoned among the
lights of the Synagogue. At the outside, they were but the
dominant class in a large community. Nowhere, in His
dealings with men, has God so strongly marked the truth
that, in His providential government of the world, He
makes the lots of peoples and nations depend on the
conduct of their rulers and responsible leaders, and that
the national crimes of which the guilt thus rises up before
Him are often made the occasions of the most terrible of
all the exertions of His avenging justice.
And yet, like all the enemies of God in the history of
the human race, these miserable men, Annas and Caiaphas
and their associates, were but serving the Divine purposes
while they were fighting against the Divine mercies. It
was not in the counsels of Providence that the Church of
Jesus Christ should grow by a seemingly natural process
of development, out of the Mosaic system, as that system
was visibly represented to the world by the hierarchy
which ruled and the rites which prevailed at Jerusalem.
The Gospel was to be the fulfilment of the Law, and not
a jot or tittle even of the Levitical observances of the
The Choosing of the Apostles. 9
Temple but corresponded to something in the Christian
system into which these observances were to be trans-
figured. But still there was to be a breach of visible
continuity between the Synagogue and the Church.
Many Divine purposes were to be served by the absolute
independence of the Church from the Synagogue. We
see the influence of this Providential design in our Lord's
own deliberate action with regard to many things which
were dear to the most religious among the Jews, such as
the enforcement of external austerities, fasting and the
like, and notably, the manner in which the Sabbath was
to be observed. Human prudence and policy might have
counselled Him, at least to forbear from the public
assertion of His rights as Lord of the Sabbath, and yet
He did this apparently impolitic thing in the face of the
authorities at Jerusalem on the occasion of a great public
feast. He would not have His system a patchwork of
old cloth and new. He would not pour the new wine of
the Gospel into the old skins. We are not able to pene-
trate all the secrets of His Divine wisdom and prudence
in this line of action. But we can at least see, looking
no further in the history of the Church than those few
years, the events of which fill the Acts of the Apostles,
that the Jewish element in the Christian community
might have been strengthened in a manner which would
have made the work of St. Peter and St. Paul, in the
admission of the Gentiles and the establishment of their
absolute liberty from the Old Law, difficult indeed, if the
chief priests and rulers of Jerusalem had flocked into the
Church instead of being her bitterest persecutors.
To the outward eye, therefore, and to the outward eye
alone, was the enforced retirement of our Lord before
His enemies any indication of true defeat. Defeat in-
deed, and the most ignominous of deaths, were to be His
lot at the hands of these His enemies, who were to seem
lo The Choosing of the Apostles.
to triumph at the very moment when they were bringing
about His greatest elevation and the consummation of the
work which He had come into the world to do. And,
no doubt, Satan and his evil angels had rejoiced in our
Lord's rejection by the ecclesiastical rulers, even before it
had led to any results greater than the cessation of His
public preaching in many of the places where He had
been most successful, and where large masses of the
people had become devoted to Him. This retirement of
our Lord involved a silencing, in many centres of life and
and thought, of the voice of Him Who spoke as never
man spake. It involved a stoppage of the stream of
conversions, it left men in darkness and the shadow of
death as to their moral state, the glorious light no longer
shone, the chains of sin remained riveted where they might
have been loosened, and it was a gain to the enemies of
the human race that the series of marvellous miracles of
mercy should pause, and that their own possession of
human souls and bodies should in so many cases be left
undisturbed. Many a seed, already sown, would wither
away from want of watering, many another would be
choked by worldly cares as by thorns, and the fowls of the
air, as our Lord described them, would be free to snatch
away many more seeds before they had been assimilated
to the soil on which they had fallen. The ' lesser glory
of God ' is almost as dear to Satan as the accomplish-
ment of his own schemes of actual dishonour to God.
But God has many ways of compensating Himself when
He seems to be thwarted, and of carrying out His own
designs by means of the very measures which His enemies
invent for His defeat.
In the present case, the retirement of our Lord was
used by Him as the best possible opportunity for the
carrying out the work of the foundation of the Church.
Just as He had spent so many years in the utmost fruit-
The Choosing of the Apostles. 1 1
fulness of work in the sight of Heaven, while He seemed
outwardly to be doing almost nothing at Nazareth, in
building up by constant intercourse and tenderest com-
munion with Mary and Joseph the stupendous sanctity
which, after His own most perfect obedience, was to fur-
nish the greatest earthly glory to His Father, so now
He was laying deep the foundations of the Church in the
training of His Apostles, Peter and John and the rest, for
the lofty office for which He intended them. It is quite
easy to see that, whatever might have been the effect on
the people at large, if the new Kingdom had been wel-
comed with joy by the rulers of Jerusalem, if the Temple
had been surrendered, so to speak, to its rightful Lord,
and if the sons of Aaron and Levi had thrown them.-
selves in homage at His feet, at least the formation of the
future Apostles required the sharp air of adversity, of
hardship, of persecution, of dangers of every sort, if they
were to be fitted thereby for their work in the world.
According to the great laws which rule the spiritual
kingdom, it would be as strange and abnormal a thing
to attempt to form the novices of a religious order under
a system from which all exercises and opportunities of
humiliation and self-conquest were carefully excluded, as
to endeavour to train Apostles in the midst of the applause
and admiration of the world. The time in our Lord's
life with which we are now dealing was, in a certain most
true sense, the novitiate of the Apostles, and the circum-
stances under which they had now to follow Him, in
humiliation and hardship and danger, were just those
chosen by God as most fitted for the work which our
Lord had now in hand. Thus it is that we come to see,
in this arrangement also, the beautiful order in which all
the successive periods of our Lord's life were marshalled,
and we understand how it was that the formal vocation
of the Twelve to the Apostolate took place, just at the
1 2 The Choosing of the Apostles.
time when our Lord seemed driven, by the maUce of His
enemies, to abandon some considerable part of the field
in which He had hitherto laboured in Galilee.
We have two accounts in the Gospels of the formation
of the Apostolic body. St. Mark dwells on the absolute
authority exercised by our Lord in the choice which He
now made. * Going up into a mountain, He called unto
Him whom He would Himself, and they came to Him.'
St. Luke, in his usual manner, points to the preparation
made by our Lord for this solemn selection. ' It came
to pass in these days, that He went up into a mountain
to pray, and He passed the whole night in the prayer of
God.' It cannot be doubted that our Lord usually spent
the nights in prayer and communion with His Father,
and thus the purpose of St. Luke must be not so much
to notice any deviation in our Lord from His custom in
this respect, as if it had been a singular thing for Him so
to pass the night, as to direct attention to the solemnity
and importance of the occasion which was ushered in by
a special dedication by our Lord of the prayer of the
night to one particular object. There are but few occa-
sions on which this special mention is made, of our Lord
passing the night in prayer, and it seems always intended
that we should understand that what followed or preceded
the prayer, was a matter of the greatest moment in His
Kingdom.
Certainly, no step which our Lord had as yet taken
could be considered a%more momentous than this of the
institution of the Apostolate. The action of our Lord of
which we are now speaking, was nothing less than this in
His own Sacred Heart, although it may be quite true to
say that He did not at this moment unfold to the
Apostles themselves the whole of their great commission,
as it was afterwards made known to them before His
Ascension, and that He did not at once endow them
The Choosing of the Apostles, 1 3
with all the powers which that commission involved.
We may say here a few words, by way of general expla-
nation of the Apostolate as it is set before us in the
theology of the Catholic Church, without implying that
at this moment it was established formally as it was after-
wards to exist. In the strictest sense, then, the Apostles
were commissioned to be the preordained witnesses to
the Resurrection of our Lord, the great fundamental
truth of the Christian religion ; not that they were ocular
witnesses of the Resurrection itself, but that they were
such witnesses to the fact that He Whom they had
known before was again alive after His Passion and
Death. The Apostles were also the immediate recipients
of the complete revelation from our Lord and the Holy
Ghost. They were to be the original promulgators of
this revelation, confirmed and inspired for this special
purpose. They were to be the authentic witnesses of this
revelation to the whole human race. This is the strictest
sense of the Apostolate in Christian theology. But there
is also a wider sense in which the Apostolate is the organ
of the Church, by which she generates children, educates,
nourishes, and rules them, by which also she witnesses
to the Kingdom of Christ to all who are not her
children.
From this it follows that in its strictest sense the
Apostolate began and came to an end with the Apostles
themselves. The Pope succeeds to the Primacy of
St. Peter, but not to the personal Apostolate of St. Peter,
and the Holy See is called the Apostolic See, because it
possesses the plenitude of the Apostolate in its wider
sense, or possibly because the other eleven Apostles were
included in the Primacy of St. Peter. In the wider
sense, the Apostolate continues in the Church. It exists
in the Divinely-ordained Hierarchy, Bishops, Priests, and
Ministers, and those belonging to this Hierarchy may,
14 The Choosing of the Apostles.
with due restrictions, be called the successors of the
Apostles, because they receive orders from them handed
down by continual derivation from predecessors to
successors. In the same wide sense again the Apostolate
embraces the Ecclesiastical Hierarchy, that is, the Pope,
Bishops Ordinary, and — in a certain sense — Parish
Priests, but of these the only one who inherits his office
or has it by succession is the Pope, the others receiving
it by appointment. The Pope is said to have the
Apostolate by inheritance, because the Primacy is im-
movably annexed to the See of Rome, and is numerically
one from St. Peter. In all other cases the office is
conferred and succeeded to.
After this statement of the theology of the Apostolate,
it is easy to see that the whole office in its strictest sense
was not now conferred by our Lord. The twelve were
now designated and called, but it is after the Passion and
Resurrection that it is natural to think that the full
institution of this great commission took place. The
Church, as the Spouse of Christ, was born, according to
the contemplation of the Fathers, from His side on the
Cross, as Eve was formed by God from the side of
Adam as he slept. The Church, in this sense, was
before any of its parts, at least in that formal order of
existence which became its condition in the Kingdom of
God. It is therefore only in the more general sense that
we speak of the institution of the Apostolate in the
present chapter.
The name of Apostle implies, in those to whom it is
assigned by our Lord, a reflection and participation, in a
certain degree, of His own Divine mission, an office
which thus made them the founders and authors, with
and through Him, of the Christian community, as well as
the guides and pastors of its members. In another sense,
again, the institution of the Apostolate was the beginning
The Choosing of the Apostles. 1 5
of the formation of the community itself. It provided
the body with a nucleus around which it might gather,
and with rulers and leaders who were to wield in it the
highest authority. It was possibly nothing strange or
unheard of, among the teachers of the Jewish schools, to
form around themselves a band of disciples. Every
individual teaching has a tendency thus to collect a body
in some informal manner, for it provides men of intelli-
gence and thought with a new bond of union among
themselves, in which others do not share. But the for-
mation of the Apostolic body by our Lord was a great
deal more than the collection of a band of disciples. It
aimed directly at the carrying on, on a wider scale, of the
work of preaching which He had Himself begun, and
from which it was the object of His enemies to make
Him desist. It was a multiplication of preachers instead
of the silencing of preaching. It aimed at the continuance
of the separate existence of the school, which it was the
object of the persecutors to disperse. It provided for
the aggregation of new members, and for the develop-
ment of the organization of which it was the germ. Thus
while the Pharisees and Herodians were rejoicing, per-
haps, over the success of their wishes, if not of their
designs against His life, our Lord was planting a work
which would survive their utmost efforts against Himself
and spread His Name and His Kingdom over the whole
world.
The history of the Christian Apostolate, in this widest
sense, is the history of the Christian Church itself, and it
would be unwise to linger at the present point of the
story of our Lord's life in order to endeavour to trace all
the glories which that history records. The Apostolate,
in the more general and less technical sense of the word,
as it has existed in the Church ever since that memorable
morning on which our Lord ' called to Him whom He
l6 The Choosmg of the Apostles,
would Himself,' has discharged very multifarious func-
tions in the foundation, the expansion, the government,
the renovation and the reinvigoration of the Church, and
the instruments by which the work has been accomplished
have been as many and as various as the character of the
special needs and works themselves. In this respect it
has shared, as nothing else has shared, in the universal
mission and office of our Lord for the good of mankind
and of the Church. It would be unreasonable to look
for a definition or declaration of the whole range of the
functions of the Apostolate at the first outset of its opera-
tions, though we cannot doubt that our Lord left behind
Him, when He ascended into Heaven, for this as for all
other parts of His Divine Kingdom, a clearly-defined and
perfectly-organized system for His Apostles to carry out.
But we can still see in the few words in which the institu-
tion is related by the Evangelists, a description which
embraces, with great accuracy and even with great fulness,
the principles and the essence of this great gift of God to
men.
The Evangelists seem to tell us that our Lord passed
the night in prayer alone, and apart from His disciples.
Then ' When the day was come,' says St. Luke, \ He
called unto Him His disciples.' ' He called unto Him,'
as we have quoted from St. Mark, 'whom He would
Himself, and they came unto Him.' Thus we seem to
have a picture of the whole incident. Our Lord retires
for the night, even from the company of His most inti-
mate companions, and spends the long dark hours on
the mountain alone, in close communion with His
Eternal Father. The whole plan and scope of the
institution He was about to found is laid before the
Father in prayer, and the mighty and efficacious inter-
cession of the Incarnate Son spends its strength, hour
after hour, in imploring the wonderful graces, flowing
The Choosing of the Apostles. 1 7
from His own Person, necessar}' for the continuance of
His own work in the world, for the Apostles, and all
their successors to the end of time, in whatever part of
the Apostolate. "What thousands of souls were in His
Heart, as He looked along the Christian centuries, of
those who were to be the workers in this mighty army,
and of those whose salvation and perfection were to be
secured by this invention of love ! The dignity of the
office, the marvellous grace committed, as St. Paul says,
to earthen vessels, the trials and anxieties and weak-
nesses and dangers of the vocation, as they are so often
described by the same great Saint, were all in our Lord's
Heart at that time, and He looked on to the end of the
Church, as well as to the earlier ages, when the first or
second generation of successors came to inherit the work
of those whom He was now to call. Alas ! even in that
first band there was to be a traitor, and his defection was
to be the type of many a similar falling away in after
times. But there were Peter and James and John and
Andrew, and in the near distance the glorious figure of
St. Paul was to rise up, to console the Saviour of the
world for a thousand failures of grace. But we must not
attempt to enter into the sanctuary of the Sacred Heart.
When the day dawned, our Lord was still alone on the
mountain, and the loving hearts below were soon looking
anxiously for His descent, to begin again the lessons of
mercy and love with which they were now familiar. But
the first thing He did after coming down from the moun-
tain, with the dews of night on His raiment, and His
frame worn with the exertion of ardent supplication, was
to call together the larger body of the disciples, which
still accompanied Him. Then, in the presence of all,
He called the twelve, one after another, to receive their
new office. Thus the body of the Apostles was formed,
in some measure, publicly — it was not simply that one
c 36
1 8 The Choosing of the Apostles.
after another received from our Lord some private inti-
imation of His will concerning him. In this way they
•came to be invested at once with a kind of undefined
.authority, such as we find recognized by the general
crowd of the faithful, after the Ascension of our
Lord.
It must have been partly this more solemn and public
association with Himself, which constituted the special
•call of the Apostles of which the Evangelists here tell us.
We know of most of them already, that they must have
been,. for several months at least, the almost inseparable
-companions of our Lord. More than once they had
heard from His lips the loving invitation, ' Follow Me,'
but it had not been an invitation to so final an abandon-
ment of everything, nor to so complete and definite a
union of their lives with His, as that which was now their
call. If it had been only, however, to a closer com-
panionship with Him than that they had before enjoyed,
it is likely that the call now given would not have been
so public and solemn. Some relation to the general
body of the disciples, raising them to some authority,
seems implied in this publicity. And like all other calls
in the Kingdom of our Lord, whether public or secret,
whether to a temporary office and duty, or to functions
which remained unchanged during life, the call of our
Lord was one which involved an obligation of obedience,
a demand on personal loyalty which could not be
neglected without risk, even if it might be disregarded
without formal sin, and which also conveyed the graces
necessary and opportune for the due discharge of their
new functions. But the words of the Evangelists imply
the absolute independence of our Lord in making this
free choice, and that the invitation was to an office which
could not be earned, or bought, or obtained by favour,
or intercession. No one could complain if it were not
First Outlines of the Apostolate, 1 9
given him, no one who had received it could consider
himself free concerning it, as though it were altogether
his own to follow or not to follow.
CHAPTER 11.
First Outlines of the Apostolate.
St. Mark iii. 13—19 ; St. Luke \i. 12—16 ; Vita Viice Nostra, § 46.
The words of the Evangelists, describing our Lord's
purpose in this selection of the twelve, are, as has been
already said, sufficient for us to feed on in meditation,
and to furnish us with the great features and characteristics
of the Apostolic office, at least at this time. St. Mark
mentions four distinct purposes for which the selection
was made. In the first place he tells us that our Lord
* made twelve that they should be with Him.' In the
second place he says, ' and that He might send them out
to preach.' In the third place, he adds that * He gave
them power to heal sicknesses,' and adds, in the last
place, that this power also extended to the casting out of
devils. Thus there are four characteristics of the Apos-
tolic office, as it was exercised by the twelve at this
period. They were to be constantly with our Lord,
their union with Him was now of the closest and most
permanent kind. They were to be sent out to preach,
and at such times, though outwardly separated from Him,
they were to maintain the most perfect spiritual union
with Him, and their preaching was to be, above all things,
an extension and continuation of His preaching. Out of
the wondrous array of the powers inherent in His own
Sacred Person, He communicated two to them for the
purpose, among others, of making their preaching more
20 First Outlines of the Apostolate.
authoritative, and so more like His own. They were
armed with powers over diseases and over devils, power
therefore, against the physical evils and miseries of
human life, and also against the spiritual foes of God and
man, in their assaults on and cruel tyranny over man-
kind.
It is clear, as has been said, that the first of these
characteristic features in the Apostolate -which our Lord
had in view when He called the twelve at this time, must
have been a great advance on any familiarity, or friend-
ship, or intimacy, which the Apostles had enjoyed up to
the time of their call. And yet, in the order of friend-
ship and companionship, there might seem to have been
few higher privileges to be accorded to them than those
which they already enjoyed. For many months, most of
them had been with Him. There seems good reason for
thinking that, with the single and significant exception of
St. Peter, the Hsts of the Apostles, as given us in the
several Evangelists, represent to us, with little variation,
the order of time according to which they had become
our Lord's companions. St. Peter is always put first
in the catalogue, and by St. Matthew he is especially
designated as ' the first,'^ though we know that he was
brought to our Lord by his own brother St. Andrew,
who was one of the two first of the disciples of
St. John Baptist to join our Lord after His temptation.
In that same passage of St. John's Gospel, two more,
St. Philip and St. Nathanael, or Bartholomew, are men-
tioned by name as having been called, or brought to our
Lord, while another, unnamed, is mentioned as St.
Andrew's companion, in whom it is natural to see
St. John himself, who may be supposed to have intro-
duced his own brother, St. James. These two are at all
events mentioned very soon after this as called by our
1 I St. Matt. X. 2.
First OiUlines of the Apostolate. 2 1
Lord from their nets along with St. Peter and St. Andrew.
Thus we have accounts of the several vocations, or first
calls, on the part of our Lord, of all the Apostles in the list
till we come to the name of St. Matthew, and we know,
from the Gospels, the point of the histor}^ at which he
received the gracious invitation which filled him with so.
much delight. St. Thomas seems to have been called
about the same time, and St. Matthew seems to rejoice
to put his own name after that of St Thomas. Of the
four whose names come last in the list, three are taken
from among the near relatives of our Lord Himself, and
must probably have known Him as a boy or youth. The
last name is that of the unhappy Judas Iscariot, and it
may be supposed that he was the last in order of time to
join our Lord and His disciple. If he did this later than
St Thomas and St Matthew, it may not have been at
any considerable distance of time before the selection of
the Apostles as such.
As it is thus nearly certain that the twelve Apostles
were already most close companions of our Lord, it is
natural that Christian contemplation should have sought
for further kinds of union and intimate relations with
Him, in order to explain the new position in which they
were now placed. Their number and their separation
from the rest of the body of the disciples, together with
some hints which may be discerned in the Gospel
narrative itself, have suggested to many minds the idea,
which has considerable confirmation in the traditions of
the Church, that the Apostles now became a more or
less organized religious community under the Headship
of our Lord. We have thus in them the germ and
beginning of the religious life, although the character-
istics of our Lord's work must of necessity have pre-
cluded that cloistered retirement and regularity of daily
rule which is commonly connected with our ideas of
2 2 First Outlines of the Apostolate.
religious communities. There are traces of the vows of
poverty and obedience, for our Lord certainly addresses
them, almost immediately after their election, as actually
poor, instead of as poor in spirit, when it would have
been natural for Him, on many grounds, to have
repeated the Beatitude of poverty in the same words as in
the Sermon on the Mount. Even in the scanty notices
which remain to us, there are some traces of the organi-
zation of the body under our Lord. Such bodies
usually require one who is to take charge of the money
of the community, one who is to look after the temporal
provision for sustenance, one who is to take the com-
mand temporarily, in the occasional absence of the
superior, and another who may be the general receiver of
strangers or of communications from without. It may
seem fanciful to pretend to discover, in the short notices
in the Gospel from which alone we have to draw con-
clusions in this matter, any sufficient indications of
arrangements of this kind.
We have, however, some few hints. It is not easy to
suppose that there was no sort of organization in this little
company, especially as we know that Judas had an office,
that of keeping the money offered to our Lord as alms,
and the kindred duty of giving to the poor, and of pur-
chasing whatever might be wanted on occasions such
as that of the celebration of the Paschal Supper.
Although St. Peter is always put first in the list of
Apostles, and although he speaks in the name of the
body when our Lord asks them the famous question as
to Who He was thought to be by men in general, and
then by themselves, yet his office hardly seems to have
been that which we should now call the office of superior
under our Lord. When our Lord is absent from the
main body of the twelve, though He usually takes three
with Him, Peter and James and John, St. Andrew is left
First Outlines of the Apostolate. 2j
with the rest, although his age and the early date of his
call to our Lord's companionship might seem to give him
a place with those favoured three. This may perhaps
imply that he was left, as it were, as leader of the eight
on those occasions, as when our Lord raised the daughter
of Jairus to life, again, as at the Transfiguration, and the-
prayer of our Lord in the inner Garden of Gethsemani.
When there was no withdrawal from the main body, as-
on the occasion of the last prophecy on Mount Olivet,.
St. Andrew is mentioned as joining the other three ira
their request to our Lord.- On two occasions St. Philip
is named as if he had some special charge. These
occasions are, that of the feeding of the five thousand,
when our Lord speaks to him as if it were his business to
see to the stock of provisions, ' Whence shall we find
bread for these to eat ? ' ^ and then it is Andrew who
intervenes, after Philip has declared that two hundred
pennyworth of bread would not be enough, to say that
* there is a lad who has five loaves and a few fishes/
The other occasion is that on which the Gentiles wish to
see our Lord, just after the procession of palms, as it
appears, and these men apply to Philip, who goes to
Andrew, and then the two together ask our Lord how it
is to be.* These are very faint indications, it is true, as
to the interior arrangements of the community which
our Lord is supposed to have formed, but they do not
seem to be altogether accidental.
A more important feature in this new companionship-
with our Lord to which the twelve were now admitted, is
that which rises to the mind, when we consider that it
involved, almost of necessity, the closest possible
intimacy between the Master and His disciples one by-
one. Something has already been said as to the
external trials, to which the members of this little body
2 St. Mark xiii. ^ gt. John vi. 5 — 8. * St. John xii. 22.
24 First Old lines of the A post o late.
must have been exposed. If the Son of Man ordin-
arily had no where to lay His head, there must have
been frequent difficulties as to the feeding and lodging
of the body who now constantly accompanied Him.
These trials have been compared to the exercises of
mortification, humility, and labour in which the novices
of a religious order are trained, and which form indeed
so large and so essential a part in their training. But
the value and charm of such a training would be very
imperfectly estimated, if it were supposed to begin and
to end in these exercises of mortification and humilia-
tion, or in anything at all of a merely external character.
The life and spring of the whole of such a system con-
sists in the personal care and guidance, exercised by the
masters of the spiritual life over the souls committed to
their charge. This care must be individual, even more
than general. In the famous system of the kind in the
early Church, that of the Fathers of the Desert, as
we call them, it seems to have been the custom for each
beginner to be put under the charge of some one old
and experienced recluse, from whom he learnt the whole
method of life of the general body, and under whose
individual guidance his soul was to ripen and grow up
in the practice of every perfection. This individual union
and charge became impossible as time went on, and the
system was gradually, if not at a very early time, modi-
fied by the appointment of a single master to train a
number of beginners together. But in any case, the
intimate personal cultivation of the soul remained the
essence of the spiritual system, and the master dealt, as
well with each one by himself, as with all together. We
may certainly understand the words of the Evangelist
as implying this, in the case of the relations of the
Apostles to our Lord in their new mode of life. He
Himself afterwards said, speaking in a more general sense,
First Outlmes of the Apostolate. 25
that He knew His sheep and His sheep knew Him. He
used that beautiful image, of the perpetual truth of which
travellers in Eastern countries assure us, ' The sheep know
His voice, and He calleth His own sheep by name, and
leadeth them out, and when He hath led out His own
sheep, He goes before them, and the sheep follow Him,
because they know His voice, but a stranger they follow
not, but fly from him, because they know not the voice
of strangers.' 5 We may be sure that the words, which
seem to refer to a subject very familiar to our Blessed
Lord's Heart, must have had something to correspond
to them in His own personal experience. They repre-
sent the sheep of the Good Shepherd, not so much as a
flock and nothing more, but rather as a collection of
individual sheep, each one of whom was known in-
timately and separately to their Master. But we can
imagine no class of those with whom our Lord had to
deal, to whom they more fittingly be applied than the
Apostles. They, if any, were His sheep, who knew
His voice and were known to Him, one by one.
We thus seem to have authority for the belief, which
is indeed only the natural result of reflection on the
subject, that from this time forward, the Apostles
received a greater amount of personal cultivation and
attention from our Lord than before, that they were
accustomed to that which is the natural correlative of
of such cultivation, namely, to open themselves without
reserve and with the most childlike freedom to Him,
that He dealt with them one by one, according to the
infinite ^\qsdom and tenderness which were in Him, and
that, in consequence, in the case of all except that one
poor soul, on whom all His cares were to be thrown away,
the union between Him and them was indefinitely
deepened and strengthened. From this time they had
St, John X. 4, 5,
26 Fh^st Outlines of the Apostolate.
a share in His thoughts and counsels, as far as they were
capable of such confidence, and in their relations to
Him, they became more like the inmates of that most
blessed home, in which He had dwelt for so many years,
with His Mother and St. Joseph, than the cherished
and trusted friends which they had been to Him before.
This thought opens to us many subjects for reflection
which may help to enhance our ideas concerning the
dignity and privileges of the Apostles, and so to under-
stand better the Gospel narratives concerning them.
These narratives are drawn up, either by themselves or
under their direction, and they do not omit, we may be
sure, any point that might serve for the instruction of the
faithful, even at the expense of laying bare the failings of
the first followers of our Lord. But they do not dwell
on their virtues or services to Him, and we are left to
gather their immense personal privileges from the simple
facts which are passed over without comment. It seems
to be the case that, in the spiritual kingdom, the
differences, between one degree of union and another,
become greater and more wonderful as the soul rises in
the scale, and it may require a very great familiarity
with our Lord and with Divine things to understand all
that may have been involved in this ever increasing
nearness to the Sacred Heart of our Lord which was
now opened to the Apostles. The lives and writings of
the Saints, especially those whose intimate communings
with our Lord we know the most of, must at least be
deeply studied in order that we may come to compre-
hend faintly what this * being with Him' may have
implied in the case of souls like those of Peter or John,
James or Andrew. The whole realm, so to speak, of
our Lord's spiritual dealings with single souls, one of the
most beautiful and magnificent portions of His Kingdom,
is reserved for our contemplation in the blessed light of
First OtUlines of the Apostolate. 2 7
His face in Heaven. We only know that, as He is so
wonderful in all things, and as He shows the infinite
condescension of His tenderness and wisdom, even in
what we can discover of His workings in the lower
grades of the physical creation, so He must indeed be
surpassingly wonderful in His personal care of souls,
and more especially of those on whom He lavishes love
and care such as are given to few. Nothing that science
can reveal to us of the delicate and minute care which is
shown for even the lower order of God's creatures, in
His arrangements concerning them, can be more than
the faintest shadow of the exquisite devices of His
wisdom and love which are set in play for the relief, the
support, the consolation, the illumination, the upward
guidance, of the souls on whom the Good Shepherd
pours forth all the treasures of His affection.
As the riches which our Lord has to bestow are
infinite, and as the actual bestowal of them is only limited
by the capacity and the faithfulness of the souls whom
He desires to enrich, it must be certain that the treasures
of grace which were now laid open to these chosen
children of His love were practically boundless, and we
may feel certain that their advance and profit in spiritual
strength and stature, must have been from this time
forth immense. We have hitherto been mainly con-
cerned with the communications which must have passed
between our Lord and each one of the body individu-
ally, and it may be imagined that these personal com-
munications were the most prolific and powerful source
of spiritual blessings to them. But it must not be for-
gotten that their simple companionship with our Lord
and, under Him, with one another, could not but be of
immense benefit to them, even apart from His private
dealings with them one by one. It is the privilege of
saintly souls who are closely united to Him, to profit.
2S First Outlines of the Apostolate.
not only by the blessings which they have as their own
secret treasure, and which are not shared with them by
the world at large, but also, in an eminent degree, by
the commoner benefits which are open to all. Thus the
Saints of God, in all ages, have advanced like giants in
the way of perfection, not only by the peculiar favours
which they may have received in prayer, but also, and
even more, by their participation in the ordinary means
of grace, the sacraments, the Word of God, and the like.
In the case of the Apostles, the constant companion-
ship with our Lord, which now became their normal lot,
implied a familiarity with His example. His methods of
acting. His practice of all the virtues in relation to God
and to man. His charity. His humility, His zeal. His
mercy, His love for enemies, and the like, such as
belonged to no one but themselves. It involved the
constant illumination of their minds by His conversation
and teaching, and an insight into the principles and
maxims by which His Kingdom was to be governed.
The more the persecution and proscription to which He
was now subjected threw Him back into privacy, the
more continual were the opportunities enjoyed by those
who shared this privacy. It was not exactly the loss of
the many that became the gain of the few, because
these spiritual opportunities were laid open to the
Apostles not for themselves alone, but that they might
become the more efficient ambassadors and delegates for
the salvation of the many. The whole world gained by
this intimate training of the Apostles, as it had gained
by the thirty years of the Hidden Life, as it gains now,
whenever a chosen soul is magnificently enriched by our
Lord, though it be, perhaps, in some hidden cottage, or
cave, or in some remote cloister, with spiritual favours
and graces of the same order as those which He
lavished on Ignatius or Teresa.
First Otit lines of the Apostolate. 29
This consideration of the intimate care expended by
our Blessed Lord on the individual souls of the twelve
Apostles is very precious to us on another account. It
sets Him before us as the first great spiritual Director in
the Kingdom of His Father. It thus enables us to con-
nect with His own practice and example the most
important and delicate exercise of that fatherly care
over souls which He has delegated to His priests,
whether we are ourselves the subjects of guidance, or
whether we are occupied in the guidance of others. And
indeed if the latter be our vocation, we must first pass
through the state of pupilage in the former, and we
must continue to be ourselves always under direction
while we act to others in the office of directors. In all
these cases it is an immense consolation to us to think
of the time when our Lord placed Himself exactly in this
relation to so many chosen souls. AVe may consider
that the holy traditions and maxims by which those who
have this office in the Church are guided in its discharge,
are, in the main, reflections and inheritances from Him,
and that He has sanctioned and blessed and made fruit-
ful and prolific of endless good, this particular part, as
all other parts, of the ministerial office. It is no argu-
ment on the other side to say, that we have no details of
this guidance of our Lord over particular souls in the
narratives of the Evangelists. The Gospels were not
intended to furnish us with instructions of this kind, at
least with any direct particulars of our Lord's practice in
this respect. These things were, like so many others, the
secret possession of the Apostles. A great part of that
Divine illumination from the Holy Ghost, which made
them so fully equal to the immense spiritual work laid
upon them by their office, consisted in the revival in
their minds of what our Lord had said to them. They
were His scholars, formed and trained under His own eye
30 First Outlines of the Apostolate.
and hand. And even if they did not, in every particular
case, remember how this or that detail of the science of
the government of souls had been insisted on by our
Lord in their own personal guidance, still, being His
spiritual children, they were formed, unconsciously to
themselves, to administer the same training and guidance
to others on the same principles and by the same methods
as His own.
We see in this, as in other instances, how great was the
amount of what our Lord left behind Him in the hearts
and minds of the Apostles, which might have passed away
with them, unless it had been by them carefully enshrined
in the floating traditions and methods of the Church. The
ways of God with every single soul are very wonderful,
and His whole system, so to call it, of the government of
souls is not the least fair of all the beautiful departments
of the spiritual Kingdom. The most wonderful part of
this realm is naturally, as we may suppose, that which
relates to His dealings with those souls on whom He has
expended His choicest favours, and, among these, few
could be reckoned so high as these holy Apostles.
And yet all this part of our Lord's work is hidden,
until the day comes when it shall be manifested in
Heaven for the delight and instruction of the saints.
It is with this, we may say, as with that part of His
human conversation which would be unknown to us alto-
gether, if we had not the Gospel of St. John, and as to
which that Evangelist has only just lifted the veil and
barely more. He has told us of disputations with the
Jews, such as find no record in the other Gospels.
He has told us also of dialogues with single persons, such
as Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman, of which we
should have no idea but for the short records with which
he has furnished us. He has told us, above all, of the
long discourse in which our Lord poured Himself forth
First Outlines of the Apostolate. 31
to His beloved friends after the institution of the Most
Blessed Sacrament. All these are portions of the Life of
our Lord, of which we know, as it is, very little, but of
which we should know almost nothing at all but for the
revelations made to us by the beloved Apostle. What
would it have been, if it had so pleased God, if St. John
or St. Peter or St. Thomas had left behind him a record
of our Lord's intimate dealings with his own soul, and if
we were able to compare His method with one with His
method with another ? The study of the Gospels reveals
to us very great diversities of character among the twelve,
and we cannot doubt that our Lord adapted His training
to the peculiarities of each. We can form some idea of
His method with St. Peter from the scanty records re-
maining to us, and perhaps we can see something of the
extreme forbearance and charitable skill with which He
managed the soul of Judas as far as that could be done
without interfering with his liberty. But on the whole,
all this great part of our Lord's doings in the foundation
of the Church, remains hidden to us, as much as the
labours after the Day of Pentecost of the greater number
of the Apostles themselves, of which only the scantiest
records remain in Christian tradition.
It must not, however, be thought that, because we
have no details of the manner in which our Lord exer-
cised in general the function of director and master on
the spiritual life, and because we have so few direct
statements as to what passed in general between Him and
the twelve, therefore the fruit of all this most Heavenly
intercourse has been lost to us. We cannot doubt for a
moment that this communion with Him, in which the
Apostles now so constantly lived, influenced to an indefi-
nite extent the whole afterHfe of the Christian community.
Even to the outward eye, that looks on her from a purely
critical point of view, there is a certain character belong-
32 First Outlines of the Apostolate,
ing to the Church as such, a certain temper and method
and tone and way, which her children are too famiUar
with to recognise, because they take it for granted, as we
take for granted the atmosphere in which we live. Even
our peculiarities of national character, or the effects of
climate, or family, or training in a particular school, and
the like, are not discernible by ourselves, so much as by
strangers. And yet no one can question the great power
of such influences in the formation of a decided charac-
ter. A great man, or an eminent artist or teacher, leaves
the impression of his own character on those around him,
and even in cases of no great pre-eminence of genius,
the impression is perpetuated, thought it may gradually
grow faint, in successive generations. Much more then
must the character of our Lord, in all its ineffable force
and depth and beauty and sweetness, have left a mark on
all who came across Him, a mark deeper and more
indelible on all who lived with Him. This was the very
design of God in taking upon Him our nature. To
say that something is characteristic of the Church, is the
same thing as to say that something is characteristic of
Him. The Apostles stamped themselves on the communi-
ties which they formed, and the mark which they left was
the mark of our Lord. ' Be you followers of me,' says
St. Paul, * as I also am of Christ.'*^ He had not seen our
Lord, at least he had not seen Him as His Disciple and
Apostle before His Crucifixion and Ascension, but he
had had that one incommunicable characteristic, as it
seems, of the Apostolate imparted to him, as the rest of
his knowledge of the Gospel was imparted to him, not by
man, but by God. In others it was a necessity to have
known our Lord * from the baptism of John until the day
wherein He was taken away from them,''' as St. Peter
said on the occasion of the election of St. Mathias.
6 I Cor. iv. i6 ; xi. I ; Philipp. iii. 17. "^ Acts i. 22.
First Out lines of the Apostolate. 33
Simply to bear witness to the historical fact of the
Resurrection of our Lord, was a formal part of the
Apostolic office ; but for this, according to the ordinary
laws of evidence, any certain knowledge of His Person,
before and after His Resurrection, would have sufficed.
But to stamp the mind and character of our Lord upon
others it was necessary to have known Him very
familiarly, unless the same power could be miraculously
imparted, as in the case of St. Paul.
Some reference has already been made, in this work, to
the practical instructions which form so considerable a
part in the Epistles of the Apostles, those of St. Paul as
well as of the others. We have here the very essence
and flower of Christian morality, the principles and
methods and rules of social and domestic life which were
introduced by the Apostles wherever they went. Every-
where there is the same character of charity, of purity, of
mercifulness, of gentleness and humility, of the most
tender consideration for others. The joy also, which is
another characteristic of the early Christians as they are
painted for us, so to say, in these instructions of the first
teachers, becomes easily intelligible when we consider
what sort of a society that was which had thus been
created and knitted closely together. But, at the same
time, there is everywhere a tacit reference to the example
and character of our Lord. He it is that is sketched for
the imitation and delight of the faithful in the Epistles of
the Apostles as well as in the Gospels. Surely it is here
that we come upon the fruit of the constant companion-
ship with Him, to which the Apostles were now called,
and we have reason to see how true it is that His life is
the foundation and root and spring of that of the whole
Christian community in this sense also.
The same may be said of the working of the Holy
Ghost in the hearts of the faithful, as that working is
D 36
34 First O tit lines of the Apostolate,
indirectly manifested to us in the Sacred Scriptures, which
are His work, and of which the writings of the Apostles
form so principal a portion. It was to be the office of
the Holy Ghost to receive what was our Lord's and show
it to them,^ and to bring to their remembrance, as has
been said, all things which He had said to them.^ These
offices of the Holy Spirit were indeed fulfilled in other
ways, as well as in this of which we are now speaking ;
but they were fulfilled in this. When the Holy Ghost
took possession of the hearts of the Christian people, and
especiallylthose who were in a peculiar manner near and
. dear to our Lord, His great work was to bring out in
them the lines which had been drawn by Him, and to
impress on others who had been strangers to Him that
character which was His. In the case of the Apostles
especially, but also of others who had caught the stamp
from them, or from our Lord Himself, the Holy Ghost
was to work very much through their memory, by bring-
ing to their minds how He was wont to speak and to act
and to behave, that thus they might repeat in their own
lives and hand on to others after them the most precious
of all the Divine traditions, the manner and principles of
Jesus Christ.
It follows, as a spiritual necessity, that the love and
devotion of the Apostles to our Blessed Lord must have
increased daily in intensity and depth during all this
period. No one could come near Him without being
drawn to love Him, except in those terrible cases in which
the human heart was resolutely set against Him by its
•own perversity, as in the Chief Priests, and in Judas,
•after his decline had begun. It is perhaps the greatest
-of all the marvels in the Life of our Lord, that anyone
could turn against Him, and when Satan was able to stir
up the malice of the Priests to such a point as he did,
8 St. John xvi. 15. * St. John xiv. 26.
First O2U lines of the Apostolate. 35
and to pervert the heart even of an Apostle to hate and
betray Him, Hell achieved a triumph such as never had
been seen before. No one but Satan, it may be said,
could have conceived such enormities. An old Christian
writer tells us that men said of our Lord, when He was
on earth, ' Let us go to sweetness.' That may or may
not be an authentic tradition, but it must represent a
truth. Our Lord's whole character and conduct were
such as they were because of the counsel of God to win
men back to Himself by His own loveUness. But if the
crowds around the door of the house where He might be,
or the people in the villages through which He passed, if
the multitudes who only once or twice heard Him preach
or saw Him work His miracles, were so inflamed by love
for Him, much more must this have been the case with
His own famihar friends and spiritual children, on
whom He poured out all the riches of His Sacred Heart,
overwhelming them, day after day, by fresh demonstra-
tions of His love for them.
It may indeed be thought that the whole conduct of the
Apostles, as it is drawn for us in the Gospels, is barely
intelligible, unless we take into account the intensity of
the love with which they regarded Him. It was a hard
life to which He led them ; and it soon became apparent
that it was a life involving no common dangers. It is
not only their faithfulness to Him that is best explained
by the intensity of their love, but even their dulness in
beheving His often repeated predictions about His
coming Passion. They could not imagine that such
things could be possible — their hearts revolted from the
simple imagination, far more than the heart of the most
tender of mothers revolts from the thought that her best
loved child can be doomed to death, even though she sees
it waning and pining away before her eyes. This love
for our Lord explains St. Thomas's difficulty in accepting,
36 First Outlines of the Apostolate.
on the witness of others, the fact of the Resurrection, as
well as that other most touching exclamation of the same
Apostle, ' Let us also go, that we may die with Him.'^^
It may most truly be said, that no heart less loving than
the Heart of our Lord could have devised all that He
did and said at the Last Supper, from the washing of
the feet of the disciples and the institution of the Blessed
Sacrament, to the long discourse which followed, and the
prayer to His Father with which the words of that blessed
night were closed. But it is also and equally true, that
our Lord could not have opened His Heart and poured
out all Its tenderness so lavishly to any but men whose
love in some measure, as far as was possible, corresponded
to His own. The manifestations of God in Heaven are
made in the greatest fulness to those orders of blessed
spirits who love Him the most, and in proportion to their
love. Their love is founded on their knowledge, and in
another sense their love wins for them fresh knowledge.
And we may say, in the same way, that, if the discourse
and the boons of which we are speaking were the fruits
of our Lord's love to His Apostles, it is also true that
the love of the Apostles was such as to make them
capable of all these blessings.
Thus it is that the foundations of the Apostolate were
laid on the tenderest love, and intercourse, and union,
between our Lord and His Apostles. No doubt the
abiding in Him, and His abiding in them, of which He
speaks in that discourse after the institution of the Blessed
Sacrament, are to be understood of other unions as well
as of that of simple affection. They are to be under-
stood of unity of purpose, of spirit, of doctrine, and
method, as well as of love. They imply that of which
their personal love for Him was to be the spring and
cause, the most perfect external and internal unity of the
10 St, John xi. 16.
First Outlines of the Apostolate, 37
Body of the Church, as well as union with our Lord
Himself. It is this very fact, that the whole Christian
system is but a growth out of union with our Lord Him-
self, that gives their peculiar character of blackness, per-
fidy, treachery, ingratitude, and baseness, to such sins as
those of heresy and schism. They are sins which would
not be but for what our Lord has done, in the way of
love. They are personal outrages on Him, quite as much
sins against love to Him, as against truth or obedience.
They are the sins of Judas, rather than the sins of Caia-
phas or Pilate or Herod. This character in such sins takes
away the excuse so often made, that heretics believe much
that is true and hold large portions of the Catholic creed.
All the worse, then, is their sin against the love to which
they owe to our Lord, and which is to be paid in His
stead to His Body, the Church. The heretic who makes
it his boast that he holds ' all Catholic doctrine, except
that of the Papal supremacy,' or the schismatic who holds
out in rebellion because he thinks that his orders may be
valid, or that his mutilated Prayer book may be strained
so as to admit of the doctrine of the Real Presence, may
believe more particles of the faith than the man who denies
our Lord's Divinity, but he has more ground for loving
Him and he loves Him less. He loves Him less, for he
lets lesser things keep him from Him. The treason
against the law of love is more malicious in proportion as
the points of difference are fewer, between the separated
Christian communities and the Catholic Church. This
is another way in which all the various manners in
which we are brought into union with our Lord are seen
to merge themselves in personal love for Him.
It is natural for Christian contemplatives to seek for
traces of the particular characters of the twelve chosen
disciples, as well as of what is still more interesting
and important, our Blessed Lord's treatment of each
38 First Otttlines of the Apostolate.
individual soul among them. These two things, as has
been said, would certainly illustrate one the other,
could we find any sufficient indications to guide us in
the investigation. But it seems hardly possible to pene-
trate the veil, which the shortness of the Gospel accounts
throws over matters of this kind in the Life of our Lord.
We can gather considerable knowledge of the characters
of St. Peter and St. John, from the details of the
narrative, especially when we combine these details with
the writings of these two most favoured friends of our
Lord. In each case the character of the Apostle is to
be studied in what he has left behind him, and we have
besides, a very considerable amount of light from the
prominent places which they fill in the history, as well
before as after the Ascension of our Lord. We have
in the same way, a good deal that helps towards a
knowledge of St. Matthew's character, in the Gospel
which he was commissioned to Avrite. St. Paul is not
one of the original twelve, but his character also is
written for all ages, both in the Acts and in his Epistles.
Of the other Apostles we know far less. We have
already mentioned the few occasions in which they are
specially named in the story of the Life of our Lord,
and after the Day of Pentecost they are simply members
of the Apostolic body, and we hear nothing of them as
individuals. On their own converts and friends, on the
whole nations to whom they preached, these glorious
servants of Jesus Christ impressed themselves with as
much distinctness, as also with as much individuality and
beauty, as St. Peter or St. Paul or St. John on those
among whom they worked. But everything in this
world is so transitor}^ so fleeting, so short-lived, that the
tale of their heroic lives and deaths has been written as
on the sand, only to be washed away by the next flow of
the tide. To us their names are little more than names.
First Outlines of the Apostolate. 39
We can add but very little to what has been already said
about them, except what will naturally occur in the
course of the narrative as it proceeds.
One question may, however, be spoken of here, as it
seems natural to consider that the Evangelists mean to
suggest it by the few words which they add to the last
name on the list. They always mention that Judas was
the traitor. Of the character of this most miserable
man we know nothing except as it is manifested in his
acts. But it may well be asked, why our Lord allowed
such a soul to be numbered among His companions,
and to have a share in the very highest vocation of the
Apostolate. The answer must be found in the general laws
by which God governs the world and human souls, rather
than in any special derogation from those laws in the
case of the lost Apostle. But we cannot doubt that, if
we could trace the whole of our Lord's private dealings
with the soul of this false friend, we should come on one
of the most beautiful and instructive chapters in the
whole history of the Incarnation. We find some
remarks on this subject in some of the Fathers, and it
may be well to summarize in this place the lessons
which they convey.
In the first place, then, it is the teaching of the
Fathers that Judas was a good and holy person when
our Lord chose him for an Apostle, and when he was
sent out to preach and to work miracles. Some contem-
platives have thought that Judas obtained his place
among the twelve by ambition and pressing, to which
our Lord submitted for the sake of the warning which
the result might convey as to the terrible character of
such attempts to gain high positions in the Church.
Some have even said that Judas earnestly begged our
Blessed Lady to intercede for him in this matter. These
thoughts must be taken for the pious reflections of the
40 First Outlines of the Apostolate.
souls from whom they come to us, and nothing more.
It is not likely that our Blessed Lady would so far con-
descend as to use her intercession with her Son, in a case
in which she must have discerned a danger even in the
very eagerness of the application. But it is undoubtedly
the case that ambition has played a large and fatal part
in the history of the Church and of her Hierarchy, and
has given occasion to many most terrible falls and even
apostacies. Putting aside these considerations, it may
be remarked that the lesson of the fall of Judas would
lose some, at least, of its significance if it were supposed
that he had had no true vocation from God for the
Apostolate, and that his history is the story of one who
has aspired to higher things and posts than those for
which he was fitted. An error of this kind may often
lead to the most calamitous results. But it is said of
Judas, as of the other Apostles, that our Lord ' called to
Him whom He would Himself These words make it
unlikely that our Lord called any of the twelve, except
because He saw in each at the time the qualities which
fitted him for the vocation. Thus it would appear that
Judas was really called to this most lofty throne in the
Kingdom of God, and that if he had persevered, as he
might have persevered, his name would now be in the
roll of the Saints with the name of Peter or of John, or
any other of the Apostles. Our Lord's mode of acting
in this matter is like that which He constantly follows
with regard to souls whose fall from faithfulness to Him
is only less conspicuous than that of Judas. Just as He
offers all men salvation, though He knows that so many
will refiise the offer and be the worse throughout all
eternity from the fact that it has been made them, so
does He constantly call to the perfect following of Hinv
self, and to lofty places in the Church, men whose wills
He does not constrain, either to follow the call at first, or
to persevere faithfully in it to the end.
First Outlines of the Apostolate. 41
No one can suppose, on the other hand, that
Peter and John and the remainder of the holy company
might not have fallen away as Judas fell away. And it
has often been considered as a merciful lesson, vouch-
safed by God to those who have the highest vocations
and offices in the Church, that He has allowed an Apostle
to fall in the most terrible manner, in order that no one
may be over-confident in himself, or neglect the proper
means by which perseverance may be secured as far as it
may be secured. The exact history of the decline of
Judas in the spiritual life, and of the various stages by
which he reached the final depth of perfidy and
apostacy, has not been traced for us in the Gospels.
But it is easy to see that the common contemplation,
which represents his case as that of a man who neglects
to subdue his predominant passion, or to guard himself
against those occasions of sin which his vocation or
office presents to him, contains a very great amount of
truth. Judas sins by pride, by envy, by rash judgment,
by hypocrisy, and by other passions, as it seems, also,
but the root of his transgression appears to have been his
avarice, which was exposed to danger by the fact of his
having the custody of the money bag of the little com-
munity. Of these matters it will be time to speak, when
we come to the part of the Gospel history to which the
actual sins of Judas belong.
As has been said, the question why God permitted
such a man to be called to the Apostolate, or why our
Lord called him to the Apostolate, when He knew that
he would incur the very extremest perdition thereby,
must be answered rather by general considerations than
by any reasons peculiar to the case of Judas or the
Apostolate. We have seen that there is no reason for
thinking that Judas was not designed for the throne in
Heaven which corresponded to his lofty vocation on
42 First Outlines of the Apostolate.
earth. It may be well to add one or two words on these
general considerations. Certainly, the one great mystery
of the whole government of God is the permission of
evil, and this nms up into the mystery of the creation of
free beings, in whose hands are placed the eternal issues
of their use or abuse of their freedom. AVhy did God
create the angels, when He knew that so many of them
would become devils ? Why did He create man, when
He knew that he would fall ? Why does He bring into
the world so many millions of sinners, of whom He
knows that they will be such, and lose their eternal souls ?
All that we know of God's dealings teaches us one truth,
which is enough to answer all these difficulties, as far as
they can be answered by us in our present feeble and
partial comprehension of the Divine counsels and ways.
The truth of which we speak is this, that God does not
make it the rule of His government that His fore-
knowledge should interfere, either with our liberty, or
with His treatment of us in our time of probation. It
may be that He does use His foreknowledge in many
ways and in many cases, as it pleases Him. It may be
that He constantly acts, in His government of souls, in
a particular manner, because He foresees what would be
if He acted otherwise. He may take many a much-
loved child away in early youth, because He knows that
if the child be spared to become a man, he will lose his
soul. It may be that He often afflicts men most severely
in the body or in the circumstances of life^ because He
foreknows that such discipline is the best mercy, and the
kindest method of the guidance of those particular
persons. But God is not bound, after having made us
free, to prevent us from reaping what we sow in the use
of our freedom. He must let His creatures, after all,
mould their own destiny, as He has decreed they should
mould it. The gift of liberty is not an unreality, nor is
First OtUliJie of the Apostolate. 43
it in any respect a hardship or a cruelty, for God pro-
vides all men with abundant grace for every possible
emergency and danger, so that if they lose themselves,
they must be, not only the authors of their own ruin, but
most ungrateful and most foolish authors of that ruin.
According to this general law, the end of Judas is no
more a difficulty in the Providence of God, than the end
of any other single sinner, or of any one of the fallen
Angels.
The general answer having thus been shortly given, it
may be well to point out, after the Fathers, the peculiar
fitness, if such a word may be used in such a connection,
of the extreme forbearance of our Lord in permitting
this man to take his place among the twelve Apostles.
In the first place, the presence of Judas in the company
of our Lord's chosen followers, gave Him the occasion,
from the moment of the first decline, for the exercise of
the most wonderful and most heroic charity. It may be
said that the picture of our Lord's condescension and
mercifulness would be, in a certain sense, incomplete, if
we had not this pre-eminent instance of His loving and
most ingenious forbearance. He was to teach His
disciples, including this very Judas, not yet, probably,
less fervent than the others, the doctrine contained in
the parable of the wheat and the cockle, and many other
kindred truths, such as that the last should be first, and
the first last, the fate of the unprofitable servant, and
the like. He was to warn them all of the necessity of
watchfulness, and of the danger they would run of
losing their crowns by negligence. All the time He was
Himself exercising the most patient tender care over this
soul, of whose danger He was well aware. He had to
give His warnings to Judas, even after this time, in
such a guise, as not to seem to others to be reproving
him. We find that up to the very end, the Apostles had
44 First Outlines of the Apostolate.
no idea or suspicion of the treachery of one of their own
number. Our Lord was to provide, even for the execu-
tion of the dastardly plan of the traitor, by dismissing
him from the Cenacle without giving any alarm to the
rest, and it is very probable that by doing this He saved
him from the commission of further sins into which he
might otherwise have fallen. Altogether, we should be
without one of the most touching of all the lessons of
our Lord's charity, if we had not this example of His
treatment of Judas.
There are also other considerations which are worthy
of notice. Some of the Fathers say that our Lord
showed the strength and solid stability of His work,
when He allowed it to be imperilled by so conspicuous a
defection, and yet preserved it from all loss thereby. It
is remarkable, indeed, how little harm the treachery of
apostates from the Catholic Church does to others
besides themselves. Judas is but the first of a long
series of men who have betrayed our Lord in His
Church, sometimes turning against His truth, or against
that unity on which He sets so great a store, all the
prestige of great talents, distinguished success, or high
position in the Hierarchy, and have yet failed most con-
spicuously to hurt the Church. They are at once seen
through by the world itself, their defection is attributed
to its right motive, and produces very little effect on
others. The crime of Judas was at once understood,
even by the wretched priests who had profited by it, and
it cast no kind of slur on our Lord or on His religion.
Again, as it belongs to God to be preeminent in
forgiving His enemies after their wickedness has been
wrought, so does it belong to Him to treat those who
are for a time His friends, and whom He knows to be
about, at some future time, to turn against Him, as if He
had nothing in them to consider beyond the present
First Outlines of the Apostolate. 45
loyal state of their hearts. This is a kind of anticipated
forgiveness and mercy, which belongs to Him alone.
He loves them heartily, as long as they remain deserving
of His love, and He does not look forward to the time
when they will no longer deserve it. Just so He rewards
in this world, by many a temporal blessing, the good
works of those of whom He knows that they will pre-
vent Him by their sins from giving them any reward
hereafter.
Moreover, our Lord took on Him all the infirmities of
our nature which it was possible for Him to assume, and
He suffered in ever}' way in which it was possible for
Him to suffer. It is a part of our natural weakness to
be liable to be deceived in our supposed friends, to be
deserted, abandoned, betrayed, cast off. Our Lord
could not be deceived, but He could let things go on as
if He were deceived, and so expose Himself to all this
class of human miseries. If this kind of Cross, often
the hardest of all to bear, was to fall so often on His
servants and on His Church, how would it have been in
accordance with the general character of our Lord's life
among us, for Him to have exempted Himself from this
sort of severe affliction ? He was to be the consolation
and support of His servants in every sort of woe, and
how could He have been so in this, by having shared it,
and taught us how to bear it, and behave under it, but
for the presence of the traitor among the twelve ?
" Lastly, the toleration of Judas among the Apostles
was an occasion, beyond all others in His life, in which
our Lord manifested the method of God's providence
by which it is His custom to bring good out of evil. The
treason of Judas was, humanly speaking, the immediate
cause of the working out of the salvation of the world.
It would seem as if there were something in the order of
Divine Truth which goes beyond the simple lesson of
46 First Outlines of the Apostolate.
the forbearance which we are to practise towards those
who are our enemies, and the like. It seems as if we
were meant to learn that evil has its place in the provi-
dence of God, according to the present state of the
world, and the present condition of human nature, that
we might miss many benefits and blessings if there were
not evil men to persecute, and so to purify the Church,
if the tolerance of evil were not one of the highest titles
which we can obtain for the mercy of God to ourselves,
and that the glory of God might be less than it is if it
were not so constantly increased by the good which
results in so many ways, from the evil which seems
designed to diminish it.
These are some of the considerations which Christian
v;riters have drawn from the existence of the future
traitor in the midst of the chosen band of Apostles. At
the time of which we are now speaking, there was,
except to the Divine foreknowledge of our Lord, no
reason for doubting that Judas might persevere and end
his life, like the other Apostles, after long labours for
God, by a glorious death. For all we know, he may
have been in the front rank of the general body of the
disciples. He may have been the child of holy parents,
brought up in a good and religious home, he may have
been a willing disciple of St. John, and have drunk in
with eagerness the gracious teaching of the first year of
our Lord's ministry. He may have had natural qualities
such as endeared him to all around him, and made them
nourish high hopes for his future career, and he may
have been so faithful to grace as to rejoice the blessed
Angel's heart to whose charge he had been committed.
Such, alas, has often been the beginning of a life which
has ended in perdition. We have no reason for think-
of him, up to the present point of the history, as
different from the rest of his companions. The little
First Ozct lines of the Apostolate. 47
paradise of the community now gathered round the Son
of Man was not yet defiled by the triumph of the evil
one, nor are we told how soon the tempter made his
way to the heart of his future victim. Our Lord's
teaching, as we shall see, soon became full of notes of
warning, which may or may not have been especially
directed by Him to the heart of Judas. The first dis-
tinct intimation of his evil state comes at a much later
time, and it may be thought probable that it was the
falUng away of many disciples, after our Lord's definite
teaching concerning the Blessed Sacrament, that first
shook the loyalty of Judas, as it has been the occasion
of thousands of apostacies since. But of this it will be
time to speak when we approach that point in the Public
Life of our Lord.
CHAPTER III,
The Office of the Preacher.
St. Matt. iii. 13 — 19 ; St. Luke vi. 12 — 16 ; Vita Vitce Nostrce, § 46.
We may now pass on to the second great element in the
Apostolate, as it is indicated by the Evangelist St.
Mark, who, after saying that our Blessed Lord chose the
twelve, ' that they might be with Him,' adds : * And that
He might send them out to preach.' This part of the
Apostolic office may be considered as the most essential
and intrinsic of all, inasmuch as it is that part which is
expressed in the very name of Apostle. But it is note-
worthy that it is not put the first in order, and we may
well see in this a reference to the truth, that the mission-
ary part of the Apostolic life and work grows out of
the former, that is, out of the union with our Lord
and the love of Him, which is the inevitable issue of
that union. It is as true to say that the love of our Lord
generates the Apostohc spirit in this particular, as to say
that union and familiarity with our Lord give birth to
intense love for Him. For the great passion of our
Lord was the love for souls and the desire to help them,
and in proportion as persons draw near to Him and
understand His Sacred Heart, just in the same pro-
portion do they become inflamed with zeal for souls.
We see this in the great contemplative saints, such as
St. Teresa, whose sex and whole vocation forbade to her
the active exercise of any Apostolic ministry, but who
nevertheless founded her reform of Mount Carmel
The Office of the Preacher. 49
mainly from a desire to help in the conversion of souls^
by living the kind of life of strict observance and of the
practice of the virtues of her calling, which might make
her prayers, and those of her religious sisters, powerful as
aids to the missionaries and teachers of the Gospel,
whose work lay in immediate contact with the souls for
which she was so anxious for the sake of our Lord.
Thus the companionship with Jesus Christ, which be-
came the daily life of the twelve after they were called
to the Apostolate, was not only necessary to ground them
in the principles and instruct them in the methods which
they were afterwards to apply in the fulfilment of their
great commission. It was also the spring of all their
activity and the source of all their zeal. Thus, as many
holy writers have observed, when our Lord gave to
St. Peter his office of being, in His own place, the Pastor
of the whole flock of the Church, He premised to the
delivery of the commission the thrice repeated question,
' Lovest thou Me?'^ as if to teach him, that the one great
indispensable qualification for the discharge of the office
of the Supreme Shepherd was always to be the love of
his Lord and Master.
It is also very remarkable that it is this one
ordinance of Christian preaching, which is selected by
our Lord as the object to be assigned in the formation
and selection of the Apostles. Afterwards they were to
have many other sublime functions, functions of the
highest moment, which have been handed on by them,
at least in great measure, to the ordinary rulers of the
Church. Many of these functions, such as the exercise
of the priestly power over the Body of Christ and over
the members of His Mystical Body, in the consecration
of the Holy Sacrifice, and in the Sacraments of Penance
or Orders, have a sublime and unearthly character. They
1 St. John xxi. 15, \6, 17.
E 36
50 The Office of the Preaclier,
fcring our Lord down on the altar, and the decisions
which they make, in loosing or binding souls, are ratified
in Heaven. The forces of the spiritual world are at their
command, to an extent which cannot be asserted of the
exercise of their mission as the preachers of the Word
of God, although that exercise, like others, cannot be
considered a simply human action. In any case, the
preaching of the Word of God remains now as one only
among many functions of the Christian ministry, a
function which is freely communicated, even to many
who hold but an inferior rank in that ministry itself.
But its position in this passage w^ould be enough to
remind us of the prominent place which it has occupied
in the Kingdom of our Lord from the very beginning, a
place of which nothing can deprive it. This place
belongs to it on two grounds; first, on account of the
importance of faith as the door to the Christian
privileges, and again from the nature of the case, which
makes preaching the necessary foundation of all know-
ledge of the Law of God and of the Sacraments of the
Church. Nothing is said in this place of any of the
Sacraments, even of the Sacrament of Baptism, or the
Sacrament of Penance. The Sacrament of Baptism,
must have been administered, to some at least, from a
very early period in the public career of our Lord, and
the Sacrament of Penance is clearly in our Lord's mind
before this time, as He very plainly alludes to it in
the miracle on the Paralytic. But the Apostles them-
selves "were not made priests till the night before the
Passion, and the general commission to baptize was not
..given till after the Resurrection. The ordinance of
preaching thus preceded the sacraments if not as to
the date of its institution, at least as to its exercise, in
the gradual training of the Apostles and the propagation
of the Gospel Kingdom.
The Office of the Preacher. 5 1
' Faith,' as St. Paul says, * cometh by hearing, and
hearing by the Word of Christ,' - that is, by preaching.
And, just before, he says, ' How shall they call upon
Him, in Whom they have not believed? or how shall
they believe Him of Whom they have not heard ? and
how shall they hear without a preacher ? and how shall
they preach unless they be sent ? ' ^ As long, therefore,
as faith remains the condition of salvation, so long will
the preaching of the Word of God remain the necessary
preliminary of faith. Preaching is spoken of by the
same Apostle as the special instrument devised by God
for the salvation of the world. If there was anything of
the sort, strictly speaking, in the world before our Lord
came, at all events He took it up and breathed into it a
new life. The heathen philosophers taught, but they did
not preach. The Jewish Scribes taught, but did not
preach. The most complete anticipation of the
Christian preaching was in the earnest warnings and
pleadings of the prophets, as our Lord says that the
people of Ninive did penance at the preaching of
Jonas. -^ There are several passages in Isaias, in Jeremias,
in Ezechiel, and other prophets, in which we see re-
ference to something which in our sense would be
preaching. But the whole prophetical office was occa-
sional and not regular. The prophets filled the place, in
the elder dispensation, which is occupied in the Gospel
system by the saints and great founders or doctors,
rather than by the hierarchy and ordinary ministry. It is
►essential in preaching that the speaker should speak with
authority, and not rest on reasoning nor adduce arguments,
the whole force of which lies in logical connection. The
cogency of preaching lies in the person, more than in his
argument, though the preacher may use argument, as he
may use any other lawful method of persuasion. Thus
2 Rom. X. 17. 3 Rom. x. 14, 15. ^ gt. Matt. xii. 41.
5 2 The Office of the Preacher.
preaching was chosen by God, as St. Paul tells us, as a
thing Avhich the world would despise, and he calls it the
'foolishness of preaching.' ■' For all authoritative teaching
is foolishness to those who do not recognize any
authority in the person who speaks. ' For seeing that, in
the wisdom of God, the world, by wisdom, knew not God,
it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save
them that believed.' That is, as faith itself, though most
reasonable, is despised as a childish thing by the wise
and learned of the world (who yet exact from their
hearers and disciples an amount of faith in their personal
opinions and sayings which is absolutely unreasonable),'
so the whole method by which faith is conveyed to the
soul, according to the ordinance of God, appears foolish-
ness to the world at large, because the evidence on which
the message of the preacher rests is contained, not in
the argument itself, but in his own authority, externally
accredited by miracles, prophecy, and the like. And
yet, as St. Paul tells us, it was the chosen method of
God. To say this implies, not only that it was most wise,
most merciful, most reasonable, but that God was, in a
manner, pledged by His own choice of preaching as the
means of salvation, to assist both preacher and hearer
with abundant stores of grace.
Our Lord, in introducing this new weapon, so to
speak, for the work of the instruction and salvation
of mankind, did not certainly go beyond the use of
ordinary and natural influence for the moving of hearts
and the enlightenment of minds. On the contrary. He
took up one of the most ordinary means of persuasion, if
not the most ordinary of all. In His hands, preaching
became endowed with the force of the supernatural system
by which He worked, but, even in the natural order the
power of the spoken word is the greatest power that can
I Cor. i. 21.
The Office of the Preacher. 53
be brought to bear on the masses of mankind. It had
already been used from the beginning of society, and
its use had flourished, more than anywhere else, amid
the free communities of states in Greece and Rome
which had been the chief centres of cultivation, of in-
tellectual activity, of literature and the fine arts, as well
as the communities into whose hands the empire of the
civilized world had gradually passed. The efforts of
great speakers in the political and judicial arenas had
produced a series of great works, which stand in the
literature of the most polished nations of the globe by the
side of the noblest remains of poetry or philosophy. But the
influence of the spoken word was never, even in the natural
order, confined to the educated nations alone, nor to the
educated classes in any nation. The whole history of
the world shows that this power can move the multi-
tude, the savage, the illiterate, as well as those who can
pass an intellectual judgment on the oratory addressed
to them. This power does not reach to the mind alone,
it can stir the passions and inflame the heart, as nothing
else can stir and inflame them. It is far greater than
the power of literature as such on those whom it can
reach. It can touch many who have no appreciation of
the charms and magic of poetry. It is the natural
weapon of all those who would move their fellow-men.
In a system of which faith was the foundation, it was
impossible, so to say, but that the spoken word
should assume an immense importance. Our Lord
freely took it up, with all its powers and all its
immense dangers, and He did much to enhance the first
and diminish the last. In the first place. He subordi-
nated the persuasive and demonstrative phases of the
spoken word to the simple didactic and dogmatic
application of this great power. The Apostles
and their successors had a message to deliver.
54 The Office of the Preacher.
and they proved their authority in the same way as
He had proved His. In the second place, by making the
salvation of the hearers the one end of the Christian
preaching, He excluded all the lower aims and intentions
by which the use of so mighty a weapon might be
degraded. In the third place the Apostles had His own
example and practice to look to as their guide in the
preaching of the Word of God. Thus they were guarded
against all want of simplicity, all affectation, all seeking
for applause, while they gained from their knowledge of
Him and of His ways the very highest appreciation of
the dignity and high importance of the weapon He
placed in their hands, and of the duty of wielding it
at the cost of extreme labour, without human respect,
with great assiduity, with great constancy, with immense
prudence, and with the accompaniment of continual
prayer. But they did not, as appears from the Acts,
neglect the prudence and careful study of their audiences,
which were suggested by their knowledge of human
nature, as if it were wrong to study the peculiarities of
place and persons and to take pains to win and please
while delivering their Divine message. They did not
fling the Word of God, because it was His Word, like
pearls before swine, nor consider themselves exempted
from all the measures and temperaments which Christian
charity might suggest, to make the Divine treasure ac-
ceptable to those to whom it was their duty to minister
it. This principle extends, as we see in the case of
St. Paul, who if we may venture to say so, was a born
orator, to the use of rhetorical methods and the most
ingenious arts of persuasion.
The age in which the Church came into the world
was a time when the spoken word was losing its power,
because it was losing its freedom, in the decisions of
political government. The fate of Cicero at the hands
The Office of the Preacher, 55
of the second Triumvirate had shown to the world under
the Roman sway, that the despotism that was to succeed
to the Repubhc could not allow freedom of speech in-
public assemblies. Oratory was still, however, abun-
dantly cultivated, not only for its forensic use, but as
the accomplishment of persons of high education. The
world under the Caesars was a world of rhetoricians, and
this fact is necessary to explain much which is strange
to us in the Roman society of that period, as well as to-
account for the literary excellence, combined with un-
reality, of the historians and poets of the silver age.
Declamations and recitations were the common enter-
tainments of a large class in the higher society. St.
Paul's speech, before Festus, Agrippa, and Berenice, was
probably looked upon by them as an exhibition of this
kind, for it had no object, except to inform Festus what
he should say in his letter to Rome, when he sent his
prisoner to the tribunal to which he had appealed. It is
possible that this fashion of declamation on a given
subject may have occasionally assisted the spreading of
knowledge of Christian truths, during the ages which
intervened before the Church was allowed by the edict
of Constantine to build her sacred edifices all over the
empire, and thus make the hearing of the Word of God,
in its proper sense, possible to large populations. But it
is certain that the great days of Christian preaching
began, in our sense of the terms, after the emancipation
of Christianity by the first Christian Emperor, and that,,
up to that time, the series of the great preachers does not
commence. Christianity was spread by personal in-
fluence and communication, more than by public and
popular teaching, as is the case now in those parts of the
world where persecution still fetters the open propagation
of the faith. It is thus that we learn that Christian
preaching may go on, in the sense in which it is essential
56 The Office of the Preachei\
to the formation of the Christian community, under
circumstances which forbid the exercise of preaching in
its most strict acceptation.
It would, however, be unwise to conckide from this,
that the ordinance of which we are speaking can ever be
neglected without the greatest detriment to the Church.
It is not, like the gift of miracles, a gift which may be,, in
some large measure, confined to the earUest ages in which
the Church has more especial need for it, or to cases in
later times in which the circumstances of the early ages
are repeated, as when the Christian truths are presented,
for the first time, to savage populations who have never
heard of our Lord or of His Church. It is, indeed, a
mistake to think that the Church can ever be without the
actual exercise of the gifts of miracles or of prophecy,
though it is undoubted that these gifts are not so common
in one age as in another. But the ordinance of preaching
can never be superseded. The effects produced by
miracles or prophecy can be supplied, in great measure,
by the existence itself of the Catholic Church, the one
great standing miracle in the eyes of all the world. But
nothing can supply the absence of the Word of God. It
is far more true to say that the state of the Church in any
age, or in any country, depends in a very great measure
indeed on the use which is then and there made of the
ordinance of preaching. The ages of decay and decline
have always been ages when the preaching in the Church
had declined first. The use of the Sacraments, it may
be said, the practice of confession and communion, the
use of prayer and of the solemn services and other means
of grace, are things independent of preaching, and have
in them a constant spring of Divine grace, which cannot
always be asserted of the habit of hearing sermons.
Thus, many persons are in the habit of thinking that
they can dispense with the practice of hearing the Word
The Office of the Preacher. 5 7
of God, without detriment to their spiritual state, as
others, in the same way, neglect altogether the reading
of the Word of God. The mistake in each case is very
great, 'and very pernicious. In the case of the great mass
of Christians, they need the constant preaching of the
Word to keep up in their minds any right knowledge as
to the Sacraments and the other means of grace, and
much more do they need the same Divine Word to rouse
their consciences to the state in which they are, to the
practice of the necessary Christian virtues and duties of
their state, and to move their hearts to the use of what
knowledge they possess. It is as foolish to think that
men will live up to the standard of Christian virtue,
merely because they know what they ought to be, as to
think that a heathen nation can be converted by being
taught to read, and then supplied with shiploads of
Bibles.
As a matter of fact, the neglect of the Sacraments and
of prayer are the inseparable results, in the masses of the
population, of the silence or of the degeneracy of the
Christian Pulpit, and it is quite possible for superstition,
or ignorance, or even heresy, to take possession of minds
that are not fed by the living Word, even though they
have the Sacraments at hand and are well supplied with
churches. To deprive a Catholic population of the Word
of God, as preached in the churches, is to threaten it
with the extinction of all vigour in its spiritual life. The
essential materials of such life may be there, but the light
is wanting to guide men to their use and to stir up the will
to enforce obedience to the light. The profitable use of
the Christian means of grace requires a very considerable
development of the moral intelligence, and also of the
manly vigour of the will in choosing and refusing. This
is so true, that it is notorious that a well trained Catholic
population, even of peasants who are unable to read or
58 The Office of the Preacher,
to write, is far more intellectually developed and far more
manly in character than another population by its side,
which may be in a higher stage as to the mere externals
of education, but which has not been taught to pray, to
apply its faith to the daily problems of life, to examine
its conscience, to frequent the Sacraments of Penance
and of Holy Communion. But the proper instrument of
the training of the minds, and hearts, and consciences of
the Catholic people is the Word of God in the widest
acceptation of the term, ranging from the simplest cate-
chetical instruction to the highest kinds of Christian
eloquence.
On the other hand, of all the means of grace which
we possess in the Church, the use of the ordinance of
preaching is that which it is most easy to neglect, on
account of the large part in it which appears simply
human. It requires the eye of faith to see that this is a
means of grace, through which God works most power-
fully, and that it is not the word of man alone, producing
no effects on the soul but such as are simply human.
Thus we find many Christians, otherwise good and care-
ful over the interests of their souls, habitually neglecting
sermons, and saying to themselves that they know before-
hand all fhat the preacher can say. Such language is in
effect \d deny that preaching is an ordinance of God
which yonveys grace to the soul, by which the heart and
will /te moved and the inteUigence enlightened, in a
manner quite independent of the capacities of the par-
ticular preacher. The true children of the Church think
and act very differently. We find souls full of spiritua
wisdom and lore, souls accustomed to the most familifi
intercourse with God, like St. Teresa, who will think it
sermon dull or tedious, no opportunity of hearings,
preacher a thing to be passed by, and who will delightat
every occasion of what is to them a spiritual feast, rd
The Office of the Preacher. 59
cannot be doubted which of these two states of mind is
the more Christian and the more salutary. The contempt
— for it sometimes amounts to contempt — of the spoken
word, is of most dangerous consequence to 'the soul.
Men become full of their own ideas on religious matters,
even in doctrine, they grow hard, self-centred, opinion-
ated, critical of everything they hear and of every person
around them, or again, and much more frequently, they
become the prey of an universal sloth or tepidity, which
makes their prayers worth almost nothing, their use of
the Sacraments most unprofitable, their zeal for the
interests of the Church and the cause of our Lord in
the world altogether cold and dead, or at least narrow,
which shuts up their hearts against the poor and makes
them easy victims to violent temptations of passion and
self-indulgence. And the root of the whole evil, the origin
of their decline in spirituality and, perhaps, even their
loss of virtue and of faith, may be found in the indolent
pride with which they either neglect altogether to hear
the Word of God, or, when they do hear it, sit in judg-
ment on what they hear with all the arrogance of literary
critics.
If it is thus dangerous to give in to the natural tempta-
tation — especially natural in days of shallow but universal
education — of sitting in judgment on the Word of God
as delivered in the Christian Church by her ordinarj-
ministers, and of forgetting altogether both its sacred
character and the Divine aids by which its fruits are
3cured in humble and pious minds and hearts, there is
30 an equal danger to the ministers of the Word them-
tves, lest, by any negligence or other fault of theirs, the
d)ple should be encouraged in the low view which is
mtetimes taken of this holy function. The times of
is ine and degradation, of which we have spoken, as
poig been marked by the neglect of the hearing of the
6o The Office of the Preacher.
Word of God, have generally been what they were from
the faults of the clergy as well as, or more than, from the
faults of the people. A corrupt or worldly clergy can
never long continue the diligent preaching of the Word
of God. The exercise of this function is too much of a
rebuke to themselves for it to remain palatable or even
tolerable. It is, in a true sense, the most delicate func-
tion in the whole range of the Apostolate, even more
delicate in this aspect, than the ministry of the Sacrament
of Penance itself, because in that case the good or the
evil is confined to single souls, while the faults or errors
of the preacher affect at once considerable bodies of
men. It is necessary for the hearers to keep up in them-
selves high ideas of the dignity of this office, and to
maintain that idea against the practical temptations pre-
sented by the cavillings of those who persist in regarding
it as a merely human function. It is no less necessary
for the preacher himself to understand the immense
responsibilities which are laid on him, and the amount of
prayer and of all possible preparation, which is required
for the right discharge of those responsibilities.
Instead of more on this subject, for which this is not the
place, we may find in the simple words of the Evangelist
a great trait of what is essential in this respect. The
Apostles were first of all to be with our Lord, and then
He was to send them out to preach. The language of
St. Mark does not contain even a hint of that physical
separation from our Lord which was necessary in the case
of their mission, as if to imply that their union with their
Divine Master was to be kept up, in a most true and
perfect manner, even while they were away from Him —
such union being possible and necessary in the spiritual
and moral sense, though not so in the physical. Thus
the Apostles were to be like the holy Angels, who perform
their work over the whole face of the universe, and yet
The Office of the Preacher. 6 1
are always standing before God in the closest union with
Him. In the same way the Apostles must be united
to our Lord in the discharge of their great office. Other
qualifications might be dispensed with, such as learning,
or eloquence, or a stately presence, and the like. But
this of union with our Lord, never. These two things,
the union with Him and their mission by Him to preach,
are so closely joined together in the sacred history, to
show, as it seems, that the last grows necessarily out of
the first. The effect of that intimate knowledge of our
Lord which the Apostles enjoyed was that they became
fit to preach His Word and in His name. It made them
know what to say and how to say it, how to conduct
themselves in all the circumstances of their mission, how
to labour fruitfully, and suffer patiently, what the message
was they were to deliver to the souls of men, and how to
make their own delivery of it a repetition of His own.
Such thoughts as these expanded in meditation would be
enough to furnish us with a complete explanation of the
duties of the Christian missioner. They would include
all the various forms and degrees of union with our Lord
which are necessary for such functions — union, not only
in grace and love, but in doctrine and teaching, in pur-
pose and intention, in spirit and in manner, in obedience,
in the poverty and humility of life which He insisted on,
in readiness to become the servants of others for His
sake, and the like.
CHAPTER IV.
Pozvers and Duties of the Apostles.
St. Matt. iii. 13 — 19 ; St. Luke vi. 12— 16 ; Vita Vitce NostrcE, § 46,
St. Mark adds to his short account of the objects of
our Lord, in the institution of the x\postolate, two more
particulars, which are of wide and pregnant meaning.
These are, that He gave the Apostles the twofold power,
to heal diseases and cast out devils. These powers
may be considered as necessary to the Apostles, in order
that they might authenticate their mission by miracles
of mercy, as our Lord had authenticated His own
mission. It would be necessary for them, having no
mission, in the ordinary sense of the term, from the
authorities at Jerusalem, and preaching, not in their
own name, but yet with authority in the name of
their Master, to possess some such evidence that their
mission came from God, especially as they had not the
priestly character as St. John Baptist had, nor the
austerity of life for which he was singular, and which
secured to him so much veneration. It was natural that
the preachers of the Kingdom of Heaven, who spoke
with authority and came from such close companionship
with the Incarnate Word Himself, should have had com-
municated to them some of the powers inherent in His
Sacred Humanity, and that in this way also, their
preaching should be identified with His. This, then,
might suffice as an explanation of these powers as given
to the Apostles, and which we cannot doubt that they
Powers and Duties of the Apostles. 63
exercised freely and with perfect success. But there are
also other aspects of this commission, on which Christian
contemplation may profitably linger.
We know that our Lord would never consent to
accredit His mission by what was a mere sign from
Heaven, and nothing more than a sign, such as had
been some of the signs mentioned in the Old Testament.
The reasons why He thus refused will be more properly
stated when we come to the incident of the request
directly made to Him to do what He declined to do.
It is enough to say here that the occasions on which
"signs," as such, had been vouchsafed in the Old
Testament, as in the case of Moses or of Gedeon, were
cases in which there was no other ordained witness
provided by God for the purpose of accrediting the
messenger or declaring His will. The case of our
Lord, to Whom all the Law and the Prophets bore
witness, was widely different Again, He never
used His miraculous powers for mere ostentation,
any more than for the hurt or destruction of any-
thing, for the withering of the fig-tree near Jerusalem
was quite as much a parable as a miracle.^ He always
showed His mission to be one of mercy, and it would
be a partial and incomplete account of His miracles to
represent them as simply evidences of power and nothing
more. Our Lord's miracles were merciful acts, flowing
from the tenderness of His Sacred Heart, as He found
Himself in the midst of so much human misery. It
is natural to think that if He had had no Divine mission
to assert and to prove. He might still have wrought
His miracles out of pure compassion. Nor has He re-
stricted the exercise of miraculous powers in His Church,
simply to cases in which the existence of such powers
might be useful in some sort of evidential way. Con-
^ St. Matt. xxi. 19 ; St. Mark xi. 14.
64 Powers and Duties of ike Apostles.
sidered as evidences, His miracles were such as they
were on account of the various forms of human misery
existing at the time and in the places, when and where
He preached. They symbolized and set forth in a
series of beautiful images the healing and delivering
power with which He was invested for the benefit of
souls, the maladies of which are so much more greivous
than those of the body, which indeed are, in a true
sense, the remote or the near consequences of the evils
of the soul. In this way also the miracles of our Lord
were evidences, not simply that He was sent by God,
but also that He was sent by God for the healing and
salvation of mankind. Mankind lay under two great
miseries, the misery of physical suffering, the conse-
quences of the fall, and the misery of moral suffering
and evil, also the fruit and sequel of original sin, but
not unconnected with the bondage to the devil in which
he had placed himself by his rebellion against his Maker.
Thus the tyranny of the devil was as real an evil as
the inheritance of human misery in the physical order,
and it was manifested, even to the outward eye by the
possessions by devils which were then so common, and
which are still to be met with far more frequently than
the men of our time like to be told. Our Lord's
dominion over the devils was thus another great
evidence of His Divine mission, parallel to His power
over diseases. His casting out the devils was also,
like His healing of diseases, not simply an evidence
of power, but an act of mercy, which represented
to the outward senses and perceptions the power
which He possessed, in the simply spiritual order,
of delivering men from the bondage of Satan, a power
the exercise of which might be felt by those in whose
favour it was exercised, but could not be directly per-
ceived by the outward eye.
Powers and Duties of the Apostles. 65
These two powers, then, were now imparted to the
Apostles by our Lord as belonging to their office. No
doubt, as has been said, they were most necessary and
most fitting, in the case of persons sent out,- as they
were, to preach in His name. They were evidences
such as those which He Himself adduced. But they
must also have represented, to the minds of the Apostles
themselves and to the minds of others, the character
of their mission and of the Gospel itself, in favour of
which they were granted. They must have fostered in
their hearts the tender compassion and charity which
they had learnt by their intercourse with their Lord
Himself. And much more than this may "be said on
this point. For it is inevitable that hearts so moved,
in imitation of the Sacred Heart Itself, to the constant
assistance of their neighbours' maladies, and to their
deliverance from the bondage of Satan, when that bond-
age had reached the terrible stage of possession, must
have been full of compassion for ordinary evils of the
same kind with those which they had extraordinary
powers of relieving. When they met with sick who
could be comforted by such services as can be rendered
by those who have no miraculous power to heal diseases,
and with the victims of the tyranny of the evil one in
temptation, and other spiritual assaults, short of the
phenomena of possession, it must be quite certain that
all the sympathy and help which the occasion permitted
would have been given them by the Apostles, who had
lived so intimately with our Lord. And it may well be
considered as intended in the Divine counsels, that the
miraculous powers vouchsafed, in these extraordinary
cases, to Apostolic men may have been granted in order
that it may be well understood in the Church, that it
is a part of the Apostolic mission to love all works of
charity, and to consider them as a duty belonging to
F 36
66 Powers and Ditties of the Apostles.
the office of those who have to preach the Gospel of
Jesus Christ. To the first Apostles our Lord said, as
we shall see, when He sent them forth to preach : ' Heal
the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out
devils, freely you have received, freely give.'- The
spirit which was to animate all these acts of mercy is
not the less enjoined on the Apostolic office, because
these particular manifestations of its mercifulness are
not within the power of all Apostolic men. If the sick
cannot be healed, they are to be cared for, if the dead
cannot be raised to life, tliey can be prayed for, if the
devils cannot be cast out, they can be prayed against
and resisted by the Word of God, the administration
of the sacraments, and the offering of the adorable
Sacrifice. The miracles wrought by the Apostles were
to be, to the world at large, the evidences of their
mission. The proofs of the divinity of the ordinary
Apostolate in the Church must be found in the constant
exercise of works of charity, to bodies as well as souls,
and in the constant conflict of the missioner against
the influence of the devils in society as well us in indi-
viduals.
It cannot be doubted that one of the greatest evidences
of Christianity, in its conflict with Paganism in the time
of the Roman Empire as yet unconverted, was the
charity displayed by the Christians among themselves
and towards others. It is impossible to read the Epistles
of St. Paul, without seeing that he did his best to breathe
into his converts the spirit of corporal, as well as of
spiritual, mercy. If we look to the lives of the great
Apostolic Saints, we find there not only the constant
use of miraculous powers in help of the sick, but also
great devotion to the sick-bed, great charity and care
for the sufferers who could not be relieved, or who
2 St. Matt. X. 8.
Powers and Duties of the Apostles. 6j
were not relieved, by the exercise of preternatural powers.
The first instinct of the Apostolic heart is the relief of
suffering in whatever form it presents itself, and the
ordinary charities, so to speak, of the saints are as
beautiful as their miracles and far more universal and
multitudinous. The works of St. Vincent de Paul are
as completely and thoroughly Apostolic as the wonders
wrought by St. Vincent Ferrer. No Apostolic man
ever turned away from the poor, the sick, the afflicted,
in any kind or phase of human suffering. Thus the
lesson of the miraculous powers here granted to the
Apostles becomes practical in the highest degree, to
all in the Church who have any share in their great office
and commission.
The same may be said, with equal truth, of the other
power mentioned in this place, the power to cast out
devils. It is a part of the instinct which God breathes
into the truly Apostolic heart, to recognize in a far more
than ordinary way, the truth that the conflict of the
Christian preacher is not with man alone, not with flesh
and blood, as St. Paul puts it in the Epistle to the
Ephesians, but with ^principalities and powers, against
the rulers of the world of this darkness, against the
spirits of wickedness in the high places.'^ That part
of his Epistle is particularly addressed to the priests
and sacred ministers of the Church, or churches, to
which he was writing, and he speaks as if this was a
truth of which persons in their position might need to
be reminded. It is a characteristic of the saints of
God, to recognize the action of the powers of evil in
the more ordinary events of the day, as they seem to be.
They see the agency of Satan in the discord which
arises among Christians and Catholics, in the mischief
that is the result of the opposition to good works and
3 Ephes. \i. 12.
68 Powers and Duties of the Apostles.
holy enterprizes on the part of good people, in the
intemperate zeal of some and the forward ambition of
others, the jealousies which prevent good, or the rash-
ness by which good is attempted only to be discredited.
They see Satan in the seeming accidents which befall
the workers of good, in the storms which shipwreck
the vessels in which missioners are borne to distant
lands, in the deaths of children after baptism, which
prejudice newly converted tribes against the teachers
of the faith, in the working of the evil eye and the evil
tongue, not more than in the physical catastrophes
which often 'work so much mischief in the world. Every-
where and on every occasion, they expect the opposition
of the powers of darkness, and they take this opposition
into their calculations with as much certainty as the
leader of a political party, who considers beforehand what
his enemies will say or do, in any given crisis or cast of
circumstances. The casting out of the devils from the
bodies of the possessed was but one incident in the
warfare in which the Apostles were unceasingly engaged
against the powers of Hell. And the fact that this gift
was committed to them, on their first call to their high
office, may serve to remind those who tread in their
footsteps, Avithout having any preternatural authority
over the devils, that the warfare is the same now as
then, and the malice of the evil spirits not less in our
days than in those in which they were permitted, by the
providence of God, to afflict mankind in ways and
manners which are comparatively unknown to later
times, at least in the more civilized countries, in which
the Church has been more or less in possession for
many generations. These two Apostolic instincts, then,
must be as vigorous and as incessant in their activity
in the Catholic priest or preacher, throughout all time,
as in the hearts of the Twelve themselves — the conviction
The Sermon on the Plain. 69
that they have, as a part of their mission, a duty to
practise to the utmost all works of charity, and the
constant daily and hourly sense of the presence and
malice of the unsleeping and implacable spiritual foes
whose powers they are sent to destroy.
CHAPTER V.
TJie Sennoji on the Plain.
St. Luke vi. 17 — 49 ; Vita Vitce Nostrcc, § 47, 48, 49.
Something has already been said, in a former part of
this work, on the question which has been frequently
raised concerning the identity, or difference, between the
Sermon of which we are now about to speak, and which
is given by St. Luke alone, and the great Sermon on
the Mount of which we have spoken at length in
former volumes. Our readers \\\\\ be prepared to find
that it would be quite out of harmony with the principles
on which this work has been designed, to consider these
two Sermons as having been, in their occasion and
delivery, one and the same. That their contents are, to
a considerable degree, identical, cannot be denied, nor
can any one wish to deny so obvious, and, at the same
time, so instructive a truth. It is an instructive truth,
because, as will be seen presently, it is extremely im-
portant to see our Lord setting the example of that
repetition of the same subject-matter to different
audiences, which has always been the custom with
those who have had large experience of the duty of
preaching His Word, and to be able to study the
manner in which He has, here and elsewhere, shaped
70 The Sermon on the Plain.
His delivery of the greater truths, in accordance with
the requirements or capacities of various audiences.
It would indeed be a great loss that we should be
obliged to acknowledge, if so it were, that we have here,
in St. Luke, merely the Evangelist's own adaptation, so
to speak, of the Sermon on the Mount. Such a belief
would render it almost useless to study the exact words
of any of the great discourses of our Lord, as revealing
to us the working of His own Divine mind. This is
not to say that we should lose thereby the whole fruit
of these divinely recorded sermons, nor is it necessary
to blame those ver}' numerous interpreters of Sacred
Scripture who have not felt any difficulty in the theory
which we are ourselves combating. The words of
Scripture are the words of the Holy Ghost, and nothing
less, however large a part may be allowed to the human
writers from whose pens they come to us. But there are
other reasons, besides these just now mentioned, for
clinging tenaciously to the principles of exposition which
we have adopted. Such reasons are to be found in the
constant method of St. Luke, already more than once
alluded to, of inserting in his Gospel things like to
what St. Matthew and St. Mark had inserted, rather than
exactly the same things. Again, it must be remem-
bered, that a close study of the Gospel history reveals
the truth that our Lord was constantly influenced, in the
degrees of reserve on the one hand, or openness on the
other, with which He communicated His Divine doctrine,
by the circumstances of the moment, especially and
most notably by the amount of resistance to His teach-
ing which He experienced, and by the state of the minds
of the people to whom He addressed Himself. This
principle of conduct on the part of our Blessed Lord
would require a very considerable change in His manner
of teaching at the time at which we are now arrived, and
The Se7'mon on the Plain. 71
we shall very soon have to record a still more remarkable
change in this respect, when we come to speak of His
adoption of the form of parables, as the only form in
which, after a certain time, He set forth the truths on
which He wished to insist to the mass of the people.
We should lose a great deal in our knowledge of our
Lord's method, if we were not able to dwell on it in
such a case as the present.
A close examination of the histor}', based entirely on
the data furnished us by the Evangelists themselves, and
requiring no other hypothesis to start from than that of
their intimate acquaintance with the narrative on which
they were occupied, their carefulness in the arrangement
of their matter, and in the silent notes of transition and
the like, which they themselves give us, shows us beyond
a doubt that the time at which -the delivery of this
Sermon must be fixed is a date considerably advanced
in the second year of our Lord's preaching, after He
had been to Jerusalem for the second of the Paschs
which occurred within the period of His active Ministry',
and after His return from Jerusalem into Galilee. To
say this is to say a great deal as to the change which
had come over the circumstances under which His
preaching was now to be carried on, even in Galilee.
He had been most decidedly rejected by the priests
and authorities at Jerusalem. He had braved their
opposition by the great miracle wrought at the pool on
the Sabbath day, and this had led to that long and
formal discussion, between Himself and them, of which
St. John has given us the account in his fifth chapter.
After that decided breach between our Lord and the
authorities, the whole condition of His teaching was
altered. We find the Evangelists dwelling especially at
this time on the incidents which marked the bitter
hostility of the Priests and Pharisees to our Lord. This
']2 The Sermon on the Plain,
is the purport of their account of the criticism on our
Lord for allowing the disciples to pluck the ears of corn
on the Sabbath, and of the other miracle on the Sabbath
day which soon followed. Then we have the record of
the new method of conduct adopted by our Lord, in
which St. Matthew, according to his custom, sees the
fulfilment of one of the beautiful prophecies of Isaias.
All this is now familiar to our readers. It is clear that
the conditions under which He now taught were largely
different from those under which He had taught during
the first year and at the time when the great Sermon on
the Mount had been delivered.
It must not be supposed that the Evangelists tell us
the whole story of the kind of organized persecution
which had now set in. The coalition, as we should term
it, between the Pharisees and the Herodians, that is, the
appeal made by the religious party opposed to our Lord
to the courtiers and political agents of the Tetrarch, was
not likely to evaporate in a few strong words, or in half
useless measures. The priests at Jerusalem, who were
at the head of this coalition, were extremely influential,
and their influence was great even in Galilee. Even
materially, they had great means at their disposal, on
account of the immense alms of which they were the
stewards, sent by the Jews all over the world, both for
the Temple and for the poor in Palestine. The
machinery of government, the bureaucracy, the police,
the courts of the Tetrarch, were at the command of the
allies with whom the Pharisees were now joined. It
cannot be supposed that the design of destroying our
Lord was a mere half-hearted velleity. Neither the
malice nor the means of execution could long be want-
ing. The priests at Jerusalem were becoming more and
more imbued with that stern blood-thirsty, heretical
spirit, of the action of which we have so many instances
The Sermon on the Plain. 73
in all ages of the Church and not least in our own.
Nor can it be supposed that the priests lost their power
over the people, the moment they opposed themselves
to our Lord. No doubt the multitude still thronged to
Him from all parts, in some measure for the sake of
His miracles, and in some measure, also, for the sake of
His Divine teaching. But the time was now come for
that sifting of the wheat from the chaff, which is a
necessary element in the history of all great religious move-
ments which have in them the germs of truth. The ears
of the people were filled with calumnies against our Lord.
His teaching was represented as contrary to that of
Moses, and as condemned by the authorities of the
sacred nation. It was fast becoming a dangerous thing
to be His adherent, and, in any large multitude there
are always many simple and courageous souls, but also
not a few who will follow a movement or a leader
as long as he is favoured, and as long as his
followers do not lose by him, but who will drop off as
soon as their own interests, or those of any who are
near them, are attacked or endangered by the enemies
of the new teaching. We shall soon have to speak of
our Lord's own description of the various classes of His
hearers, in the first of His great parables, and it is
enough here to allude to those various classes, and to
remind ourselves of the small percentage, so to speak,
of good and thoroughly honest souls which our Lord
there claims for Himself.
It must be remembered, also, that the preaching of
Divine truth is never without its effect for good or for
evil. It is what St. Paul calls either a savour of life or
a savour of death. ^ It was not possible that the popu-
lations, among whom our Lord had now been preaching
for more than a year, could be as they were before He
1 2 Ccr. ii. 16,
74 The Sermon on the Plain.
began. We know that the preaching of St. John Baptist
lasted for a shorter time than that of our Lord up to the
period of which we are now speaking, and yet our Lord
speaks as if that short time of the ministry of the Baptist
had been enough to decide the character of the future
course of those to whom that ministry was addressed.
As a general rule, those who received St. John were
made thereby fit to receive our Lord, while those who
rejected him, as a general rule, were found among the
enemies of our Lord. The people had had their time of
visitation, and it was soon over, though the effects of
their behaviour during those few months lasted on almost
unaltered. If that was the case with the nation at large,
in respect of the preaching of St. John, how much more
decisive may we believe the effect of the reception or
rejection of our Lord to have been on the population of
Galilee ! We are almost startled to find how severely
our Lord, soon after this time, could speak of the terrible
judgment which awaited Capharnaum, Bethsaida, Coro-
zain, and the other places in which He had preached,
and in which His mighty works of mercy had been
wrought. This language of our Lord could not be the
language of exaggeration. It is probable that the guilt
of rejecting Him was greater, in the eyes of God, than
in its description in His own reproachful words. But
these words open to us the thought of the darkness,
which was now setting in over so many thousands of
souls, which had enjoyed the most blessed opportunities
of profiting by His teaching and who had not been
found worthy to retain it. It is not surprising, then,
that we should find Him treating the people with com-
parative reserve at this time, and, indeed, it would be
far more surprising if we were to see no change in His
demeanour towards them, after so long a time of profit-
less work among them.
The Sermon on the Plain, 75
These considerations touch only partially the notes of
difference, so carefiilly heaped up by St. Luke in respect
of the audience on the occasion of the Sermon which he
has preserved to us, as contrasted with that to which the
Sermon on the Mount was delivered. The delivery of
the Sermon on the Mount was an occasion almost, if not
altogether, unique in the teaching of our Lord. It was
delivered to a large multitude, but a multitude apparently
composed of those who were already, by a sort of pro-
fession, disciples of our Lord. It is a solemn lawgiving,
the assembly is like that collected in an immense church,
on some great festival, and the subject-matter of the
Sermon is such as to show the high perfection to which
many of the hearers were undoubtedly called. Without
repeating what has been said elsewhere on this part of
the subject, it is enough to remark that St. Luke des-
cribes the audience collected for this Sermon on the
Plain in words which convey a very different picture.
He distinguishes three classes among the audience. In
the first place he mentions the Apostles, who had just
been nominated. They come down with our Lord from
the mountain, in which their election had taken place,
after He had spent the night in prayer. Next to the
Apostles, St. Luke mentions a crowd of His disciples
— evidently a large band of professed believers and
followers, who were probably living in a kind of
organized community, like the bands which followed
St. Vincent Ferrer in his preaching. Besides these
disciples, there is a third element in the audience,
which is entirely wanting in the audience of the Sermon
on the Mount. ' A very great multitude of people from
all Judea and Jerusalem, and the sea-coast, both of Tyre
and Sidon.' It cannot be supposed that St. Luke has
added these features to the picture at random. They
certainly mean that, besides the usual crowd of Galilean
76 The Sermon on the Plain.
listeners, many of whom were already faithful disciples,
while others may have been wavering, in consequence
of the difficulties of all kinds which threatened His
teaching, there were now present a large number of
strangers, partly from distant parts of the Holy Land, and
partly also from the neighbouring heathen coasts of Tyre
and Sidon. The Evangelist adds that these had come
to hear Him, and also to be healed of their diseases.
This mention of miracles, and of the crowds in search
of them, is a feature which does not meet us in the
audience of the Sermon on the Mount. ' And they that
were troubled with unclean spirits, were cured, and all
the multitude sought to touch Him, for virtue went out
from Him and healed all' He was to them far more
of a wonder-worker and healer of diseases than a moral
or religious teacher. These considerations certainly
prepare us for finding some notable difference between
the discourse delivered now, and the Sermon on the
Mount.
The object of the Sermon seems to have been, partly
the instruction of the people, perhaps also the furnishing
to the Apostles a kind of model which they might
remember and keep in mind when they had themselves
to preach the Divine truths to a promiscuous audience.
For one of the objects mentioned by the Evangelists,
as having been in the mind of our Lord when He chose
His Apostles, was that He might send them out to
preach, though this purpose was not actually put into
execution until a somewhat later period. The difference
between the two discourses, which we have been led to
expect from the foregoing remarks, would arise from a
twofold source — from the great mixture of strangers
among the crowd to whom our Lord addressed Himself
on this occasion, and from the changes which had
occurred in the attitude of the people in general towards
The Sermon on the Plain. 77
Him on account of the persecution of the Pharisees and
Priests. It will be easy to trace the influence of these
two causes, if we suppose the Sermon on the Mount to
be a sort of store from which our Lord has on this
occasion selected portions for His present purpose,
leaving other and larger portions altogether aside.
The first and most striking of all the diversities be-
tween the two several discourses meets us at the very
outset. Each discourse begins with a series of Beati-
tudes, and it seems difficult to think that the latter
series is drawn up without some respect to the former.
On this occasion our Lord addresses Himself in the
first place to His own disciples, as if He left for the
moment the other hearers to themselves. ' He, Hfting
up His eyes on His disciples, said, Blessed ye poor !
for yours is the Kingdom of Heaven.' The Beatitude,
by its form and by the reward which is coupled with it,
reminds us of the first of the former Beatitudes. But
there is a striking difference, inasmuch as in the former
case the poor in spirit were declared blessed, and here it
is the actually poor. The two Beatitudes which follow
are, in the same way, echoes of the former Beatitudes,
but with changes which make them decidedly new.
' Blessed are ye that hunger now 1 for ye shall be filled.
Blessed ye that weep now ! for you shall laugh.' It is
not necessary to insist much on the difference between
hungering and thirsting after justice, and that hunger
which can be filled in the ordinary way by food, nor be-
tween the state of those who weep simply, and who shall
be comforted by laughter, and the mourners of the first
series of Beatitudes. The fourth of these Beatitudes is
that which most accurately coincides with the Beatitude
from which it is taken in the Sermon on the Mount.
It is that single one of the earlier Beatitudes, which
related to the external condition and treatment of the
yS The Sermon on the Plain.
disciples at the hands of others. It is not a state of
heart or mind, not an act of virtue, but a condition
depending on the action and behaviour of the world.
' Blessed shall you be when men shall hate you, and
when they shall separate you, and shall reproach you,
and cast out your name as evil for the Son of Man's
sake, be glad in that day and rejoice, for behold
your reward is great in Heaven, for according to these
things did their fathers unto the Prophets.'
It can hardly be necessary to insist on the very great
importance of the Beatitudes which, after having been
spoken of by our Lord in the Sermon on the Mount, are
omitted in this Sermon. The blessings there pronounced
on the poor in spirit, on the mourners, on those who
hunger and thirst after justice, may be said to be very
much modified and restricted in their scope by the
language now used by our Lord. But the blessings on
the meek, on the merciful, (5n the clean of heart, and on
the peacemakers, are altogether omitted. And although
it may be truly said that the shorter list involves the
longer, it is certain that if we had no other declaration of
our Lord on the subject of the Beatitudes than that
which is given in this Sermon on the Plain, we should be
without the light of at least one half of this glorious
constellation, by which so much of the noblest Christian
perfection has been guided in its following of Him.
But the diversities in these Beatitudes do not stop
here. The Beatitudes of which we are now speaking are
followed by a series of woes, denounced on their
contraries — a feature altogether new in the recorded
teaching of our Lord. These four woes correspond
exactly to the four Beatitudes of this discourse, and their
language leaves no doubt on the mind as to the manner
in which the Beatitudes themselves are to be understood.
To the poor are opposed the rich, to the hungry those
The Sermon ou the Plain. 79
who are filled, to those who weep those who laugh now,
and to the persecuted and reviled those whom men now
bless. The woes have all their several punishment or
curse. The rich are declared miserable, because they
have their consolation, and so, it is implied, will not
have it hereafter. Those who are full shall hunger by
and bye, those who laugh shall mourn and weep, and the
curse of those who are blessed by men is that 'these
things did their fathers unto the false prophets.' These
woes then, to which we shall presently return, show very
plainly the literal sense in which the words as to poverty,
fulness, and laughter, are to be taken in the Beatitudes
to which they correspond.
After the Beatitudes we find a large gap in the repe-
tition of the Sermon on the Mount which is here set
forth. The Sermon on the Mount contained, in the
next place to the Beatitudes, some sentences addressed
to the disciples in jmrticular, speaking of them as the
salt of the earth and as the light of the world. These
sentences are altogether wanting in the second discourse.
Instead of continuing His address to His disciples in
particular, our Lord seems to turn to the more general
audience which crowded round them, a large portion of
which may have been composed even of heathens from
Tyre and Sidon, and He begins the second part of the
Sermon with words which seem to point out the class to
whom He speaks more directly. * But I say to you that
hear.' And it is not surprising, therefore, that the
sentences in question, which occur in the Sermon on
the Mount, should be wanting here. The whole section
on what may be called the special justice of the Gospel
is omitted, with an exception of which we shall presently
speak. Nothing is said about our Lord's mission to
fulfil and not to destroy the Law. Nothing is said about
the necessity of a justice greater than that of the Scribes
8o The Sermon on the Plain.
and Pharisees in the true disciples of Jesus Christ, and
those corrections of the false interpretations of the Law,
as to anger, lust, and the like, which follow, are also
omitted. This involves the omission of the marvellous
teaching concerning the gift which is to be left before
the altar, in order that we may first be reconciled to our
brother, concerning the speedy agreement with our
adversary, to which is appended the passage about the
prison from which we shall not issue without paying the
last farthing, and that also concerning the casting out
or cutting off of the right eye or the right hand, if they
are to us a cause of danger. In the same way the
instruction about the bill of divorce, so full of pregnant
meaning as to the future legislation of our Lord on that
subject, is wanting here, as well as the passage which
forbids swearing and retaliation.
But it is very remarkable that when we reach this
point in the Sermon on the Mount, we find our-
selves once again on ground where the second Sermon,
of which we are now speaking, takes up the former
teaching. For now our Lord begins that part of the
Sermon on the Plain which is addressed to the pro-
miscuous multitude, and He begins it with instructions
which echo the words of the Sermon on the Mount.
' I say to you that hear, love your enemies, do good to
them that hate you, bless them that curse you, and
pray for them that calumniate you.' Even the injunctions
about turning the other cheek to the smiter and giving
the coat to him who has taken the cloak, are here
repeated, and the general principle is laid down, that
we are to do to others as we would they should do to
us. Then follow the arguments about the kindness and
goodness of sinners to those who love them, and the like,
implying that a far higher perfection is to be expected of
those who follow His own teaching. And the passage
The Sermon on the Plain,
ends by the words : ' Love ye your enemies, do good
and lend, hoping nothing in return thereby, and your
reward shall be great, and you shall be the sons of the
Highest, for He is kind to the unthankful and the
evil. Be ye therefore mercifulj as your Father also is
merciful.'
The passage which follows on these instructions is also
to be found in the Sermon on the Mount. But before
we proceed to consider this resemblance to the former
discourse, we must pause to note another most important
series of omissions in the later Sermon. For, at the
point which we have now reached in the former teaching,
our Lord on the Mount added all those marvellous
instructions about almsdeeds, fasting, and prayer, in-
cluding the prayer which goes by His own name, which
fill so large a place in the doctrine of that first Sermon.
And not less remarkable is it that the next great section
also, which contains His instructions to His disciples
about laying up treasure in Heaven, about not serving
two masters, about the necessity of being absolutely free
from solicitude and care for the morrow, and the perfect
abandonment of ourselves, as to all these matters, to the
providence of the Father, are also omitted in the second
Sermon. That is, as we shall presently have to observe,
this Sermon omits here also that part of the Sermon on
the Mount which is specially addressed to those who
are to follow our Lord in perfection. But the Sermon
on the Plain takes up again the former teaching at this
point, where the subject of instruction is the duty of
not judging and not condemning. And it is also to be
added to the notable differences between these two
representations of the same main doctrine to different
audiences, that here again the Sermon on the Plain is
actually more copious than the far longer Sermon with
which we are comparing it. This instance of greater
G 36
S2 The Sermon on the Plain.
•copiousness is fully in keeping, also, with the general
•character of St. Luke's Gospel. 'Give and it shall be
igiven to you, good measure, and pressed down, and
shaken together, and running over, shall they give into
your bosom, for with the same measure that you shall
mete withal it shall be measured to you again.'
There is the same kind of amplification about the
<ioctrine which next follows, that about not casting out
the mote from our brother's eye while we have a beam
in our own. This is introduced in the second Sermon
by a similitude, as St. Luke calls it. ' Can the blind
dead the blind ? Do they not both fall into the ditch ?
The disciple is not above his master, but every one
rshall be perfect, if he be as his master.' And then
follows the expanded passage about the mote and the
beam. Then we come again to a point at which there
is an omission. The passage in the first Sermon about
not giving what is holy to dogs or casting pearls before
swine, is wanting here. So also is the passage which
follows, about the power of prayer, 'Ask and it shall
be given to you,' and the rest. The image of the
father who is asked by his son for bread, and will not
give him a stone, in which our Lord appeals from their
own paternal feelings to their children, to show how
ready God must be to hear prayers, is left out, and the
words also which follow about the strait gate and the
narrow way.
It is at this point that we come to another remarkable
feature in the new Sermon. Hitherto we have had to
notice omissions and repetitions, with occasional ex-
pansions in the shorter Sermon of what had been said
. less fully in the longer. But now our Lord seems to
take up words which belong to the Sermon on the
Mount and give them a different connection from that
which they had in the teaching there delivered. For
The Sermon 07i the Plain, 8
J
He connects some words, which are spoken there about
the false prophets who are to be known by their works,
wth the words which immediately precede them in their
new place in the Sermon on the Plain. He had last
spoken of the foolishness of the blind leading the blind,
of those who had their own faults uncorrected setting
up to correct those of others. ' For,' He says : ' There
is no good tree that bringeth forth evil fruit, nor an evil
tree that bringeth forth good fruit. For every tree is
known by its fruit. For men do not gather figs from
thorns, nor from a bramble bush do they gather the
grape. A good man, out of the good treasure of his
heart, bringeth forth that which is good, and an evil
man, out of the evil treasure, bringeth forth that which
is evil. For out of the abundance of the heart the
mouth speaketh.' These last words occur elsewhere in
our Lord's teaching, but they do not form part of the
Sermon on the Mount. We shall return to the subject
of the change of connection mth regard to the former
words in the passage, when we come to speak of them in
detail.
The conclusion of the Sermon on the Plain is very
like indeed to the conclusion of the Sermon on the
Mount, but it is not identical therewith. Instead of the
passage about those who call Him Lord, Lord, not all
entering into the Kingdom, we have now simply the ques-
tion, 'Why call you me Lord, Lord, and do not the things
which I say ? ' And the kind of parable at the end of
the first Sermon about the two builders, on the sand
and on the rock, is repeated, though with some little
change of form. This is what an examination of the
two Sermons shows us, as to the changes made by our
Lord on this later occasion. We may now proceed
to consider whether this comparison reveals to us any-
thing as to the mind of our Lord in making these
changes.
84 The Sermon on the Plain.
If, as has been supposed, the first part of the second
Sermon was addressed directly to our Lord's disciples or
to the Apostles themselves, it is obvious that the change
in the Beatitudes is very significant. There is altogether
a want of the high spiritual doctrine, the calm teaching
of the great principles of perfection, which marks the
opening sentences of the Sermon on the Mount. The
disciples are directly addressed, instead of general
principles being promulgated, which may apply to others
as well as to them. Our Lord speaks of you poor, you
who hunger now, you who Aveep now, you who are hated
and your names cast out for the sake of the Son of Man.
There is nothing to extend the language beyond the
outward and visible condition of a band of men, devoted
to the service of God, perhaps even now practising
Evangelical poverty, and branded by the hatred of the
world for the very fact of their external adherence to
our Lord. Even that beautiful title itself of the Son of
Man is new in this Sermon, for it had not been used
on the former occasion. All this seems to point to the
change which had really taken place in the position of
our Lord, and in consequence, of His disciples also,
on account of the persecution to which He and they
w^ere now exposed. And it would seem as if the
presence of the other large multitude of strangers had
something to do with the reticence of our Lord as to
those higher points of doctrine contained in the former
series of Beatitudes, as well as the omission of His
language about the salt of the earth, and the rest.
But, when we remember that, after these four new Beati-
tudes, so different in form from the former Beatitudes,
and after the entirely novel addition of the woes which
are contrasted with them, our Lord turns in this dis-
course more exclusively to the multitude at large, it
is indeed most instructive to observe the heads of
The Sermon on the Plain. 85
teaching which He considers adapted for them, and
those which He seems to omit as unfitted for them.
The allusions to the Law and to its overgrowth of human
interpretations are entirely natural, as addressed to the
audience of the Sermon on the iSlount, and their
omission is equally natural here. The same thing may
be said of the instructions in the former Sermon as to
the manner and intention with which the great duties
of almsgiving, prayer, and fasting are to be discharged.
But it is very significant that our Lord should have
insisted so strongly, in this second Sermon, on the. love
of enemies, and the other acts of charity, on which He
does insist. It may be supposed that the presence of
some heathen, or at least of some very uninstructed
Jews, from distant parts, who came to Him rather for
the sake of His miracles, than for the sake of His
spiritual doctrine, may have made Him lower the whole
tone of the second Sermon to their level, even though
there may have been many present to whom the higher
teaching of the Sermon on the Mount might have been
addressed without danger of any violation of the precept
about pearls and swine. For it is almost a principle
in the Evangelical ministry of preaching, that the most
ignorant of the audience are to be addressed rather than
the most instructed. But, as has been said, it is most
significant that our Lord does not keep back the duty
of the forgiveness of injuries, and the love of enemies.
In truth, this, which is the central part of the second
Sermon, in which so many of the points of doctrine of the
Sermon on the Mount are kept back, is nevertheless
that part of the whole in which our Lord has enlarged
on those few points which He has selected and which
are not omitted.
If, as seems the most probable conclusion to form
concerning the audience whom our Lord now had in
S6 The Sermon on the Plain.
view, these parts of the Sermon are directly addressed
to those who were either scarcely informed at all about
the true religion, or had but a comparatively limited
knowledge thereof, we may surely learn from this selec-
tion of subjects, on which He speaks to them, how He
would have the ministers of the Gospel deal with persons
in similar conditions. These heathen, or half-heathen,
people, were not to be reminded of the duty of alms-
deeds or fasting or prayer, though these are all duties
which belong to the code of natural religion, at least
in principle, nor are they as yet to be instructed in
simplicity of intention, in abandonment of all care of
temporal things into the hands of God. But they are
still to be urged with the precept of the forgiveness of
injuries and the love of enemies. They are still to be
told that it is better to turn the other cheek to the
smiter, and to suffer injury, rather than to seek to avenge
it. The great principle t)f doing unto others as we
would have them do to us, is laid on them as a rule.
And our Lord argues with them as He had argued in
the Sermon on the Mount, that it could be no point
at all of perfection to love those who love us, to do
good to those who do good to us, and to lend to those
from whom we hope to receive again. These are things
which even sinners do, out of motives of self-interest,
* But love ye your enemies, do good and lend, hoping
for nothing thereby, and your reward shall be great, and
you shall be the sons of the Highest, for He is kind
to the unthankful, and to the evil.' Here is the same
motive, that of being the children of God, which is
urged in the Sermon on the Mount. And that very
highest of all the precepts there inculcated, *Be ye
perfect, as your Father AVho is in Heaven is perfect/
is here also set forth under another form, in which the
one quality of mercy is substituted for all perfection.
The Sermon on the Plain. ^f
' Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merci-
ful.'
We are thus led on to see that our Lord treats even
those who are not far advanced in His school — if we
may not say with certainty, those who hardly know
more than natural religion — as lying under the obligation
of that commandment of mutual charity and brotherly
love of which the Sacred Scripture speaks as having
been laid on man from the very beginning. The key-
note of this part of the Sermon is, that we shall be dealt
with in the same way as we deal with others. And thisi
law is one of universal application, and is a law for the
heathen as well as for the Jew or Christian. It extends^
as we see in the following verses, to judgment and
thought as well as to action, and in action it extends as
far as the forgiveness of injuries. Its sanction is the decree
of God, Whom all who have a conscience acknowledge
as their Judge and Master, that the measure of His.
judgment of us shall be the measure of our judgments
and dealings with one another. And He is not afraid
to appeal to the instinctive sense which lies deep in the
human heart, that God is a Father as well as a Master,,
and that He deals with us as children and expects us tO'
behave as His children. These, then, are truths which-
are not to be kept for those who are to be led on to«
perfection only, along the high and pure path of the
beatitudes and the counsels. They are not to be kept
back even from those who have not as yet a firm grasp-
of revelation and of supernatural religion.
In this second great Sermon, then, we have, as has.
been hinted already, our Lord giving us His own perfect
example in the method which should be followed in the
adaptation of the same system of Divine truths and
doctrines to an audience different in many respects from
one to which they have been already once delivered^
88 The Sermon on the Plain,
We have Him acting with great delicacy and reserve, in
keeping back from some who were not fit to receive
them, the more exquisite and lofty truths regarding
Christian perfection, which He had so freely and so
confidently communicated to others. We have Him, in
the second place, adding, in the four Woes, the motive of
fear to the motive of hope which He had used in the first
Sermon. We have Him selecting, according to His
Divine prudence and knowledge of mankind, certain
doctrines, out of a great chain, and leaving others
untouched. We have Him expanding the points which
He selected, at the same time that He entirely omitted
others. We find Him also setting an example of that
very fruitful, but at the same time difficult, method of
instruction, in which one class of persons is addressed
in the presence of another class, with a view to the
benefit of both, as is done, for instance, in all public
catechizing. It is, therefore, entirely contrary to the facts
of the case to regard this Sermon as a summary of the
former Sermon. We find our Lord ever changing the
connection and selection of some of the matter which
He repeats, while at the same time He freely repeats
other points in words almost identical with those which
He had used before. This, therefore, is a great and a
fresh gain for all those who have to follow Him and His
Apostles in the application of the same Divine truths,
time after time, to different audiences.
CHAPTER VI.
TJie Blessings ajid the Woes.
St. Luke vii. 20—26 ; Vita Viice NostrcB, § 47,
From the general consideration of the lessons which
may be gathered from a comparison of the two great
Sermons of our Lord which are preserved for us by the
Evangelists, we may proceed now to a more particular
examination of that with which we are more imme-
diately concerned, the Sermon on the Plain. It will be
found that we shall by no means do our duty, in con-
templating these Divine words of our Lord, if we
simply consider them as repetitions of the lessons
already delivered in the former Sermon, and that we
shall be abundantly repaid if we study them by them-
selves, in the light of the knowledge, furnished us by
the Evangelist who records them, concerning the occa-
sion and the audience to which our Lord was addressing
himself
St. Luke gives us in a very few touches almost a
complete picture of the scene which met the eye at the
time of this great teaching of our Lord. The mixed
multitude is thronging round our Lord, striving, in their
eagerness to obtain some miraculous favour, to touch
Him. They are anticipating the faith of the woman of
whom we shall soon have to speak, who came behind
Him, as He was passing through the street of Caphar-
naum on the way to the house of Jairus, the ruler of the
synagogue, and who said to herself that if she could but
90 The Blessings and the Woes.
touch the hem of His garment, she should be healed.
It is difficult to imagine how our Lord could have freed
Himself from their importunities so as to have the oppor-
tunity of preaching to them, but it is likely that with
Him, as with some of the great wonder-workers among
His Saints in later times, the people were more or less
accustomed to some order of time, so that it was easy
to arrange them and quiet them for the purposes of the
discourse. Or we may, perhaps, suppose that here, as
on other occasions of which we have record, He healed
every one of those who came to Him for cure, and then
began His Sermon. ' Virtue,' says the Evangelist, ' went
forth from Him and healed them all.' It was His will
to allow His powers of healing to flow forth on all who
touched Him, even without His usual solemn action of
laying His hands upon them. Thus they were prepared
for the Divine teaching, which was as much more im-
portant to them than His miraculous powers of healing,
as the soul is more valuable than the body. It would
seem, also, that there were ranks in which the audience
were arranged, at least that the disciples were separated
from the others. And then, in the silence which fell on
that lately noisy and eager crowd, struggling with each
other, who should get near to Him first, and each one
pleading his own cause, or the cause of the sick friend
or relative whom he had brought for relief of bodily
ailment or misery, our Lord began to speak. St. Luke
tells us that He lifted up His eyes on His disciples, for
it was our Lord's wont to keep His eyes modestly down,
and yet He laid aside the demeanour of perfect and
most humble recollection when He was to preach, for in
preaching He probably sanctioned in Himself the prac-
tice of His servants, who have followed Him in that high
duty, and made His whole attitude and all His gestures
and looks serve to enforce the teaching on which He
Tlie Blessings and the Woes. 91
was engaged. We are told more than once, that His
manner of preaching was such as to leave Him in a state
of great physical exhaustion. He spoke first, of and to
His disciples, that is, He addressed them in such a way
as to instruct the others by means of His words to them.
' Blessed ye poor, for yours is the Kingdom of Heaven.'
Although the reward here spoken of is the same as that
of the first and last of the former Beatitudes, yet the
Beatitude is certainly not the same. The words in the
original are not ' ye poor,' but ' the poor,' but the limita-
tion or definition of the poverty which is blessed, as that
which was practised by the disciples, is conveyed in the
fact that our Lord looked to them as He was speaking,
and also in the form of the other blessings, which are
directly addressed to them. It is therefore actual
poverty which is here declared by our Lord to be blessed,
as afterwards He blesses actual weeping and actual
hunger. But it is not all actual poverty which has this
blessing, for to say that would be to challenge the
Providence of God, by which it is that there are diversi-
ties of conditions in human society, and that salvation
and perfection can be gained in all, as in all it is also
possible to lose the soul. It is our Lord's own doctrine in
the great parable of the Husbandmen in the Vineyard,
that the greatest rewards in the next world are not con-
nected, by any invariable rule, with even the highest
rehgious privileges and opportunities in this world.
Thus, though, as we shall presently see, the state of
actual poverty is in itself a blessed state, inasmuch as it
gives the soul many opportunities and even facilities for
virtue, which are not to be found, as an ordinary rule,
among the rich, stiU it is not all actual poverty, but
actual poverty with certain dispositions, which inherits
the great blessing here promulgated. It is the actual
poverty as practised now by the Apostles and some
92 The Blessings and the Woes.
others of the disciples, that is, actual povert}' conjoined
with poverty of spirit, which has the Kingdom of
Heaven. It may, or not, be the case, as some inter-
preters have maintained, that the little community of
the Apostles was now formed by our Lord into a small
religious body, and that the Apostles were bound, as by
vow, to the practice of the counsels, of which this of
poverty is the first. But, at all events, it must be under-
stood that the Apostles were not only actually poor, but
poor in spirit also, as well as not only poor in spirit, but
actually poor also. The poverty, then, which is here
spoken of is that actual poverty which is united to the
spirit of poverty, whether it be in the so-called religious
state, or outside it. And this poverty has a blessing of
its own. Nor can the true doctrine about Christian
poverty be understood fully, unless this blessing is taken
into account. A few considerations will show us this
truth.
In the first place, it is a better thing to be poor both
in spirit and actually, than in spirit only. For this
doctrine was laid down by our Lord when He said, ' If
thou wilt be perfect, go sell what thou hast and give to
the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in Heaven and
come follow me.'^ It is not inconsistent with this, that
there may be many more perfect souls in the state of
spiritual poverty, than others who are found in actual
poverty. The question is of the two conditions in
themselves. The actually poor whose dispositions are
such as are here spoken of, do something more than
forsake all things in spirit. They forsake all things both
in spirit and in deed. They have therefore all that the
others have, and something else besides.
In the next place, actual poverty is a great help towards
gaining the perfection of poverty of spirit, as actual
1 St. Matt, xix. 21.
\
The Blesshigs and the Woes. 93
mortification is a great help towards gaining mortification
of the interior man, and as humiHation is a great advan-
tage in the pursuit of humiUty. Thus, if for no other
reason, actual poverty would be valuable, because it
paves the way to the spirit of poverty, which is the
subject of the first Beatitude.
Again, actual poverty is a great help to that perfect
abandonment of all care and that absolute dependence
upon God, which are so strongly recommended by our
Lord in the Sermon on the Mount. It makes it easy to
trust ourselves to Him Who feeds the birds of the air and
clothes with beauty the flowers of the field, and in
consequence, makes those who have it ready to depend
on God as their Father, and to leave themselves to His
care. Thus it brings down on them the blessings of
being actually cared for by Him in a marvellous way, so
that they have experience of His Fatherhood towards
them which others have not, and this breeds in them joy
and courage in His service, which make them fit to
receive still greater favours at His hands, and to be
entrusted with great commissions for His service. Such
persons have a knowledge of the goodness of God, of
the infinity of His bounties and the delicacy of His care
over those who belong to Him, which is wanting in
others who have not so entirely deprived themselves of
all other resources but those of His Providence, and in
consequence of this knowledge, they are ready to look
to Him for assistance in the future, when they are to
start on any new work for His glory, with all the confi-
dence and security of the angels themselves. Thus it is
a matter of history in the Church, that these persons
have been those who have wrought the greatest things
for Him. On the other hand, the presence of possess-
ions, even when there is poverty of spirit, cannot but be
a burthen and a danger. And in many cases, as we see
94 The Blessings and the Woes.
in the rich young man, who had kept the Command-
ments of God from his youth up, they constitute just that
one tie which prevents the perfect fidelity of a soul
which is called to some high vocation. This is very
much the case when the service of God requires danger,
exposure to the loss of worldly position, dishonour in
the eyes of men, and the like. Property is so mixed up
with all the other kinds of earthly goods, that its
possession cannot but be a snare to many souls, while
to many others it is an impediment which has to be
conquered with difficulty, according to that saying of our
Lord, that it is difficult for a rich man to enter into the
Kingdom of Heaven.
The condition of the disciples, as they now were
gathered into a small community by our Lord, was un-
doubtedly one of poverty, but it had also other features
which were still more uninviting to human judgment. It
is not always the lot of the poor to be absolutely
destitute, and we have already seen that the disciples
had been fain to pluck the ears of corn as they passed
through the fields, and rub them in their hands that they
might satisfy the cravings of actual hunger. On the
occasion of which we are speaking, it seems probable
that they had spent the night like our Lord in prayer,
and had been occupied since morning in arranging and
assisting the crowds, who had come to Him to be healed.
At all events, hunger, actual hunger, the fruit of poverty
stretched even to destitution, was no uncommon lot in
their lives. Our Lord takes this feature also and pro-
nounces on it His Divine Blessing, fruitful of grace and
merit. ' Blessed are you who hunger now, for you shall
be filled.' Here again we touch a new subject of
benediction. The practice of abstinence, from which
human nature shrinks, even in those who are desirous of
advancing in the service of God, is now set forth by our
The Blessings and the Woes. 95
Lord as worthy of special commendation, at a time when
He said so few things of this sort to the people. If
this is so, it may well be worth our while to remind our-
selves of the praises which the Fathers have heaped, as
it were, on this holy practice, besides, setting us the
example which modern delicacy is so afraid to follow.
The occasion on which they speak of this virtue is
often that of the temptation and fasting of our Lord.
St. Cyprian, for example, tells us that abstinence empties
the sink of vice, dries up petulance, makes the concu-
piscences languish, and drives false pleasure to flight.
Etna, he says, is extinguished and does not any longer
set the neighbouring mountains on fire. He speaks, of
course, of the volcano of concupiscence. He says that
if fasting be discreetly managed, it subdues the rebellion
of the flesh and disarms the tyranny of gluttony. It
shuts out disorderly movements, it binds up wandering
appetites. If it be united with humility, it makes the
servants of God despisers of the world. It is fed on the
delightful pastures of Sacred Scripture, it is refreshed by
contemplation, it is made strong by grace, it is nourished
with heavenly food. And he goes on to quote the
instance of Daniel, and the three holy children, of
Moses and of Elias.-
The condition of the disciples was still further one of
affliction. The enmity of the world, and their own
poverty and labouring life, made them appear persons
from whose existence all joy was banished. It is this
characteristic of their condition on which our Lord
fastens, in the next place, to declare that this too has its
own peculiar blessing. ' Blessed you that weep now, for
you shall laugh.' It is probable as has been said, that it
is this simple material affliction, borne in the spirit and
manner in which it was borne in the school of our Lord,
* St. Cypr. Serm. dejejunio et tentatione Christi.
g6 The Blessings and the Woes.
that He here speaks of as blessed. The spiritual
mourning, such as that for sin, our own or that of others,
for the miseries of the world, the offence against God of
which it is so full, for the danger of souls, the difficulties
of salvation, the scandals of the Church, the delay of
the possession of God, all that kind of mourning is
made the subject of the Beatitude in the Sermon on the
Mount. The Greek word in the passage before us is
the simple word which signifies weeping. All the
external afflictions, affecting either the body as in sick-
ness and bad health, or the material condition, as in the
case of bereavement, loss of friends or fortune and the
like, fall under the head of this blessing. Our Lord
does not pass even this common condition by, but gives
it His benediction. It fills up the list, so to speak, of
the external conditions of Beatitude, with which He is
here concerned.
The doctrine of this passage is, that these external ills
of which men are so much afraid, poverty, hunger, and
misery, are connected in the good Providence of His
Father, Who has arranged the order of the world and
allowed their existence as elements of our present state
of probation, with distinct blessings of their own. In
the former sermon our Lord had spoken of spiritual con-
ditions ; now He leaves these, in order to dwell on the
material evils of human life, as they are commonly
considered. This is not to deny the truth of those
sayings of the Fathers, St. Ambrose, for instance, in
which it is laid down that the two lists of the Beati-
tudes come of the same thing, or mutually contain
each other. For, as Toletus teaches us, the man who
of his own free will practises exterior poverty will easily
acquire the poverty of the spirit of the first Beatitude,
and will easily be meek and peaceful, for riches are the
great obstacle to meekness and peacefulness. Again,
I
The Blessings and tJie Woes. 97^
those who weep and are afflicted, in the sense here
spoken of, will easily be men of mercy to others, and
those who hunger and fast are well on their way to obtain
purity of heart as well as of body. The same \vriter
tells us that the three qualities here blessed by our Lord
seem to have been selected by Him as the contraries^
of the three great mischiefs of the world, of which St.
John speaks in his first epistle, the concupiscence of the
eyes, and the concupiscence of the flesh, and the pride of
life. For poverty cuts down the pride of life, hunger,
which is the fruit of indigence, cuts away the con-
cupiscence of the eyes, and weeping puts an end to the
concupiscence of the flesh.
It would seem to be our Lord's purpose in this
discourse, as far as it relates especially to His disciples,
to meet every difficulty which belonged to the condition
in which they now found themselves, and to show how it
was, in truth, a great blessing. It might seem as if the
catalogue of possible evils, to which their condition was
liable, had now been fully told out, for the great natural
and material evils may all be summed up in poverty,
hunger, and affliction. But it was not so, there was yet
another element of suffering, which was to fill a large
place in the life of the disciples, as in His own, and this
element, again, was to be shown to have its special and
great blessing. This element came from the persecutions
to which they and He, they for His sake and because
they belonged to Him, were now exposed from the Jews,
and which were to grow ever more fierce and unscrupu-
lous, both in His case and in theirs, ending in His own
death and in the utter proscription of the Apostles and
all who followed them. To a devout Jew this must have
been the severest part of the trial of those who followed
our Lord. It may easily be imagined that poverty, and
fasting, and humiliation, and affliction, may have been
H 36
gS The Blessings and the Woes,
easily borne, by men whose hearts were touched by
Divine love and the zeal for souls. In all ages of the
chosen people, there had been men who had volun-
tarily adopted for the love of God what would now be
called the ascetic or eremitical life. But the affections
of the Jewish people, in proportion as they were more
devout and religious in character, centred around the
Temple of God and its solemn services and sacrifices,
and such persons were taught from their infancy to
venerate the priests of the altar, and the pontiffs whose
lips kept knowledge. It was the severest of trials to
a good Jew to be threatened with expulsion from
the synagogue.
The excommunications of the Jewish Synagogue had a
temporal aspect as well as a spiritual aspect, and, even
as to the interests of this world, it was a great loss
for poor men to be deprived of all share in the
copious alms which were sent to Jerusalem, year after
year, by the Jews scattered all over the Empire which
was first that of the Greeks and then that of the
Romans. But the temporal loss could more easily be
borne than the disgrace of exclusion from the common-
wealth, as St. Paul calls it, of Israel, and to have their
names become by-words as the names of persons
hostile to the people and religion of the true God.
And yet this was just the crowning form of persecu-
tion which was awaiting the disciples, if it had not
already fallen upon them. * Blessed shall you be
when men shall hate you, and when they shall
separate you, and shall reproach you, and cast out your
name as evil for the Son of Man's sake.' The words
are very much an echo of those in the Sermon on the
Mount, though in this place the insertion of the word
*■ separate,' gives a more technical turn to the sentence,
which, in the former Sermon, did not directly allude
The Blessings and the Woes. 99
to the sentence of excommunication. The language
of our Lord here seems to represent a kind of perse-
cution which gradually reached its climax. First men
are to hate the Apostles and disciples for the sake of
the Son of Man, because they profess beUef in Him,
and teach His doctrine and follow His example of
strict observance of the moral law and of the utmost
purity and humility of life. Then they are to go on
to putting them out of the synagogues, as persons who
have apostatized from the religion of their fathers. This
is to be accompanied and followed by personal insults
and reproaches of all kinds heaped upon the disciples,
and lastly, behind their backs their very name is to be
cast out as an evil thing, as is the case with the names of
heretics, great criminals, the authors of false sects, and
the like. All this was to await the disciples for their
adherence to our Lord.
It might have been thought that He would at least
have comforted them, but He does much more. He
does not simply promise them a reward, as in the case of
the other blessings in this Sermon, the reward, for in-
stance, of being filled, and of laughing, in their turn,
after their hunger and their thirst. He tells them they
shall be blessed then, and He gives a still further instruc-
tion, before He adds why they are so blessed. * Be glad
in that day and rejoice, for behold, your reward is great
in Heaven.' They are to be glad and exult, internally,
and even to show their joy externally, for this seems to
be the meaning of exultation, for the suffering is small
indeed, in comparison to the reward, any reward of the
next life being indefinitely greater and beyond all pro-
portion to any pain of this life. Even here patience
goes far to being its own reward, but the reward of all
this slight patience is very great indeed, and it is already
ours, and it is in Heaven where nothing can be lost or
lOO The Blessings and the Woes.
pass away. It may be true, as has said by some com-
mentators, that our Lord here animates the disciples by
the hope of reward, and gives the existence of so great a
reward in Heaven as the reason for their joy and exulta-
tion. For such motives are not to be excluded, and
none has used them more frequently and constantly than
our Lord Himself, for the reason perhaps, a >iong others,
that He knew the wonderful riches of His Father's
magnificence and the beauties and glories of His Father's
house, better than any of the saints could know them.
And we find that this motive of the reward which God
has prepared for them who love Him, leads persons who
are affected by it, to the still higher motive of the pure love
of God. For these same Apostles, soon after the day
of Pentecost, were scourged in the Temple by the order
of the Chief Priests for preaching in the name of our
Lord, and then it is said of them that they went forth
from the 'presence of the Council, rejoicing that they
were accounted worthy to suffer reproach for the name
of Jesus,' 2 thus fulfilling to the letter this command of
our Lord, which bade them rejoice at the time of their
suffering, and at the same time showing that their joy
came rather from the dignity itself of suffering for the
sake of Jesus Christ, than from the hope of the great
reward in Heaven promised to them by God.
Our Lord gives the disciples the same reason in this
place for their joy under persecution, as in the Sermon
on the Mount. 'For according to these things did
their fathers unto the prophets.' Later on in His
ministry, He was to tell them that they were to be
treated by the world, and even by tlie chosen people of
God, as He Himself had been treated. The disciple
was not to be above his Master. If they called the
master of the house Beelzebub, how much more those
3 Acts V. 41.
The Blessings and the Woes. loi
of his household? But at the present stage of the
Gospel history the persecution against Himself had not
reached its utmost fury, at least externally. The instances
of the old Prophets, therefore, were more apposite to
the purpose of illustration for the present. The prophets
had been the undoubted emissaries of God, and, after
they had been ill treated by the generation to which their
warnings had been addressed, they had been held in
honour and veneration by the children of that very
generation. It is one of His reproaches of the Phari-
sees, as we shall see, that their fathers killed the
Prophets, and they built their sepulchres.-^ Thus the
example of the Prophets had a double consolation con-
tained in it. In the first place, it was a great consolation
to be on the side of God, as the Prophets had been, and
in the second place, it was a consolation to know that,
however their preaching might be treated by the genera-
tion to which it was directly and immediately addressed,
it would in the end be acknowledged as the message of
God.
It must be remembered, before we pass on, that this
definite blessing pronounced by our Lord on those who
are calumniated and reviled and spoken against is not
the only definite blessing contained in this context. We
have hitherto spoken simply of the blessing of poverty, of
hungering, of weeping now, but our Lord gives a special
blessing io\ each of these states, corresponding to the
state itself The poor have the Kingdom of Heaven.
This is to be understood, not only of the spiritual poverty
of which He said the same thing in the Sermon on the
Mount, but also of actual poverty, of which He is here
speaking, which has the Kingdom of Heaven for many
good reasons. In the first place, those who have nothing
are under the special care and protection of the King of
^ St. Matt, xxiii. 29.
I02 The Blessings and the Woes,
Heaven; they belong to those classes of His creatures
for whom He is more especially bound, so to say, to
provide, as their Creator, and who are in more immediate
dependence on Him than those who are provided for by
having abundant means belonging to themselves. In
every kingdom those have a greater share for whom the
King Himself thus provides. They belong to the
Kingdom of Heaven like the holy angels, who have
nothing of their own, nor desire anything, or like the
fowls of the air and the flowers of the field, for which
God cares. Again, the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to
the poor, on account of their detachment from all else,
their freedom from anxiety and solicitude for temporal
matters, which leaves their hearts free to rise up to the
throne of God and to feed their desires upon the true
goods which are eternal. Again, as actual poverty
makes spiritual poverty easy, it opens to those who
practise it the treasury of the spiritual Kingdom, the
gifts and graces with which God is ever ready to adorn
the souls which do not, as it were, paralyze the hand of
His bounty by their grovelling attachments, and the
many sins or imperfections which the cares of this world
beget. Again, as by the Kingdom of Heaven is some-
times meant the Gospel message, and the calls which it
makes on obedience and loyalty, these can address
themselves without hindrance to the souls which are not
overclouded by the mists raised by the possession of the
good things of this world. Faith is the atmosphere in
which the poor live, and in this way such souls become
capable of great spiritual fruitfulness, of great purity of
intention, of singleness of purpose, of courage and
constancy in the work which they undertake for God.
It is more easy for them than for others to recognize the
hand of God in the daily incidents of Hfe, and to make
their own ventures in His service with the most perfect
The Blessings and the Woes, 103
and joyous simplicity. Thus the whole world is to them
the Kingdom of God, and His interests are easily made
paramount over all others.
Another, and perhaps the greatest reason, for the
possession of the Kingdom of Heaven by the poor, is
that which in another place is expressed in the words of
our Lord, ' Fear not, little flock, for it hath pleased your
Father to give you the Kingdom.'^ The passage in
which these words occur belongs to a later time of the
preaching of our Lord, and He is there speaking to His
disciples in the presence of a very large multitude. So
far the conditions of time and circumstances are like
those of the present Sermon, and it is remarkable that on
that occasion our Lord introduced many portions of
teaching from the Sermon on the Mount which are
omitted in this Sermon on the Plain. He puts the
confidence and fearlessness about temporal matters
which He requires of His followers on the good
pleasure or choice of the Father, just as in other places
He is reported as giving thanks to His Father because
He has chosen little ones and uninstructed ones for the
reception of the truths of His Gospel. 'I confess to
Thee, Father, Lord of Heaven and earth, because Thou
hast hid these things from the wise and prudent and hast
revealed them to little ones. Yea, Father, for so it hath
seemed good in Thy sight.' ^ And there is an echo of
this teaching of our Lord with regard to the poor in the
Epistle of St. James, the book of all others in the New
Testament which is most like the utterances of our Lord
in the Gospel. St. James says, 'Hearken, my dearest
brethren, hath not God chosen the poor of this world,
rich in faith, and heirs of the Kingdom which God hath
promised to them that love Him?'^ Our Lord constantly
^ St. Luke xii. 32, ^ St. Matt. xi. 25, 26.
7 St. James iii. 5.
I04 The Blessings and the Woes,
tells us that God is free in His choices and in the distri-
bution of His gifts, and with this royal freedom He has
chosen to give His Kingdom to the poor, as He chose
men rather than angels in the Incarnation, Jacob rather
than Esau, David rather than his elder brethren, and the
like.
The blessing of the hungry, which is the next in this
catalogue of Beatitudes, is that those who are thus
afflicted, or who afflict themselves thus, shall be filled.
The blessing of those who weep now is that they
shall laugh. This doctrine implies that hunger, sorrow,
the afflictions of this world in body and in estate, are
blessings in the intention of God, and, to those who
bear them and use them as He intends them to be borne
and used, they give opportunities of virtue, and exclude
many occasions of sin and worldliness into which those
who are unused to them fall very easily. They must be
borne with in the spirit of faith and resignation, or they
must be voluntarily courted and embraced out of the
love of God, in order that they may be thus prolific of
good, but they have these blessings attached to them,
which are not attached to the contrary states and
conditions. The blessings which are allotted to them
are just those spiritual goods which correspond to the
temporal goods, which are foregone by those in whom
these qualities are found. Thus it is natural that the
blessing on hunger should be fulness, and that the
blessing on weeping should be joy and laughter. These
foolish, childish, and even animal indulgences, which are
foregone by those who hunger, fast, mourn, weep, who
choose the life of penance and severity which is here
commended, are the false shadows of the goods in the
eternal kingdom which are rightly described by the
names of fulness and laughter. The fulness which will
be the reward in the heavenly Kingdom cannot be the
The Blessings and the Woes. 105
mere satiety of the natural appetite for food which we
have in common with the lower animals, but it will be
the perfect and unending satisfaction of the noble appe-
tites of the new creature, glorified both in soul and body
in the presence of God, which our Lord constantly
describes, in His parables and other teaching, under the
figure of a banquet, not simply because such an image
may convey the highest idea of enjoyment to ordinary
minds, but because there is something, in the super-
natural life of the Blessed, which answers in a higher
order to the figure itself which is used. And, with
regard to the second part of the promise, that which
relates to the joy which shall be the reward of a life of
weeping and affliction, even on earth it is certain that
there is no mirth or happiness like that of the true
penitent, of those who deal most hardly with themselves
and welcome all sorts of affliction as their lot here in
union with the Cross of our Lord. The soul which is at
peace with God, and which feeds itself on the hope of
seeing His face in Heaven, has that perpetual sunshine
upon it which puts into the shade all the brightness and
delight of even the most innocent natural happiness, and,
much more, the dehghts of the sensual, the vicious, and
the worldly, which are excitements rather than pleasures.
Joyousness is the characteristic of the true Christian
life and the true Christian society, and if there is so
much, even here and now, of this intense happiness, it is
easy to see that it will be multiplied and deepened a
thousandfold in the eternal possession of God, in the
companionship of the Saints and Angels. And the
language of our Lord may also be understood as being
just what it is, on account of His desire that we should
remember that there is an exact reward and retribution,
in the Kingdom of His Father, for every kind of suffer-
ing endured for His sake, as well as for every kind
io6 The Blessings and the Woes,
of false and wicked enjoyment of which His enemies are
guilty.
These four blessings, which had been addressed by
our Lord to His disciples in the presence of the crowd,
making them, as it were, serve Him for a text from which
to preach the truth concerning the things which, in the
estimation of the world were ordinarily held to be the
chief of external evils, were followed by four contrary
declarations as to the opposites of these supposed evils,
as to which also He proclaims the Gospel truth. He
preserves the form of direct address, although it may not
be considered certain that among the crowd to whom
He was speaking there were many who were rich and
the hke. But the principle of the estimation of riches,
of pleasures, of good cheer and abundance of enjoyment,
and of the desirableness of human applause and popu-
larity, lay deeply ingrained in the minds and hearts of
numbers in that as in any other multitude. ' But woe
to you that are rich, for you have received your conso-
lation. Woe unto you that are filled, for you shall
hunger. Woe to you that now laugh, for you shall
mourn and weep. Woe to you when men shall bless
you, for according to these things did their fathers to
the false prophets.'
The word woe may signify an imprecation or a simple
denunciation. It may be the language of one who desires
and prays that evil may befall those of whom he speaks,
or it may be the language of one who only foresees
their case and deplores it, or at least warns them of it.
It is in accordance with the general character of this
discourse of our Lord to consider the word here as a
simple prediction, or even as expressing sympathy and
compassion. The best commentary on this first woe
may be found in our Lord's own parable or apologue or
history — for it is not certain that He is not relating
I
The Blessings and the Woes. 107
an actual history — which we know as the Parable of the
Rich Glutton. For in that parable the words which
are put into the mouth of Abraham, in his answer to
the request of the rich man for relief, are very like the
reason given by our Lord for the woe of which He
speaks in this place. 'Son, remember that thou didst
receive good things in thy lifetime, and likewise Lazarus
evil things, but now he is comforted and thou art
tormented.' ^
It is not the doctrine of Sacred Scripture that the rich
will be tormented, simply for having been rich, if they
have used their riches in the right way, as the rich
glutton had not used his. But it is the doctrine of
Scripture, that riches are most dangerous to those who
possess them, just for the reason that they nurture pride
and blindness of heart, because they are, as our Lord
calls them, so deceitful and deluding, and make their
possessors consider them as their own, to be used for
their own enjoyment and profit. 'For they that will
become rich,' says the Apostle, 'fall into temptation,
and into the snare of the devil, and into many un-
profitable and hurtful desires, which drown men into
destruction and perdition, for the desire of money is the
root of all evil.'^ Even the simple enjoyment of riches
— like that of the rich glutton, of whom we are told no
positively bad thing, but only that he neglected to do
the charity for which God gave him the occasion — has
a tendency to make people take an altogether false view
of the world in which their lot is cast, only for the time
of their probation. Such people forget the need of
penance and of prayer, of laying up the treasure in
Heaven, and of aiming at the things which are eternal.
It is not denied by our Lord that the enjoyment of
riches involves a kind of happiness, as men reckon it,
8 St. Luke xvi. 25. ^ i Tim. vi. 9.
io8 The Blessings and the Woes.
for it makes them masters of a great many pleasures and
indulgences, and delivers them from the anxiety for food
and raiment, which presses hardly on others, especially
if they have not the light of faith and the habit of
reliance of God. This may be the consolation of which
He speaks. It is what they have desired and it is given
them. It may also be remembered that all men do
some good things in their life, for which God, in His
infinite justice, does not leave them unrewarded. As
they are not meritorious of an eternal reward, He gives
them a temporal. There are many instances of this in
Sacred Scripture, as in the Egyptian midwives, who
spared the children of the IsraeHtes, contrary to the
command of Pharaoh. And this is often the true inter-
pretation of the apparent prosperity of those who are
not on the side of God or the Church, but have a certain
amount of natural virtue which leads them to be
honest, or generous, or clement, or liberal in giving, or
temperate, or truthful, and so with other excellent
qualities which may yet be in the natural order only.
Such actions and characters have their consolation in
temporal prosperity, or good fame, or power, or success
in their enterprises, in long life and numbers of children,
and security in their possessions. But all these things
come to an end with this life, and, in the next world, it
may be found of such persons that they have had their
consolation and that no more awaits them at the hand of
God.
' Woe to you that are filled, for you shall hunger, woe
to you that now laugh, for you shall mourn and weep.'
Our Lord is still speaking of the literal fulness and
laughter, which answer as their opposites to the hunger
and weeping of the disciples. And the reason for the
woe is the same as in the case of the rich, or rather, it is
something more positive. For in the case of the rich
The Blessings and the Woes. 109
it is only implied, though not said, that having had
their prosperity and consolation in this life, they will
find themselves, in the next world, in a miserable state
of penury and destitution, from which there is no escape
and no relief. But in the case of the full and those
who laugh, the actual contrary to their state in this
world is given as the reason for the woe. It is the
belief of theologians that the punishments of the next
world will be most accurately proportioned and arranged,
according to the false enjoyments and indulgences which
have been the portion of those who are punished, and
that when our Lord, in the parable already referred to,
speaks of the glutton as suffering especially from thirst.
He signifies that in that very way in which he had
offended God, in that he was punished. According to
this doctrine, each class of sin, and every individual
sin of each class, has its own particular torment,
corresponding to it. And it is in accordance with this
truth that the punishment of the full should be eternal
and unsatisfied hunger, and the punishment of the foolish
and wicked laughter, of which we must suppose our
Lord to speak, should be unending grief of heart and
external weeping.
In all these woes it is to be remembered that our
Lord is speaking of the external contraries to those
things in the disciples which He had been pronouncing
blessed. He speaks, therefore, of the general tendency
and result of the possession of riches, of the habit of
ample enjoyment in food and drink, and of the light-
hearted silly life of those who pass through the world
laughing and making merry. He does not absolutely
condemn either the possession of wealth, or the enjoy-
ments of the table which do not exceed temperance,
or any happy, innocent, simple laughter, though He is
never said to have laughed Himself. For to condemn
no The Blessings and the Woes.
these things absolutely would be to condemn every act
of them, whereas what is so dangerous in them is the
habit of giving the heart to the poor and empty goods
of this life, and forgetting, in the enjoyment of merely
natural delights, the great truths of our condition and our
duties here. All through the comparison there runs this
thought, which is only expressed once or twice by the
use of the word 'Now.' It is in the resting in temporal
things, as our true end, and as the true goods, that the
danger lies, and the deception, which our Lord is anxious
to dissipate, consists. The disciples, in their mortified
and humble life, in the austerities which they practised,
in their poverty and hunger, were apostles of the truth
as to all these things, as well as teachers of the par-
ticular doctrines in which the Gospel message more
immediately consisted. It was their fearless preaching,
by word and example, of the truth as to this point, that
made them unpopular and brought on them persecution,
as much as their being the Apostles of Jesus Christ as
the Son of God and the promised Redeemer of the
world.
This must be held in mind when we consider, in the
last place, the conclusion of this series of woes, which
corresponds so exactly to the blessings with which this
Sermon on the Plain opens. 'Woe to you when men
shall bless you, and speak well of you,' for that seems
to be the meaning of this woe, which answers in one
single word to the various elements of opposition which
are expressed in the corresponding blessing, 'When
men shall hate you, and separate you, and reproach you,
and cast out your name as evil for the Son of Man's
sake.' Woe to you, when men shall in this sense bless
you, ' For according to these things did their fathers to
the false prophets.' The preaching of the truth and
the preaching of the doctrine of mortification and of
The Blessings and the Woes, 1 1 1
the emptiness of worldly goods must ever be unpopular,
and it will always be a test of the true preaching and the
true doctrine that they will be hated and reviled. Thus
St. Paul says : ' If I yet pleased men, I should not be
the servant of Christ.' ^^ The applause of the world will
always be given to that which is on the side of the world,
and never more so than when the preachers, who ought
to set forth the truth, are content to buy praise and
popularity for themselves, at the expense of a com-
promise of the truth and the severity of the Christian
doctrine. The false pr'-phets, of whom our Lord speaks,
have left little mark behind them in the history of the
chosen people. Here and there we come on traces of
them, as in the history of Elias, and Achab, and
Jeremias, but for the most part their names have sunk
into oblivion, as was only likely to be the case. But
each age has its false prophets, whether as to matters
of pure doctrine, as in the case of the teachers of heresy,
or as to matters of conduct, as is always the case not
only with heretics — who may asume a mask of strictness
for a time, but whose doctrine is sure in the end to
lead to laxity, either by actual relaxation of the Divine
law, or by forcing men to despair and recklessness by
representing God falsely — but with those among orthodox
preachers of whom the world will speak well, because
their preaching tickles its ears with fine language and a
display of learning, without touching the heart or probing
the wounds of the conscience.
10 Galat. i. lo.
CHAPTER VII.
The Precept of Charity.
St. Luke vi. 27—38 ; Vita VitcB NostrcE, § 48.
The passage of the Sermon on the Plain on which we
have been hitherto commenting was addressed by our
Lord, in the first instance, to His own disciples, though He
spoke in the presence of the multitude collected from all
parts, not only of the Holy Land, but even of the neigh-
bouring Pagan regions of Tyre and Sidon. That is. He
spoke to the disciples in such a way as to make His
address to them convey instruction to the others. Here
again we have His example in a method of teaching
which is constantly in use in the Church. For it is often
the duty of His ministers to catechize children publicly,
in which case the instruction given is frequently quite as
valuable to those who listen, the parents and others, as
to the children themselves. And again, in cases such as
that of the clothing or professing of religious persons, in
the presence of an audience of friends or others, it is
constantly the aim of the preacher so to speak directly to
those religious persons, as to instruct and move indirectly
those who are witnesses to the ceremony, but who take
no part in in it.
It appears, then, that after uttering the blessings and
woes of which we have just now spoken, our Lord turned
more directly to the multitude, and addressed Himself
to them. He does not altogether change the subject of
His instruction, for He has been speaking of the misery
\
The Precept of Charity, 113
of being highly praised and well thought of, as the false
prophets were held in false honour by their contem-
poraries, and this declaration of the wretchedness of
human popularity in their case was a sequel in His dis-
course to the words in which He had spoken of the
blessedness of the state of the disciples under persecution
of every kind. Thus the subject of the treatment which
men receive from those who are in any sense their
enemies is already before the minds of the audience in
this place. Our Lord passes on from this to the kindred
subject of the manner in which the scholars in His Divine
school are to deal with those who illtreat them. This
furnishes a natural link of thought between this part of
the Sermon and that which has preceded it. It is as if
He had said to the multitude, 'You have heard me
enjoin on My own servants and friends that they are
to consider themselves blessed when they are illtreated
for the sake of Me, because in this their lot in the world
is hke that of the ancient prophets who were so dear
to God. It may not be given to every one to have in
this respect the crown of the prophets, but every one
may nevertheless make immense profit to his own soul
out of illtreatment of any kind, even that which is not
inflicted on him for the sake of faith, virtue, or religion.
In this sense the precept or the counsel which I have
given to these My friends may be extended to all of you,
if you will only deal with your enemies and others who
illtreat you in the manner which I now say. I say,
therefore, to you also, all of you who hear, " Love your
enemies," and the rest.'
We have already spoken of several omissions which are
now made by our Lord, in the series of subjects which
He selects for this discourse, if it be compared with
the Sermon on the Mount, of which it may be considered
an adaptation, made with reference to the spiritual and
I 36
114 T^^^ Precept of Charity,
moral condition of the audience to which He now had to
address His teaching. Not only does He now leave unsaid
all that the Sermon on the Mount contains as to the work
of His disciples as the light of the world and the salt of
the earth, but He passes over also all that He then said
about the necessity of the justice higher and deeper than
that of the Scribes and Pharisees, and almost all the
corrections of the common glosses on the Divine law
which had become current among the Jews of His time.
He says nothing about the sinfulness of anger, or the
lustful look, of the necessity of cutting off the occasions
of sin, nothing of His explanation of the law of marriage
and divorce, nothing of His teaching about swearing.
At last He takes up the former teaching at the point
where it had touched on the sinfulness of retaliation, and
on the false gloss which added, to the Divine precept of
the love of neighbours, the entirely human complement
of the hatred of enemies. He does not introduce this
subject, as in the former Sermon, with a reference to the
interpretations of the law which He is there correcting,
but He brings it in absolutely as a precept of His own.
Nor is there any point of perfection as to this matter laid
down in the Sermon on the Mount, which is not insisted
on in this Sermon on the Plain.
It cannot certainly be supposed that our Lord did not
think the precepts which were thus passed over to be of
the highest importance for those to whom He was now
speaking. They represented, as has often been said, the
mass of men, rather than the crowd of disciples already
more or less familiar with His teaching. They represented
persons who have been living with but little more than
the natural law and the rule of conscience to guide them,
and who are approaching the Church with the desire to
become her children. In such persons there is often a
great ignorance, which has to be corrected, as to what are
The Precept of Charity, 115
called the secondary conclusions from the law of nature
and they have often far lower notions about the law of
purity, or the law which forbids the excess of anger,
and the like, than are required by our Lord in His
kingdom. And yet our Lord seems to tell us, by the
arrangement of this Sermon on the Plain, that they are
capable of being urged to the high precepts of charity
which now follow, and that it is well to present to them,
even in the first instance, this part of the Christian
code. It is in the same spirit, perhaps, that Daniel
recommends to Nabuchodonosor^ to redeem his sins with
alms deeds. We find that the individual heathens who
are mentioned in the New Testament as the subjects ot
signal favours from our Lord, such as the Centurion at
Capharnaum, or Cornelius the first gentile convert, in
the Acts, have been already Jed to honour God by alms-
deeds. The precept of our Lord in this place goes,
indeed, far beyond that of almsgiving, but it is still in
the same line and subject matter, and both have the
advantage that they can be addressed to, and understood
by, persons who are on their way to the faith and to the
Church, as well as those who are already citizens of the
Christian Kingdom. It seems as if this precept of
charity were here urged by our Lord as that which even
persons at a distance from the perfect religion, which He
came to introduce, might take hold of, and thus render
themselves capable of higher teaching, more peculiar to
that perfect religion. If this is the case, then we may
consider this selection of His as furnishing us with hints
as to our dealing with those who are outside the Church,
whether they belong to some imperfect form of
Christianity or not. Before even the necessary instruction
as to matters of faith or of internal purity and the like,
this exhortation to charity, to the forgiveness of injuries,
1 Daniel iv. 24.
1 1 6 The Pi^ecept of Charity.
the love of enemies, and the like, may be set before
them, and their practice of these precepts will secure for
them wonderful blessings, which may lead them to the
full faith and bring about their submission to the Church.
For the precept of charity is laid upon man as man,
although it has been made a new precept by the example
and injunction of our Lord, grounded on His own
practice and on the new tie by w^hich men are bound
one to another through Him. And it is the accustomed
order of God's Providence to lead on those who are
faithful to more general and natural precepts into the
fuller light and grace of the Gospel Kingdom.
To say this is to say that the foundation, on which all
these precepts of charity rest, is a truth which is not
far removed from the reach of any thoughtful man who
believes in God, and who is ready to worship Him and
obey Him according to the dictates of the natural law.
And indeed, when we examine what is the foundation of
the charity which our Lord here recommends in so many
various phases and developments, we find it to be nothing
else than the truth that w^e are bound to love our neigh-
bours for the sake of God. This implies that God is the
common Father of all, that He has created us and
placed us in society, with duties not only to Himself but
also to one another for His sake, and that our duties to
Him cannot be discharged except we love others for His
sake. Here is certainly a bond of union and an obliga
tion of affection which rise far higher than the common
motives of self-interest, which make us love those who
are useful to us, often in w^ays contrary to our own true
interests and to the laws of God, far higher, again, than
the motive of love which consists in a common origin or
family or nationality, or anything else of that kind. And
where this Divine principle of charity exists, it is powerful
enough, in all reason, to support the weight of the great
The Precept of Charity, 117
obligations which it involves. The love which is founded
on the love and duty which we owe to God, is the truest
love, because it cannot wish to those whom we love any
but the true goods, such as are consistent with the motive
of devotion and love to God. Such a love is unchange-
able and firm, because it does not depend on the conduct
or the characters or the demeanour of men, who may
vary in their behaviour to us, and become in themselves,
at one time more deserving of love, at another time less
so. Such a love is wide in the objects which it embraces,
because it enfolds all who are one with us in any way in
God, and through God, all mankind, and even the holy
angels. Such a love is strong, for it rests on a motive
which is capable of urging men to the greatest of
sacrifices and to the overcoming of the most formidable
obstacles. It is sincere, because the ground on which it
rests is the truth itself, and it is perfect, because it makes
us most like to God, Who is love. And yet, if it be true,
as it appears to be, that our Lord appeals to this love as
possible, even in those who are far from the full light of
His kingdom, it must follow that He considered it not
impossible for such persons to have so much knowledge
of God and of His character as is required for the forma-
tion of this active principle of charity in their hearts.
If we may consider that our Lord has here selected
these precepts of charit}^ because He sees that they are
not beyond the reach of men who are not far advanced
in interior virtue, though they have a true faith as to
God, and as to His providential arrangement of human
society, we may pause for a moment to remark on the
goodness, mercifulness, and tenderness in the method of
God's government of the world which are thus disclosed to
us. For it is a proof of God's infinite goodness that
He should have founded even the natural society of
men, in which they were to find so much of thei
1 1 8 The Precept of Charity.
happiness or misery in this life, on a principle which
ought to be powerful enough to secure such conduct
in all or each, as might make human life intensely happy,
in the highest degree of which it is capable here. This
consideration of God's goodness is enhanced by that
other to which it naturally leads, that in the law by
which God has enacted that we are to obtain absolute
forgiveness for our offences against Him, on condition
of pardoning one another, He has put in our hands
a means of reconciling ourselves to Him and of bringing
down on ourselves untold blessings, which is at the same
time not too hard for the strength of our poor nature. It
is not as if there were no way of reconciliation with Him
which did not imply great mortifications and painful
penances. Charity is more happy as a state of mind and
heart than hostility and hatred, it brings with it peace
and joy to our own hearts, it enlarges the range of our
sympathies and turns enemies into friends. No doubt
it costs much to human nature, in its depraved and
degraded state, for it is a victory over self-love. But it
is a victory which brings with it a present reward as well
as a future crown.
It seems also that there is something analogous in this
beautiful arrangement of God to that other device of His
love, if we may so speak, by which He has made faith
so meritorious. Faith, like charity, was a precept on
man as man. It did not come into the world with the
covenant made with Abraham, nor with the Law given
on Sinai, nor with the Gospel revelation. It was from
the beginning, as our Lord said of the institution of
marriage. It is as old as prayer, as worship, or as
sacrifice. Faith is an intellectual act commanded by
the will ; and it ought to cost us very little to believe
the Word of God. It is a reasonable, indeed the only
reasonable, use of the intellect in regard of such truths
The Precept of Charity, 119
as those which are proposed to us on authority. And
yet it is made the condition of grace and forgiveness^
fuller of merit than a thousand acts of religious
observance of which it is not the ground. To a
thoughtful mind there are a thousand inducements to
faith, and very few difficulties. The difficulties come,
in the main, from our own narrowness of perception of
the greatness and goodness of God. It is happier to
believe than not to believe. And so it is with charity.
To persons who are prepared for grace by their own
consciousness of sin, by the feeling of their need of
forgiveness, of the injuries to the majesty of God of
which they are guilty, and of the terrible expiation
which they owe to His justice, nothing can seem more ful!
of condescension and compassionateness than the inti-
mation that their own great debts may be cancelled in a
moment, by their treatment of others in the same way
as that in which they would desire to be themselves
treated by God. The instinct of clemency, the feehng
of a common nature binding men together under the rule
of a common Father of all, the nobility of mercifulness,,
its usefulness, the unbecomingness of exacting the last
farthing, even when we can exact it, the folly of per-
petuating evil feelings and rivalries, and animosities which
may last on, and meet us again in the form of vengeance,,
when the wheel of fortune has gone round, and we find
ourselves in tiirn in need of mercy and forgiveness — all*
these things are natural helps to the temper of mercy audi
charity. These considerations make it less surprising
that our Lord should have chosen in this place to set
forth these lofty precepts, even when the audience to
whom they were proposed was not in so high a stage of
spirituality as that to which He had addressed them in
the former great Sermon.
It is not necessary that anything more should be
I20 The Precept of Charity,
said in general with regard to the position of this
commandment of charity in this discourse of our
Lord. We may now proceed to the particular in-
junctions which our Lord lays down, meeting, as it
seems, the struggling instinct of self-love on all points
on which it asserts itself, and pursuing it into all the
strongholds in which it endeavours to entrench itself.
Our Lord's words are as follows : * But I say to you
that hear, love your enemies, do good to them that
hate you, bless them that curse you, and pray for them
that calumniate you. And to him that striketh thee
on the one cheek offer also the other, and him that
taketh away from thee thy cloak forbid not to take
thy coat also. Give to every one that asketh of thee,
and of him that taketh away thy goods ask them not
again. And as you would that men should do to you do
you also to them in like manner.'
Thus in a few words does our Blessed Lord sum up most
concisely but most fully the great precept of the love
which we owe to our neighbour. His injunctions follow
one another, each one adding a new line to the com-
mandment, each one removing some of the hindrances to
its perfect observance, or declaring some new point of
its positive requirements. In the first place, our neigh-
bour is to be loved. That this may be rightly under-
stood, the first step must be to answer that question
which was afterwards put to our Lord by the Scribe,
*Who is my neighbour?' and the false gloss must be
removed, of which He makes distinct mention in the
Sermon on the Mount, namely, that enemies are not
neighbours, and that as we are to love our neighbours,
so also are we to hate our enemies. But according to
the law of God and of nature, the ground on which the
obligation of loving others rests is equal in the case both
of friends and enemies in the common sense of the
k
The Precept of Charity, 121
names. For that ground is our common relation to God
as the Father of all alike. Our enemies, therefore, in the
ordinary sense of the term, are to be loved, not for their
enmity, but because we have more in common with
them than not, and a greater tie to bind us to them than
reason for aversion from them. Then the question
arises, in the poor narrowness of our minds, what are the
circumstances which are to suffice for the cancelling of
the bond between us and those whom we call our
enemies ? If they hate us, if they revile us, if they speak
against us, either in detraction, or in abuse and contu-
melious language, if they calumniate us, if they strike us,
if they injure us, if they take away our property, if they
hurt us in honour, in reputation, even in what concerns
our life itself — are these to be grounds sufficient for the
withdrawal in their case of that love which we owe to
them for the sake of God ? The answer is that in all these
cases the law of charity is to override the motives which
seem to oppose its observance. We are not only to love
them, but we are to do more — we are to benefit them to
the extent of our power, we are to speak well of them,
to pray for them, we are to desire and procure their
spiritual good, and, for the sake of that we are to suffer
injury, we are to submit to the loss of temporal goods,
we are to give them what they ask of us, and in a word
we are to do to them all things which we should wish
them to do to us. This is the declaration which our
Lord makes concerning the application of this Divine
precept of charity. Let us now consider the separate
clauses of the passage.
The first part of this passage lays down four precepts.
We are to love our enemies, we are to do good to those
who hate us, we are to bless them that curse us, and
we are to pray for them that calumniate us. The evils
with which we are thus to deal increase, as they follow
122 The Precept of Charity,
one on the other, in the degree of malice which they
imply. Enmity is a bad thing, hatred is a worse thing,
cursing and calumny are still worse. We are to meet
them by corresponding degrees of goodness on our own
part — love, beneficence, blessing, and prayer. The
precept of love is universal, and nothing exempts us from
it. This is the one great principle on which God's
institution of society is built, and our forgetfulness of
which makes us think all these precepts of our Lord so
many romantic exaggerations, instead of truths founded on
strictest reason and duty. It is necessary that our love
should be positive, and not stop short at the absence of evil
wishing. The desire for the good of our enemies and of
those who hate us is sufficient if we bear them a general
goodwill, but there may be particular circumstances and
occasions under which this general goodwill must become
particular and specific. It is the same with the external
signs and marks of friendship ; we are not to refuse to
any the common signs of love which are expected, in
ordinary intercourse, between members of the same
society and community ; but we are not obliged by any
precept to give to all indiscriminately the special marks
of affection which pass between near friends and rela-
tives. And, with regard to the goodwill which we are
bound to have to all, it is not contrary to this to wish
to some people temporal evils, that they may be brought
to repentance thereby, or that some evil designs of theirs
may be thereby defeated, nor is it necessary to have
the same measure of goodwill to all, as if all were equal
in this respect; for the order of charity must be observed.
So also with active beneficence; it is not contrary to
this to inflict temporal evil, for the sake of doing good
to those to whom we do it, as when a child is punished
by a parent, or a malefactor by a judge. The word
that is rendered ' bless,' in regard of those who
The Precept of Charity, 123
curse us, and the corresponding word 'curse,' are
to be taken as signifying all kinds of good speaking
and all kinds of evil speaking. Thus men may say all
manner of evil against us, as well a^ curse us formally,
and we are in return to speak well of them, to praise
them, to honour them in our words, as well as to bless
them in the formal sense of the term. There is also
a special significance in the precept by which we are
enjoined to pray for those who calumniate us. For
this is the greatest evil of the kind that can be done
to us, and prayer is needed in this case even more than
in the others, because it is sometimes only by prayer
that the innocence of the calumniated can be made
manifest, as was the case with the chaste Susanna, and
again, it is often the case that God grants to the prayers
of the injured the conversion of their calumniators.
It is also very often found that the only means by which
we can keep down our own indignation and anger, under
such circumstances, is by having recourse to the practice
which is here enjoined, which then becomes a duty to
ourselves. And indeed, in all these precepts, the effect
on our own souls is a part of the object of the legislation.
In the case of calumnies uttered against us, the precept
of which we are speaking is all the more needed to secure
our own peace and charity, because it is not forbidden
us, it may even sometimes become our duty to defend
ourselves against the false charge — though we are not
allowed to seek for vindication for the sake of the
punishment of the guilty accusers. This may suffice
for the commentary on the first part of this passage.
The next two precepts in this great passage relate
to the virtue of patience, which is so necessary for all
those who would practise the charity which has already
been enjoined. For this virtue makes large demands
upon our human infirmities, and it is only by patience
124 The Precept of Charity, *
that its observance can be secured. ' And to him that
striketh thee on the one cheek, offer also the other,
and him that taketh from thee thy cloak, forbid not
to take thy coat also.' Nothing but the most con-
summate patience can enable us to act up to this prin-
ciple, and where there is patience in this perfection
in the interior man, there there will be no difficulty in
the external action which is here enjoined, while, on
the other hand, any one who has this perfect interior
patience will be able to decide for himself, according
to the rules of holy prudence, whether the outward
act is to accompany and manifest the inward disposition
or not. For it will not be always the best thing to turn
the other cheek actually, as we see by the example of
our Lord, of which we shall speak presently. For to
do so, might in some cases even add to the sin of the
person striking us, instead of bringing about his con-
version, or in any way glorifying God. The same remark
holds good as to the next precept, that of suffering
injuries patiently, when they extend beyond our own
person to our external goods. Here we are enjoined,
in the first instance, the internal virtue of patience and
indifference to the loss of external goods of any kind,
when the putting up with that loss, however unjust,
is expedient in view of the good of our neighbour, or
the preservation of our own peace and charity. For
the process of recovering what has been taken away
from us unjustly, is often connected, almost of necessity,
with the loss of charity, and with disturbance to our-
selves which is injurious to perfection. But we are
preserved against all dangers of this kind by the
principle here urged by our Lord. And, on the other
hand, we are not forbidden to recover, either by law
or by our own exertions, what we have been deprived
of, in cases when there is no danger at all to higher
goods.
The Precept of Charity, 125
The next words of the passage seem to pass beyond
the precept of patience, and to add a new virtue, that
of mercy, to those of charity and patience which have
been already enjoined. ' Give to every one that asketh
thee, and of him that taketh away thy goods, ask them
not again.' Here again it is the principle and the
disposition of mind that our Lord insists upon. For
there must be many cases in which to act literally
in this way would be impossible, or at least im-
prudent, like that of the other case of offering the
other cheek to the smiter. We are not always able
to find what to give to every one who asks, and, as we
shall see presently, if would often be against the true
meaning of the precept so to do. But no one is to be
shut out from the range of our beneficence, when there
is reason for its exercise, and in this sense we are to
give to every one, because we are to refuse no one,
in whom the simple tide of need exists to move our
mercifulness, as would be the case, for instance, if we
were to decline to aid some one who had offended us
or injured us, or in whom we saw any other qualities
which we dislike.
Our Lord continues : ' And of him that taketh away
thy goods, ask them not again.' This is another shape
of the same virtue of beneficence, in cases in which we
have suffered wrong and injury, not to seek to reclaim
what has been taken from us, most of all in cases in
which the reclamation of our property would be likely
to injure charity, or when the person who has done the
material wrong has a real need of what has been taken
from us. We find something very like this among the
precepts of charity and brotherly kindliness in the Book
of Deuteronomy, where the Israelites are told, "when
thou shalt demand of thy neighbour anything that he
oweth thee, thou shalt not go into his house to take
126 The Precept of Charity.
away a pledge, but thou shall stand without, and he shall
bring out to thee what he hath ; but if he be poor, the
pledge shall not lodge with thee that night, but thou
shalt restore it to him before the going down of the
sun, that he may sleep in his own raiment, and bless
thee, and thou mayest have justice before the Lord thy
God.' 2 It is clear that this, like the other portions of
this passage, contains what is in some cases a precept,
in other cases a counsel, according to the circumstances
of the persons with whom we have to do, and our own
relations to them. There is throughout a silent reference
to the various excuses of self-love and narrowness of
heart as to the practice of charity, on each one of which
excuses our Lord seems, as it were, to set His foot.
It is remarkable that St. Basil says in one of his works,
that this passage is one in which our Lord has put forth
certain great maxims of perfection in a tentative way,
as if to prove how far the patience and charity of His
servants could go, rather than as laying down strict
precepts in all these matters. The doctrine of St. Basil
cannot perhaps be entirely followed in our interpretation
of the passage, but its existence in the works of so
great a master of spirituality is a proof that he felt the
difficulty of the literal acceptance of all these injunctions
as matters of precept. But it becomes more easily
intelhgible if we suppose that our Lord is contradicting,
one after another, the subterfuges of self-love in the
matter of the exercise of charity. The chief difficulty,
which will always make such passages as this sound hard
even to most Christians, lies in the deeply rooted mis-
conceptions which prevail as to the extent to which
mutual charity is enjoined by the natural law given to
us by God when He founded human society as such.
These misconceptions are the progeny of human selfish-
2 Deut. xxiv. 10 — 13.
I
The Precept of Charity. 127
ness, and they have been multiplying in the world
since Cain killed Abel. It is as if our Lord had
said : ' Do I tell you to love your friends and hate your
enemies? No, — I tell you to love your enemies. Do
I tell you to treat evilly those who hate you? No, —
I tell you to do good to them. Do I tell you to give
back cursing to those who curse you, to speak evil of
those who speak evil of you, to spread false charges
against those who calumniate you? No, — I bid you
bless those who curse you, and pray for those who
calumniate you. Are you to give back blow for blow ?
No, — you are to offer the other cheek to him that smites
you, and if a man has taken away your cloak, that is so
far from being a reason why you should shut up your
heart against him, that I bid you let him take your coat
also if he needs it. You ask Me to whom you are to
give and to whom you are not to give ? Well, I say you
are to give to every one who asks of you, the simple
fact that he asks is in itself a presumption that he is
in need, and even if such a person has already taken
away your goods, do not demand them back. And I
sum up the whole doctrine on which you are to act in a
few words of the most general import : " As you would
that men should do to you, do you also to them in like
manner.'"
There is a directness and a fervour and a thorough-
ness, so to speak, about this short declaration of the
doctrine of charity, which seem to remind us of the
joyous self-abandonment of saints like St. Francis, in
their utter contradiction of all worldly maxims and
customs, as when the Saint just named declared that
nothing could be perfect joy except illtreatment of every
kind for the sake of God. But our Blessed Lord does
not lay down all these precepts without also founding
them on the most substantial reasons, addressed, indeed,
128 The Precept of Charity,
to faith. Thus it is well to proceed to once to give
the rest of the context, and then to draw out the
reasoning which it embodies or supposes. It will then
be seen that the principle which is here laid down is
thoroughly sound and intelligible, though it may seem
to overpass the natural limits of kindness and charity, and
to insist on acting from motives which transcend the
ordinary morality of mankind. It supposes a ground
of love, as has been shown above, which exists in cases
in which men do not commonly love one another. It
ignores and makes light of grounds of enmity which are
usually considered sufficient to justify the most hostile
treatment of those in whom they are to be found. And
our Lord appears to meet this difficulty at once, as if it
had been objected to Him, His words seem to meet
the objection, 'Why are we to love, and show love, in
these measures and manners? What ground is there
for the charity which is thus to be shown?' They
imply that the true charity, that which is worthy of
the name of charity, and to which the reward of
charity is due, is that which is not based upon any
consideration of self-interest, that which is not a price
paid, as it were, for similar treatment at the hand of
others. * And if you love them that love you, what
thanks are to you ? for sinners also love those that love
them. And if you do good to them who do good to
you, what thanks are to you? for sinners also do this.
And if you lend to them of whom you hope to receive,
what thanks are to you ? for sinners also lend to sinners,
for to receive as much.' Thus does our Lord deny the
false principle, on which the charity, so called, of self-
interest is founded. And He goes on immediately to
put in its place the true charity, which alone is like the
beneficence of God, Who cannot possibly gain anything
by the bounties and mercies which He bestows. ' But
The Precept of Charity, 129
love ye your enemies, do good and lend, hoping for
nothing thereby, and your reward shall be great, and you
shall be the sons of the Highest, for He is kind to the
unthankful, and to the evil. Be ye therefore merciful, as
your Father also is merciful'
Thus the principle on which our Lord grounds His
precept of charity is that we are not to do good or
practise kindness out of hope of any good thing in this
world which may result to us therefrom. That is as it
were to make a merchandise of the most noble and
beautiful virtue of which our nature is capable. It is like
buying and selling, in which case there is no credit to
be gained, and for which no one is thought worthy of
any special honour as a benefactor or hero. What we
love in those who love us, is the. good which their love
is to us, what we look to in the kindness we do to those
who do kindness to us is the benefit to ourselves, what
we seek in the lending to others who will repay us is the
service which that repayment may be. We lose nothing
and we risk nothing. This may be a sufficient motive
for external friendliness, and for the mutual assistance by
means of which merely godless societies are carried on,
but it is nothing that can have any currency in the heavenly
country to which all our thoughts and aims are to be
directed. For that it is essential that we should deserve
something on account of what we have done, something
which may be called our own, because we have earned it
at the cost of our own interest or even our own suffering.
But in order that this duty should be recognized as such,
it is necessary that the truth on which it rests should be
recognized also. That truth can be nothing else but the
fact that we are as truly God's social creatures as we
are His creatures at all, that He has placed us in society,
with all the relations and bonds which it implies, with
duties to one another and to the community at large as
J 36
130 The Precept of Charity,
truly of obligation as are duties to Himself. And this
truth is supplemented by another, that in our present
state we are on probation and on trial, and that our
whole future is to depend on the issue of that probation.
We have crowns to win or miseries to incur, and the
crowns are to be purchased by our behaviour here and
to one another. Thus to obtain the future gifts which
God has in store, we must ourselves give here below.
Our life then must be a life of beneficence and mercy.
It must be truly giving, and giving which is truly such
must bring nothing to the giver. Such is the love we
give to those who do not love us. Such are the benefits
we give to those from whom we expect no return. This
is truly the charity or beneficence of God, and should
therefore be that which His children practise. Such in
truth is the beneficence of the holy angels, the sons
of the Highest, in their deahngs with the other creatures
of God who are committed by Him to their charge.
Such, above all other examples, is the beneficence of the
Incarnate Son of God Himself, the teacher of true
charity by example before He became its teacher by pre-
cept. ' And your reward shall be great, and you shall be
the sons of the Highest, for He is kind to the unthankful
and to the evil.' Here then are two motives suggested
by our Lord for this kind of charity which He urges, as
has been already said, not only on the more perfect
disciples in His Divine school, but on those also who are
almost beginners in it. These two motives are that their
reward shall be great, and that they shall be the sons of
the Highest. Of the first motive our Lord says nothing
at this point, though He returns to it afterwards.
Those who act thus, in the second place, shall be the
;sons of the Highest, because their manner of acting
will be a repetition of His, and thus they will fulfil
the natural law by which children are bound to be
The Precept of Charity. 131
like their fathers, and by which the whole of His
Kingdom is governed on the principle that it is a great
family, the members of which are bound together by
their relation to Him first, and through Him to one
another.
It is very noticeable that this principle of the imitation
of God, the great Father of all, which seems at first sight
so subhme, as indeed it is, but also so far raised above
the common level of human actions and motives, which it
ought not to be, is alone sufficient, not only for the conduct
which our Lord enjoins, but also for the perfect explana-
tion of the difficulties which may be raised against the
indiscriminate application of His precept. In the first
place, the command to love our enemies and the rest,
may bfe said to be nothing more than a rule to act as God
acts. For certainly God loves His enemies, and shows
His love for them in the most practical measures ot
beneficence. Sin is the enemy of God, the only thing
that God hates, and the sinner hates God and, so far
as he is a sinner, is the enemy of God. But God,
though He hates sin, loves the sinner, who uses against
Him the nature which He has given him, and which is
entirely dependent for its life and exercise on His con-
tinual concurrence and assistance, for if these were
for a moment withdrawn, the existence of the sinner
would cease. No thought or word or act, no use of any
natural faculty or power, no use of the creatures external
to the sinner and necessary for his existence or for the
perpetration of the sin by which he rebels against his
Maker and God, can be begun or completed without the
assistance of God. And, all the time that the sinner is
running his course of rebellion, his most loving God is
waiting for him, contriving means for his repentance and
restoration, and loading him with a continual shower of
temporal benefits, often giving him the good things of
132 The Precept of Charity.
this world, to which he has no right, because He foresees
that He cannot hereafter give him the good things of the
next Hfe. And the greatest of all God's acts outside
Himself, is the redemption of a world of sinners, purely
out of love for them. Thus does God not only love,
but benefits His enemies.
Again, God is perpetually blessing those who curse
Him, and if He does not pray for those who calumniate
Him, it is only because He is the Being Who hears
prayer and does not make it. And indeed our Lord
in His Sacred Humanity is the great example of
prayer for His enemies. God gives to those who
calumniate Him, especially those who speak against
His truth and revile Him in His providence and govern-
ment of the world — as is the case with heretics, and with
infidels who deny Him because they cannot understand
His goodness — the benefit of many prayers, and boons
which sometimes no prayer could win. And in His
Sacred Humanity our Lord is always pleading for mercy
before the throne of His Father. It may be said that
God allows Himself to be smitten on one cheek and
turns the other to the smiter, for this is what those do,
who, when they have received an injury or an insult, do
not avenge themselves except by exposing themselves
afresh to the same unworthy treatment at the hands of
the same persons. Now this is what God does with
every sinner who has insulted Him, and to whom He
nevertheless continues the means or the faculties by
which the insult has b^en inflicted on Him. A man
uses wealth, or power, or strength, or influence, or
eloquence, or learning, against God or His Church, and
God does not take away from him the good things which
have thus been abused to an evil purpose, notwith-
standing the mischief which may again be done by their
abuse, but He continues His enemies in their possession.
The Precept of Charity, 133
or even, as is sometimes the case, He augments these
very means of evil, which have inflicted so much dis-
honour on Him. The same may be said of the other
instance of which our Lord speaks, in which a man who
has taken away our cloak is not to be hindered from
taking our coat also. For everything that men possess
or use in their wickedness belongs to God and is His
property, committed to men only that it may be used for
His service, and His service is robbed when another use
is made of it. Yet God permits men to go on using one
power or faculty after another, one period of life after
another, instead of cutting short the dishonour done to
Himself at the first transgression. He gives to every one
that asks of Him, not only in the case of prayer, which
is always answered by Him — though not always, as we
shall see, by the very gift actually asked — but also in the
free use and liberty, as to the life and faculties which He
has given them, which He allows even to the worst of
men, the men who are doing Him the most dishonour
and injury by the manner in which they avail themselves
of the indulgence which He does not deny them. They
do as they will, they are allowed to squander themselves
and the good gifts of God, their own natural gifts and their
opportunities of using them, and the external gifts of
fortune and the like, which fall in their way, and it seems
as if God never called them to an account in this world,
though there is a terrible day of reckoning for them at the
end of time.
In this way it may be said that God, in His dealings
with men, is an example of that kind of unresisting
charity of which our Lord here speaks. And on the
other hand, it is equally true that the example of God
may help us to understand that what is here recom-
mended is no foolish unreasoning and unreasonable
softness, putting itself entirely into the power of any one
134 ^^^ Precept of Charity.
who may choose to injure us, or to abuse our goodness,
inasmuch as God Himself does not act in such a manner,
but sets certain bounds and conditions, which He observes
in the very administration of His own infinite bounties.
Thus, it has already been said, that our Lord Himself,
when before the tribunal of Annas, and when He had
been struck on the cheek by one of the servants there
present, did not turn the other cheek, though His
ineffable charity was, certainly, ready not only to be
buffeted, but to die for the offender. But He remonstrated
gently but firmly against the violation of justice which
had been committed by the servant and not rebuked by
the Chief Priest. Again, St. Paul availed himself of
the rights of Roman citizenship which he possessed,
instead of meekly submitting to be handed over by the
Governor to the plots of the Jews against his life.
Again, our Lord did not always give to every one that
asked of Him what He was asked to give, as in the case
of the petition which was made for her sons by the
mother of Zebedee's children, nor did He allow the man
out of whom the legion of devils had been cast, to join
the holy company of the apostles who lived with Him.
Nor is it forbidden to Christians to resist the injustice
of men who take away their goods, or to recover their
rights or their property by the processes of law, nor are
Christian nations forbidden to go to war for a just
cause, and to defend their rights by force. Here we have
a number of instances in which this law of universal, and,
as it may be said, unreasoning, charity does not apply
at all, or has to be modified.
How then are we to know when it is of obligation,
and when it is better and more perfect not to observe it
literally ? Can we find in the manner of God's own
action the rule which is to guide us in this as in the other
instance ? In the first place, it may be said that although
The Precept of Charity. 135
God always loves His enemies, He very constantly shows
His love for them by punishments, warnings, chastise-
ments, afflictions, which He sends them in His provi-
dence, for the purpose of awakening them to repentance,
and so making them worthy of the true blessings which
He has to bestow. This would seem to point to the
truth that it may often be that the greatest act of charity
is to be severe instead of indulgent in our conduct to
others, to reprove them, to rebuke them, to deny them
the marks of friendship and esteem which they seek from
us, to refuse their requests when they would if granted
do them harm, and, when we have the power and the
commission, to punish them. This kind of conduct is not
against charity — it is the only true charity in such cases.
Again, the reason why our Lord, when before the judge
Annas, did not submit without remonstrance to the insult
which was inflicted upon Him, was probably founded
on the fact that the insult of the blow given Him was not
simply a wrong to Himself in His own individual Person,
but an outrage against the holy place of justice and the
Divine authority with which courts of justice are invested.
It was therefore our Lord's business to protest against the
violation of decency in such a place, against an insult to
the Divine Majesty which is represented in all such
tribunals, which have their real authority from God and
not from man. Here then we come on another law
which may and must frequently qualify our observance of
the simple precept of submitting to injuries which affect
our own persons or rights. In the former case it was the
private good of the person with whom we are dealing
that may make it a duty to us, not to suspend in any
way our practice of charity towards him, but to practise
our charity in the way of severity rather than of indul-
gence and submission to wrong. In this second case it
is the public good, the interest of right and law and
136 The Precept of Charity.
legitimate authority, the ordinance of God, our duties
to the Church or to the State, which may require of us
the exercise of charity in the way of resistance, remon-
strance, or even of a kind of retaliation, which may
vindicate the right and punish the offender. This is
the second case in which it is right to observe this
precept in a way different from that of simple com-
pliance, and in each of these cases the practical appli-
cation of the principle may be very frequent and very
far-reaching.
There may be other limitations, if limitations they can
be called, to the unthinking practice of submissiveness
of this kind. Our Lord mentions, certainly without
reprobation, the case of the prudent virgins in the
parable, who would not give away the oil which they
had provided, in order to help the case of the foolish
virgins who had made no such provision. ' Lest perhaps
there be not enough for you and for us.' There is an
order in the practice of the Divine virtue of charity, and
according to that order the regard we are to have for
our own souls and their spiritual interests must come
before our desire to be of service to others. Thus we
can never truly practise charity to others at the cost of
our own souls. It must often happen to a parent, a
superior, a person in an office of public trust, to find
it his duty to be severe and unkind, as it may seem,
in the exaction of what is due, in insisting on what is
right, and in this case he must act on the principle of
the order of charity of which we are speaking. There
is an anecdote of St. Catharine of Siena which illustrates
this, when she debated within herself whether she
could give to a beggar some clothes she was wearing
and which were necessary for decency, and decided that
she could not part with them, even for the sake of
clothing the naked. Again, our Lord, as has been said,
i
The Precept of Charity, 137
did not grant the petition made by the mother of His
two favoured Apostles, that they might sit on His right
hand and on His left hand, in His Kingdom. He said
they did not know what they asked, and He added that
these seats of pre-eminence were not His to give, but
should be given to those for whom they had been
prepared by His Father. ^ In this case the principle
which comes in to qualify unrestricted giving and pliancy
to the requests of those who ask of us, is that of the
due regard to the rights of others.
In all these cases, and in any other of the same kind
which may occur, it is not that we do not fulfil the law
of charity by refusing what is asked of us, or by defend-
ing our just rights, and the like. We really fulfil it more
perfectly than we should, if we were to act otherwise.
We are to imitate God in our charity, and we have also
the other rule given to us in this passage, that as we
would that men should do to us, we also should do to
them in like manner. But neither of these rules would
be followed, if we were to observe the precept of giving,
or of non-resistance to injury, in the cases which have
been mentioned. God never is deaf to any prayer that
is made to Him. But He rules all with intense love
and wisdom, and it would not be according to His
love or His wisdom if He put Himself into the hands
of His blind and foolish creatures, in granting them
their petitions just as they are made by them. He
hears the prayer, and gives them some good thing in
answer to it, but not the false good which in their
ignorance they may ask for. He regards the order of
His Kingdom, and this sometimes requires that He
should not spare even in this world those with whom
He is in general so forbearing. There are certain
offences which strike at the root of the order of things
2 St. Matt. XX. 22.
138 The Precept of Charity.
which He has established, and in such cases He is as
it were bound to vindicate that order for the sake of
the world at large or of the Church, as is the case with
persecutors, and with certain other sinners whose offences
cry to Him for vengeance. He cannot grant what is
injurious to His own honour or law, or what is contrary
to the true interests, in time and in eternity, of those
who ask amiss. Nor can we, in any reason, be desirous
that men should treat us with so much real unkindness,
as to grant all that we ask them when we ask foolishly,
and what is against our own true interests, against the
rights of others, against the law of God, against the
common good, or against the Church. With these due
qualifications and explanations, the universal law which
our Lord has here laid down is not beyond the power of
those to whom He gives it. The rules which moral
theologians have drawn out for our guidance, in which
they distinguish between what is of justice and what is
of charity, between what may be claimed in cases of
extreme necessity, and in others where the necessity is
not so urgent, are full of wisdom, and do not deserve
the taunts which the enemies of the Church have hurled
against them, as if they were explanations of the Law
reducing it to nothing, like the traditions of the Pharisees
of which our Lord complains as making the Law of God
of no avail.
It is also to be noted in general, with regard to the
passage now before us, that the thought of the love of
God, as the motive of all that is here enjoined, runs
through the whole series of precepts, as well as that of
the reward which we are to look for at His hands.
"When we are told that the love which sinners bear to
one another, and which prompts them to do one another
good in the hope of return in like kind, is not enough
for us, we are at once led to seek for some higher
The Precept of Charity. 139
motive for our love and for the good which we do,
than the love of our own interest which even sinners
can understand and act upon. But there can be no
other love higher than this, except the love of God, for
Whose sake we are to render to others the love and the
service of which our Lord here speaks. Again, when
our Lord says, as He does say, as an argument which
we are to recognize as cogent in the matter for which
He adduces it, ' What thanks are to you : ' what do
you do worthy of thanks, if you act in these concerns
only from self-love ? He implies that there is some One
from Whom thanks or retribution are to be expected,
and that the expectation of such retribution is to be the
motive, or at least a motive, for the conduct which He
recommends. Now it is certain that this retribution or
gratitude cannot come from those to whom we show
kindness, however much they may be bound and
inclined to give us the best that they can give in this
respect. For this hypothesis of repayment from them
is the very thing which He rejects as insufficient for
His disciples. The thanks, therefore, and reward are
to be repaid us by God.
And it is worthy pf remark that, in this and other
passages, our Lord should speak as if God owed us some-
thing, as is, in a certain true sense the case, because it
is the beneficence of His children that carries out His
arrangements for the government of the world, which, on
the other hand, are thwarted and opposed by the selfish-
ness of the generality of men, who so administer the
good things which are placed in their hands, as to give
the needy and weak and afflicted classes in society
reason to think that they have much to complain of in
the Providence under which they live. On the other
hand, when charity reigns in society and in the relations
between man and man, class and class, then the good
140 The Precept of Chmnty,
government of God is justified, and He has the service
done to Him which consists in that justification, as well
as that which consists in the relief and help of those who
belong to Him, according to the saying of our Lord that
whatever is done to the least of His brethren is done
unto Himself. Our Lord speaks in the same way later
on, when He tells the person who had invited Him,
' When thou makest a dinner or a supper, call not thy
friends nor thy brethren nor thy kinsfolk nor thy neigh-
bours who are rich, lest perhaps they also invite thee
again, and a recompense be made to thee. But when
thou makest a feast, call the poor and the maimed, the
lame, and the blind, and thou shalt be blessed, because
they have not wherewith to make thee recompense.'
And He adds, ' For recompense shall be made thee in
the resurrection of the just.'"^
' But love ye your enemies, do good and lend, hoping
for nothing thereby, and your reward shall be great, and
you shall be the sons of the Highest, for He is kind to
the unthankful and to the evil. Be ye therefore merciful,
as your Father also is merciful.' It seems as if our Lord
was led instinctively, if we may so speak, to dwell on the
imitation of His Father as the great motive for charity
and mercifulness, and that for this He passes over the
statement of the reward which He promises, great as it
shall be. He has made it a special benediction for one
of the former Beatitudes, that of the peacemakers, that
they shall be called the children of God. For there can
be no higher honour than to be like God in anything,
and such an imitation of Him on the part of those who
are in their stage of probation cannot be without a great
reward, apart even from its own blessedness. For He
Who is so kind to the unthankful and to the evil, must
be far more magnificent in His dealings with the thankful
^ St. Luke xiv. 12 — 14.
The Precept of Charity. 141
and faithful and good. But our Lord speaks as if the
simple resemblance to God was to be the highest of
rewards and blessings. 'Be ye therefore merciful, as
your Father also is merciful.' The range of human
mercies is comparatively small, when compared to that
of the mercifulness of God, but as far as it extends we
are to imitate our Father in this gracious virtue.
St. Thomas tells us that in itself mercy may be the
greatest of virtues, because it pours out good on others,
and relieves their necessities and deficiencies, and thus
it is the virtue of one who is above others, and when, as
in the case of God, He has no superior, it is in this sense
the highest of virtues.^ In us charity which unites us to
God may be higher, but our Lord is here speaking of
charity and mercy almost in one, for it is the mercy that
we can practise because we are the children of God. It
is also remarked by one of the great Christian writers,
that as our Lord speaks of humility as the virtue in
which we are most specially to imitate Himself, so also
He speaks of mercy as that in which we are most
especially to imitate His Father. And it is remarkable
how much the mercifulness of God is spoken of in the
Old Testament, where we should expect to find more
about His justice or omnipotence. Thus in the vision
of Moses on the Mount, it is said that he cried out,
' O the Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious,
patient and of much compassion and true. Who keepest
mercy unto thousands. Who takest away iniquity and
wickedness, and sin, and no man of himself is innocent
before Thee.'^ And so in the Psalms: 'Thou, O Lord,
art sweet and mild, and plenteous in mercy to all that
call on Thee.'" And again, 'The Lord is compassionate
and merciful, longsuffering, and plenteous in mercy. He
^ 2a. 2DS. XXX. 4.
^ Exodus xxxiv. 6, 7. " Psalm Ixxxv. 5,
142 The Precept of Charity,
will not always be angry, nor will He threaten for ever.'^
Joel cries out, ' He is gracious and merciful, patient and
rich in mercy, and ready to repent of the evil/^ And
Jonas gives it as an excuse for his reluctance to under-
take the mission to Ninive, ' I beseech Thee, O Lord, is
not this what I said when I was yet in my own country ?
Wherefore I went before to flee into Tharsis, for I know
that Thou art a gracious and merciful God, patient and
of much compassion, and easy to forgive evil.'^^ In the
New Testament God is, as St. Paul calls Him, the
'Father of mercies.' Our Blessed Lady in her Canticle
seems to pass from the contemplation of the power and
hoHness of God to that of His mercies, then again to the
display of power in the rejection of the Angels and the
exaltation of mankind, and then again she speaks of Him
as remembering His mercies in taking hold of Israel His
servant. The Canticle of Zachary is full of the merci-
fulness of God. We may pause here, then, for a few
moments to see if we can discover any special features
of the mercifulness of God which may be in a measure
imitated by us.
In the first place, it is quite certain that God is always
predisposed, so to speak, to mercy rather than to justice
in the exaction of punishment. His first act towards
His creatures, the act of Creation, is one of pure mercy,
and it implies a perpetual exertion of mercy to preserve
us. The whole history of His dealings with men is a
history of mercy, the promise of the Incarnation and
Redemption being made at once on the Fall, and the
mercifulness which dictated that promise being made the
dominant rule of all the subsequent economy. When
the sins of men obliged God to chastise the world by
the Deluge, He still remembered His mercy, and pre-
served the holy seed out of which was to come forth the
8 Psalm cii. 8, 9. ^ Joel ii, 13. i'^ Jonas iv. 2.
1
The Precept of Charity, 143
blessing for the whole race, in which even the generation
which was so chastised was to participate. On both
these occasions, it would not have been unjust in God
to destroy the world altogether, and that He did not do
this is a proof that He is more prone to mercy than to
judgment. Another instance of His mercifulness is
found in the very history which relates the destruction of
the cities of the Plain, for we are there told that, even
in that supreme hour of most just punishment for abomi-
nable sins, God listened to the intercession of Abraham,
and would have spared the whole population which was
doomed to death, if only ten righteous souls could have
been found there. But it would be useless to attempt to
enumerate all the instances of this predisposition on the
part of God. It is clearly the witness of Scripture that
He is always more disposed to mercy than to severity,
and, as the Church says in one of her collects. He
shows His almightiness rather in sparing and in having
mercy than in any other way.
We may pass on to another consideration, namely that
of the manner in which God shows Himself inclined to
mercy in the matter of rewarding His friends and
servants. It is the doctrine of Scripture and of the
Church, that God rewards intentions, designs, desires, of
doing Him service, as if they had been actually accom-
plished, even although they had never gone beyond the
stage of conception, so to speak. This is a part of His
mercy as well of His magnificence, for the reason why so
many good intentions and designs for the glory of
God do not reach their accomplishment is to be found in
the weakness and instability of human powers, in the
infirmities of our present condition, in the shortness of
life, and the like. It is a real act of compassion to take
the will for the deed, and thus to remedy the feebleness
of our poor nature out of the boundless resources of the
144 ^'^^ Precept of Charity.
goodness of God. * The Lord hath heard the desire of
the poor/ says the Psahiiist,i^ and under the word poor
we must consider that all men are included, on account
of the extreme poverty of their nature, in comparison
with the desires which they are able to conceive, and
which are thus counted by God as if they had been
put into execution. One great instance of this is the
case of Abraham, who received so large a blessing
because he was ready to sacrifice his son at the
bidding of God. Another is David, who conceived the
plan of building the Temple, a plan which he was not
allowed to execute, but for which nevertheless he received
a magnificent blessing. Some writers have seen a
reference to this doctrine in the fact that our Lord
was not able, on account of His great exhaustion, to
carry His Cross the whole way to the summit of Calvary,
but was assisted by Simon of Cyrene, as if it had been
meant that we should learn, even from Him, that there
are many enterprises for the glory or service of God
which we can only begin, but it is not for that the less of
a service to Him to begin them, or even only to desire
them. Good and great and large desires of His service
are immense blessings, and such as are capable of
winning for us an immense reward, as we are taught
to pray by the Church, that He * will raise our minds
to heavenly desires.' And St. Francis de Sales teaches
us that God often puts such desires into our hearts that
we may have the merit of them, although in His infinite
wisdom He does not mean us to carry them out. This
then is another consideration by which we may learn to
measure the mercifulness of God.
We may find a third in the truth that, when God does
reward us either for services executed or for services and
desires intended but not carried out, He rewards us very
11 Psalm X. 17.
I
The Precept of Charity. 145
far beyond the deserts of the actions or desires them-
selves. It is true that the glory of Heaven is spoken of
in Scripture as a reward in the sense of a thing deserved,
but it does not follow that the measure of recompence
does not far exceed the work done, although there may
be some proportion between the two. Our Lord in
His parables represents the rewards of the faithful
servants as something far transcending the labours
which they have undergone. They have been faithful
over a i^w things, and they are made rulers over
many things, and St. Paul says expressly, ' that which is
at present momentary and light of our tribulation,
worketh for us above measure exceedingly an eternal
weight of glory.' ^- And he says in another place, *I
reckon that the sufferings of this time are not worthy
to be compared to the glory to come which shall be
revealed in us.'^^ And it is difficult to conceive how
any earthly work can merit perfectly and adequately
an eternal reward.
Another consideration from which we may see the
boundless mercifulness of God is to be found in His
ways of dealing with those whom yet He is forced to
punish. In the first place, God waits most patiently for
the conversion of every sinner. This patience of His is
often a stumbling block to those who love Him, and who
seem to find it inexplicable. St. Peter dwells on this
difficulty in his second Epistle. He says, ' Of this
one thing be not ignorant, my beloved, that one day with
the Lord is as a thousand years, and a thousand years
as one day. The Lord delayeth not His promise, as
some imagine, but dealeth patiently for your sake, not
-willing that any should perish, but that all should return
to penance. '1^ He goes on just after, bidding them
^2 2 Cor. iv. 17.
13 Romans viii. i8. 14 2 St. Peter iii. 8,
K 36
146 The Precept of Charity,
* account the longsuffering of the Lord, salvation,' that
is, consider it as affording greater opportunities to
sinners to save their souls. Thus the chastisement of
the world by the Flood was put off at least a hundred
years from the beginning of the preaching of penance by
Noe, the Egyptians were not finally overwhelmed until
God had over and over again given them opportunities
of changing their mode of action towards the chosen
people, Saul was allowed to reign on many years after he
had been rejected by God, and our Lord showed
the utmost possible forbearance in giving Judas every
occasion of repentance. . It is true that sinners are
sometimes cut short in their career of evil, but that
may be in particular cases, in which God sees that they
would get more hardened if they were permitted a longer
life, or in which the interests of the Kingdom of God
require a swifter punishment on His enemies. For as it
is an exercise of mercy to wait for those who may
perhaps repent, it is also an exercise of mercy to cut
short the life of those who will only use a greater
length of years to heap up for themselves a more
intense and terrible punishment in the next world. With
this limitation, it may be said that God is ordinarily
marvellous indeed in His patience in awaiting the
repentance of His enemies.
We may place under the same head another truth
of which there are numberless examples — namely, that
God not only awaits the repentance of the sinner, but
also sends him many forewarnings of the coming punish-
ment which will fall on him if he does not repent.
We have examples of this rule of God's government in
the warnings addressed to the world by those of which
mention has already been made, in the warning of the
Ninivites and so many of the wicked kings of Judah
or Israel in the sacred history. And certainly our Lord
The Precept of Charity. 147
seems to have been continually taking occasion to warn
Judas of his danger, while the last prophecy, delivered
by Him on the Mount of Olives, is a long warning of
the signs which will be vouchsafed before the final Day
of Judgment. And it is probable that, when the secret
history of souls comes to be known on that last day,
one of the most marvellous of the revelations, then to
be made, will be that of the numberless secret warnings
which it will then be found that God has addressed
to all in His particular providence, and then also that
other saying of the Fathers and the Church will be
found most wonderfully true, that God never deserts
any one by the total withdrawal of grace, until the sinner
has first entirely deserted God.
We pass on to another part of the subject, that,
namely, which relates to the measure with which God treats
those whom He actually punishes, either in this world or
in the world to come. Of such the Psalmist says :
*He had not dealt with us according to our sins, nor
rewarded us according to our iniquities,' ^^ that is, even
when God punishes, when the time for patience and
warning is passed, and nothing remains for Him but
to punish, He is still, even in punishing, mindful of
mercy, because He punishes less severely than the
'deserts of the sinner would require in strict justice.
It is true that we are taught that the measure of punish-
ment, like that of reward, is in proportion to that of
the guilt, as that is in proportion to the measure of the
virtue which is crowned. Yet the justness of proportion
does not exclude a difference in the quantity and in-
tensity. Thus St. Augustine, commenting on the verse
of the Psalm,^^ ' Will God forget to show mercy, or will
He in His anger shut up His mercies ? ' says that the
words refer to the elect and not to the reprobate, but
15 Psalm cii. lo. ^^ Psalm Ixxvi. lo. -
148 The Precept of Charity.
that they may be understood even of the latter, in the
sense that while the eternal wrath of God abides on
them, yet still He does not restrain His mercies, even
in that wrath of His, inasmuch as He causes them
not to suffer all that they deserve in the way of torment,
not that they are ever to be without their punishment
or that that will ever finish, but that they may suffer
in a less degree of severity than they have deserved.
And other writers say that, even in the Day of Judgment,
God will not visit sins according to the full measure
of the wrath which they have provoked in Him, but
will judge with comparative leniency, otherwise the
wicked would be entirely destroyed. It is easy to
understand that in this world God does not punish sins
as they deserve, but it is the opinion of theologians that
Hfe will not do so even in the next world.
Another proof of the extreme mercifulness of God
is to be found in the conditions on which He forgives
sin. For He is content with the simple act of contrition,
which has the power of restoring the soul at once to
His favour and love. In the case of the diseases and
ailments of the body it is thought well if health be
regained gradually and after a long course of treatment,
but in the case of sin, which is the death rather than
the disease of the soul, life and health are regained
at once by the act of contrition. It is nothing but an
internal act, it is made in a moment, and yet it is
enough to turn the heart of God from anger and hatred
to forgiveness and fatherly love, and the forgiveness
is so complete that nothing remains of coldness or
distance between the God Who has been offended most
grievously and the sinner who is now once more His
dear child. Our Lord has painted the perfection of
this reconciliation in the Parable of the Prodigal Son,
and He has told us therein how the extreme indulgence
The Precept of Charity. 149
of the father is enough to move the envy and indig-
nation of those who have never been truants from his
love and rule. And yet the truth which He was setting
forth in that parable goes beyond even the tender lines
in which He has drawn the picture, because He spoke
only of one forgiveness, and did not mention the case
of the possible relapse of the forgiven Prodigal, over
and over again, and the readiness of the great Father
of souls to receive again and again His returning child.
And, again, the power of contrition is so great that it
can extend even to the cancelling of the debt of satis-
faction due to the justice of God as well as to the
removal of the guilt of the soul, so that it is in itself the
forgiveness of pain as well as of guilt, and it is only by
the accident, so to say, of the want of perfection in
contrition, that there remains any debt at all to be re-
moved by penance. For all that God does is perfect
in its kind, and when He forgives, the forgiveness must
be complete and absolute, as far as it concerns Him,
and it is only in ourselves that the causes of a merely
partial forgiveness are to be found.
There are yet three things to be mentioned in con-
nection with this subject of the mercifulness of God
in the forgiveness of the sinner. The first is that which
has already been partially touched in what has been
said about the power v/hich God was ready to give to
the intercession of Abraham in the case of the punish
ment of the Cities of the Plain. Holy Scripture tells
us that God would have spared them if there had been
in them ten just men. That is, God will take into
consideration the merits and the prayers of others who
have not offended Him, and will for their sake often
spare the wicked for whom they plead, or with whom
they may be connected. When we consider the position
which the Saints and friends of God occupy in "His
150 The Precept of Charity.
Kingdom, we see how marvellous is the provision for
the forgiveness of sinners which is thus made. There
are several instances in the history of the Old Testament
from which we learn how much God regards the in-
fluence, so to speak, of His servants. In the Book of
Deuteronomy Moses relates how God had, as it were,
asked him not to intercede for the people who had
sinned in the matter of the golden calves, as if He
could not execute vengeance against them if Moses
prayed for them. Something like this occurs about the
punishment of the sin of Solomon, which was deferred
and made less for the sake of his father David. And
there are instance in the histories of the saints which
seem to show us that it is often the case that a whole
city or country is spared for the sake of some one holy
person.
These mercies are instances, of course, of the averting
of temporal punishments of sin for the sake of the saints.
It may be thought that the same thing cannot be said of
the punishments of sin in the next world, and that even
in this there may be cases in which not the merits and
intercession of the saints would be enough to avert the
chastisement which is deserved by sin. Certainly there
are such cases, and of such the Prophet Ezechiel speaks
when he declares that even if Noe, Daniel, and Job
were in the land which God had determined to chastise,
they would save only their own souls by their justice
and not the souls of sons or daughters.^^ This is
certainly true, and yet it remains true that God is
wonderfully indulgent for the sake of His saints, and
most of all for the sake of His most beloved Son. And
we are here led to think of that most merciful provision
which has been made in the Church, for the remission
of that part of what is owing to God's justice which
17 Ezech. xiv. 20.
The Precept of CJuiHty. 151
can be remitted in the next world, that is the debt due
to His justice, in the way of satisfaction, by the appli-
cation of the treasures of the merits of our Lord and
the Saints by way of Indulgences. This treasure, as it is
called, must not be looked upon apart from the persons
to whose merits and sufferings it is owing that it exists
at all. It has its value in the way of satisfaction in the
eyes of God from them, and when it is used for us it is
as much a personal tie between us and them, as if their
actual intercession had been made available for us at the
same time. Our Lord said after His wonderful miracle
of the five loaves : ' Gather up the fragments that remain,
lest they be lost.' ^^ And although the merits and satis-
factions of the saints pass, as we say, into this common
treasur}-, to be applied by the Church in her exercise
of the power of the keys, still they are present to the
mind of God, not as a confused mass, like the coins
which may lie in the stores of some rich King, but
as the individual work of this or that soul dear to Him.
And when they are made fruitful to us in the way of
the forgiveness of our debt to Him, He regards them
as they are in His own most faithful remembrance, and
it is true to say that the pardon which we obtain is
granted by Him for the sake of that one of His servants
whom it pleases Him thus to honour by the remission
of pain for his sake. In this sense we may compare
the treasure of the Church which is applied to us in
this way to some very magnificent Cathedral, the work
of successive generations of devout Christians, who have-
gone before us in the faith. We kneel beneath lofty-
vaults and before marble shrines, glittering with gold
and the choicest works of art ; the light streams on us
through glorious windows, gemmed with all the hues of
the rainbow, there are magnificent chalices and gorgeous
18 St John vi.
152 The Precept of Charity,
vestments, and provision made for the music and incense
and the support of the clergy and singers who minister
in that great pile. We know not who it is that has
provided all this for the glory of God and the benefit
of the souls of His people, but in His sight all is stored
up. Not an hour of work, not a single sacrifice of the
good things of this world, not one aspiration of peni-
tence or of devotion is lost to Him, and those who
have in any way contributed to providing all this for
His service, have a share, in His Eternal Kingdom, in
all the good that goes on in the pile that has been
raised from generation to generation. And if we have
so many things told us in the Sacred Scriptures with
regard to the immense weight with Him of the inter-
cession of His servants while on earth, it is but reason-
able to consider that He will grant very great remissions
indeed for their sake, in the way of which we are
speaking, remissions corresponding far more nearly to
the love which He bears to them and to the value
which He attaches to their prayers when accompanied
by satisfaction, than to the intrinsic value of the work
which the Church may select as the condition on which
we are to be made partakers of the benefit which is
thus to be gained. Thus the mercifulness shown in
the provision for the remission of pain by means of
Indulgences is a part, and a most integral part, of the
great and most loving .provision of God's mercy in the
institution of the Sacrament of Penance itself.
When we are counting up the chief instances of the
mercifulness of God in regard of sin and sinners, we
cannot of course leave out that immense work of His
love, in the creation of Purgatory. For Purgatory is
a provision for discharging the debt due to His justice
by those countless thousands — as we may believe them
to be — who passj out of this world, generation after
The P^^ecept of Charity, 153
generation, in the state of grace, and yet without having
paid the full satisfaction which they owe to His justice.
No one but God Himself could have contrived a plan
by which His justice should be thus satisfied at the
cost of a delay in entering Heaven in those who,
without this arrangement, could never enter it at all.
And we may say much the same of that other con-
trivance of His love in which He makes the sufferings
of this life, which are involuntary in those on whom
they fall, and which, if they were dependent on the
will of men, might never have been undergone, still
as valuable to the souls who bear them patiently as if
they were so much most severe penance. For in this
way not only are the sufferings of Purgatory immensely
diminished in many cases, both because many souls are
preserved from sin by means of sufferings here below,
and because of the satisfactory power of these in-
voluntary penances, as they may be called, but in many
cases also it may be supposed that souls are enabled
to pass at once into Heaven without any further
suffering at all. It is the doctrine of many holy writers
that corporal austerities, when performed in the true
spirit of penitence and humility, are the safest means
in our power for the perfect satisfaction of the debt
which we owe to the justice of God. But so many
souls there are who shrink from this voluntary self-
chastisement, that there might be far fewer than there
are who pass to Heaven without experience of the fires
of Purgatory, except some very short suffering, if it were
not for the good Providence of our Heavenly Father,
Who so tempers the ordinary ills of this life to us as to
let us make amends to Him without being obliged to
exhibit the heroic courage of the saints, by simply and
thankfully bearing what we cannot avoid, aided by His
grace so as not to murmur or repine under His hand,
154 The Precept of Charity.
and thus paying, at a very slight cost, a debt which
it would be very hard to pay in full in the far greater
sufferings of the next world.
These considerations may serve to set before us some
at least of the measures of the mercifulness of God
which may be more or less imitated by us in our
deaUngs one with another. They may be summed up
under three heads. The first of these may be, God's
proneness to mercy rather than to revenge, or whatever
may come under che general head of revenge, whether
in judgment or in word or in action. The second head
may be that of the extreme munificence of God in
rewarding and acknowledging any service that is done
to Him, and the third may be that of His immense
tenderness and mercifulness in the treatment of those
who have offended Him, or are about to offend Him.
We cannot certainly in all these ways follow the example
set before us, for it does not depend on us to be as
magnificent as God is in those dealings with enemies of
which we have been speaking. Still, we have every
reason to imitate Him in very great proneness to mercy
of every kind, rather than to the infliction of anything
like revenge. The saints have been marvellous in the
exultation with which they have found out every reason
for favourable judgments, kind words, or beneficent
actions, and we may add that they have shown them-
selves the children of God in their overflowing gratitude
for any slight benefit they may have received. And our
Lord seems to lead our thoughts to more than one manner
in which we may emulate the mercifulness of God in the
words which immediately follow, and which we have no
good reason for separating from those on which we have
been commenting. For after saying, *Be ye therefore
merciful, as your Father also is merciful,' He goes on at
once, ' Judge not and you shall not be judged, condemn
The Precept of Charity, 155
not and you shall not be condemned, forgive and you
shall be forgiven, give and it shall be given to you,'
and the rest. Thus it seems as if in those four things
at least our Lord means us to imitate our Father's
mercifulness — in refraining from judgment, in refraining
from condemnation, in forgiving offences against our-
selves, and lastly in giving to others according to our
opportunities. These at least, then, are matters as to
which the example of God may be followed by us, and
at the same time we may consider that in these four
things, or rather in the reward that corresponds to them,
as He goes on to explain, we may find the second of
the motives which He has suggested above for that
great charity and mercy which He recommends in this
part of the Sermon on the Plain. For He gave two
reasons for this charity, that we should be the children
of the Highest, and that our reward should be great.
We have been endeavouring to draw out some of the
features of this example of God, which is thus set before
us, and we may proceed in the next chapter to consider
the question of the great reward which is promised to
us if we act as His children in this respect.
CHAPTER VIII.
Measure for Measure.
St. Luke vi. 37, 38 ; Vita Vita; Nbstrce, § 48.
The four precepts which are now added by our Lord to
His exhortation to the imitation of the mercifulness of
God, may be considered as so many explanations given
us of what that mercifulness is, or at least of those
features in it which are capable of imitation by us.
Or they may be considered as setting before us certain
great elements of the reward which has been promised to
us, if we are perfect in the practice of this precept of
charity. There is yet a third manner of regarding the
passage on which we are now to comment. In the
former verses our Lord has insisted on the practice of
charity, and, in order to that, of patience and of muni-
ficence. He now adds another virtue, that of mercy, in
the matters which are presently to be mentioned, as a
further aid to the practice of the charity on which He is
mainly insisting. It will be well to keep this threefold
line of explanation before the mind in the comments
which we are about to make on this passage, although
we incHne, as has been said, to consider that the thought
of the reward which is here promised to the merciful,
and which has not hitherto been explained by anything
that our Lord has said, is the dominant thought in the
whole context.
It cannot be doubted, in any case, that the example of
God is most clear and precise in regard of the four
Measttre for Measure. 157
matters on which our Lord now speaks. It is certainly
quite true that God does not judge, that He does not
condemn, that He forgives, and that He gives with a
largeness and bountifulness of which there is no other
example. In this sense the commentary of those who
regard these words as explanations of the preceding
injunction of the imitation of our Father's mercifulness,
is undoubtedly well founded in the words of the text :
'Judge not and you shall not be judged, condemn not
and you shall not be condemned, forgive and you shall
be forgiven, give and it shall be given to you, good
measure and pressed down, and shaken together, and
running over, shall they give into your bosom.' He
then gives the reason for this, which is a principle and a
law of God's dealings with His rational creatures, in the
words which conclude the passage : ' For with the same
measure that you shall mete withal, it shall be measured
to you again.' We shall presently speak of the principle,
after saying a few words on the four heads under which
our Lord ranges the exercise of the mercifulness' which
He recommends to us.
In the first place, then, we are told not to judge, and
that if we do not judge, we shall not be judged. How
is this injunction a command to imitate God? God is
certainly the judge of all and He will not forbear, in due
time, to execute the office of our Judge. That will be
at the end of the season of probation, of which the
present stage of the history of the world consists. In
the meanwhile, God seems to adjourn as far as possible
the judgment of man. His great gentleness in this
respect is conspicuous in the Scripture history of the fall
of our first parents, in which it seems as if God were
described as giving them every opportunity of seeking
for pardon, before He passed on them the sentence
which had been threatened, and of explaining what they
158 Measure for Measure.
had done in a manner to win forgiveness. God does
not reproach and sentence them till they have condemned
themselves out of their own mouths. The same thing
may be remarked in our Lord's conduct to the poor
woman taken in the act of adultery, for He would not
condemn her. And with regard to the whole race of
mankind, God has so far forborne from judgment and
condemnation, as to provide, at the cost of the death of
His own Son on the Cross, for the perfect condonation
and cancelling of all offences. With regard to
ourselves, this precept certainly forbids the whole habit
of passing even only interior judgments on one
another, to which we are so prone, and this on the
ground which has been explained in the commentary
on the same precept in the Sermon on the Mount,
namely, that we have no jurisdiction over the actions
or motives of others, as we have over our own by the gift
of conscience. God alone is the Judge of men, and
He alone can see that which gives their true character
to all 'that is said and thought and done, that is the
heart, which no one but He can read. If He Who is
thus the natural judge of men, is yet so slow in exer-
cising His right of judgment. His example comes with
twofold weight upon us who have no such right. It is
true that there are many cases in which we are allowed,
or enjoined to a certain extent, to form an opinion on
the external acts of which we can take cognizance, but
in these cases a kind of jurisdiction is conferred on
certain persons for the good of society, or the Church,
or the family or community, as the case may be, or even
for the good of the person himself w^ho judges or is
judged. And if we are not to judge, much less are we
to condemn. Condemnation implies a complete
cognizance of the case, so far as it is subject to
punishment of any kind whatsoever, even to that only
Measure for Measure, 159
which consists in the verdict of the individual mind
which condemns another as guilty of this or that crime.
Condemnation follows on judgment as the sentence on
the verdict in a case of human justice, and is therefore
distinct from it. Strictly speaking, to pass in our minds
an absolutely favourable judgment on another is as much
an exercise of jurisdiction as to pass an unfavourable
judgment. We have in neither case the right or the
capacity. But to condemn is to carry out our unfavour-
able judgment to the final issue of the allotment of the
retribution due to guilt, and this is specially forbidden
us, whereas wx are not forbidden to deal out to men the
good w^hich may correspond to the favourable judgment
which w^e may have formed of them.
The promise here made by our Lord to those who
will fulfil this heavenly precept is very great indeed.
Those who do not judge will not be judged, and those
who do not condemn will not be condemned. St. Paul,
in the Epistle to the Romans,^ speaks in a way which
may illustrate at least a part of the meaning of this
great promise. He says, ^Thou art inexcusable, O
man, whosoever thou art that judgest, for wherein thou
judgest another, thou condemnest thyself, for thou dost
the same things which thou judgest.' For there is a
peculiar sentence in reserv^e for those who judge others,
in the sense in which the words are here used, inasmuch
as it is worse to do what we condemn in others, and the
fact that we have judged these things in others shows
that we are without all excuse on the score of ignorance
ourselves. In this sense the judgment and the con-
demnation which w^e escape by forbearance wdth others in
these matters, is the judgment and condemnation of those
who know what is wTong and condemn it in others, and
yet do it themselves. But this would hardly be enough
1 Chap. ii.
i6o Measure for Measure,
to satisfy the full meaning of the words of the passage
before us. They seem to mean, not, certainly, that if we
refrain from judging and condemning, God will altogether
refrain from judging us and from passing the condemna-
tion which truth and justice may require, on what is
amiss in us as such, but that He will in His judgment of
us take into consideration our observance of this com-
mandment as a circumstance in our favour, just as He
will take the circumstance of readiness in judgment and
condemnation of others into account, against those who
do not keep this precept, and that on that account His
judgment of us will be as favourable as if we had not
offended Him. For He will count our mercifulness to
others as a sufficient satisfaction for what we have done
ourselves, and thus the severe judgment and condemna-
tion which we might otherwise have merited will not be
passed on us. This is as if no judgment and con-
demnation at all were to be passed.
It would of course be foolish to understand those words
as meaning, what would be subversive of the whole system
of God's government of the world, that if we do not repent
of our own sins we shall be forgiven them for the sake
of our mercifulness to the sins, as they might seem to us,
of others, but that, if we do not judge, we shall very
easily find the grace of penitence, and that the
punishment due to our offences will be cancelled by
our own mercifulness. And in the same way when
it is added, ' Forgive and it shall be forgiven,' it is not
meant that the simple forgiveness of the offences of others
will be enough to cancel unrepented sins of our own,
but that the forgiveness of the offences of others is the
condition on which we shall ourselves find pardon, when
we come to seek it in the right way and in the
proper dispositions, and those dispositions will be very
easily secured by those who practise forgiveness towards
Measure for Measure. 1 6 1
others, whereas the unforgiving will never be able to gain
them. And He adds, 'Give and il: shall be given to
you,' going on in that beautiful way of His to set the
bountifulness of His Father before us in the fullest
outline, ' good measure, and pressed down, and shaken
together, and running over shall they give into your
bosom.' The image is taken from the manner in which
ample measure is given of corn or some other valuable
which is contained in large chests or baskets, when first
of all the measure is true and large in itself, then the
grain is pressed down, in order that still more may be
given, then shaken together in order that all the corners
and chinks may be filled up, and finally made to run
over the sides of the measure, till it is no longer possible
to add anything more. Such is the magnificence of God
in returning, to those who keep this precept of charity and
mercifulness, the good with which they have honoured
Him in its observance. This is the reward of which
mention was made just before this passage, a reward of
which our Lord Himself says that it shall be great
indeed. And He adds, as has been said, the principle
of the Divine government of the world of which this,
promise is an exemplification, ' for with the same
measure that you shall mete withal, it shall be measured
to you again.'
It would not be difficult to draw out the series of
precepts of which we have now reached, as it were, the
final strain, in two parallel stanzas, so to speak, answering
the one to the other as the strophe and antistrophe of a
Greek chorus. The first series would begin with the
precept of love to enemies, and end with the maxim in
which our rules for dealing with others are summed up
in the words, ' As you would that men should do to you,
do you also to them in like manner.' And the second
would begin a little further on, where, after having
L 36
1 62 Measure for Measure,
explained that it is of no merit to love those who love us
in return, and the like, our Lord once more begins as
before, 'Love ye your enemies,' and the rest. This
stanza or strophe would continue as far as the words
on which we are now engaged, ' For with what measure
you shall mete withal it shall be measured to you again.'
In each case the concluding sentence would form a
climax, in the first strophe siunming up the whole series
of rules for our own conduct to others, and in the
second strophe summing up the rule by which God acts
in His deaUngs with us, as our Lord and Judge. In
each case the concluding climax would be the most
important part of the whole series of precepts or injunc-
tions. And there is an obvious connection and corres-
pondence between these two maxims, of our own
conduct and of the conduct of God. For in the first
case we are told to make our own desires the rule of
our dealings with others, and in the second case we are
taught that God will make our own line of conduct to
others the rule of His treatment of ourselves. Thus the
second maxim adds the sanction for and the reason of
the first, and we are taught to treat others as we should
wish them to treat us, because God will treat us as we
treat them. There is a certain obvious equity and right-
fulness about the first maxim, it is in accordance with
reason and a right intelligence of our position one to
another in society, that we should do as we would be
done by. But it is far more important that we should
know that this rule of conduct has a far higher and
deeper reason and sanction than anything which might
be recognised as ' becoming ' by the foolish speculators
who do not believe in a God, in a future world, in
conscience, or duty, or the objective difference between
right and wrong. It is most important that the whole
truth should be before us as to the issues which are
Measure for Measure. 1 63
involved in our rules of treatment one of another, and
this is supplied by the second of these two maxims, of
which we are now speaking, that according to our own
measure it shall be meted to us again by God.
It has been said more than once, in the course of our
considerations on this Sermon, that it is addressed, in
great part, to persons not so far advanced in the school
of our Lord as those who formed the audience in the
case of the Sermon on the Mount. If this is so, we
should naturally expect to find that our Lord does not
appeal to principles or truths which are more or less the
exclusive property of the chosen nation, but rather to
those truths which belong most properly to natural
religion, or, rather, to the original revelation of the
Divine laws which was made to man at the beginning of
his long pilgrimage through the world. It is remarkable
that, in the Sermon on the Mount, our Lord subjoins to
the precept on doing to others as we would have them do
to us, the words, ^ For this is the Law and the Prophets.'
In the parallel passage in this discourse He omits these
words. On the other hand, it is in this Sermon only that
He inserts the words on which we are now commenting,
which tell us that according to the measure that we mete
withal it shall be measured to us again. These words,
therefore, are in some sense substituted here for the
others about the Law and the Prophets. What is
required in order that they may have their full force
upon us is, not so much the knowledge of the republica-
tion of the natural law which was made to the chosen
people on Mount Sinai, as the simple recognition of the
law of conscience as a revelation of the will of God,
made in the heart of every child of Adam, as a voice
which speaks to us with the authority of a sovereign and
a Judge, a voice the declarations of which appeal
silently and most forcibly to a future vindication of their
164 Measure for Measure,
authority at the hands of One whose behests cannot be
gainsaid. To any one in whom the authority of
conscience is a living power, the words of which we
speak are very intelligible indeed, and they point
to our responsibility, to the future judgment and
retribution, to an endless time during which our lot
will be that which corresponds to the decisions of that
great Day of account. This is all that is necessary in
order to give the words of which we are speaking
their full weight and authority.
In this sense it is true to say that these words are the
most important of the whole context, because the whole
of what has gone before is built upon them. Why are
we to do all these hard things in the way of charity ?
Why are we to love our enemies, why are we to bless and
benefit those who injure and calumniate us, why are we
to pray for those who treat us badly, to do good, hoping
for nothing in return here, why are we to pass no
judgment on others, nor to condemn them, to forgive
and to give freely, and the like ? It is because it is the
rule of God's government of the world, that on our own
action in all these particulars depends the measure with
which He will treat us, because that measure is nothing
more or less than that which we use in our dealings one
with another. We are to do these things, many of them
so hard to our poor, narrow, and selfish characters,
because if we do them not we shall be in the greatest
danger, and if we do them we shall win for ourselves the
greatest and happiest security. For it is a truth which
we cannot escape, and which we strive in vain to
make ourselves forget, that we have an eternity before
us, for which this short time of our life here is a pre-
paration, the only preparation which we are allowed to
make, and that our condition there, where the joys and
the sorrows are so immensely greater and more intense
Measure for Measure. 165
than any joys or sorrows of this stage of our existence,
having besides the terrible quality of immutability
when they are once settled for us. Well, by the side
of this truth this other is to be placed, that with what
measure we mete withal it shall be measured to us again.
Our Lord more than once uses this impersonal form of
language, it shall be done to you, it shall be repaid you,
it shall be required of you, and the like, and it is usually
some rule of the government of God of which He so
speaks. For He does not ordinarily mention His
Father's name, at least among those who do not love
Him much, without some reserve and, as it were,
reverence. But He is here certainly speaking of God.
He it is Who will measure to us according to the
measure with which we mete to others. But it must
be remarked that although God deals with us accord-
ing to our own measure, He does so by taking our
measure as the rule of His own, according to the pro-
portion between His own magnificence and the bound-
lessness of His wealth in every possible kind of good,
and our own poor and narrow means of giving and
practising mercy. The measure which we mete is the
measure of God's dealings with us, but it is in the
way of proportion and not of exact correspondence.
It is as if some rich father of earth were to give his
children a few small and almost worthless coins, and to
reward them according to the use which they make of
them by giving them an immense treasure of the purest
gold for the good use of each single farthing. No com-
parison of this kind can come up to the difference
between the goods with which God rewards the faithful-
ness on earth of His children, because there is more
proportion between the finest gold and the most
worthless dross here, than between earthly goods and
eternal goods, spiritual goods and the goods which we
1 66 Measure for Measure.
call such in relation to this life. This is partly hinted
at by our Lord., when He speaks of the good measure
heaped up and pressed down and shaken together and
running over, which shall be given into our bosom.
So again He tells His Apostles, at a later date, that they
and all who have left earthly things to follow Him, shall
have a hundredfold in this present life, not meaning that
the reward shall be paid in exactly the very same
things that have been abandoned for God, but that it
shall be in the proportion which He names.
This then is the law of His Father's Providence, with
which our Lord closes this great teaching on the subject
of charity, and which He assigns as the sufficient motive
and reason for the conduct which He has been recom-
mending. And we may surely think that the simple
enunciation of this most loving and wise law must
have been an immense consolation to the Sacred Heart
of our Lord, which was always occupied in the grateful
contemplation of the works and ways of God in His
dealings with the creation which He has made, and
into which He had Himself come down, in order to
give to its Creator and Lord the glory and the homage,
the love and gratitude, which were due to Him. And if
our Lord could have been carried away by sanguine
hopes as to the correspondence of mankind to the
bountiful arrangements of their God, if He had not
known, as St. John says of Him, what was in man. He
might, as we may think, have been filled with the greatest
possible joy, not only at the law itself according to which
God had determined to deal with men, but also at the
prospect which might have opened itself before Him,
of the great glory to God which this rule of action
would produce, and the wonderful riches and blessings
which men would thus win for themselves by their use
of the bountiful measure which was to be dealt to
Measure for Measure. 167
them, and which, in truth, opened the whole of the
infinite treasures of God's Kingdom to them at their
will. If men care to be dealt with by their Heavenly-
Father according to their own measure, then there is
nothing that they may not win from God. They have
themselves to fix the amount of the blessings which are
to be theirs. They have but to set the rule themselves,
what God is to give and to forgive, how liberally He is to
pour forth on them what He has to bestow, how com-
pletely He is to cancel any debts which they may owe to
His justice, how far He is to exert His infinite power in
making them eternally happy, all this is simply in their
own hands. • A rule such as this is nothing more or less
than an invitation to them, to say how and where their
lot is to be cast in His Kingdom hereafter.
When we come to dwell a little more carefully on this
great law of the Kingdom of God, we see how perfectly
it provides for the utmost possible happiness, even here,
both of mankind in general and of each individual soul.
For God loves men, not only singly and one by one —
though He loves them and provides for them in this way
as if each single soul was the universe itself to Him,
as if He had nothing else to watch over and to care for,
nothing else to redeem, nothing else to glorify. He is
the Author of human society as well as the Father
and Creator of men, one by one. And, supposing
man to have faith in His promises and intelligence of
this law which He has made, as the rule of His judgment
of men at that final day to which all consciences
instinctively look forward — that is, supposing men to
beheve concerning Him those elementary truths alone of
which St. Paul speaks when he says that those who come
to God must believe that He is, and that He is a
rewarder of them that seek Him — nothing more than
this law is wanted to secure the absolute happiness and
1 68 Measure for Measure,
well being of that system, of His contrivance and
institution, which we call human society. For if this
law were the living and ' directing power by which the
conduct of men was ruled, society would consist of a
multitude of brethren each one anxious to secure for
himself the greatest possible blessings hereafter by the
most loving possible treatment now of every one who
came in his way. The more occasions there were for
the practice of kindness and benevolence, the greater
would be the eagerness of men to use them for the
securing of the benevolence and love of their Heavenly
Father. The poor, the weak, the miserable, the
afflicted in all possible phases and forms of misery and
calamity, would be sought out, and treasured, and
made much of, as the greatest benefactors and bless-
ings. In such a society men would be avaricious of
nothing so much as of opportunities of doing good.
They would be ambitious of spending themselves and
all they have in charity to others, with an ambition
more eager and more consuming than that which now
drives them to so many excesses of cruelty and
injustice. The war of class against class would only
exist in a rivalry of beneficence and loving service.
The good things of this world would only be valued
in proportion as they could be got rid of in the cause
of good and the relief of want. Power, rank, and
position would be used with the utmost devotion for
the common good, and the men who were tempted to
hoard and keep for themselves would not only be known
as public enemies, but as enemies of their own souls as
well as of the happiness of others. Nothing more than
this law is required to make earth an antechamber of
Heaven.
It is of course only too plain that men have not the
faith sufficient for the realization of such prospects as
i
Measure for Measure, 169
this, and we may well feel sure that our Lord did not
indulge in any anticipations of perfection in human
society which left out of sight the blindness, and the
folly, and the selfishness, of the members of that society.
But it is well to pause a moment before proceeding, to
remark that this rule of God's action is no fiction of
imagination, no dream of an enthusiast, but a simple
truth, and that God cannot have meant it to be forgotten
or ignored in the social life of mankind. And, just as
the simple truth of the supremacy of conscience, accord-
ing to our faithfulness to which we shall ultimately be
judged, and by nothing else, answers all the complaints
which are so commonly made about the severe conditions
on which salvation seems to be promised — as if it were
beyond the reach of the great majority of mankind — so
does this law of God for the government of the world
answer all the difficulties which are so commonly felt
about the hardness of the social system under which men
have to live. Something has already been said on this
subject in the remarks made on the Sermon on the
Mount, but here we may add that it is the failure of men
to observe the commandments of God, with regard one
to another, which causes all the social miseries and
dangers of which we hear so much. Society is a
Divine institution, and on this truth rests our duty of
civil allegiance and of submission to the laws and the
government under which we live. On this truth rests
the other truth, that to conspire against society, to
break the law, to rebel, to violate the rights of property
as settled by law, to set class against class, in the same
community, and the like, are so many sins against God,
the Author of Society, as well as transgressions of
merely human law and the rights of others. This is
all true, and it is a truth that in our days is too often
forgotten by those who find themselves hardly or even
1 70 Measure for Measure.
tyrannically treated by the legal or social system under
which they live. The doctrine of St. Paul that ^ there
is no power but of God, and those that are, are ordained
by God. Therefore he that resisteth the power, resisteth
the ordinance of God, and they that resist purchase to
themselves damnation,' ^ has to be again and again pro-
claimed by the Church, even to children of her own
in various nations who have too much provocation to
forget it.
But this truth is not the only truth to which atten-
tion is due on the part of rulers and subjects, and
various classes of society. It is also true that God
has established society, not simply as the laws of
nature are imposed on the physical creation, — to be
followed by necessity which the creatures cannot escape,
but as an institution for free and intelligent beings
who know that they have a future before them, a
judgment to undergo, a reward to win, a responsibility
which they cannot avoid, and a time of probation
which is soon to be at an end. On such beings, no com-
pulsion can be exercised to make them keep the laws
which are fraught with so many blessings to themselves,
both as individuals and as members of society. Men
have made of these laws much what they have made
of all the other provisions of God's merciful love towards
them. That is, they have violated them outrageously,
whenever such violation was counselled by their own
passions or their own interests, and the social world is
in consequence the jungle of noxious weeds, each
striving to choke the other in the struggle for life,
which it is, instead of the fair garden of charity and
mutual assistance which God destined it to be. The
Church upholds the principles on which society was
first established by its Maker, but she cannot save the
1 Romans xiii. i, 2.
Measure for Measure, 171
world from the consequences of the continual departure,
on the part of ruling and privileged classes and
individuals, from the law which God intended to guide
their actions with regard to others, less outwardly
favoured than themselves. In this case, also, men
reap what they have sown and they receive the measure
which they have dealt out to others. At this moment,
the civilised world is full of dethroned sovereigns, or the
innocent representatives of dethroned sovereigns, and
they, as well as the nations which have discarded them,
are suffering from the consequences of a long series of
abuses of power and unfaithfulnesses to the highest
trusts, on the part of those whose titles they inherit, while
they are, in truth, expiating their crimes. What has
happened to royal houses has also happened to w^hole
classes, which in various countries have had large powers
and privileges committed to them by Providence, powers
which they have misused, and privileges which they have
prostituted to the most un\torthy purposes and aims.
Retribution has come on them in due course, by the
permission of Providence. It is shortsighted and
foolish to attribute the evils under which society
groans in times like our own, to the immediate authors
of the revolutions or wars which have brought about
the existing state of things. They have their own
burthens to bear before the judgment-seat of God.
But their power and success has come, in too many
cases, from the faults of those whose legal rights they
have trampled under foot — faults which do not justify at
once the rebellions or usurpations which have followed
on them as their chastisement, but which have generated
the miseries and the passions which have caused so much
mischief, so as to make men think that the days are at
hand, when the whole social fabric is to be destroyed or
dissolved. What men sow, that also they reap, and the
172 Measure for Measure,
harvest is often adjourned, for others who represent them
to experience. In this way we see, even in the outward
history of the world, an exemplification of the principle
here enunciated, that with the measure with which men
mete to others it shall be measured to them again.
It is probable that, if we could now read the course
of Providence, whether with regard to nations, or to
lesser communities, such as famiHes, and the like, which
are dealt with in the government of the world as unities,
or again, with regard to single persons, we should be
surprised to see how uniformly and exactly this law of
measure for measure is acted on, in perfect harmony
with all the other rules by which Providence acts. And
yet, here and now, we can only hope to discern imper-
fectly that small part of the government of God which
is carried out in this life, and in this stage of the history
of man. As nothing happens without the arrangement
or the permission of God, so nothing may happen to us
which has not been, in some way or other, determined
or influenced by our own conduct to others. We may
remember the case of the hermit in the desert, who said
that he had blamed other persons for three faults, and
had himself been allowed to fall into just those three
same faults. It is certainly constantly to be observed
in the history of families, that dutiful children are
rewarded by having their own children dutiful to them,
while those who have been disobedient or overbearing
to their own parents are punished in the same kind
themselves, the charitable meet with mercy, the hard-
hearted are repaid in kind. These are but instances of
the operation of the law of which we are speaking, and
it is probably the truth that to the eyes of the Angels
a great part of the Providence of God, which it is their
continual joy and wonder to gaze upon, is an exempli-
fication of the same rule. It is less important to us,
Measure for Measttre. 173
however, that we should be able to trace, imperfectly
as it must now be, the working of this law of retribution
in the course of God's Providence, than that we should
be practically convinced that the law exists, and that its
working is always going on. This conviction would
generate in us much of that holy fear of God which is
the beginning of true wisdom, and we should deal
reverently and carefully with others, in a thousand
occasions of every-day life, in which we now conduct
ourselves as if they were but of little importance to us.
But all our actions are noted in the books of God, and
we are thus writing there, hour after hour, what will meet
us again, perhaps here, but certainly hereafter, in the
form of a return to us of what we have done to others.
The lives of the saints are full of the blessedness of
kind thoughts, charitable judgments, the mind that will
conceive no hard opinion, the heart that is always
wishing good, as well as that of the open hand, and
the charity that is ever ready to serve others at any cost
to itself. But even the lives of the saints can only
partially lift the veil which conceals from us the real
history of the souls of men, and it will be one of the
occupations of eternity to trace the wisdom and beauty
of the dealings of God with each single soul, and with
the whole race of mankind — wisdom and beauty which
are perhaps displayed in nothing more fully than in the
way in which, according to the measure which we have
used towards others, it is meted to us again.
The present penal condition of human life, and the
many seeds of evil which lurk and fructify in every
human soul, make it natural that, however large is the
sphere open to beneficence in general, a very great part
of that range of our conduct to which this rule is appli-
cable should be that of our dealings with others against
whom we have some kind of complaint. The forgiveness
1 74 Measure for Measicre.
of injuries forms the most important subject on which
the principle of retribution is brought to bear, both
because we have so many occasions of forgiving, and
because, from the hardness and littleness of our hearts,
we find it so difficult to forgive.
If we compare this passage with the parallel passage
in the Sermon on the Mount, from which it is partly
taken, we are struck with the greater fulness of develop-
ment here given to the counsel or precept of forgiveness
in particular. Our Lord here insists severally on points
which may be said in the Sermon on the Mount to be
summed up in the single precept not to judge, in order
that we may not be ourselves judged. Here He adds
the words against condemnation, and the words also
about forgiveness of others. It is very probable that
we have here an incidental confirmation of the great
and scrupulous accuracy of the Evangelists, and that
our Lord may have here added these other words to
the passage as it stood in the earfier Sermon, because
He does not, in this Sermon, give the form of His own
prayer, to which, in the former Sermon, He had sub-
joined the passage about the necessity of forgiveness, as
a comment on the petition that we may be forgiven as
we forgive others. It is also likely that the words on the
subject of the forgiveness of others are insisted on in the
later Sermon, for the sake of the very great importance
of this precept for those who are approaching the true
faith and the Kingdom of God, as was the case with a
great part of the audience on this occasion. In any
case, it is well to pause here for a moment and dwell
a little more fully on the comments which we find in the
Fathers on the extreme importance of the fulfilment of
this command.
The comments in question have been collected for us
by one of the most eminent among the Catholic writers
Measure for Measure, 1 75
on the Gospels, and we shall do little more now than
follow his guidance. In the first place, then, Cardinal
Toletus tells us that there are three considerations, with
regard to God, which have much weight in enforcing
this commandment. The first is that, however great
may be the offence against ourselves, which we are called
on to forgive, it is certain that God has forgiven us
offences which are by far greater. This of course is the
doctrine insisted on by our Lord Himself in the parable
of the Unmerciful Servant, who would not forgive a debt
of a hundred pence, when he had just been forgiven by
his lord a debt of ten thousand talents. And even this
parable of our Blessed Lord is itself an expansion of the
idea contained in the words of Ecclesiasticus, ' Man to
man reserveth anger, and doth he seek remedy of God ?
He hath no mercy on a man like himself, and doth he
entreat for his own sins?'- In the second place, we
need not make a comparison between our own offences
against God and those of our neighbour against our-
selves, as if there were an absolute distinction between
them, for every offence of our neighbour against us is,
at the same time, an offence against God, and a greater
offence against God than against ourselves. Yet God
is ready to forgive the offence against Himself, which is
the largest part of the whole, and it is therefore un-
reasonable of us to refuse our forgiveness of that lesser
part which relates to us. And if our neighbour does not
ask our forgiveness, that is little to the point, because
God asks for him, and our Lord asks for him also, and
therefore we are more than ever bound to remit the debt.
In the third place, the author before us places the
example of our Lord, Who suffered and suffers, at the
hands of men, far greater things than we can suffer at
their hands, and yet He forgives absolutely, and has,
2 Ecclus, xxviii. 3, 4.
1 76 Measure for Measure.
indeed, paid the price of all these offences against
Himself.
Toletus adds other considerations, drawn from the
precept itself of which we are now speaking. In the
first place, he says, it is not a precept which is imposed
on us alone, but on all men generally, and so we gain
* the benefit of it when there is anything which others
have to forgive in us. We have a few persons to forgive,
and we have perhaps a great many more from whom we
need forgiveness. Again, we are not asked to forgive
others for their own sakes, but for the sake of God, a
motive of infinite power on all reasonable men. The
third consideration is that of the immense reward which
is to be gained by the exercise of this virtue of the
forgiveness of others, and the fourth is, that of the will
of God, which is paramount, and has the highest claims
on our joyful allegiance and obedience. It has been
the will of God that we should suffer this or that, at the
hand of one of our brethren. This consideration is the
foundation of the conduct of David, when he was cursed
by Semei, and would not allow his officers to avenge
him. He said, '■ Let him alone, and let him curse, for
the Lord hath let him curse David, and who is he that
shall say. Why hath He done so? . . . Perhaps the
Lord may look upon my affliction, and the Lord may
render me good for the cursing of this day.'^
Then there are also other reasons founded on the
condition of the person himself who does us any wrong.
He is far more injured than we are, he does himself
more harm than he does to us, for if he sins, he hurts
his own soul, and he cannot hurt ours, except it be that
he provokes us to unforgivingness. Again, we do not
know that the person who offends us is not to be here-
after our partner in the eternal glories of the next world,
3 2 Kings xvi. 10.
I
Measure for Measure, 177
and it is foolish to expose ourselves to any danger for
the sake of not forgiving one who is to be our brother
in Heaven. And, again, our neighbour may often intend
to hurt us, or do us an injury, while he is in truth our
benefactor, and what he does against us turns to our
great good. This is often true even of temporal matters,
but it is always true of spiritual interests, for any one
who does us an injury gives us the precious opportunity
of laying up for ourselves a great treasure in Heaven, by
our patience and forgivingness, and puts it in our power
to cancel an immense amount of our own debt to God,
by forgiving him.
Lastly, with regard to ourselves, we must either forgive
or not forgive, and if we do not, we injure ourselves far
more seriously than our enemy has injured us, or than
we can injure him in our measure of vengeance. On the
other hand, if we forgive, we conquer our enemy in
the noblest and most complete manner. Moreover,
the condition of those who are always occupied with the
thought and desire of avenging themselves on others,
is one of the greatest and most continual torment and
anxiety, and we deliver ourselves from this great misery
by the simple act of forgiveness, which brings with it so
much peace and quiet of soul and of conscience. And,
to conclude, we are ourselves debtors in many ways to
justice, and it is a benefit when the hard treatment we
receive at the hands of any one else, pays off upon us
the faults of which our own conscience accuses us.^
■* See Toletus, in Luc. c. vi,'
M 36
CHAPTER IX.
Blind Gtddes and Careless Hearej's.
St. Luke vi. 39 — 45 ; Vita VitcB NostrcB, § 49.
It may be remembered that the conclusion of the
Sermon on the Mount contains a number of topics,
the general purport of the whole passage in which they
occur being one of warning against dangers to the faith
or the practice of the disciples, which our Lord discerned
rather, perhaps, as future than as immediately present
at the time at which that discourse was delivered.
These topics embrace, among other subjects, the narrow-
ness of the way of life, the comparative fewness of those
who find it, and the warning against false prophets or
teachers who come in the clothing of sheep but are
inwardly ravenous wolves. The disciples are warned
that they will know these teachers by their fruits, that
many will call on our Lord at the Day of Judgment
as having taught and worked miracles in His name,
of whom He will protest that He never knew them,
and the whole Sermon ends with the famous figure or
parable of the two foundations, that on the rock and
that on the sand. The conclusion of the Sermon on
the Plain, of which we are now to speak, is evidently
more or less formed on the plan of that of the former
Sermon. There is but little in it which has not been
said in some way or other, in the Sermon on the Mount,
and yet it is most certainly not a repetition of that
Sermon. The conclusion of the Sermon on the Plain
i
Blind Gtddes and Ca^^eless Hearers. 179
begins by what St. Luke calls a similitude or parable,
a question by our Lord about the blind leading the
blind, which is new in this place, and has no precedent
in the earlier discourse. But after this our Lord seems
to go back to the former Sermon, and He introduces
the passage about the mote in our brother's eye which
we are so ready to see, while we have no thought
for the beam in our own. Then come some words
about the good tree not bringing forth evil fruit, and
the rest, which also are taken from the earlier Sermon,
and they are followed by some other words about a
man bringing forth out of the treasure of his heart
things either good or evil according to the character of
the heart itself. These are to be found elsewhere in
our Lord's teaching, but not in the Sermon on the
Mount. The whole discourse ends with the figure of
the two foundations, repeated, though not in the same
words, from the former Sermon, We have thus some
differences to account for, and a question arises as to the
exact application of the passages which are here taken
from the earlier teaching.
One difference between the Sermon on which we are
now commenting, and the Sermon on the Mount, con-
sists in the fact that in the present case we have
reason for knowing that our Lord addresses Himself,
at different stages of the discourse, to different classes
in the audience, whereas we know nothing of the kind
in the case of the Sermon on the Mount. If this be
so, we can only judge from internal evidence as to the
passage now before us, whether the persons addressed
are the Apostles, or the disciples properly so called,
ox the more promiscuous assembly of the people, gathered
from all parts, who were present on the occasion, and
to whom we have supposed the teaching w^hich imme-
diately precedes these words to have been directed.
T 80 Blmd Guides and Careless Hearers.
In the Sermon on the Mount, the words about the
mote and the beam, which are here repeated, are
addressed to all the audience, and do not seem to be
limited to the Apostles, who were not as yet distin-
guished so definitely from the common mass of the
disciples. It seems, therefore, natural to think that
here also the same words are addressed to the whole
audience, and not, like the blessings and woes, to a
portion only of those who were present.
Again, in the earlier discourse the words about the
not gathering grapes from thorns or figs from thistles,
which here are repeated, through not quite exactly,
follow on the exhortation to beware of false prophets,
and the words about the trees and the fruits seem to
belong to the same context, and to be uttered with the
same purpose. But there is nothing in the present
passage which speaks directly of the false prophets,
against whom the people are to be on their guard, and
whom they are to know by their fruits, unless it be
supposed that the words which introduce the whole
series of precepts, and in which our Lord speaks, for
the first time, as far as we know, of the blind leading the
blind, are meant to take the place of the former direct
warning against the wolves in the clothing of sheep.
If that be so, we may then find reason to follow those
commentators on this passage who see in the first part
of it a tacit warning against the enemies who were now
endeavouring to turn away the disciples of our Lord
from His teaching, by false representations concerning
Him and His doctrine, while the latter part of the
passage, in which the image of the two foundations is
repeated, may be supposed to apply more generally to
the audience themselves.
The chief difficulty about this interpretation, as far as
regards the first part of the passage, which is thus
Blind Guides and Careless Hearers. 1 8 1
applied to the Scribes and Pharisees, is, that in the
earlier Sermon the warning about the mote and the
beam is addressed to all in general, whereas here it
would seem to be made particular to the blind guides
only. But it may be most safely concluded that the
lynxeyed vigilance of the enemies of our Lord in detect-
ing what they considered to be defects in His teaching
or in His life, was the result in them of a want of
attention to their own faults and to the needs of their
own souls generally. There is nothing more certain in
the spiritual life, than that inattention to our own faults
goes hand in hand with attention to the faults of others,
and that those who do not watch over their own con-
sciences are the most vigilant critics of the consciences
of others. Thus the warning here would be a parti-
cular application of a general danger, an application
which not all might at once perceive, but which would
be discerned by some, and thus would correspond to
the general character of that kind of teaching which
our Lord delivered by way of parables or similitudes.
This is the more probable as the interpretation of the
passage, because the image of the blind leading the
blind seems to be usually employed by our Lord in
reference to the Pharisees and their influence on the
people. Indeed, the image seems to belong to them
alone, in our Lord's mouth. It occurs first after this
occasion a little later on in the history, where our
Lord had been told by the disciples that the Pharisees
were scandalized by His teaching as to what truly
defiled a man, and He answered, 'Let them alone,
they are blind and leaders of the blind.' ^ The same
image occurs more than once in our Lord's great
denunciation of the Pharisees which is recorded for
us by St. Matthew in the twenty-third chapter of his
1 St. Matt. XV. 14.
1 82 Blind Gttides and Careless Heare7^s.
Gospel, where he says, ^ Wo to you, blind guides ! '
and again, ' Blind guides ! who strain out a gnat and
swallow a camel.' And the same epithet of blindness
is used of them in other parts of the same discourse
also. Indeed this blindness of His chief enemies is
perhaps the one point of all in their condition on which
our Lord most frequently dwells, as He said after the
miracle on the man born blind, 'For judgment I am
come into this world, that they who see not may see,
and that they who see may become blind.' ^ And it
is remarkable that St. Paul, in the passage to the
Romans which has already been referred to as illus-
trating this chapter, uses this same image, as if he had
had the words of our Lord in his mind, for he addresses
the Jew who was so ready to judge others in the words,
* If thou art called a Jew, and restest in the Law, and
makest thy boast of God, and knowest His will, and
approvest the more profitable things, being instructed
in the Law, art confident that thou thyself art a guide
of the blind and a light of them that sit in darkness, an
instructor of the foolish, a teacher of the ignorant,
having the form of knowledge and of fruit in the Law —
thou therefore that teachest another, teachest not thy-
self!'^ and the rest. St. Paul seems to draw out, as if
they were very familiar indeed to him, the subjects
of self-congratulation of the learned teachers of the Law,
who despised the poor Gentiles, and he dwells on them,
one after the other, in the true manner of a rhetorician.
But there is hardly an idea in what he says which is
not contained, in its germ, in the simple expression
of our Lord here, where He calls them the blind leaders
of the blind.
There seems, therefore, to be considerable reason for
thinking, with the commentators already referred to,
2 St. John ix. 39. 3 Romans ii. 17.
Blmd Guides and Careless Hearers. 183
that the words on Avhich we are now engaged contain
a tacit reference to the teachers of the Law, who were
now ranging themselves so decidedly against the new
Kingdom of God. At the same time, it is very remark-
able that our Lord takes great pains, as it appears,
to veil this reference from the eyes of the multitude,
and also to cast His denunciation, so to call it, into
such a shape as to make it apply generally, as well as
to the Scribes and Pharisees. For, true as it seems
to be, that their blindness to the lamentable state of
their own souls was the original cause and root first
of their rejection of Him, and afterwards of their
persecution and murder of Him, because, but for that
bHndness they might have joined the multitude who
accepted the teaching of penance and the Baptism of
St. John — and again, that this blindness led them to be
so keenly on the look out for the defects of others
in general — still this doctrine is universal and applicable
to all alike, to the people as well as to their blind
leaders, and even to the Apostles themselves, the masters
and teachers in the school which our Lord Himself
founded. And we see afterwards, that the actual fall
of Judas was at last consummated by an exercise on
his part of a hard criticism on the devout and magni-
ficent action of Magdalene in her second anointing of
our Lord. Thus we may consider that, in this part
of the Sermon on the Plain, we have at once a warning
against the false teachers, a warning, also, for all who
might ever be teachers in the Church, and an instruction
to the audience in general which w^as not to be neglected
even by those most far advanced in spirituality. For it
is not easy to think that, if these words of our Lord were
meant simply to reflect on the miserable condition of
the teachers who were now opposing themselves to Him,
they would have been preserved to us to remain in
! 84 Blind Gtddes and Ca7^eless Hearers.
the Church for all time, long after these teachers are
passed away. They must have been meant even for
the Apostles, for the crowd of the disciples, and for all
the hearers in general. And the parabolic form of
teaching seem to have been adopted, in this instance
also, for the very reason that it would admit of so wide
an application of the words.
'■ And He spoke also to them a similitude : Can the
blind lead the blind ? Do they not both fall into the
ditch ? The disciple is not above his master, but every
one shall be perfect, if he shall be as his master.' This
is a general truth in all moral as well as in intellectual
matters, that a man can only give what he has himself,
he can only teach what he knows, he can only form
others on the lines, so to say, on which he himself is
formed. But it is much more true in moral matters,
and above all, in spiritual matters, than in any other.
For these require the assistance of Divine grace to
secure the safe and efficient conveyance, to the mind
and soul of the disciple, of the truths and principles
which the master has to teach. God may sometimes
use the teaching of those who do not live up to it, for
the good of others, but His grace cannot be reckoned
on in such cases. And again, there is always an
unreality about teaching which is not the reflection
of the life of the teacher, and this is felt instinctively
by the disciple. Thus neither does the teacher teach
with any spirit and earnestness what he does not himself
practise, nor does the disciple take in, with docility
and confidence, the doctrines and rules which are not
practically efficient on the life and heart of his master.
The highest thing that can be hoped for in all such
cases is that the disciple should attain to the same
proficiency and perfection as his master. In the case
in which the master is the simple organ of the system
Blind Guides and Careless Hearers, 185
of instruction in which he is set to teach, he can hand
on, traditionally and mechanically, the truths and princi-
ples which are confided to him, as a book can convey
to the mind of the reader the thoughts of its author.
In this way the Scribes and Pharisees themselves were
able to teach rightly, as our Lord said afterwards to the
people concerning them, that as they sat in the chair
of Moses, it was right to observe and do all that they
commanded them, but they were not to do after their
works, for they said and did not.* In such matters
as those of which He spoke, these men were like sign-
posts to show the way, which they did not follow along
themselves.
This then is the first principle which our Lord here
lays down as a general truth, having in His mind, no
doubt, the false teaching of which there was so much
danger in the case of the multitudes to whom He was
speaking, while at the same time the maxim which He
uttered was to be valuable in the Church to all time.
For whenever spirituality and morality die out in a com-
munity or in a Christian population, the root of the evil
is to be traced to the defects of various kinds, which are
to be found in the religious teachers of that community
or population. It is not always the case that the most
perfect of teachers can raise those whom they teach to
their own high level, but it is ordinarily and generally the
case that imperfect teachers cannot raise any of their
disciples above their own level. To our Lord, as we
know, the people among whom He went about teaching
were as sheep without shepherds. This is the description
given by St. Matthew, who so seldom inserts any reflec-
tion of his own into his history. Before he relates the
choosing and the sending forth of the Apostles, he says,
^And seeing the multitudes, He had compassion on
4 St. Matt, xxiii. 2, 3.
1 86 Blind Guides and Cai^eless Hearej^s.
them, because they were distressed and lying Hke sheep
that have no shepherd.'^ He knew the needs of their
souls, and that they had no one among their ordinary
teachers to supply those needs. But those needs could
never be supplied under any circumstances, unless they
were furnished with a class of teachers who would be,
in the first instance, living embodiments of the teaching
committed to them for the benefit of others. Thus the
maxim which is, in the first instance, a reflection on the
incapacity of the Pharisees to lead the people aright,
becomes a note of warning to all Christian teachers in
the Church of God. They must practise what they
teach, and live up to what they preach, otherwise they
will run the risk of being themselves blind leaders of the
blind. Thus we find it recorded, as a special praise, of
several of the saints of God, that they never taught to
anyone a practice or rule which they had not first put in
execution themselves. It need not be pointed out to
what a height of perfection this habit must raise their
teaching, nor, on the other hand, how arduous becomes
the office of teacher when this perfection is laid down as
an essential requisite in anyone who is to hold that
ofiice with hope of success. It is in truth this defect that
paralyses so much learning and intellectual pre-eminence
in the case of many Christian teachers, and makes so
many men of great capacity so entirely unfruitful in their
labours for souls.
'And why seest thou the mote in thy brother's eye,
but the beam that is in thy own eye thou considerest
not ? Or how canst thou say to thy brother, Brother, let
me pull the mote out of thy eye, when thou thyself seest
not the beam in thy own 'eye ? Hypocrite ! cast first the
beam out of thy own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly
to take out the mote from thy brother's eye.' The words
5 St. Matt. ix. 36.
Blind Guides and Careless Hearers. 187
here are altogether general, and as has been said, they
occur in the Sermon on the Mount, where they do not
appear to be directed to any special class of the hearers.
They touch, indeed, on a tendency from which no class
of Christians is altogether free, the tendency to be very
sharpsighted in regard of the defects of others. We are
all continually inclined to remark on the faults of our
neighbours, and at the same time to be blind to our own
greater defects. But if we consider the whole of this
context together, it will seem most probable that our
Lord had here also in His mind the teachers of whom
He was speaking in the words which immediately precede.
It seems as if it was meant that we should understand
that there was in them another defect, still more mis-
chievous than that of which mention had just been
made, that is, the defect of an inferior degree of spiritual
perfection, which prevented them from raising their
disciples to any high level in spirituality. They were not
only blind, but they were also too sharpsighted at the
same time. They were blind to the high ranges of
perfection to which they ought to have led the people,
and at the same time they were sharpsighted to faults in
others, while they paid no attention to their own greater
failings. This was something more than to be simply
ignorant of much which it would have been for the
common good that they should have known.
If we look through the passages in the Gospel history
in which the character of the Scribes and Pharisees is
drawn by our blessed Lord, we shall find that the fault
of which there is mention in the passage before us is
certainly one of the most prominent, if not the one most
prominent, of all that are there attributed to them. They
are the persons who find fault with our Lord for one line
of conduct in dealing with men, and with St. John
Baptist for another. They are the persons who cannot
1 88 Blind Gtddes and Ca^^eless Hearers.
bear the laxity of the Master Who allowed His disciples
to pluck and rub in their hands the ears of corn on the
Sabbath day, and who objected to Him even because
He wrought on that day some marvellous miracles of
mercy. They are the critics who find fault with the
disciples for eating with unwashed hands, and with our
Lord for allowing the innocent praises of the children
crying in the Temple. They insisted on the payment of
tithes of the smallest herbs, mint, and anise, and cummin,
while they neglected the weightier things of the Law,
judgment and mercy and faith. They were always
ready with their remarks on the slightest infraction of the
ceremonial law, and yet our Lord testifies of them that
they were full of the blackest impurity in their own
hearts. 'You are like to whited sepulchres, which
outwardly appear to men beautiful, but within are full
of dead men's bones, and of all filthiness. So you also
outwardly indeed appear unto men just, but inwardly
you are full of hypocrisy and iniquity.'*^
Such were the men with whom our Lord had to deal,
as the appointed teachers and leaders of the people to
which He was especially sent, and whose great power
and influence was being more and more energetically
exerted against Him as time went on. We can wonder
but little that He spoke against them, although at
present it was in the guarded and covered way of which
this passage is an instance. For the words in which the
reproof was conveyed are such as apply generally to all
teachers, and indeed to others \\\\o are not teachers, but
who assume, in whatever manner and with whatever right
or semblance of right, the office of correcting the faults
of others. And our Lord does not simply reproach
those of whom He is speaking. He points out the
solid reason why they cannot hope for any success in
St. Matt, xxiii.
Blind Gttides and Careless Hearers. 189
the work of the correction of others which they under-
take.
*For there is no good tree that bringeth forth evil
fruit, nor an evil tree that bringeth forth good fruit. For
every tree is known by its fruit. For men do not gather
figs from thorns, nor from a bramble do they gather the
grape. A good man out of the good treasure of his
heart bringeth forth that which is good, and an evil man
out of the evil treasure bringeth forth that which is evil.
For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth
speaketh.' This is the great reason why no success
can be hoped for from the efforts of those who have
beams in tlieir own eyes, to deliver their neighbours from
the motes which they discern in theirs. Not only can no
man teach what he does not know, or impart what he
does not possess, but he cannot help reflecting himself in
what he says and teaches, and if his heart is evil he must
teach evil, and if his heart is good he must teach and
impart good. The first part of this passage has already
been explained in the commentary on the Sermon on the
Mount, and the second part is repeated, soon after this
time, by our Lord in a more direct address to the Scribes
and Pharisees personally, on occasion of their calumnious
charge against Him of being in league with Beelzebub in
His casting out of the devils. 'O generation of vipers!'
— words. first applied to them by St. John Baptist — 'how
can you speak good things, being evil ? for out of the
abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh. A good
man out of the good treasure bringeth forth good things,
and an evil man out of an evil treasure bringeth forth
evil things. But I say unto you, that every idle word
that men shall speak, they shall render an account for it
in the Day of Judgment. For by thy words thou shalt
be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned.'"''
"^ St. Matt. xii. 34 — 37.
1 90 Blind Guides and Careless Hearei^s,
This strong lauguage of denunciation is reserved by
our Lord for the occasion just now mentioned. In the
present passage He simply lays down the truth in general
words, such as will serve the purpose of warning the
people against the teachers whose lives were so unsound,
and at the same time of setting forth the general truth,
which was to be of service throughout all time, not only
for the detection of false teachers, but for the guidance
of all Christians, whether teachers or not. The truth is
one on which many long meditations may be made with
profit. The heart itself, as has often been said, is hidden
to all eyes except the eyes of God, and this is so or-
dained in mercy, not only to each individual soul, but to
mankind as a societ}^, for it would be impossible for us
to trust one another and to live together in peace and
happiness, if all hidden thoughts were revealed to all.
The heart is never at rest nor inactive. It is always at
work, even in sleep it works on, mechanically as it were,
and for this reason even our dreams reflect in so large a
measure our moral disposition and character, though, by
the mercy of God, we are not responsible at such times
when the dominion of reason is suspended. But the
heart is always turning over images, ideas, memories,
plans, schemes, day dreams as they are called, always
speculating, wishing, imagining, resenting, desiring, brood-
ing, keeping up a continual conversation with itself, the
moral character of which is that of the soul in which
this perpetual activity is going on. The thoughts of any
single heart are as multitudinous as the grains of sand
on the seashore — idle, empty, frivolous, selfish, foul,
sensual, proud, vain, envious, malignant, reflecting every
hue of folly and worldliness, echoing every strain or
whisper of malignity and passion. Or, when by the
mercy of God, grace reigns in the heart which is truly
occupied with the love of Him and the contemplation of
Blind Guides and Careless Hearers. 191
His ways and doings, there is no garden in the world so
fair in its flowers and its fruits, no mine of diamond or
rubies or veins of richest ore, so full of wealth as may be
the heart of man. Heaven is not too high for it, even
the glories on which the Angels gaze with unveiled faces
are not altogether hidden from it, it can range over all
space and all time, and it can form conceptions and
imaginations and aspirations and affections, which are
worthy to be laid bare before the throne of its One true
Love and Light. Well may the heart of man be called
a store or treasure ! For it is always accumulating and
adding to the abundance within it, and when it has
occasion to pour forth its contents there seems to be no
end to its prolific fertility. St. James speaks of the
tongue as a Uttle member that boasteth proud things.
* Behold, how small a fire what great wood it kindleth ! '^
But if the tongue is so small in comparison to the mis-
chief that it can give birth to, much more may the same
thing be said of the heart, from which all the evil of the
tongue originally proceeds.
The truth on which our Blessed Lord here insists is
not so much that of the immense stores, for good or for
evil, which are laid up in the heart of every man, as the
other cognate truth, that the heart is always unconsciously
betraying itself in all that proceeds from the mouth and
indeed in all the actions of men. We may sometimes
use our words, or our line of conduct, so as to veil rather
than to disclose what is in our hearts, and in this sense
it is of course true that there may be some exceptions to
the general rule, that out of the abundance of the heart
the mouth speaketh. But these cases are exceptional,
and even they are not altogether exceptional, because
when the mouth utters a whole tribe of lies for the
purpose of deceiving others as to the real sentiments of
8 St, James iii. 5.
192 Blind Guides and Careless Hearers.
the heart, it discloses to the eye of God, Who can read
the heart, all the duplicity and mendacity that is there.
The mouth speaks out of the abundance of the heart,
although the words which it utters misrepresent the true
sentiments and intentions of the heart But the meaning
of the present passage seems to be that a man's words
and teaching can only reflect what is within him, and
that therefore a good man, whether he means it or
not, cannot but reveal the goodness that is in him, while
on the other hand, an evil man must betray the evil of
his heart by his words. But the removing of the defects
of others is the main subject of thought here, for these
words are but a continuation of the former sentence
about the motes and the beams, and give the reason why
a man with a beam in his eye, so to say, cannot be
tr.isted to remove the mote out of the eye of another,
and the reason is that he has not in him the power of
conveying good to the souls of others, because his own
heart is full of evil. His heart is like a cistern in which
there is nothing but dirty water, and therefore he cannot
cleanse anything therewith. He can only make that
which he attempts to cleanse, as foul as are the contents
of his own heart. If this is true in ordinary matters, it
is much more true in matters of the soul, because the
cleansing of the soul, which is what is sought for in the
removal of any defect in another person, cannot be
brought about except by the working of the grace of
God, and this will never be granted when the person
with whose efforts it is to co-operate is so unworthy.
In the passage lately quoted, of which we shall have to
speak in another chapter of this volume, our Lord says
to the Scribes : ' How can you speak good things,
whereas you are evil?' And in the passage on which we
are now commenting it is as if He said, ' How can you
do good to others, whereas you are evil ? '
Blind Guides and Careless Hearers. 193
At the same time, as has been already said more than
once, the words are so general that they are an instruction
to all. Perhaps they may have been meant in some
measure for a special warning to the Apostles themselves,
so lately called to the high office of teaching in our
Lord's Name, and thus supplanting in the new Kingdom
the persons to whom the words more directly applied.
And it must be remembered that the Apostles, or most
of them, had already heard the very similar teaching
delivered in the Sermon on the Mount, and would
therefore be ready to understand the words in a sense,
and with the same application with that which they had
borne there. The same may be said of the words
which immediately follow, which are an echo of a
much longer passage in that former sermon. Then
He had said that there would be many who would say
to Him in the last great day, calling Him Lord, Lord,
that they had prophesied in His Name and cast out
devils, and done many wonderful works, and that yet
He would profess to them that He never knew them, and
bid them depart from Him, for they were workers of
iniquity. Here he says, *Why call you Me, Lord, Lord ?
and do not the things which I say? Every one that
Cometh to Me and heareth My words and doeth them, I
will show you to whom he is like. He is like a man
building a house, who digged deep and laid the founda-
tion upon a rock, and when a flood came the stream
beat vehemently upon that house, and it could not shake
it, for it was founded on a rock. But he that heareth
and doeth not, is like a man building his house upon the
earth without a foundation, against which the stream
beat vehemently, and immediately it fell, and the ruin of
that house was great.'
The comparison between the two passages in question
— for it need hardly be said that the image of the two
N 36
194 Blind Guides and Careless Hearers.
foundations is taken from the former Sermon, as well as
the words about calling Him Lord, Lord — shows us that
our Lord must have wished to generalize the teaching in
the first part of the passage here, so as to make it
applicable, not only to those who have taught in His
Name in the new Kingdom, but also to all who have
come within the range of the teaching of that Kingdom.
He was soon about to insist very much on the immense
difference between the various classes of hearers of the
Word of God, and on the terrible danger of those who
had heard it carelessly. He seems to have changed the
first part of the passage from the form in which it stood
in the Sermon on the Mount, for the sake of making it
thus more widely instructive. It is no longer those only
who have taught in His Name that are warned, but all
those who in any way call upon Him as their Lord and
Master. By the use of such expressions they testified,
against themselves, to their acceptance of Him as a
divinely ordained Teacher. They were therefore bound
by their own profession to listen to Him, and not only
to hear what He said, but to practise what He taught.
He already discerned the inevitable failure of His teach-
ing in numberless cases, on account of this want of
correspondence between knowledge and profession on
the one hand, and practice on the other.
The words which follow signify that the time was near
at hand when there would be a great trial of the hearts of
those who had crowded to hear Him and to see Him
work His miracles. The trial of persecution had already,
indeed, begun, and it was not to pass away. It was to
increase more and more in violence, until it led to His
murder and to the scattering of His disciples far and
wide, and though there was to be a temporary respite
after His Resurrection, and many seasons of comparative
peace and tranquillity to the Church afterwards, still her
Blind Guides and Careless Hearers. 195
history was to be in the main a repetition of His own,
and she was never to be left without the wholesome
discipHne of the enmity of the world. His teaching was
to find so much hostile to it in the degenerate hearts of
men, that it would be most true that no one could be a
disciple in His school without having to undergo a
severe trial in his own interior, on his onward march
towards the crown of his vocation. And the very same'
fact of the degeneracy of the human heart, was to cause
the continual hatred of the world for His doctrine and
His Church, and thus it was inevitable that to each
man's interior struggles, pressure and persecution from
without on the whole body of the Church would be
added. The world is but the organized embodiment
of the evil and the falsehood which are within us.
The spiritual edifice of each Christian soul was therefore
to be exposed to the storms of passion and temptation,
often more violent than the sudden torrents of water
which sweep down on a house in a country liable to
storms and rains, and it must therefore be, in a true
sense, a house of which the foundation is built upon
a rock. What then was to be the rock on which this
foundation was to be raised ? It was to be a faithful,
obedient, diligent practice of the precepts which He
had delivered. Nothing but this could strengthen the
soul against its assailants — nothing but this could secure
it the assistance of Divine grace in any encounters to
which it might come to be exposed.
CHAPTER X.
TJie Centui'ion s Servant.
St. Matt. vii. 5—13 ; St. Luke vii. i — 10 ; Vita Vitce Nostrce, § 50.
We now come to some incidents of this second year of
our Lord's preaching as to the date of which we have
no precise guidance. It has already been said that the
Sermon on the Plain was probably delivered early in
the summer, after the Pasch at which our Lord healed
the impotent man at the Pool of Bethsaida in Jerusalem.
Close on this Pasch followed the return of our Lord to
Galilee, and the league formed against Him by the
ecclesiastical rulers with the political servants of the
Tetrarch. It was a coalition of very incongruous
elements, but it was clearly as much to the interest of
Herod to suppress any movement by which the peace
of the country might be endangered, as it was to the
interest of the priests at Jerusalem to oppose the
influence of One Who was certainly not of themselves.
We have seen that our Lord retired before the coalition,
and that He made at this time the selection of the
twelve to be His Apostles. The Sermon on the Plain
then followed. And it is not a fanciful conjecture to
place these two signal events about the time of the
feast of Pentecost after the second Pasch. The next
great event in the preaching of our Lord was the return
to Capharnaum, after which He began to teach the
people by parables only — a change in His method which
attracted the wonder and caused the inquiries of the
i
The Centurion's Servant, 197
•disciples themselves. This beginning of the teaching
by parables is very probably to be placed about the
time of the seed-sowing for the harvest of the next year,
that is, in the later months of the year to which the
events already mentioned belonged. This date is made
probable by the subject of the first and succeeding
parables. It was so very much our Lord's habit to take
the text, so to say, of His teaching from the natural
objects and scenes around Him at the time, that we can
hardly doubt that He chose the imagery of this first
series of parables in this manner, and that the fields were
actually being sown at the time at which He spoke.
If this be so, and if the Sermon on the Plain be
rightly placed about the feast of Pentecost, it would
follow that an interval of several months occurred,
immediately after the delivery of that Sermon, and
before the beginning of the parables. During this
interval we have little to guide us as to the exact dates
of the few incidents which are recorded, though we may
fairly trust the order in which they are arranged by the
most historical of the Evangelists, St. Luke.
There is nothing in this that ought to be surprising
to those who are, to some extent, familiar with the
manner in which our Lord spent so much of His time
during His Public Life. We already know that He
passed large portions of the most active part of His
career in Galilee, and afterwards in Judaea, in missionary
circuits throughout the country, the events and occu-
pations of which were very much the same day after
day, except that He was constantly changing the scene
of His labours. Periods of activity of this kind are in
one sense most full of incidents of importance, for
nothing can be more important in the history of the
Kingdom of God than the conversion of souls, and
these periods were in this respect most fruitful. But
198 The Centu7'io7i' s Servant.
in another sense they are marked by a great sameness,
and the history which serves for one week or month
would be almost equally suited to another. Thus it is
not the custom of the Evangelists to speak of these
circuits except in the most summary manner.
But it would often happen that the sameness of these
periods would be broken by some remarkably striking
incidents of mercy or power, and it is natural that such
incidents should not be passed over in the sacred history.
They would be exceptional features in the general
picture, for which, as such, a few words would suffice.
Such are the few incidents which, as is clear from the
order of St. Luke, belong to this period, that is, between
the Sermon on the Plain and the deHvery of the first
great series of the Parables of our Lord. The miracle
of which wefare now to speak was in some important
respects singular and unprecedented in the Ministry of
our Lord, and it was made by Him the occasion of a
warning to some of those who were hanging back in
their adhesion to Him, of which the Evangelists had
afterwards many reasons for seeing the significance. We
know that, even during the circuits of the first year of
His Galilean preaching, our Blessed Lord was for long
seasons together absent from Capharnaum, the place
which, nevertheless, had gained the name of being His
own city. Much more was He likely to absent Himself
from it for long intervals during this the second year of
His preaching. But He would often have occasion to
visit it from time to time. One of these visits was made,
as St. Luke tells us, at the conclusion of one of the
circuits of which we are speaking, and which is hinted
at rather than directly mentioned in the narrative of the
Evangelists. St. Luke says, ' And when He had finished
all His words in the hearing of the people. He entered
into Capharnaum.' Here it was that the occasion of
I
The Centurion s SeruanL 199
the miracle was awaiting Him. ' And the servant of a
certain Centurion, who was dear to him, being sick, was
ready to die, and, when he heard of Jesus, he sent to
Him the ancients of the Jews, desiring Him to come
and heal his servant. And when they came to Him, they
besought Him earnestly, saying to Him, He is worthy
that thou shouldst do this thing for him, for he loveth
our nation, and he hath built us a synagogue,' or rather,
our synagogue.
The description of the Centurion and his servant, with
the elders of the Jews interceding with our Lord for
them, gives us a picture of what was perhaps not
uncommon in the mixed society of those times. In
Galilee the Gentiles were much in the minority, while
in other parts, outside the precincts of the Holy Land,
the Jews would themselves be a small cluster of families
in the midst of a heathen population. The Providence
of God had been bringing about this intermixture of
Jews and Gentiles for many generations, as if to prepare
the way, both for the conversion of the heathen, and for
the abolition of the distinction between the two in the
Christian Church. Up to the time of the Captivity, the
Jews had been kept very strictly separate from all other
nations, although, after the establishment of the kingdom
of David and Solomon, they had had more intercourse
than before with neighbouring nations. But the Captivity
itself had acted, in some degree, as a leavening the
Eastern nations by a Jewish influence, not the less strong
morally because the Jews were weak. And under the
Grecian Empire, which broke down the barrier between
the Asiatic and European populations, the Jew had been
-scattered in large numbers over the whole civilized
world. The Roman Empire contained, we may
suppose, many good men in the position of this
Centurion, men who had been mixed up by circum-
200 The Ce7iturioii^ s Servant.
stances with Jews in Palestine, or with Jewish settlers in
foreign parts, and who had been attracted by the
superior purity of their creed or their moral law, by
the beauty and reasonableness of their doctrine, and
led on to serve the true God in works of charity and
piety. Some of these might have become proselytes in
a more formal manner, while others remained at the
door, as it were, of the Tabernacle. We gather from the
Acts of the Apostles that the attendance in the syna-
gogue was not confined to Jews strictly so called. This
Centurion evidently lived in intimate acquaintanceship
with the chief Jews of Capharnaum. We gather also
from the account of St. Luke that not all the Jewish
authorities at this time were in league against our Lord.
It is probable that the leaders of the opposition to Him
came from Jerusalem, emissaries of the Scribes and
Pharisees there. These men had known comparatively
little of our Lord, of the marvellous works He wrought
or the doctrines which He preached. They were simply
the instruments of the blind malice and jealousy of their
chiefs. On the other hand, there would be many among
those who had known Him and heard Him, who could
not take so strong a part against Him as these repre-
sentatives of the centra] authority would wish. They
may not have been numerous or powerful enough to
turn the tide, which was now setting so violently in the
direction of hostility to Him, but in their own personal
feelings they may still have been on His side. Such
must have been Jairus, the ruler of the synagogue at
Capharnaum, such the nobleman whose son had been
healed by our Lord more than a year before, and many
of the wealthy publicans who had sat with Him at the
feast given by St. Matthew.
It is not surprising that the Centurion and his friends
should have thought that it might require a special force
The Centurion s Servant. 201
of entreaty and intercession, to induce our Blessed Lord
to enter the house and listen to the prayer of this good
heathen. Up to this time He had done nothing to
intimate directly that He regarded the Gentiles as
objects of His mission, nor had He said much about
the extension of the privileges of the Kingdom of God
beyond the range of the chosen people. Wherever there
are privileges in the way of religion and the means of
grace, there it is quite certain that there will be some
narrow prejudices against the indefinite opening of those
privileges to every one, and a tendency to pride in their
possession. The words of the Jewish elders seem to
imply a sort of compassion on their part for the com-
parative misery of the condition of the Centurion. He
might be unworthy, their words imply, of the notice of
our Lord, but still he loved the holy nation and he had
moreover built for them the synagogue in which God
was worshipped, and the Sacred Scriptures read and the
holy Law taught, in Capharnaum itself.
It was a great thing for a Roman to overcome his
national pride, and lay aside his allegiance to the official
religion, which had, as it was thought, done so much
towards the establishment of the world-wide Empire of
the great city of the Tiber. It was a great thing that
he had had simplicity and humility enough to recognize
the superiority of the Jewish morality, and of the worship
of the One God. Deep in the hearts and conscience of
the good heathen lay the germs of natural religion, of
which, in truth, the revelation possessed by the Jews was
the Divine superstructure, requiring that other as its own
foundation. Where natural religion had not been over-
laid and corrupted and obscured by the bad traditions of
the false polytheism and low morality which prevailed,
even among the most cultivated nations of the Pagan
world, there were the instincts of which revelation was
202 The Centurion s Servant,
the natural satisfaction. Thus the good heathen could
not be true to his own best thoughts and the teachings
of his conscience, without being prepared for Divine
Revelation, and, when he came across it, it was to be
seen whether he could overcome the traditional repug-
nance of his own proud and conquering nation. The
case is exactly repeated in the case of the good Christian
who has been brought up outside the Catholic Church,
and who has been taught concerning her a number of
those malignant falsehoods, of which the greater part of
anti-Catholic controversy is made up. He is strongly
drawn by the beauty and authority and unity of the
Church, but can he overcome his prejudices? or will he
turn away like Naaman, indignant at what he conceives
to be a humiliating doctrine for his own nation ? This
is an issue which, in our own times and country, has to
be settled, day after day, in a score of instances.
The Centurion had long ago laid aside his prejudice
against the Jews and their religion. He had come to
love them for the sake of their creed, which promised
so much to the yearnings after truth of which he had
long been conscious, and he had contributed to the
worship and honour of the God of Israel in a way which
is seldom left without its reward, even when the churches
and sacred edifices, which are raised by a mistaken
devotion, are handed over to the imperfect worship of
a schismatical community. But God had given him
greater gifts than the simple recognition- of the truth
of Judaism. We may gather from his care of his servant
that he was a good and affectionate master, and we
certainly learn from his own words that he was a
thoughtful ponderer of the ways of God, and had arrived
at a very high notion of the dignity of our Lord's Person.
It is hard to think that he did not understand even the
Divine character of our Lord. His case is the exact
I
The Centurion s Servant,
counterpart of that of the man who was probably his
friend, the nobleman who had met our Lord at Cana
the year before, and begged Him to come down and
heal his son at Capharnaum. The heart of the Centurion
had treasured that incident, and now he was to show
the fruit which it had produced in his own thoughts
concerning our Lord. Unreflecting men are always
inclined to Umit the goodness, and even the power, of
God to that of which they have found evidence or
declaration, forgetting that whatever God does, or
declares concerning Himself, is but a partial manifes-
tation of His character and attributes, and that all
such manifestations are meant to hint at a great deal
more than they actually reveal. This dulness lies at
the foundation of the extreme reluctance which men
show as to admitting anything like a miracle beyond
what is written in Scripture, if even that — as if the power
which enacted the laws of nature could not go beyond
them, as if the very fact that God does so many wonderful
things ordinarily was a proof that He could do nothing
extraordinarily. Just as without the constant witness of
the ^vritten Law men forgot even some of the plainest
conclusions involved in the first principles of the natural
Law — as was especially the case with regard to all that
concerned purity — so many things which seem to
Catholics as evidently true, though not actually written
in Scripture, as with regard to the position, for example,
of our Blessed Lady and the Saints in the Kingdom of
Heaven, are challenged by Protestants as contrary to
the very spirit of revelation. It is to such cases that
St. Ignatius applies our Lord's words to His Apostles :
* Do not you yet know nor understand ? ' implying that
God means us to reason reverently on the principles and
truths and facts of faith and revelation and experience,
and that He does not make every natural conclusion
204 The Centurion's Servant.
therefrom a matter of special revelation. The Centurion
had simply reasoned from what was certain concerning
our Lord's power and mercy, and yet he had reached a
point in the faith which so many others had not attained.
St. Luke, as was natural with the Evangelist who
wrote especially for the Gentile Churches converted by
the preaching of St. Paul, seems to have drawn his
account of the incidents of this miracle, either from the
good Centurion himself, or from some of his friends.
His account is that of one who stands, as it were,
by the side of the Centurion in the whole scene.
St. Matthew, on the other hand, seems to stand by
our Lord. St. Luke tells us first how the master of
the servant who was at the point of death and in great
suffering, set a very high value on his services. ' He
was precious to him.' Then he tells us how he begged
his friends among the Jewish elders to go to our Lord,
Whose arrival in Capharnaum had just taken place, and
ask Him to come and heal the servant for whom he is
so anxious. ' Jesus,' as St. Matthew says, ' said, I will
come and heal him.' St. Luke only tells us that our
Lord went with the elders of the Jews. It would seem
that either His near approach was notified to the
Centurion, or that he conjectured that He was approach-
ing, for the thought of this extreme condescension filled
him with a holy fear. When our Lord had put off the
nobleman who had come about his son, the latter had
urged Him to come before his son died. He had no
hesitation as to putting Him to so much trouble. The
Centurion, on the other hand, when he heard that our
Lord was actually on the way, bethought himself at once
of his own unworthiness. But it was not simply the
thought of his own unworthiness that filled him and
dictated his message to our Lord — it was the conviction
in which the nobleman had at first been lacking, that
The Centurion^ s Serva7it. 205
it was quite as easy for our Lord to cure the poor patient
at a distance, as by coming Himself to his bedside.
Thus our Lord drew out from the nobleman, by His
seeming reluctance to grant his prayer, the more perfect
faith which the Centurion already possessed, and from
him our Lord drew by granting his petition in the
very terms in which it had been made, the profession of
this higher faith which He had not met with in Israel.
If our Lord had not at first checked the nobleman, he
would not have risen to the faith that He could heal at a
distance. If our Lord had not intimated His assent to
the request of the Centurion, He would not have given
him the occasion of the profession of this higher faith.
' Who was he,' the Centurion said to himself, * that this
great Prophet should come to his house — should tread
the floor of a Pagan dwelling, and enter a household the
greater part of the inmates of which were perhaps still
Pagans? Why should he trouble Him so far?' Had
jle not commanded the fever to leave the mother of
St. Peter's wife, as well as healed the son of his friend at
a distance of many miles ? He had himself been afraid
to go to our Lord on account of his nationality and
his other grounds for humility, and could he let Him
Himself come to carry out his prayer? He had still
by his side other friends, known perhaps to our Lord,
besides those who had charged themselves with the first
embassy ; and these he begged at once to go and meet
our Lord and stop Him on the way. ' Lord, trouble not
Thyself, for I am not worthy that Thou shouldst enter
under my roof. For which cause neither did I think
myself worthy to come unto Thee. But say the word,
. and my servant shall be healed.' He knew perfectly
well that it was not necessary that our Lord should
come. His conceptions concerning Him were that He
was the absolute master of disease and health, life and
2o6 The Centurion's Servant.
death. He himself knew what it was to command, to
obey and to be obeyed, and his ideas concerning our
Lord were that it was as natural and inevitable for
disease to obey Him, as for himself to obey his own
superior officer, or for his own soldiers or servants to
obey him. He speaks of himself as a man under
authority, for he was both under others and the superior
of others, and it was more modest of him to speak of
the position of subordination which he filled than of
that of superiority. But when he went on to illustrate
and give examples of his meaning, he naturally drew
them from his own practice. For our Lord, in the
healing of diseases, acted the part of a master
and superior. ' For I also am a man subject to
authority, having under me soldiers, and I say to
one. Go, and he goeth, and to another, Come, and
he Cometh, and to my servant. Do this, and he
doeth it.' It is nothing for the Lord of all to do with
diseases and health as poor mortals do in the small
sphere of their petty authority. A word from Thee can
send the malady away, as my word sends one of my
soldiers on an errand. A word from Thee can make
health approach and take possession of this wasted form,
as easily as a word from me can call a soldier to my
side. The powers of health and sickness, life and death,
wait upon Thee, as my servant waits upon me and
executes in a moment my behests. 'Speak the word only,
and my servant shall be healed.'
Such was the message, which in the second stage, so
to speak, of this beautiful incident, our Lord received
from this poor heathen. It is not, ' Come down at once
before my child die,' but ' Trouble not Thyself to come,'
for my servant's health can be secured by Thy simple
word. There is nothing here about the power of prayer,
as even Martha said to our Lord about Lazarus, that if
The Centurioji's Se^^vant, 207
He had been there, her brother would not have died,
and that even then she knew that whatsoever He would
ask of God, God would give it Him. Our Lord is not
asked to pray, but to act on His own power. And this
was, as far as we know, before He had manifested His
great power over Hfe and death by the raising of the
wido^v's son. The faith of the Centurion was perfectly
reasonable, and had the most solid foundation. It was
but the inevitable conclusion, as has been said, from
what he had heard, and perhaps seen, concerning our
Lord. It was the same kind of faith with that which
our Lord required in His disciples, when He upbraided
them for not understanding that they could not be in
danger in the storm on the lake as long as He was with
them, or which He required of St. Peter when He bade
him come unto Him on the waters. That is, the grounds
on which it rested were perfectly beyond all question.
What the Centurion was commended for was that he
drew la^\ful and natural conclusions from that which was
as obvious to others as well as to himself, though the
generality of men are so dull and hesitating in matters of
faith, that it is seldom that these conclusions are drawn
with the swiftness and certainty which belong to them.
His argument was simply this, that any authority worthy
of the name was as easily exercised, and as perfectly
obeyed, by a mere signification of the will of the superior
in power or rank, as by his own presence or by any
exertion on his part beyond such signification. It was
already proved by a hundred experiences that our Lord
was the Master of health, and that He could dismiss
disease at His will. How could it matter in what way
that will was exercised or signified? He would not
indeed be the absolute Master that He was, if His
personal presence was requisite for the carr}qng out of
His commands.
2o8 The Ce7itu7non's Se^^vant.
It shows the infinite compassion of our Lord for the
dulness of faith in the ordinary run of mankind, that He
saw something so special in this faith of the Centurion.
He was still on His way to the house when these second
messengers met Him with the words of the Centurion,
and He paused, and marvelled, and turning about to the
multitude that followed Him, He said, ' Amen I say to
you, I have not found so great faith, not even in Israel.*
Simple as this faith was, it surpassed any that He had
met with in the whole multitudes of people who had
been the objects of His miraculous bounties, or who
came to Him, as the Centurion, for the cure and welfare
of others dear to them. It had cost Him some trouble
to elicit from the nobleman, already mentioned, the act
of faith which He required for the performance of that
earlier miracle at a distance and by a simple word.
Nor in others of the chosen people had He found any
faith like this. For the Centurion not only accepted the
cure without seeing it, but he went so far as to suggest
to our Lord that He was taking unnecessary trouble in
coming to his house. It seems that the second set of
messengers immediately left our Lord and went back to
the house of the Centurion.
But the incident did not end here. Just as the
Centurion, after having sent in the first instance to beg
that our Lord would come to heal his servant, afterwards,
and in the course of a few moments, rose to the higher
level of faith, and sent off to stop Him on the road, so
now after having sent this second embassy, he rose still
higher, and seems to have reflected that it would be
more reverent and courteous to go himself and meet our
Lord, before He could cross his threshold. So on the heels
of these second messengers he came himself, and almost
before our Lord had had the time to make His remark
about the faith which He had not found in Israel, the
The Centuinon's Servant. 209
Centurion was himself at His feet with the same words
which he had sent by his messengers. ' Lord I am not
worthy that Thou shouldst enter under my roof, but only
say the word and my servant shall be healed. For I also
am a man under authority, having under me soldiers ;
and I say to this, Go, and he goeth, and to another,
Come, and he cometh, and to my servant. Do this, and
he doeth it.' There again then our Lord repeated His
gracious words of commendation, as if not to be out-
done, in the tender courtesy of His Sacred Heart, by the
reverent humility of the Centurion. 'Amen, I say to you,
I have not found so great faith in Israel.' For it was
characteristic of our Lord's exquisitely tender courtesy and
consideration, that He should praise the Centurion to His
face, after having already praised him to the people when
his messengers had delivered his message. And then He
added other words, very expressive indeed of the thoughts
which must have been frequently in His Heart at this stage
of His teaching, when He was beginning to turn away in
disappointment and sorrow from those to whom He had
been in the first instance sent, and who had received so
many wonderful marks of His mercy and love. This
Centurion at His feet was not only a tacit rebuke to the
duller faith of the chosen people, but he was a type and
foretaste of the thousands and thousands who were to
come to Him from among the Gentiles, and to receive
the favours of the spiritual Kingdom from which the heirs
of that Kingdom were to be excluded by their own fault.
Now for the first time did words significant of the
rejection of the chosen people cross the lips of our
Blessed Lord. The Apostles must have treasured them
up with thoughtfulness and even anxiety, and, at the
stage of their training at which they had now arrived,
this new truth was all important for them. ' And I say
unto you, that many shall come from the East and the
o 36
2IO The Cejtttirion' s Servant.
West, and shall sit down with Abraham and Isaac and
Jacob in the Kingdom of Heaven/
It might have been thought that our Lord would stop
here. The words which He had just uttered were a
reference to a great passage in the prophet Isaias, in
which the calling of the Gentiles to the privileges of the
Kingdom of God was clearly foretold. But in that
passage the prophet is commissioned to declare to the
chosen nation the good purpose of God, in exalting it by
the gathering in of other nations to the Kingdom, rather
than its own future humiliation, the chastisement
which its own incredulity would force Him to inflict,
in its own temporary exclusion. 'Fear not, for I am
with thee, I will bring thy seed from the East and gather
thee from the West. I will say to the North, give up,
and to the South keep not thou back, bring my sons from
far, and my daughters from the ends of the earth. And
every one that calleth on My Name, I have created him
for My glory, I have formed him and made him, bringing
forth the people that are blind and have eyes, that are
deaf and have ears. All the nations are assembled
together, and the tribes are gathered. Who among you
can declare this and shall make us hear the former
things ?'i Even if this prophecy is to be appHed, in the
first instance, to the return of the Jews from their cap-
tivity, its language seems to have suggested the words of
our Lord about the other quarters of the world. But
there is nothing in it concerning the rejection of the
chosen nation. This was not in the first purpose, so to
speak, of God, but it was the consequence of their own
perversity.
But now that our Lord was about to be Himself
rejected by the nation on which His favours had been
lavished so freely, the circumstance of the heathen
1 Isaias xliii. 5 — 9.
i
The Centurion^ s Servant. 211
Centurion at His feet was a picture to the Sacred Heart,
not only of the admission of the Gentiles to the Gospel
Kingdom, but of the working of that law of which we
have so many instances in the history of God's dealings
with His creatures, the law of substitution of some in the
place of others, who have forfeited their privileges. This
law has prevailed from the beginning, and it has not
only been followed in the Providence of God, but it has
also been continually dwelt upon by His chosen servants
in their contemplation of those dealings. It was followed
by the rejection of the rebel angels, and in the substitu-
tion of mankind in their place, and this is the subject on
which our Blessed Lady seems to dwell devoutly in her
Canticle the Magnificat. '■ He hath showed might in His
arm. He hath scattered the proud in the conceit of their
hearts; He hath put down the mighty from their seat,
and hath exalted the humble ; He hath filled the hungry
with good things, and the rich he hath sent empty away.'
There is the same substitution of Jacob for Esau, as the
heir of the promise, of David for Saul, as the King of
the chosen people. And these substitutions involved
immense issues, as by means of them the Jews came to
their great place in the counsels of God, and our Lord,
when incarnate, became the Son of David. The New
Testament is full of the substitution of the Gentiles for
the Jews. Our Lord brings in this principle more than
once into His great parables, the teaching of which is
that those who are first called are in many respects
heedless or unworthy, and that then the privileges which
they forfeit are almost forced upon others in their stead.
St. John Baptist hit this weak point in his own people,
when he warned them not to say that they had Abraham
for their father, because God was able of the very stones
to raise up children to Abraham.
If we consider the various instances which the
212 The Centurion s Servant.
history of creatures presents to us of this forfeiture of
high privileges, we find that the root of the evil is usually
either pride, or one of the faults which issue from pride.
It was pride in the rebel angels that made them rebel.
It was the profane contempt of his privileges which made
Esau sell his birthright, and this contempt came from
pride. Saul disobeyed, and his disobedience sprang
from the same root. On the other hand the character of
Jacob and of David is the character of humility, and we
see in this Centurion, and in the other Gentile on whom
our Lord showed special mercy, the Syrophoenician
woman, who, as it were, wrung from Him the healing of
her daughter, though, as He said. He was not sent but to
the lost sheep of the house of Israel, by an unusual grace
of faith founded on humility. This then is the true
secret for the right use and preservation of any external
graces, or birth in the CathoUc Church, of high vocation,
or of any special favour, such as God bestows on those
who live within the reach of great opportunities, or to
whom His Providence addresses any particular calls to
spiritual advancement. It is humility that has the power
to read and understand the advances which God makes
to us in His particular deaHngs with our souls, it is
humility that brings the unconscious and unwitting
heretic or schismatic to the door of the Church, while
men of learning, or ecclesiastical position, the leaders of
parties or movements outside the Church, are wooed in
vain by the same grace of conversion with which simpler
souls close at once. The history of these ' children of
the Kingdom,' of whom our Lord more directly spoke on
this occasion, is constantly repeated in the rejection of
noble vocations, in the deaf ear which is turned by so
many to the breathings of the Holy Ghost, inviting them
to the practice of the EvangeHcal Counsels, in the men
who can lead others to the perception of Catholic doc-
i
The Centurion's Servant, 213
trines, and up to the very threshold of the Church, and
yet themselves refuse to submit to the humiliation
involved in submission to her rule. They are, or they
might be, the children of the Kingdom, but they are not
humble, and so the grace passes away from them or
passes them by. They are cast out into the exterior
darkness. Outside the Church and the Kingdom of
God there is eternal gloom, ignorance, delusion, sorrow,
misery, within all is light and joy. But it is not only
gloom and darkness that are the lot of the rejected
children — there is also 'weeping and gnashing of teeth,'
both in the darkness outside the Church in this world,
and much more in the darkness which will be the home
of the enemies of God for all eternity. 'The remorse
which they felt for the graces they have forfeited is one
great source of their weeping, and beside the remorse of
their own conscience, there is the pain justly inflicted in
the decrees of God for so much unfaithfulness, and the
countless sins into which that unfaithfulness has led them.
Thus for the first time almost did our Lord open to
His hearers the future condemnation which was to fall
on those who had inherited so many privileges and had
not acted up to them. His heart passed far beyond the
immediate occasion of His words. It was no longer
the faith that could draw from His mercy the most
beautiful miracles, but the faith that was|to be rewarded
by the possession of the Eternal Kingdom of Heaven
that His mind dwelt on. It was no longer a single
suppHant for a temporal grace who knelt before Him,
for in Him our Lord saw the multitudes of the Gentile
Church taking possession of the inheritance which, in
the first instance, had been promised to the children of
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob according to the flesh. And
with the picture of happy simple credulity, as the world
would deem it, there came also the other of captious
214 The Centurion's Servant.
resistance to grace in the heirs of the Kingdom. The
refusal to accept the boon promised them, on the terms
on which alone it could be gained, and the terrible
punishment of their pride and disbelief which was figured
in the words about the exterior darkness, words which
they themselves might have been inclined to use of the
Gentile world outside themselves and the commonwealth
of Israel, but which were to have their most sad fulfil-
ment, both in this world and the next, in the miseries of
their own rejection.
It has been said that St. Luke's account of this
incident in the preaching of our Lord, is that of a
person who has heard it from the Centurion or his
friends, while* the account of St. Matthew is that of one
who was in our Lord's company from the beginning.
This remark is sufficient to explain the different manner
in which the story ended in the one case and in the
other. St. Luke accompanies, as it were, the friends of
the Centurion in their way back to the house from
which they had been sent with the touching message of
humility, ' Lord, I am not worthy,' and the rest. On
receiving that message, our Lord turned to the multitudes
which were following Him, and made His remark about
the great faith which had not been found even in Israel,
the people which inherited all the promises and prophe-
cies, as well as the privileges which had come down to
them from their fathers — the possession of the true faith,
the Law, the Temple, and its sacrifices, and the like.
These friends of the Centurion must have gone back to
the house while he himself was making his way to our
Lord, and if they did not meet him, the fact is easily to
be accounted for by supposing the distance to have been
very short, and the spot at which our Lord was to be
readily reached by more than one path or street. When
they returned to the house, St. Luke tells us, they found
k
The Ce7iturion^s Servant, 215
the servant whole who had been sick. The cure, there-
fore, had taken place while they were on their way.
St. Matthew, speaking of what passed between our Lord
and the master of the servant, tells us that Jesus said to
the Centurion, ' Go, and as thou hast believed, so be it
done unto thee.' He could not grant the request in any
more gracious way, or in any more tender words, than by
making the Centurion's own faith the measure, and as it
were the cause, of the granting of the boon which he
had asked, and then, at the moment when the words
were spoken, the cure took place, ' And the servant was
healed at the same hour.' To the nobleman our Lord
had said, * Go thy way, thy son liveth,' for the faith of
that poor father had not yet risen to the required height.
Faith came to him with our Lord's injunction to depart.
The faith of the Centurion had attained its full measure
when he sent his message to our Lord, and so our Lord
tells him it shall be ' as thou hast believed.'
The accounts end here abruptly, and nothing is said of
the Centurion hastening home, or of the other servants
coming in joy to greet him with the news. It may be
thought that if our Lord had visited the house, on His
way to which the master had sent Him, we should have
been told of it. But all these matters are left for the
Christian imagination to supply, the sacred writers con-
tenting themselves, in this as in all other such instances,
with the simple statement of the facts which were
essential for their narrative. Tradition tells of the
conversion of the Centurion to the faith in consequence
of this miracle, and he is said, after the Resurrection of
our Lord, to have become a Christian preacher. But as
far as the narrative of the Evangelist is concerned, we
part from him here, and the services he may have
rendered to the cause of our Lord will be revealed only
in the Kingdom of Heaven. Or rather, perhaps it may
2i6 The Cenhtrion's Servant.
be said, we do not part from him here. His words are ever
in the ears of the devout worshippers in Christian
churches, for they are taken up by the Church in her
Holy Mass, and are perpetually repeated, both by priests
and people, or at least in the name of the people, as by
priests in their own name, before the reception of the
highest privilege bestowed permanently on mankind, the
reception of the blessed Body and Blood of our Lord
in Holy Communion. Thousands and thousands of
times every day, all over the world, are the words
repeated, ' Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldst
enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul
shall be healed.' And those who repeat these words do
not utter them in the thought or expectation or desire
that our Lord will turn away from them, as if taking
them at their word, but simply because the words live on
in the Church as the best expression of that humility
which is so pleasing to God that to it He can deny
nothing. Whether our Lord entered under the roof of
the Centurion, we are nowhere told, but we know that it
would be ill for us if He did not enter really and truly
under the roof of our mouths and into our hearts and
bodies in His Sacramental Presence, there to confer on
us benefits and blessings far greater than even the
healing of bodily diseases.
It is not, as we know, often that the Holy Catholic
Church adopts words in this manner, and the words which
she most continually uses in her addresses to God, and
our Lord, or our Blessed Lady, are the words of angels,
or of great saints, or the words taught us by our Lord
Himself But this poor heathen Centurion has been
made, in a certain sense, the teacher of Christian
devotion to all times and generations, and we learn from
him that there is no more certain way of gaining a boon
from our Lord than the heartfelt profession of our utter
i
The Centurion s Servant, 217
unworthiness to receive it, and of His absolute power to
give us the substance of what we are in need of in any-
way that pleases Him. So St. Peter confessed, after the
first miraculous fishing, ' Depart from me for I am a
sinful man, O Lord,' not wishing, certainly, that our
Lord should leave him, but pouring out to Him the
genuine and most prevailing confession of his own
unfitness for the harbouring of so great a guest. Such
was the confession which our Lord puts into the mouth
of the returning prodigal, * Father, I have sinned against
Heaven and before thee, I am no more worthy to be
called thy son.' So too the poor leper was content with
the prayer, ' Lord, if Thou wilt, Thou canst make me
whole.' It was this confession of the Omnipotence of
God which the Centurion added to that of his own
unworthiness, and by so doing, won from our Lord the
answer that it should be done to him according to his
faith. And the poor Syrophoenician woman seems to go
even one step farther, for she was able to discern the
mercifulness as well as the power of our Lord, even
through the veil of a first refusal, supported by the
statement that He was not sent to such as her, ' Suffer
first the children to be filled, for it is not good to take
the bread of the children and cast it to the dogs,' ' Yea,
Lord, for the whelps also, eat under the table of the
crumbs of the children. '^ This was a confession, not
only of His power and of her unworthiness, but also of
the compassionate mercy of His Heart, which was sure
to go beyond the special purpose of His formal mission.
The words thus involve a principle in the ways of God,
the manifest workings of which it would task the sub-
limest theologians to unfold. In all these petitions we
see the greatness of faith coupled with humiUty, which
delights the Heart of our Lord and is, so to say,
irresistible with Him.
2 St. Mark vii. 27.
CHAPTER XL
Our Lord's Brethren.
St. Mark iii. 20, 21 ; Vita Vitce Nostrce, § 51.
It seems well to place at this point of the narra-
tive an incident which is mentioned by St. Mark
alone, although something not unlike it is recorded by
St. Matthew a little later. It is one of those minor
incidents, as they seem, mentioned by the Evangelists
sometimes, for the sake of some few words of our Lord
connected with them, or, as seems the case here, for the
sake of illustrating the general picture which they are
drawing, for the exact place of which in the harmony of
the Gospels we are left more or less to conjecture, but it
is usually best to place them where they occur in the
history without changing the order of the narrative.
St. Mark gives us, more than once, little touches, as they
may be called, which add considerably to our perception
of the state of things in which our Lord was now
moving, and as he places this incident immediately after
the selection of the twelve Apostles, leaving out, as was
to be expected, the Sermon on the Plain, there seems
good reason for thinking that it occurred at this short
visit of our Lord to Capharnaum, for such it seems to
have been, which is chiefly memorable for the miracle of
the healing of the Centurion's servant, and the notable
words which the faith of the master drew from our
Lord.
Our Lo7^d's Brethren. 219
We need not repeat what has already been said about
the family and near relatives of our Blessed Lord. We
hear but little of them in the sacred narrative, but this
must not make us think that they were not continually
in His thoughts, and in intercourse with Him. W^e are
not informed, indeed, as to the number of those who
are thus spoken of. They were probably the blood
relations of His Mother, as the relatives of St. Joseph
would most probably be found in Bethlehem rather than
in Galilee, which seems to have been the home of our
Blessed Lady, and of her parents. All through the
Gospels the terms brethren and sisters are used in the
Jewish sense, which includes near relations, first or
second cousins, and the like, and we do not know
certainly whether the 'sisters' of our Blessed Lady who are
mentioned in the history, were her sisters or her cousins.
Tradition is not unanimous on the point, whether she
was the one single child of her parents, or one of a
family. There seem at all events to have been two or
three families of cousins of our Lord, who are classed
under the general head of His brethren. Some of
these were now found among His Apostles. But there
were also others, whose names perhaps have not come
down to us, for the Evangelists are very sparing in
details of this kind. We hear of them just at the very
beginning of the Public Life of our Lord, when
St. John tells us of His removal from Nazareth to
Capharnaum, with His Mother, His brethren, and His
disciples. This was just before the first Pasch in His
Public Life, and it seems to been mentioned by St. John
with that supplementary purpose which had so much
influence on the formation of his Gospel, in order that
we might understand how it was that Capharnaum came
to be the city of our Lord's home, as far as He had a
home. It would seem, however, that some of His rela-
2 20 Our Lord's Brethren,
tives remained at Nazareth, for at a later time than this
at which we have now arrived, that is, at the time when
He paid His last recorded visit to that town, and was
received with great coldness, the people of Nazareth are
mentioned as saying that they had his ' sisters ' all with
them, that is that His female cousins were settled there.
The same is not said of His 'brethren.' Thus it seems
likely that the sisters of these two or three families were
married in Nazareth, while their brothers, or some of
them, accompanied our Blessed Lady when she fixed
herself at the chief scene of our Lord's labours.
There was thus, as it appears, a little cluster of near
relatives of our Lord at Capharnaurft, with whom was
probably the usual home of His Blessed Mother,
especially at the times when He was absent on His
missionary tours throughout the country. Of these near
relatives of His own, not all were at this time believers
in His Divine Mission or in His Personal Divinity. It
does not follow from this that they all were hostile or
unfriendly. There is every reason for thinking that they
were full of the deepest natural affection for Him, but did
not as yet understand Him. It is probable that our Lord
allowed Himself to experience that which is so constantly
meeting us in the lives of His servants, especially those
who are called by Him to His service from the midst -of
communities outside the Catholic Church, who are tried
by the disappointment of finding their prayers for the
conversion of their dearest on earth long baffled, by some
slowness or blindness in perceiving the truth on the part
of those for whom humanly speaking they pray most
eagerly. In such cases there is often the very tenderest
affection, though the circumstances necessarily involve,
more or less, a lack of mutual comprehension which
would not be painful at all in persons less closely
and less fondly knit together by natural ties. This
J
(
Our Lord's Brethren, 221
is a part of our Lord's Life on earth of which we
have only the slightest glimpses, but we cannot doubt
that, as He was perfect in all His relations and in the
discharge of all duties, public or private, as He was the
tenderest and most loving of sons, or of friends, or of
masters, so also He was the most affectionate and
dutiful of cousins, or brothers in the wider sense of the
term. But there would have been much indeed lost to
us of the example of our Lord, if He had not, when He
was twelve years old, left our Blessed Lady and
St. Joseph so abruptly, in order to linger in the temple
about His Father's business. And so it would not have
been so useful to us if our Lord had not shared the
difficulties which are so painful to His servants, in
having to deal with incredulous relatives and blood
^connections who held Him, for a time at least, more
cheaply than He deserved, or were at least blind to the
great truths which He came to assert concerning His
(own Person. If the veil were lifted which conceals so
much from us of our Lord's experience of this kind, we
should certainly see a picture, of the utmost beauty and
[instructiveness, in His dealings with those who were so
(dear to Him, who knew Him so well according to the
I flesh, but who were so dull in understanding the full truth
rconcerning Him. We may suppose also that our Blessed
I Lady's life among them must have been full of occasions
,for the exercise of wonderful prudence, patience, and
i charity, and that here also there is hidden a chapter of
[history well fitted to delight the eyes of Heaven.
It is not at all unlikely that these relatives of our
I Lord shared to some extent in the favour or disfavour
^which waited on His own Person, as the popular feeling
(changed concerning Him. They would certainly be
known as the 'brethren' of the famous preacher and
[worker of miracles, during the first year of His Galilean
222 Our Lord's Brethren.
preaching, when there was but little of opposition to
Him and much of popular applause and favour. Their
position among their fellow townsfolk would be far more
honourable, than when the time came for the ecclesiastical
authorities to make their league with the Herodians
against Him. At the same time it is natural to think
that His own nearest relations would be of all others
the most anxious for His personal safety, and on the
look out against the many dangers which now threatened
Him. As long as He was absent from the city, they
would hear little of Him, or of the plots against Him,
but they might be well aware of the designs of His
enemies, and, in consequence very anxious that He
should not expose Himself too much to the risk of the
execution of those designs. Even their own safety
might to some extent depend upon their not being too
closely identified with Him. Thus they would have every
motive for being on the watch, and for keeping Him, if
possible, out of the dangers which they saw gathering
around Him.
It is probably to some such motives as these that we
are to ascribe the conduct of the near relatives of our
Lord on the occasion of which St. Mark speaks. Our
Lord had been absent for some time from the city which
was the head quarters of the coaUtion against Him, and
now He had suddenly appeared and made a great
sensation by the miracle on the servant of the Centurion,
a personage, probably of some considerable note in a
community like that of Capharnaum. The news would
fly through the town, and soon reach the ears, not only
of His affectionate kinsfolk, but also of the many
enemies in official position who were on the look out for
Him. It is ver}'' natural that His friends should take
the alarm, and endeavour to persuade Him to retire, or
even to force Him into a place of safety. So bold a
Our Lord's Brethren, 223
challenge to His powerful foes might well seem to them
an act little short of madness, and if they had not the
faith in His Divinity which would make the heart of our
Blessed Lady or the Apostles comparatively secure about
such dangers, it would be all the more natural in them
to do their utmost to shield Him from the consequences
of His apparent rashness. It is in this way, then, that we
are probably to explain the short incident of which we
are speaking.
St. Mark, as has been said, proceeds directly from the
mention of the selection of the twelve Apostles to this
passage in the Life of our Lord. It is quite in keeping
with the character of his Gospel that he should omit the
Sermon on the Plain, as he has omitted also the Sermon
on the JNIount, for his Gospel is notably the story of the
actions of our Lord, rather than the record of His dis-
courses and teachings. But it may seem less consistent
with his method to have omitted the remarkable miracle
on the servant of the Centurion. We cannot always
furnish reasons for these omissions or insertions in the
Evangelists, but it may be supposed, in the present case,
that St. Mark, writing for the Roman Church, did not
wish to mention an incident which turned in great
measure on the inferiority of the Gentiles to the Jews
in the eyes of our Lord's contemporaries in Judea itself.
Our best authority for the state of the Roman Christians
is the Epistle of St. Paul to that Church, and the whole
composition and design of that Epistle reveal to us the
fact that the community to which it was addressed was
of a composite character, made up of a large section of
the Jewish residents in Rome on the one hand, and of a
large number of Gentile converts on the other. To such
a community a prudent Evangelist might not choose to
mention an incident in which the Jew and the Gentile
were brought into sharp contrast, though he might very
224 Our Lord's Brethren,
well record for their benefit the other beautiful incident
of Gentile faith in the case of the Syrophoenician mother,
which is inserted in his Gospel by St. Mark as well as by
St. Matthew. 1 But though St. Mark omits the miracle,
he is the only Evangelist to insert this little incident
which seems to have been the consequence of the
miracle. 'They came/ he says, 'to a house,' that is,
probably, to the house in which our Lord usually dwelt
when He was at Capharnaum. 'And the multitude
came together again, so that they could not so much as
eat bread. And when His friends had heard of it, they
went out to lay hold of Him, for they said, He is become
mad.' It seems clear that our Lord's appearance at
Capharnaum was almost always the occasion for a collec-
tion of the multitudes, and especially if He had, quite
lately, added some fresh miracle of importance to the
many of which they had been witnesses. But the
greater was the concourse and the excitement among the
people, the greater would the danger be that the oppor-
tunity would be taken by His enemies for the acomplish-
ment of their plans against Him. He had consulted, so
it seemed, the dictates of prudence in remaining so long
out of the sight of these enemies. Now He was in their
very midst, and apparently braving them in their very
stronghold. To the eye of human affection and prudence
He might well seem to have lost His senses.
It would seem as if the purpose of the Evangelist were
sufficiently answered by the simple statement of the facts
just related. He tells us nothing of the answer of our
Lord, if He made any answer to the remonstrances of His
kinsfolk, nor does he say what measures they took, nor
how He baffled them. St. Mark seems to wish us to
1 St. Matthew xv, 21 — 28. St, Mark vii. 24 — 30. There is a
marked softening of the words concerning the Gentiles in St. Mark's
account.
i
Our Lord's Brethren, 225
consider chiefly the fact that this judgment was formed
on our Lord by those who ought to have known Him
best. It is extremely interesting, and not a Httle con-
soUng, to find our Lord Himself in the case in which
many of His servants have often been placed. Human
prudence cannot understand the principles of supernatural
action, and tender natural affection is apt to issue in
many a measure of opposition to the impulses of heavenly
wisdom and charity. These kinsfolk of our Lord were
not to be blamed for their excessive anxiety for His
safety. It came from the two causes of their intense
affection for His Person, and of their very imperfect
perception of His Mission. In such cases the ventures
of the Apostolic life, the devotion of self to the cause of
God in religion, the risks of missionary enterprise, the
danger of bold preaching of the truth in the face of a
hostile world, the going forth as sheep among wolves, are
perils which human love cannot bear to see braved by
those to whom it most fondly clings. But like our Lord,
those who are called to follow Him in this kind of life,
and in enterprises for the glory of His Father, have
to act on higher principles, and it is often the case
that the truest wisdom is just the boldest and most
apparently reckless course. An instance of this kind
occurs in the life of St. Francis of Sales, who had, for
some purpose of charity, to pass through Geneva, then
the stronghold of his bitterest enemies, where his life
would have been in danger, and who quietly gave his
name at the gate as the ' Bishop of the Diocese,' and
went through unmolested.
It is only what we should think natural in such
a case, that these ' Brethren ' of our Lord, as they
are called, were in due time to be among His
devoted disciples ; and we shall be able to trace their
gradual advances in faith. It was the Providence of God
p 36
226 Ou7' Lo7'cVs Brethren.
that they should learn the truth concerning Him, as
our Lord said to St Peter, not from flesh and blood, but
from the teaching of His Heavenly Father. For a time
they were to be simply most loving watchers of His
career, on whom the light had not yet dawned. Many
great purposes of God's wisdom were thus served, for the
immense danger of the influence of natural affections on
those who were to be in high places in the Church, had
to be guarded against by something in His own Life, and
there might have been more such ambitions as that of
the Mother of St. James and St. John for Him to fight
against, if all His near kinsfolk had been at once as
quick in recognizing His Divine dignity as they were
careful of His Person. It is said that the ' Joseph called
Barsabas and surnamed the Just,' who was put into com-
petition, so to say, with St. Mathias, when an Apostle was
to be chosen in the place of Judas, was one of these
* Brethren ' of our Lord, and it has been thought that the
choice of St. Mathias was made on the ground that he
was not one of the blood relations of our Lord. How-
ever this may have been, it is certain that few things
have done more mischief in the Church than the
influence of family connections and interests. And
though there have been brilliant exceptions of virtue and
high sanctity, among the immense number of men who
have been promoted because they have borne honoured
names or have had powerful connections, they have been
exceptions indeed, more than counterbalanced by a far
greater number of deplorable examples from which the
greatest miseries have resulted.
CHAPTER XII.
The Raising of the Widow's Son.
St. Liike vii. ii — 16 ; Vita VUcb Nostrce, § 51.
It appears that this visit of our Lord to Capharnaum,
during which He healed the servant of the faithful
Centurion, was a break in the course of the evangelical
circuit of preaching, which He began after the conclusion
of the Sermon on the Plain. He did not stay long in
the city which had come to be called His own. Indeed,
as we have seen, He was not safe there, and those who
loved Plim best in simple human affection, could not
wish Him to expose Himself to the malice of the
powerful conspirators against His life. It seems, also,
as if our Lord's preaching at this time was marked by
even unusual earnestness and perseverance, asjt was to
be almost His last time of labouring regularly in Galilee.
The moment He was known to be at Capharnaum,
crowds would naturally flock to Him, all the more if
the miracle on the Centurion's servant got to be widely
known. The laboriousness of His own teaching com-
municated itself to His disciples, who by this time had
much to do on such occasions in the way of instructing
converts and preparing them for direct intercourse with
our Lord or the reception of Baptism. It might naturally
-seem to His near relations, of whom we have been
speaking in the last chapter, that a visit such as this to
Capharnaum might be a moment of repose to Him and
His hardly worked companions. They could not enter
228 The Raising of the Widow's Son,
into the knowledge in which He habitually lived of the
value of souls, of the danger of missing opportunities, and
of the special reasons which there might be for doing
all that could be done in Capharnaum while there was
yet time.
The great miracle lately wrought would have stirred up
afresh the enthusiasm of the people, and brought back
for the moment the happy readiness to believe and
listen to Him, which had characterized the inhabitants
of the city when He first began to make it His home.
So our Lord worked on, we are not told for how long,
notwithstanding the exertions of His friends to induce
Him to relent and rest and look after His own safety.
His time was not yet come, nor was it to be in Galilee
that His enemies were to carry out to the end their
designs against His life. The occasion passed away,
and in a few days He was probably again on His
evangelical tour, passing from town to town, and village
to village. In the course of this circuit the next great
recorded miracle occurred. It is evidently related by
St. Luke in the place which it occupies in his Gospel,
for the distinct purpose of explaining the incident which
follows next after it, that is, the embassy of the disciples
of St. John Baptist to ask our Lord whether He were
in truth the Messias. It is not too much to conclude
that it was also worked by our Lord for the purpose of
arousing the attention of the people, for the first time, by
a miracle in which He displayed His power over life and
death, and of so kindling an enthusiasm which might
make itself felt even in the remote prison of His beloved
friend the Baptist, thus to give him the opportunity of
bearing, in truth, his last witness to our Lord before his
head fell at the behest of a lascivious dancing-girl.
The miracle of which we are now about to speak
belongs to that class, among the similar works of our
i
The Raising of the Widow's Son. 229
Lord, in which He seems to have acted with a distinct
purpose of manifesting His glory and power, without any
positive solicitation, on the part either of the subjects
of the miracles or of any one in their name. In this
respect it stands in striking contrast to the miracle just
now related, the healing of the Centurion's servant. In
that case a very considerable amount of influence, if we
may so speak, had been exerted in order to induce Him,
as men thought, to work the miracle. In the present
case, there is nothing of the kind. It seems as if He
was on the look out for an opportunity to work a wonder
of m.ercy, still more surprising than any which have been
as yet recorded in the course of the Gospel history.
We cannot of course be certain that, up to this time,
our Blessed Lord had not raised any one from the dead.
But no such miracle has been mentioned, up to this
time, by the EvangeHsts. If it were the case, as is most
probable, that this was indeed the earliest instance of a
raising from the dead, it may also be supposed that, as
to this class of miracle, people would hardly have
thought of asking for such favours, on account of the
dulness of their faith as yet unremoved. There would
probably not be many cases in which they would reason
with the simplicity of which we have seen an instance
in the Centurion, and there is certainly a natural and
just tendency, in our minds to consider the power of
restoring the dead to life one of the very highest, if not
the very highest, of all the manifestations of power
altogether Divine and reserved to God.
The few instances found among the Prophets would
serve rather to enhance the singular pre-eminence of
such wonde! ^ than the reverse. But our Lord was to
manifest this pDwer also, as well as those of \vhich we
have already had instances, and we cannot think but
that the time and occasion of this manifestation were
230 The Raising of the Widow* s Son.
carefully arranged, in the Providence of His Father,
with reference to the evidence which was gradually-
accumulating concerning His Divine Person and Mission.
Thus He had spoken to the Jewish rulers at Jerusalem,
in the long discourse in which, after the miracle at the
Probatic Pool, He had set forth for them the various
kinds of evidence by which His Mission was attested, of
this sort of miracle as something future. And, though
He may have had more directly in His mind the future
resurrection of all men by the power of the Son of Man,
it is likely that He also intended to prepare them for
resurrections to be worked in His Public Life, the last
and most wonderful of which was the raising of Lazarus
close to Jerusalem itself, a miracle so splendid, so
unquestionable in all its details, as to drive His enemies
to an absolute despair, and to the plot against His life
which was consummated in the Passion a few weeks
later. But now He was more probably immediately
desirous of working a miracle of this kind, in order, as
has been said, that the fame of it might reach His
Precursor in his prison, and produce his last effort to
contribute to the glory of his Lord.
Although the miracle of which the narrative is to
follow was thus one of those wrought more especially
and singly for the purpose of attesting, in the most
striking way, the Divine Mission of our Lord, it by no
means follows from this that the instance of the exercise
of His mercy which it contained was not also carefully
chosen. None of the circumstances were left to hazard.
Thus, it was not in any place where our Lord was
already very well known, and, as far as we are told, He
did not re-visit Nairn after the miracle. Thus the
miracle had an air of entire absence of preparation or
design. It might have taken place in any of the almost
countless towns and villages of Galilee. The persons
I
The Raising of the Widow's Son. 231
in whose favour it was wrought were, as it seems,
unknown to the company of our Lord's followers. They
had nothing to plead for them, except the touching
incidents of their case. Thus this miracle comes to be
one of the most beautiful revelations remaining to us of
the extreme tenderness and compassionateness of the
Sacred Heart of our Lord. Then, as it were, He had
to choose a subject for a great work of mercy which
was required for the evidence of His Divine power.
He chose it, not in any conspicuous spot in the Holy
Land, not in Jerusalem or in Capharnaum, not in the
case of persons whose position would have given a
greater publicity and splendour to the work He was to
do, not in His own family, or among the relations of
those most dear to Him, but He chose it by the wayside,
as it were, among comparative strangers, and yet with
the most delicate consideration for the circumstances in
the case which called upon His ineffable compassion-
ateness.
' And it came to pass afterwards,' says St. Luke, that
is, after the visit to Capharnaum which had been marked
by the healing of the Centurion's servant, ' that He went
into a city called Naim, and there went with Him His
disciples, and a great multitude.' The language of the
Evangelist shows that it was on one of the ordinary
missionary circuits, and that our Lord was accompanied,
as usual, by His disciples, the Apostles, and others, and
by multitudes who had flocked from all sides, to hear
His teaching and to witness His miracles, 'And when
He came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, a dead
man was carried out, the only son of his mother, and
she was a widow.' Thus, in the fewest words, does
St. Luke paint for us the picture of the desolation which
the death of this young man had left behind it. His
mother had lost the staff of her life in her husband, and
'22,2 The Raising of the Widoivs Son.
now the burthen of her bereavement was heaped up
and croAMied by the death of her only son. The widow
anentroned in the Second Book of Kings, who was sent
'by Joab to persuade David to recall Absalom, had
feigned her story in the most touching terms, and she
had told the King, 'They seek to quench my spark
which is left, and will leave my husband no name nor
remainder upon the earth.' ^ What this woman had
painted as the greatest possible calamity which could
befal her, had already fallen on this widow of Nairn.
She was utterly alone on earth, and the name of her
hu^and and family were blotted out. Her old age
comld be cheered by no care of her boy, in return for
the love of both of his parents. She was following him
to the grave, and then all would be over for her. She
was well known, perhaps a person of some position in
the city, for ' a great multitude of the city was with her.'
Her calamity, and the natural sympathy which it called
forth, thus brought our Lord the occasion of working a
miracle that would be witnessed and attested by an
immense multitude.
The circumstances made it natural and inevitable that
some thousands of people were present, the crowds accom-
panying our Lord meeting the crowds which poured
forth from the city gates. And, if the former multitudes
were prepared to see almost any imaginable miracle
without surprise, the inhabitants of Naim were witnesses
provided, whose testimony could not be called in doubt,
as that of enthusiastic followers of the wonderworking
Prophet. In this respect this miracle stands out in the
catalogue of our Lord's wonders, like those of the
multiplication of the loaves. Again, the occasion was
one of singular solemnity, and all hearts were prepared
for the holy influences which grace might exercise, by
1 2 Kings xiv. 7.
1
The Raising of the Widow's Son. 233
the natural compassion for the poor widow, and the
holy rite of sepulture which was to be performed. All
these circumstances add to the beauty of the incident,
but we may suppose that the main motive in the Sacred
Heart of our Lord was His infinitely tender compassion.
It appears, also, that the spot itself was exactly fitted for
a miracle which was to have a large number of attentive
witnesses. The road ascending to the gate of Nairn
enabled the multitudes who were following Him to see
our Lord above them, and the crowd that followed the
bier had the whole scene before their eyes.
* Whom when the Lord had seen, being moved with
mercy towards her. He said to her. Weep not.' The
Evangelist speaks of the compassion of our Lord as
the moving cause of the action which followed. The
whole of the miracle is as it were contained in those few
words, ' Weep not,' and in the compassion which dictated
them. For the compassion of God can never be in-
operative, except when men place, of their own malice,
an obstacle in the way of His mercy. Our Lord does
not require of this poor mourner any confession of faith
in His Divine power, but He leads her on to the forma-
tion of faith in Him by the gentle words with which
He begins His intervention. For these words might
have been addressed to her by an ordinary consoler, who
had no power to assuage her grief beyond that of kind
words, sympathy, and the suggestion of holy thoughts
and motives of resignation. But for our Lord to say,
*■ Weep not,' implied something more. It implied that
He was about to console her grief by taking away
altogether its cause. First He spoke to the mourning
mother, and that simple action must have arrested
attention, and made the multitude of the disciples alive
with the expectation of some marvellous work of mercy
and love. Or, it may be, that they thought He might
234 The Raising of the Widow* s Son.
take the occasion to make the accident, as it appeared
to be, of His meeting the funeral procession just at this
point, the subject of some fresh Divine teaching con-
cerning the frailty of life, the certainty and swiftness of
death, and the great truths of the world beyond the
grave.
Thus it was that the multitude paused, and there was a
hush of attention, all eyes bent towards our Lord and
the widow. Then ' He came near and touched the
bier. And they that carried it, stood still' Thus the
multitudes also that were passing out of the gates after
the mother and the bier, were arrested and their attention
drawn to what was passing. Our Lord did not command
the bearers, but they were moved by His majesty and
the authority which He could not lay aside, and they
obeyed Him instinctively, thus furnishing on their own
part something of the conditions necessary for the
miracle, at least in ordinary cases of the kind, in the
way of obedience grounded upon faith. And then there
was another short pause. The bearers stood motionless,
the multitude on both sides, the followers of our Lord
and the mourners from the city, waiting in silent awe,
the mother already full of the peace, resignation, and
hope which a few words of all-powerful consolation had
breathed into her heart. Then the solemn words were
heard in the midst of the silence : ' Young man ! I say
to thee. Arise.'
The words were not heard by the listeners in the
vast multitude before their effect was seen. It would
seem that the body was not bound round, as in the
case of Lazarus — the young man lay on his bier as if
on a bed. He moved instantly, sprang up into a sitting
posture, and began to speak. Life was there, perfect,
conscious intelligent life. He sat up of himself, and
began at once to speak, showing that he knew where
The Raising of the Widow's Son, 235
he was and what had taken place. It would seem as if
his words must have been an answer to those which
our Lord had addressed to him, the word of Divine
authority and power, commanding him, as the creature
of his God, the Lord of life and death, to return to life.
As our Lord had said to the priests at Jerusalem, so had
it been. The dead had heard the voice of the Son of
Man and had lived. And the first words of the raised
young man may have been words of obedience and
thankfulness to his Saviour. This soul had seen the
realities of the world beyond the grave, but yet his lot
had not been finally settled, there had been some delay
in the Judgment, and he had not been hurried at once
either to Purgatory, if he had died in grace, or to the
place of eternal torment, if he had died in sin. His
eyes had been opened to the great truths, the value of
the soul, the miseries of this world, the poisonous nature
of sin, the rights and the justice of God. He had much
indeed to say, but the greatest of all the truths that had
flashed upon his mind was that of the Work and Office
and Person of our Divine Lord. But our Lord was not
there to listen to what this poor rescued soul might have
to say to Him by way of gratitude, but to testify to His
Divine Mission by a great work of mercy and Divine
power. He thought first of the poor mother, compassion
for whom had had so large a share in the selection of
her son for this singular and most magnificent grace.
' He gave him to his mother.' And there the Evangelist
leaves the story, with that severe reserve and simplicity
which characterize him. It is left to meditative souls to
feed their hearts and imaginations on the joy of the
mother in her son and of the son in his mother. Nor
are we told, either about this young man, or about the
other subjects of our Lord's marvellous works of mercy,
how they afterwards used the life or the health, or the
236 The Raising of the Widow's Son.
faculties, which had been restored to them. The
Evangelists are engaged in their peculiar work of
furnishing to the Church of God for all time a summary
of the sayings and doings of our Lord, and they do not
dwell on the history of any one but Him.
A miracle so beautiful as this, of the raising of the
widow's son to life, has naturally suggested to pious
commentators on the Gospel history a number of con-
templations, by which the incidents related by the
Evangelist are applied to that spiritual death of the
soul, of which the death of the body is a figure, and to
the restoration of the life of the soul, which is wrought
by the grace of God in penitence, through the merits
of our Blessed Lord. Before examining these contem-
plations, we may remind ourselves first that, though our
Blessed Lady is not mentioned as having been present
on this occasion, it is not likely but that the thought
of her, so like in her condition to this poor widow, and
so soon to be bereaved of her only Son by the malice
of His enemies, should have been present to our Lord
at this time, and have added to the tenderness of the
compassion which is assigned by St. Luke as the moving
influence of His Sacred Heart. She had been the actual
intercessor with our Lord, in the case of His first outward
miracle at the marriage at Cana, and she had been His
instrument in the first spiritual miracle which He had
wrought when a Child in her womb, upon the soul of
His Precursor, St. John. It is natural, certainly, to think
that the thought of her was also a motive power in the
selection of this widow as the recipient of His bounty on
this occasion — the first, as has been said, on which it is
recorded that He raised any one from the dead. He
may well have seen her in the poor mourner who
followed her only son to the grave, as she was to
receive His own Body when taken down from the
The Raising of the Widow's Son. 237
Cross, and to stand by when Nicodemus and Joseph
of Arimathea, with the other disciples, laid Him in the
new sepulchre. She was also to be the first to whom
He was to appear, when He had risen again by His
own power, from the grave. In all these particulars,
the shadow of Mary seems to rest upon this widowed
mother.
It is well to remember also that the great instances
in the Old Testament, in which similar miracles had
been wrought by the great Prophets Elias and Eliseus,
were like this miracle in the circumstance that they too
were wrought in favour of widows. And it is remarkable
to notice the contrast which exists between the labori-
ousness, so to speak, of the miracles of Elias and of
Eliseus, and the supreme and Divine ease with which
this resurrection was brought about by our Lord. Elias
cried vehemently to the Lord and stretched himself on
the dead child three times, before the miracle in his case
was granted. Eliseus first of all sent his servant Giezi
with his staff to lay upon the dead child of the
Sunamitess, and that was of no avail. Then he went
himself, ' And going in he shut the door upon him and
the child, and prayed to the Lord. And he went up
and lay upon the child, and he put his mouth upon his
mouth, and his eyes upon his eyes, and his hands upon
his hand, and he bowed himself upon the child and the
child's flesh grew warm. Then he returned and walked
in the house, once to and fro, and he went up and lay
upon him, and the child gaped seven times and opened
his eyes.' 2 For the miracles of the Prophets were won
by prayer, and were granted to great exertions and
entreaties, but our Lord had but to speak the word and
He was obeyed, whether by the winds and the sea, or by
the devils, or by disease, or by death itself. Nor is it
2 3 Kings xvii. 21 ; 4 Kings iv. 33, 34.
o
8 The Raising of the Widow's Son.
improbable that this miracle was wrought under these
circumstances and with these conditions, with express
reference to the famous miracles of Elias and Eliseus,
and that the selection of the widow's son, in this case
also, may have had a special meaning in God's Provi-
dence, apart from the peculiarly moving sorrows of the
mother, in order that the people, so well acquainted
as they were with the wonders wrought by the Prophets,
might have their attention drawn to the immense differ-
ence between the power exercised by His servants and
that of which our Lord was master.
For the mystical and figurative meaning of this miracle
we cannot do better than follow the devout Ludolph of
Saxony. The youth who is carried forth to burial is the
man dead in mortal sin. The mother who follows him
to the grave is the Church, whose children all the faithful
are. She loves each one of her children so tenderly,
that each one is to her as if he were her only child, as
our Lord is said by the Saints, following St. Paul, to
have died for each one as if he had been the only one
to be redeemed by His Death. She is called a widow,
because she has been deprived of her Spouse by death,
and is now in a place of exile, separated from His
embraces. The dead man is carried out to burial, when
the purpose of sin is executed in action. The four
bearers of the dead are the four affections of the soul,
joy and sorrow, hope and fear. Men, says St. Bernard,
•love what they ought not, and fear what they should not,
they sorrow vainly, and they rejoice still more vainly.
For it is the love of sin, or the fear of penance, or the
hope of time for repentance, or the presumptuous hope
of the mercy of God, which leads them to sin. Or the
four bearers are four things which encourage men to
continue in sin, the confidence of a longer life, or the
habit of considering the sins of others and not our own.
The Raising of the Widow's Son. 239
which makes us avoid correction, or the foolish hope of
repenting by-and-bye, or the confidence in the mercy of
God, which makes men see how long He leaves sinners
unpunished, and so they become more inclined to sin.
Or it may be understood that a man is carried on to the
death of his soul in sin by carnal desires, or by the
flatteries of false friends, or the silence of men who
ought to correct him, as his prelates, or by anything else
that nourishes sin in him. And the gate of the city
through which the dead man is carried out, is any one
of the senses by means of which sin is manifested. To
sow discord among brethren, for instance, or to speak
in commendation of wickedness, is to carry out the dead
by the gate of the mouth. To look on a woman to lust
after her, is to do the same by the gate of the eyes. In
the same way the gate may be the gate of the ears, or
any other. The bier is the conscience, on which the
sinner rests, though uneasily. There are three signs of
a temporal death, the impotence to move or act, the
state of utter insensibility, and the stiffness and rigidity
which comes after the spirit has fled. So to be unable
to do any good thing is the sign of spiritual death, and
so it is with insensibility to warnings and admonitions,
and with the rigidity of the soul, by which a man is
impotent either to obey God or to compassionate his
neighbour. Pride takes away the power of doing good,
lust takes away the sensibility to warnings, avarice makes
men hard to God and to man.
In the same way the three things which are recorded
of this young man, when raised to life, are significant
of the signs of spiritual resuscitation. The sitting up
again is contrition, by which we rise from the state of
prostration in sin, the speaking is significant of con-
fession, by which a man becomes his own accuser, and
the restoration of the young man to his mother signifies
240 The Raisi7ig of the Widow's Son.
satisfaction. By this means a sinner is restored to his
mother the Church, the communion of the faithful.
Then again there is a spiritual meaning in the process
by which the young man was restored to life. Our
Blessed Saviour draws near, when He sends to the soul
of the sinner some preventive grace, some desire of
salvation. He touches the bier, when He softens the
heart and conscience of the sinner to penitence, and
brings him to know himself, and then he arises from
his sin. 'And we must know,' continues Ludolph,
*that the Holy Ghost has willed that sin should be
signified by death, in order to show how greatly sin is
to be shunned, and how deeply it must be mourned
when it has been committed. One who sees his friend
to be in mortal sin should mourn over him as if he were
dead, and indeed more. As we must so greatly fear
death and sin, and greatly grieve over it when com-
mitted, so in the same way and degree must we greatly
desire the conversion of the sinner and rejoice over
it when it has been brought about. Pray therefore,
O sinner, to the Lord, that He may raise thee from the
death of sin, and restore thee to His holy Church to the
praise and glory of His name.'
The result of the miracle is dwelt upon by St. Luke
with unusual stress. 'And there came a great fear
on them all, and they glorified God, saying a great
Prophet is risen up amongst us, and God hath visited
His people.' This great miracle therefore completely
answered the purpose for which it is probable that it
was wrought by our Lord. We hear of no cavilling or
unbelief in this large multitude. For a time the voice
of His enemies was hushed. The whole multitude was
filled with that holy rejoicing awe which pervades large
masses of men when they are full of faith and are
collected together for some holy purpose, such as a
The Raising of the Widow's Son. 241
pilgrimage, or the celebration of a great festival, or of
some deliverance of the Church from her enemies, and
when they have felt very nearly and unmistakeably the
working of Divine power, whether by external miracle or
by the effusion of the grace of conversion as the fruit of
some Apostolic preaching. In such times the faith of
each is as it were multiplied by the faith of all — each
one helps his neighbour to greater fervour, and the
general feeling is chiefly one of fear, but without terror.
Men feel that God has been and is among them, and
this feeling in our present state cannot but have some-
thing of fear about it, on account of the uncertainty in
which we all must be as to the state of our own con-
sciences.
But this reverent fear of the multitude was not such
as to hinder them from breaking out into thanksgivings
and rejoicings, glorifying God for the great work which
they had witnessed, and which they could attribute to
no one but to Him. The words in which they manifested
their praise and glorification of God are twofold in the
record of St. Luke, and in both cases there is reference
to the promise of God and the expectations of the
people as to His mercy towards them. 'A great
Prophet has risen up amongst us.' These words may
imply that a prophet of the highest class had been
manifested by the miracle, a prophet like Elias and
Eliseus, of whose miracles this was a repetition, with so
many circumstances of additional splendour; or they
may refer to the express promise made by Moses of a
great Prophet like to himself, by whom he meant the
Messias, though it is not certain that the Jews of our
Lord's time had not come to distinguish between this
Prophet and the promised Son of David. As it is
St. Luke who is writing, and as his Gospel is mainly
addressed to the Gentile Churches, it is not conclusive
Q 36
242 The Raising of the Widow ^s Son,
against this last meaning that he does not say 'the
Prophet ' rather than a great Prophet. The second
thing that the multitudes expressed in their praise of
God on this occasion was that He had visited His
people, words which remind us of the same expression
in the Canticle of St. Zachary on the birth of his son,
St. John Baptist. In that canticle the word can mean
no one less than the Messias Himself, for it is there
added not only that God had visited His people, but
that He has redeemed them. The lowest sense of these
words, in the mouths of this crowd of disciples and of
friends of the happy widow of Nairn, is that which
signifies no more than one of the many great visitations
of mercy vouchsafed, from time to time, by God to His
people. The highest sense is that in which the words
are understood of the great Prophet promised by Moses
himself, whether they distinguished between Him and
the Messias or not, and of that supreme visitation of
which Zachary spoke when he rejoiced over the advent
of God in the flesh. Who had dwelt so many weeks
under his roof, as a Child in the womb of His Blessed
Virgin Mother, 'through the bowels of mercy of our
God, whereby the Orient from on high hath visited us,
to enlighten them that sit in darkness and in the shadow
of death, and to guide our feet into the way of peace.'
As the circumstances of this miracle were so divinely
chosen in other ways, so especially were they most
admirably fitted for the end which our Lord appears
to have had in view when He worked it, namely, for
the speedy and wide propagation of the news that He
had at length manifested His power by raising one from
the dead. The miracle had an immense number of
witnesses from all parts through which our Lord had
passed, for it was now customary for people to follow
Him from one city to another, and a large part of the
i
The Raising of the Widow 's Son, 243
population of Nairn itself had seen the wonderful act of
mercy. In all simple populations such tidings fly on
the wings of the winds. ' And the rumour of Him went
forth throughout all Judea, and throughout all the
country round about.' The whole of the Holy Land
was filled with the report of this miracle, and it reached
even the outlying border regions by which Judea and
Galilee were encompassed. How it struck on the hearts
of the envious priests at Jerusalem, or of the crafty
servants of Herod on the lake of Galilee, we are not
told. But the next words of St. Matthew on which we
are to comment show us how the tidings reached even
the Blessed Precursor in his dungeon, and sounded in
his ears Hke a special message from Heaven.
CHAPTER XIII.
Last Witness of St. John Baptist.
St. Matt. xi. 2 — 6 ; St. Luke vii. 17 — 23 ; VUa VUce Nosirce, § 52.
The miracle at Nairn was, in the opinion of the people
generally, by far the greatest work of the kind that had
been wrought by our Lord. He was already known all
over the land as a mighty worker of miracles of various
degrees, but the language in which the Evangelists speak
of the effect of this one great wonder is stronger than
that used on any former occasion. Nor is this a matter
of surprise to us. For nothing in the order of mar-
vellous works of mercy can come near, in the common
opinion of men, to the raising of the dead to life. Such
a miracle seems to be in an order by itself. This power
is by no means so frequently granted to the Saints of
God as that of other miracles. And, if it be true, we
are led by the silence of the Evangelists to think, that
this was the first instance of the exercise of this power
by our Blessed Lord, it is very natural to suppose that
the sensation which it created all over the country would
be quite different from any that had been occasioned by
former works of our Lord, however magnificent and
multitudinous. But the particular effect of this miracle
with which we are now concerned, is that which is
specially mentioned by St. Luke in the few words in
which he speaks of the ' rumour which went forth con-
cerning our Lord ' in consequence of this great display
i
Last Witness of St. Jo Jut Baptist. 245
of power. He adds, ' And the disciples of John told
him of all these things.'
We are thus taken back in thought to the holy
Baptist, who had now for a year or more been a close
prisoner in the fortress adjoining the palace in which
Herod the Tetrarch resided. St. Luke in another place
gives us a picture of the Blessed Precursor of our Lord
in his prison life, which was so soon to be terminated by
martyrdom. He tells us how Herod had imprisoned
St. John on account of his open denunciation of the
incestuous intercourse between the Tetrarch and
Herodias, which was now publicly obtruded on the world
under the name of marriage, but which scandalized the
people as well as the more religious classes to such an
extent, that Herod was afraid to leave at liberty a man
of so much influence as St. John, lest troubles might
arise if the popular feeling were stirred up by the power-
ful voice of one who was held as a Prophet. St. John
in his prison was an object of fear and hatred to
Herodias, for guilty persons of that sort, however power-
ful, are never free from fear, and they show the uneasi-
ness of their conscience by constant attempts to rid
themselves by violence, open or secret, of those whose
presence is a rebuke to them, and from whose influence
they anticipate trouble. The vindictive spite of the
adulteress did not sleep, notwithstanding tl]e chains and
dungeon of St. John. She was not satisfied, and her
resentment was ere long to have its full glut in the
murder of the Prophet. Probably one of the elements
of the alarm of Herodias on the score of St. John was
the influence which he still exercised over her weak
though unscrupulous paramour. Herod was a man of
the world, probably himself the seduced rather than the
seducer, a man not without some good instincts and
some ideas of what was right and just. In many things
246 Last Witness of St. John Baptist.
he followed the advice given him by St. John, and the
Prophet was allowed, as it seems, to have free intercomrse
with his friend and disciples, who might minister to his
few wants and continue to be guided by him. The
cruelty of Herod was the cruelty of a voluptuary, which
does not exclude occasional acts of generosity and good
nature.
The blessed St. John had only been occupied in his
course of preaching for not more than a few months, and
the greater part of his life had been spent in the desert
in seclusion and prayer, contemplation, and mortifica-
tion. It would seem to be little matter to him, whether
his cell, so to speak, were the dungeon in Herod's prison,
or the cave on the desert or on mountain side. His
wants were few, his happiness was in communion with
his God, and this he could practise as well in one place
as in another. Nor had he any ambition, we may
suppose, to continue his course of popular preaching, for
the time of his ministr>-, which was essentially transient,
had gone by, he had finished his work of the preparation
of men's hearts for our Lord, and now He had come
whose shoe's latchet he was not worthy to unloose. But
a heart like his could not but be on fire with zeal for
souls. In his prison St. John watched the progress of the
preaching of the Kingdom of Heaven. Many a work of
wonder would have been related to him by his disciples,
and he would have heard of our Lord's gracious words
and heavenly teaching, of the authority with which He
spoke, and the multitudes that followed Him. Later on
St John might have heard of the opposition which had
sprung up, and which threatened to bar the onward path
of the new Teacher. His disciples might have told him
of what had passed at Jerusalem at the last Pasch, and
the court of the Tetrarch would receive some reports of
the attitude now taken up by his political servants. Then
Last Witness of St. John Baptist. 247
it would be said how for a time little had been said or
heard of the Teacher against Whom so powerful a coali-
tion had been formed. He had withdrawn from the
spots where His presence had been most familiar, though
there were reports of His continued preaching on the
outskirts of the towns, and it was said that He was still
dangerous. He had not lost His hold on the common
people. Perhaps St, John may have heard of our Lord's
sudden re-appearance at Capharnaum, but it is certain
that the miracle of Nairn reached his ears, the first
instance of which he could have heard of the raising of
the dead to life.
It is impossible to suppose that St. John could be
indifferent to all that was brought to him by his disciples
concerning our Blessed Lord at this time. He may well
have seen in the rise of the opposition to our Lord on
the part of the authorities of the holy people a danger
to the faith of those who were still under his guidance as
his disciples. If the authorities at Jerusalem were
beginning to use their immense influence with the people
against Jesus Christ, he might have felt that this was a
call to exert his own influence more openly on the other
side. We are not told much about the disciples of the
Baptist, but there seems no reason for thinking that they
were in any way at all indisposed to our Lord. Their
case may have been parallel to that of the near blood
relations of our Lord, of whom we had lately to speak.
We are sometimes incHned to judge rather impatiently
of men who do not at once accept the evidences of the
Church, or close at once with the whispers of a \oitf
vocation. It is well that we have in the Gospels cases
which may rebuke this impatience. God dealt with the
Brethren of oiu: Lord, as they are called, in one way,
and He dealt with the disciples of St. John in another,
and in another again with such future disciples at
248 Last Witness of St. John Baptist.
Jerusalem, in the very midst of the priestly hostility to
our Lord, as Nicodemus, Joseph of Arimathea, and
Gamaliel, perhaps with St. Stephen also, and with the
still greater soul of St. Paul. If there was any hesitation
as to our Lord's Mission and dignity on the part of these
disciples of the Precursor — though we do not know that
there was — it would be something like what is found in
the case of persons who are being gradually led on by
the good, positive, though imperfect, teaching of com-
munities outside the Church which have retained large
shreds of Catholic doctrine, or much more, by the per-
sonal influence and teaching of some leader of thought
on whom the full light has not yet dawned. There will
always be souls in such a stage of spiritual progress,
as not yet to have been ripened for the full sacrifice
of conversion, under circumstances when conversion
implies great material losses and strong social persecu-
tion, and others, too, in whom the intellectual process of
laying aside the prejudices and false teaching of genera-
tions is slow in attaining its completion. Again, these
souls have often a work to do in influencing others, a
work which must have its time. Providence is very
tender with such souls, so long as they retain their
simplicity and their good faith, and the tenderness of
Providence in their regard is the method chosen by
Infinite Wisdom for their final salvation or perfection,
a method full of beautiful order and delicate adapta-
tion of means to ends.
These disciples of St. John, of whom we are now
speaking, were on their way to a full faith in our Lord's
Divine Person, not by the teaching of flesh and blood,
but by the silent gradual teaching of the Father of all
in His Providence. It was the office of St. John to
minister in his own way to the gradual formation and
expansion of the faith in their hearts, thus aiding the
Last Witness of St. John Baptist. 249
work of the Eternal Father in them. If the opposition
of the priests and scribes of Jerusalem quickened the
anxiety of the Baptist concerning those who were so dear
to him, and over whom he had so delicate a charge, the
news of the great manifestations of Divine power on the
part of our Lord came to him as a fresh delight and
consolation, furnishing him with a precious opportunity
of doing a last service to the cause of the Master Whom
he so devotedly loved. Here was a new argiuTient for
St. John to use. He might, it is true, have taken up the
argument himself, and have urged it home to the
disciples who yet remained to him. But in the wisdom
of Providence a better way was ordained than even the
words of the Baptist himself to disciples however devoted
to him. In his own deep humility, St. John would
rejoice above everything in being able to send his
followers to our Lord, and let them hear from Himself
what He might say, and see for themselves what He
might do.
Again, in doing this St. John was acting directly in accord-
ance with the method of Divine Providence in the mani-
festation of our Lord, as laid down by our Lord Himself.
It will be remembered that on the great occasion on
■which our Lord, after the miracle on the man at the Pro-
batic Pool, unfolded to the Jewish teachers and rulers
the series of evidences with which it had pleased His
Eternal Father to accredit His Mission, He had spoken
of the witness borne to Him by St. John the Baptist as
the first kind of evidence to which those who were then
questioning Him and accusing Him ought to have paid
attention. They had sent unto John, He told them, and
* he gave testimony to the truth.' He was a burning
and shining light, and they were willing for a season to
rejoice in his light. * But,' He added, * He had a
greater testimony than that of John.' This greater testi-
250 Last Witness of St. John Baptist.
mon)^ was that of the works which His Father gave Him
to perfect. 'The works themselves which I do, give
testimony of Me that the Father hath sent INIe.' Thus,
in the order of Divine Providence, our Lord was to be
first attested by the witness of St. John, and then by the
still greater v\dtness of His own miracles. This witness
was greater than that of John, because the witness of
John was that of a man, while the testimony of the
works was that of God. The works as such were not
precisely the Words of God, the Voice of God, as it
was heard at the time of our Lord's Baptism and
afterwards at the Transfiguration, but they were works
which none but God, or One with Whom God was,
could do, and thus they attested the truth which our
Lord declared them to attest, that the Father had
sent Him. He was therefore to be listened to and
accepted as the Messenger of the Father.
This same order of Divine Providence as to the
various testimonies to our Lord was now illustrated by
the remarkable action of St. John Baptist himself It
was the great desire of St. John, as has already been
shown more than once, to pass on his disciples to our
Lord, and, as long as they existed as a separate body, to
make them a school by means of which converts were
gained who might afterwards go on to the teaching of
our Lord and to faith in Him. In order that this
might be done more securely, it was right that St. John
should follow the order of Divine Providence, and
guide them to our Lord by means of the appointed
proofs of our Lord's Mission. Thus it was natural that
when he knew for certain that our Lord's Mission had
been accredited by miracles, he should give his disciples
the opportimity of using this testimony for their own
advantage. For himself, it is impossible to think that he
needed the proof of what he had so faithfully taught
J
Last Witness of St. John Baptist. 251
and declared. At the time at which we have now
arrived in the narrative of this second year of our Lord's
PubHc Ministry, it would seem as if St. John had come
to the determination of formally sending a deputation
of his disciples to our Lord in order that they might be
convinced of the truth concerning Him to which St. John
had himself so often borne witness. The incident is intro-
duced by St. Luke, as has been said, with words which
connect it immediately with the miracle lately wrought on
the son of the widow at Naim. St, Luke's words imply
that the blessed Baptist waited till his disciples of their
own accord spoke to him of the mighty works of our
Lord. It need not be supposed that there was any diffi-
culty in leading them on to the belief in our Lord, but
they still clung to their old teacher, and it was his
business, as it was his delight, to help them on.
St. Matthew, who is the only other Evangelist who
mentions this incident, introduces it with words still
more striking, though he does not mention the significant
fact of the disciples of St. John having spoken to their
master concerning our Lord. He tells us that ' John
heard in his prison the works of Christ,' or rather the
^ works of the Christ' Nowhere else in his Gospel
does St. Matthew speak of our Lord in these words,
as simply of the Christ. And we must therefore
suppose that he intends us to understand him on this
occasion as pointing out that the works of which he
is speaking were the works of the Christ, in the strictest
sense of the words, that is, the works which belonged
to the Christ as He had been promised by the Prophets.
This then was the occasion of this embassy, as it
may be called, in which the great Precursor solemnly
appealed to our Lord to give a definite answer to the
surmises and conjectures and doubts concerning Himself,
which were current in the hearts of men wherever the
252 Last Witness of St. John Baptist.
wonderful tidings of His teaching and miracles had
been carried. It need not be supposed that St. John
considered his own disciples alone in this message. He
may have had the intention of convincing others, by
means of the disciples whom he sent, for it is natural
to think that the adhesion of a body which must have
been held in so much respect, would add greatly to
the prestige of the new Teacher. No one would be
able to say that St. John was in any way opposed to
our Lord. And we find no traces of such an allegation
in the Sacred Scriptures. John is always spoken of as
testifying to our Lord, as saying great things of our
Lord. The terms of the message of the Baptist are the
same in the two Evangelists who relate this incident —
* Art Thou He that art to come, or look we for
another?' It is interesting to note how the same
question may be put in a captious, and in a devout and
simple, manner by different persons, according to the
state of their heart. This question was in the minds of
all men at this time, and our Lord was always practically
giving it an answer. But it was the complaint of His
enemies that He would not tell them openly Who He
was. He let His works speak for Him, and He relied
on the evidences with which, as has been said, the
Father in His providence accredited His Mission. He
would not be dictated to, as we shall see, as to signs from
Heaven, or even as to plain open declarations for which
those who sought for them were not fit, and which,
indeed, they only sought for with a view of using them
against Him. When at last the time came for Him to
be adjured by the living God to tell them whether He
was the Christ, He did so, and we know what was the
result in His enemies of that open declaration. They
would not receive His testimony concerning Himself,
and yet, as He had said on a former occasion, when they
Last Witness of St. John Baptist. 253
had challenged Him as bearing witness to Himself, He
answered, ' Although I give testimony of Myself, My testi-
mony is true, for I know whence I come and whither I go,
but you know not whence I come or whither I go.'^
Nor can it be admitted as a rule, concerning the
messengers of God, even inferior in authority to our
Lord, that they are not to be listened to in what they say
of themselves. It was His great humility, and much
more His consummate prudence, that made Him say so
little concerning Himself. And we know that even to
His disciples He did not speak plainly and openly, until
quite the end of His sojourn with them. It is also to
be noted, that the truth of our Lord's Mission, and
especially the truth of His Divine Personality, which was
most clearly and continually claimed by Himself, may be
most fairly and cogently urged on those who already
admit Him to have the evidences of Divine Mission,
such as miracles and the like, the fulfilment of
prophecy, and other such demonstrations, because it is
impossible to think of God that He would so accredit
a Person Who could speak the slightest untruth concern-
ing Himself. And this is, in the same way, to be taught
concerning the Catholic Church, that she after all is the
witness to her own prerogatives, and what she claims for
herself, as to her position in the world, and as to the
obedience which is due to her, in whatever order, must
be a true claim. Thus, if our Lord had answered the
message of the blessed Precursor by a simple affirmation
of His Divine Mission, He would not have made any
unreasonable claim. But as has been said, the order of
Providence was, that the Divine character of His Mission
was to be attested by miracles, and therefore it was to
them that He appealed. But in the arguments of
Christian apologists or missioners or preachers, for such
1 St. John viii. 14.
254 Last Witness of St. John Baptist,
a truth as the Divinity of our Lord, it is perfectly
reasonable to appeal to His own sayings concerning
Himself, and, as it was put some years ago by a great
preacher in France, we must believe that He was God,
because He said it Himself.
In answer to the messengers of St. John on this
great occasion, our Lord did two things. They found
Him, as it seems, teaching the multitude, or they were
taken by Him to be present at such a teaching. The
crowds were thronging round Him, as has been else-
where described, and power or virtue went forth from
Him to heal them all. He took the occasion to work
a number of visible and obvious miracles. ' In that
same hour,' St. Luke tells us, ' He cured many of their
diseases and hurts, and evil spirits; and to many who
were blind He gave sight.' That is, He set before the
messengers of St. John the evidence of His miracles.
This must have struck them with greater force, because
it had not been in the Providence of God that St. John
himself should work any miracle. This evidence of
Divine Mission had been vouchsafed to many of the
ancient prophets, some of whose miracles are only less
wonderful than those of our Lord Himself. But it had
not been granted in the case of St. John, whose mission
was simply to awaken consciences, by the preaching of
known truths of the moral order, and whose great power
lay in the evident sanctity of his life and character, and
in the force of his direct and severe preaching. Thus
the evidence of miracles was kept, in this stage of the
economy of the Incarnation, for our Lord Himself, and
it was afterwards, as we shall see, extended to the
Apostles, even before the time of the Passion. This
then would have been a most cogent argument to be
used by St. John when the messengers returned to tell
him what they had seen and heard, that is, what others
I
Last Wihiess of St. Jo/m Baptist. 255
told them of their own experience as to the miraculous
gifts exercised by our Lord.
But our Lord also added a further proof, which was
in a manner necessary for the completion of that which
was furnished by the miracles. It has been explained
elsewhere, that miracles by themselves may not uniformly
be a perfect proof of the Divine character of a mission,
such as that of our Lord and the Church, unless they
are accompanied by the further witness of prophecy,
which fixes the evidence of that mission. When St, John
had put his question to our Lord in the words used by
the disciples of the former, he had distinctly alluded to
the promises and the prophecies. He had not said
simply, ' Art Thou a Divine Teacher ' — but ' Art Thou
He that is to come ? Art Thou He for Whom we are
looking ? ' These words imply that One was to come,
and they consequently invite a reference to the marks
which were to characterize Him when He did come.
Thus our Lord was enabled by the prudent question
of His Precursor, to add this further confirmation
to the witness of the miracles. He did not do
this in so many words, that is. He did not appeal
directly to any of the many prophecies concerning
Himself, quoting the words of the Prophet, but He
did the same thing in His own way, ever seeking to
exercise humility and meekness, by simply answering the
messengers in the words of one of the Prophets, 'And
answering He said to them. Go and relate to John what
you have heard and seen : the blind see, the lame walk,
the lepers are made clean, the deaf hear, the dead rise
again, to the poor the Gospel is preached, and blessed is
he whosoever shall not be scandalized in Me.'
These words are taken from the prophecies of Isaias,
though they do not all occur in the same place. They
are rather an accumulation of notes of the Messias, as
256 Last Witness of St. John Baptist,
given by the prophet, which would sum up in a con-
venient way his testimony concerning our Lord. In
his thirty-seventh chapter Isaias had described the days
of the Messias thus : ' Then shall the eyes of the blind
be opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped.
Then shall the lame man leap like a hart, and the
tongue of the dumb shall be free, for waters are broken
out in the desert, and streams in the wilderness.' The
other great passage in Isaias, in which the characteristics
of the Messias and His times are described, had been
already quoted by our Lord in His discourse in the
synagogue of Nazareth, on the Sabbath-day on which
He had given His fellow-citizens so much offence by
refusing to work miracles to satisfy their curiosity, and
to put them, as it were, on a level widi the people of
Capharnaum. 'The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because the Lord hath anointed me. He hath sent
me to preach to the meek, to heal the contrite of heart,
and to preach a release to the captives, and deliverance
to those that are shut up.' This is in the sixty-first
chapter of Isaias. The words now used by our Lord,
therefore, are almost entirely taken from the prophet,
though they are not a simple quotation of any single
passage. They would serve the purpose of the Pre-
cursor, if he wished to show in detail that the very works
of which his disciples had been the witnesses, were
exactly those which had been promised as evidence of
the Messias and His Divine Mission, while at the same
time the appeal, so to call it, made by our Lord was not
formally to the prophet himself so much as to the
works of which nevertheless the prophet had spoken.
Thus the twofold witness of works of miraculous power
and mercy, and of the special prediction of those works,
was kept open to the use of the blessed Precursor in his
prison.
Last Witness of St, John Baptist, 257-
It must be remembered, also, that St. John had not
distinctly referred to the prophecies in his message of
inquiry. He had only said, * Art Thou He that art to
come, or do we look for another ? ' For the expectation
of the whole human race, since the Fall, has ever been
for a Deliverer and Redeemer, Even if the prophecies
and promise had not existed, there would always have
been a craving in the hearts and consciences of men for
some One like our Lord. No true idea could be enter-
tained, even partially, of the goodness of God, of the
Power and Wisdom and Mercy which are witnessed ta
by His revelations of Himself in the visible creation and
in Providence, without the suggestion of the hope of
some interference on His part for the relief of the deep-
miseries of the condition of man. Nor could any true
idea be formed of those miseries themselves, without its
jincluding the discernment of the greater gravity of the
loral evils of mankind, in comparison with their physical
ifferings. In this way the diseases and maladies which
licted so large a portion of the human race, and made
jarth a vast lazar-house, were but imperfect represen-
[tations and types of the moral maladies by which the
>uls of men were sick even unto death. Thus the
liseries mentioned by the prophets were very easily
[understood in their moral significance, and the blindness^
[or lameness, or leprosy, or diseases, of which there were
[SO many instances on every side at every time, were
isily taken as figures of the incapacity to see the truth.
For to walk in the path of justice, or to hear the inspi-
rations of God, or the voice of conscience, and so on.
[The whole human race yearned for a Physician Who
might have power to cure its manifold moral diseases^
[far more grievous in themselves than those which afflict
[the body, and calling piteously on the mercy of God
^Who had made the soul which they infected, degraded,-
R 36
258 Last Witness of St. Joht Baptist,
and made its own worst torturer, not perishable like the
mortal body, but endowed with immortality like His
own, the prospect of which was awful indeed if there
were to be for it no healing. He that was to come
must be One Who could do this, whether He came with
physical power of healing or not. In this sense the
words of St. John are for ever sounding in the ears of
the Church, which represents our Lord : ^ Art Thou He
that art to come, or do we look for another ? '
And the answer to the question is to be found in the
power which the religion and system of our Lord have
shown, to heal every sickness and every disease of human
nature and of the condition of mankind. It is found in
the satisfaction that they give to all the cravings of
human nature, moral, intellectual, spiritual, answering
exactly to every woe by an adequate cure. And the
remedies provided by our Lord for all our manifold
maladies are beautifully expressed in the words which
He quoted from the Prophet. The blind see, for the
moral and spiritual darkness is dispelled, and the sim-
plest Catholic child knows more about God, and the
soul, and the conditions of salvation, and the means of
grace, and the Law of God, and the issues of eternity,
than all the philosophers of the ancient world. The
lame walk, for the practice of Christian virtues, and even
of Christian perfection, is easy to those who have the
light and guidance of the Holy Ghost and the Catholic
Church, and the powerful aids and supports of the
Christian sacraments. The lepers are made clean, for
the foul stains and contaminations of sin are continually
washed off from thousands of souls, in the life-giving
waters of Baptism and in the blessed Sacrament of
Penance. Thousands keep the innocence of their
Baptism, and thousands more regain it by the appli-
cation of the Precious Blood of our Lord to souls
Last Witness of St. John Baptist, 259
which have been before defaced by sin. The deaf hear,
for the conscience is quickened, the ears of the soul are
opened to the Christian preaching and the whispers of
the Holy Ghost. The dead rise again, when the soul
dead in sin is restored to spiritual life. And the final
characteristic of His Mission on which our Lord delights
to dwell, that which He sums up in the words, ' To the
poor the Gospel is preached,' proves that* He is He that
was to come.
This last characteristic of the true Mission of the
Redeemer of the world, the One Whom all men expect
and desire, is probably expressed in those words of
Isaias in which our Lord is said to be sent to preach
to the meek, for so it is translated in the passage of
St. Luke in which the quotation is first made by our
Lord, and which relates to His teaching in the synagogue
of Nazareth. For the right dispositions for the reception
of the Gospel teaching are just those of meekness,
humility, gentleness, submissiveness, docility, and the
like, which are the characteristics also of poverty of
spirit, and which are naturally generated, so to say, by
the practice and condition of actual poverty in those
who do not oppose any hindrance to the workings of
grace. For the preaching of the Gospel is with authority,
and this is distasteful to pride and arrogance, such as
are but too naturally the consequences of riches and
independence. Moreover, the whole burthen of the
Gospel teaching is that the good things of this world
are not true goods, that they are even dangers, and
snares, and impositions. This is a truth much more
easily realized by the poor than by the rich. Again,
the preaching of the Gospel involves the doctrine of
the Cross, and this again is more easily received by
those who are not weighted by the heavy chains of the
good things of this world. And, on the other hand, it
26o Last Witness of St. John Baptist.
is characteristic of the Gospel that it is the preaching of
faith, and faith is a gift which belongs to all alike, which
is the same in the learned and in the unlearned, in the
simple and in the cultivated, in the ignorant as in the
philosopher or the man of science — if indeed it be not
actually a difficulty for men trained in the wisdom of
this world to submit themselves to the simple authority
of the teaching of the Gospel. And the preaching which
addresses itself to the poor is always a disinterested
teaching, it cannot be the teaching of men who seek
to profit by it, or who care for the applause and esteem
of men. And any teaching that fulfils the conditions of
the doctrine which is to satisfy the wants of humanity,
must be a simple teaching, one that can be understood
and taken in by the multitude, one which appeals to
faith, and one which is thoroughly unworldly in its
doctrine.
Our Lord adds to the words which seem to refer to
the prophecies in their widest sense, some others which
are entirely His own. He has been setting before the
disciples of St. John the very evidences of His Mission
which He had in vain adduced to the wise and learned
Scribes and Priests of Jerusalem. They had turned
away from Him, and the main ground of their rejection
of this great benefit of God for their salvation was, no
doubt, His apparent want of all great and striking
qualities in the eyes of the world. To the rulers at
Jerusalem He was always the claimant to prophetic
powers Who came from an obscure village in GaHlee,
Who herded with the common people, who had never
learnt in the schools of the Scribes, Who was said to be
the son of a carpenter, and Whose whole demeanour and
bearing bespoke Him only one of the lower people.
Greater trials of the same kind were in store for those
who might be inclined to put their faith in Him. He
\
Last Witness of St. John Baptist. 261
was actually under persecution and proscription, and all
who clung to Him were likely enough to suffer under
the same treatment with Himself. He knew the whole
future, and how the opposition to His teaching was to
grow more and more savage and unscrupulous, shrinking
at no calumny, and fearing no wickedness for the sake
of His destruction. Calvary itself was at no great
distance, and it was well therefore to add to the decla-
ration of the evidences for His Mission, a warning as to
the possible temptations which would soon beset His
followers. There were to be occasions enough of scandal,
not, indeed, to the blessed Baptist himself, but to those
whom he had sent, or to hundreds of others, who were
as yet following our Lord's footsteps, but were in danger
of falling away. As it was in our Lord's time, so it has
ever been in the history of the Church. The victims of
scandal were to be numbered by thousands, and their
fall was to give a prophetic meaning to the warning :
'■ Blessed is he whosoever shall not be scandalized in
Me.'
CHAPTER XIV.
Our Lord's zvitncss to St. John Baptist.
St. IMatt. xi. 7 — 19 ; St. Luke vii. 24, 25 ; Vita Vitce Nostrce, § 53.
The disciples of St. John had now seen for themselves
the wonderful works which were to mark the presence
and Person of the promised Messias, according to the
prophecies, performed by our Lord, and they could not
but be struck with the contrast which existed in this
respect between Him and their own master. The gift of
miracles, so often vouchsafed to the older prophets, and
in later times to the Apostles and other missionaries of
the Gospel kingdom, may perhaps have been withheld
from St. John for this very purpose, of marking the
difference between him and the Messias Whom he was
sent to herald. They went on their way to their master,
their hearts, we cannot doubt, full of astonishment and
joy at the confirmation which so much of St. John's
teaching was receiving at the hands of our Lord. Now
St. John would have the very best possible opportunity
of driving home the evidence which had thus been
rendered to our Lord by His Eternal Father, and so of
preparing for Him the hearts of those disciples of his
own who had remained faithful companions, as far as was
allowed them, of his imprisonment. If it had been in
the counsels of Providence that v/e should have had any
account of these incidents from the disciples themselves
of the Baptist, it is probable that we should have been
told how their hearts burned within them as they sped
I
i
Our Lord^s witness to St, John. 263
on their way back to their master, carrying to him the
tidings at which beyond all others he would rejoice.
St. John spoke of himself, to them or other disciples of
his own, as the friend of the Bridegroom, rejoicing to
hear the voice of the Bridegroom in His loving converse
with His Bride. These gracious miracles of mercy were
like some precious bridal gifts of our Lord to His
Church, showing her Who He was and the riches with
which He was to endow her. It was said afterwards of
our Lord and St. John : ' John did no sign, but all
things whatsoever John said of this Man were true.'^
We may see in this saying, which seems to be quite
incidentally recorded, the effect of the teaching of the
Baptist on the subject of our Lord's miracles. And it is
natural to believe that the disciples shared the joy of
their master, as he expounded to them the Scriptural
evidences which had now been brought home to their
own senses.
Meanwhile, our Lord was bearing His witness to
St. John. He is never to be outdone, as it were, in
charity or in the most refined courtesy, if we may use
such a word of His dealings with His servants and
creatures. If St. John was to speak highly of Him, He
would speak, in His turn, highly of St. John, as He will
at the Last Day confess before His Father and the holy
Angels even the least of His earthly servants who shall
confess Him before men. This is the first great reason,
perhaps, which may be assigned for the conduct of our
Lord in the passage on which v/e are now to comment.
In the words last referred to, our Lord speaks of that
confession concerning His servants which He will make
before His Father and the Angels, as a reason for hope
and courage on the part of those servants in their own
confession of Him before men. But we may well
1 St. John X. 41.
J264 Our Lord's witness to St. John.
suppose that it is also the greatest delight to His own
Sacred Heart to bear such testimony, a thing, therefore,
if we may say so of anything at all, that He looks forward
lo before it is made and rejoices while He is making it.
It is perhaps a mark of the singular eminence and
-dignity of the blessed Baptist among the saints of God,
that our Lord should do for him, publicly and imme-
diately, what He will do hereafter in the presence of the
whole world for all His saints. 'Then,' as St. Paul
5ays, 'shall every man have his praise of God.'^ It is
not often that we find, either in the Ufe of our Lord or in
Sacred Scriptures, any one praised so highly, or in this
way, before his course is run. But it must be remem-
bered, as we shall have occasion to point out more at
length presently, that our Lord seems to be speaking
more of the office of His Precursor than of his personal
: sanctit}^, although the words which He uses certainly
imply his faithful discharge of that office. He says,
indeed, that St. John was no reed shaken by the wind,
but He speaks chiefly of his work, which made him more
-than a prophet, in having to go immediately before the
face of the Incarnate Son of God to prepare the way
-before Him, and to be sent in the spirit and power
'Of Elias.
Another reason is frequently given for our Lord's
praises of St. John — namely, that there might be some
possibility of a mistake, among His own disciples, as to
the motives which had prompted His Precursor in the
•embassy of which we have just heard. It might be
fthought, perhaps, that St. John had doubted concerning
the Mission of our Blessed Lord, and had sent his
message, not so much on account of the messengers, as
for himself and his own satisfaction. It is possible that
.there may have been, among our Lord's auditory, some
2 I Cor. iv. 5.
Our Lord's witness to St. John. 265
persons not higher or clearer in their ideas of St. John's
sanctity than the numerous commentators of later days,
who are ready to see in this question of the blessed
Precursor something like either doubt or impatience.
It is not therefore impossible that our Lord may have
meant, by His testimony to the Baptist, to do away with
any impressions of this kind which may perhaps have
been created. If this was the case, it is at all events
clear that the purpose of our Lord was not directly
expressed, even if it may be gathered from the language
in which He speaks of St. John. The whole passage
reads rather like a glowing eulogy on the Baptist, called
forth from our Lord's Sacred Heart by this last instance
of his faithfulness, as shown in the embassy of his
disciples, and belonging to the same class of Divine
utterances of His to which those rejoicing words of His
may be said to belong, which follow soon after in the
history, concerning the revelation of the mysteries of the
Kingdom to little ones rather than to the wise and
prudent.
' And when the messengers of John were departed and
went their way,' back to their own master, ' Jesus began
to speak to the multitudes concerning John : What went
ye out into the desert to see ? A reed shaken with the
wind ? But what went ye out to see ? A man clothed
in soft garments ? Behold, they that are clothed in soft
garments, in costly apparel, and live delicately, are in
the houses of kings. But what went ye out to see ?
A prophet ? Yea, I tell you, and more than a prophet.
For this is he of whom it is written, Behold, I send My
Angel before Thy Face, who shall prepare Thy way
before Thee. For Amen I say to you, there hath not
risen up among them that are born of women a greater
than John the Baptist, yet he that is the lesser in the
Kingdom of Heaven is greater than he.'
266 Our Lord's wihiess to St. John.
The first part of this eulogy of our Lord on His
Precursor is evidently meant to deny all impressions of
St. John which in any way tended to disparage him. The
two things which our Lord denies concerning him are
that he was like a reed shaken in the wind, and that he
had led the delicate and self-indulgent life of a courtier
— that is, that he was accessible to the influences of
softness and luxury. The desert, especially that part of
it which bordered on the Jordan or on the Dead Sea,
was full enough of reeds shaken in the wind, and as
St. John preached ordinarily in the neighbourhood of
the river, for the sake of the administration of Baptism,
this feature of the tract of country in which he had been
sought by the multitude must have been familiar to them.
But it was not for that that they had gone forth into the
wilderness, no, nor to see a man who had anything of
lightness and instability in his character. Thi^ seems to
be the meaning of the figure which is used by our Lord.
This is one of those expressions of His which passed into
the language, so to say, of His Apostles, and although we
do not meet the exact image in their writings, we find its
traces in such expressions as that of St. Paul, when he
tells the Ephesians that we must not be ' Children tossed
to and fro, and carried about with every wind of
doctrine;'^ or when he warns the Thessalonians 'Not
to be easily moved from their mind, nor be frighted,'*
where he uses the same Greek word which is here found
for the shaking of the reed in the wind. Thus, if any one
had thought it possible for the holy Baptist to have had
his faith 'clouded over,' as modern Protestants speak,
he would have his foolish error corrected at once by the
first words of our Lord concerning His Precursor. The
second thought which our Lord seems to exclude is that
of all softness and luxuriousness of life. But it does not
3 Ephes. iv. 14, 4 2 Thess. ii. 2.
Otir Lord's witness to St, John. 267
seem likely that many of the disciples would have con-
nected such softness with the character of the Baptist.
It is therefore better to suppose that our Lord was
meaning to insist on the exactly contrary character of
the great Preacher whom the people had gone out to
see. It is as if He said : ' You went out to see a man
of great firmness and stability, a man of extreme austerity
of life and food and clothing ; for if you had wished for
instability, like that of the reeds, you would not have
gone so far for that purpose, and if you had wished for
softness and effeminacy, you would have looked for them
in vain in the dweller in the desert. They that are in
costly apparel and live delicately are in the houses of
kings. I suppose, therefore, that you went for some-
thing very different from this. What went you out to
see ? A prophet, you will say. Yes, and more than a
prophet.'
Our Lord then proceeds to explain the prerogatives of
St. John, which raised him above the rank of the
prophets in general. In the first place, he had been
himself the subject of prophecy. 'For this is he of
whom it is written.' Again, what had been prophesied
of him was of a character to raise him above the
Prophets, for he had been described as an Angel, a
special Messenger of God, not only to predict the
coming of the Messias, which was the common office
of all the Prophets, but to do more, to prepare His way
before Him. This was something more than the office
of the Prophets ; this prerogative of his made him the
spedal Precursor of our Lord. Thus among those who
had been born of women no one was greater than he,
and yet, in the last place, the lesser in the Kingdom of
Heaven is greater than St. John.
We may now dwell for a moment on each one of these
praises or prerogatives of St. John in the mouth of our
268 Our Lord's luituess to St. John.
Blessed Lord. In the first place, our Lord is speaking,
not of the personal character or interior sanctity of
St. John, which certainly could not be discerned by the
multitudes who went out to see him, but of his office and
position in the Providential introduction of the Kingdom
of Heaven. That St. John's sanctity was pre-eminent
cannot be doubted, and we have spoken elsewhere of
the gifts of grace which had been bestowed upon him
for the due discharge of his great commission. But our
Lord is speaking of his greatness in the place which he
occupied in the counsels of God for the Redemption of
the world. To this class of greatness belongs the fact
that he was himself the subject of prophecy. Not only
had he appeared, like the other prophets, at the moment
in the sacred history when his work was" to be performed,
but he had been specially promised by the last of the
Prophets before him. Now this is a singular privilege,
for in the whole range of Scripture prediction, wliether
by word or by type, it is our Lord and our Blessed Lady
only, besides St. John, who are thus foretold, except
indeed that we may consider that the position of
St. Joseph in the Kingdom of our Lord was prefigured
by that of the Patriarch Joseph in the land of Egypt,
as related by the author of the Book of Genesis. We
may perhaps find some hints of this kind in Scripture,
but the two great figures in prophecy are undoubtedly
our Lord and His Blessed Mother. And yet we find a
distinct prediction of the mission of St. John Baptist, as
has been said.
The second prerogative of St. John, of which our Lord
here speaks, is the special object of his mission. He
was sent, not simply to predict the coming of our Lord,
but to prepare the way before Him. 'Thou shalt go
before the face of the Lord to prepare His way,' the
father of the Baptist had himself sung on the occasion of
Otn' Lord's witness to St. Jo In i. 269
his naming and circumcision, 'to give knowledge of
salvation to His people mito the remission of their sins,
through the bowels of the mercy of our God, in which
the Orient from on high hath visited us. To enlighten
them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to
direct our feet into the way of peace.' This involves a
great commission, for it has a part of the apostolic office
as well as of the prophetic office. And we know how
well and faithfully St. John had discharged this part of
his commission, and how, as St. Luke goes on to
observe, he had actually prepared the way of our Lord
in that part of the people who were really to avail them-
selves of the salvation which he announced. Moreover,
he had another office to discharge which may be
distinguished from that of simple preparation of the
people for our Lord, in that he had marked Him out and
borne witness to Him, when He had come.
The next part of our Lord's witness to the greatness of
His Precursor consists in His saying about the children
of women, of whom no one had arisen greater than
St. John. Here again it must be remembered that our
Lord is speaking of his office and position, and is not
entering on the subject of the pre-eminent personal
sanctity of St. John. ' Amen I say to you, amongst
those that are born of women there hath not arisen a
greater Prophet than John the Baptist' The phrase,
' born of women,' is a common one for all men, and it
need not be considered of necessity that our Lord uses it
on purpose to exclude Himself, Who was born of a pure
Virgin, not in the usual way of human births, or that
Blessed Virgin Mother herself, who was born in a
different way from all others, by reason of her Immacu-
late Conception. For it is not our Lord's way thus to
speak of Himself when He makes comparisons of this
kind, nor does the pre-eminent grace and position of the
270 Our Lord's witness to St. John.
Blessed Mother of God come into consideration in the
question between the commission of St. John and that of
the other Prophets. It seems natural to think that our
Lord is here repeating, in another and a comparative
form, what He has already said as to the greatness of the
the commission given to St. John, for the purpose of
afterwards, as we shall see, exalting the commission
given to the Gospel preachers and prophets. St. John,
on many accounts which have already been named, is
one than whom no Prophet is greater, for he was in so
peculiar a way the Forerunner of our Lord, the one who
prepared the people for Him, the one who pointed Him
out, the one who had prophesied, so to say, in his
mother's womb, when he leaped for joy at the presence
of our Lord and His Blessed Mother. He has a large
share even in the Gospel preaching, for his preaching it
was that prepared the hearts of men, by penance and
confession and baptism, to receive our Lord. In these
and other things he has no equal, certainly no superior,
in the whole band of great Prophets who have risen up
in the history of the chosen people. He stands between
the two covenants, as it were, crowning the Old Testa-
ment with its very greatest glory, and opening the door
for the New Testament. And yet, our Lord adds,
He that is the lesser in the Kingdom of Heaven is
greater than he.'
These last words, which seem to give the chief point
and meaning to the former language of our Lord, have
been variously interpreted by the great Christian com-
mentators, as it has not been a settled principle among
them that our Lord is speaking of the office, rather than
of the person of St. John. Thus they have seen in some
cases that there is a great difficulty in the two members
of the sentence, when taken together, inasmuch as
St. John is exalted almost beyond all others in the first
J
Our Lord's witness to St, John, 271
of these members, and yet set beneath the lesser in the
Kingdom of Heaven in the second. Thus they have
sometimes explained the difficulty by supposing that our
Lord speaks of Himself in the second member, as the
lesser in the Kingdom of Heaven, because He came
after St. John into the world, and before the public eye.
St. John himself had said that He that came after him
was to be preferred before him. But this mode of
explanation does not fully meet the difficulty, for our
Lord says, not the lesser simply, but the lesser in the
Kingdom of Heaven. The words which presently follow
upon these, in the passage of St. Matthew, serve to con-
firm the supposition that our Lord is here drawing a
contrast between the greatest of the Prophets of the
Old Law, and the lowest offices of the New Kingdom,
and that this is the true explanation of these words about
St. John. Great indeed he was, as compared to the very
greatest of the old Prophets, and yet he belonged, with
them, to the Old, and therefore greatly inferior. Dispensa-
tion. And thus it is that his greatness is almost as
nothing in comparison to the powers and dignities of the
ministers of that New Dispensation, to which indeed he
opened the door, but to which he nevertheless did not
by his office belong.
It may indeed be said, with great truth, that even before
the death of St. John Baptist, the Sacrament of Baptism
had been instituted, and many of the Gospel privileges
had been conferred on souls. But still this had been
done partially and by anticipation, and the whole system
of the privileges of the New Kingdom had not been
established, nor could it be, until our Lord had died
upon the Cross. Thus, to speak of nothing else, St. John
was to go, after his martyrdom for the truth, great Saint
as he was, not at once to Heaven, because the gates of
Heaven were not yet thrown open, even to the dearest
272 Our Lord's witness to St. John.
servants of God, but he was to go to the holy place of
Limbus; a place, no doubt, in which there were no
torments as in Purgatory, but still a place of detention
and of exile. Whereas, when the Kingdom of Heaven
was once founded, the child of a few minutes old, who
had been baptized in the Catholic Church, would fly at
once to the possession of God in Heaven, without any
detention at all. For in the Catholic Church all her
children enter into the possession of the immense
spiritual benefits which have been bestowed upon man-
kind by means of the Incarnation and Passion of the
Son of God, and thus they are all God's children and
members of the Body of our Lord, and have all a right
to the inheritance of the Kingdom of Heaven. Thus
our Lord's comparison is rather between the two coven-
ants, than between the person of St. John and the person
of any other, and He puts the comparison in the most
striking possible light, by taking the very highest of the
Prophets, His own Precursor and familiar friend on the
one hand, and the least in the Kingdom of Heaven on
the other hand. And thus we see there. is no question
here of the personal sanctity of St. John, which has
always been considered in the Church as of very great
pre-eminence indeed, but only of the difference between
even what is highest under the Law, and what is lowest
in the Kingdom of Grace. Nor is it any difficulty that
St. John was himself baptized by our Lord, and so made
a partaker of the benefits of His Redemption, or that
even under the Old Dispensation men could obtain the
gift of regeneration, as they could obtain it under the
dispensations which had preceded the Law, from the
beginning of the world. Because the fulness of the
Christian graces was a gift reserved for the Gospel Law.
Thus, whatever St. John and others received under the
Old Law, or during the time of our Lord's preaching
I
Our Lord's witness to St. John. 273
before the Passion, belonged to the New Dispensation,
and thus it was natural, in a contrast between the two
Dispensations, to speak as our Lord spoke, even of
St. John.
There is another meaning of the words, ' the Kingdom
of Heaven,' which cannot be shut out from many-
passages in which the words are used by our Blessed
Lord, although it has been fooHshly pressed, in an
exclusive sense, by some of the Protestant commen-
tators. This meaning of the words signifies the preach-
ing of the Gospel, and it has been said elsewhere in this-
work that this idea also belongs to the great idea of the
Kingdom of Heaven. If this sense be applied in.
the passage before us, it becomes very easy to see
that our Lord's words convey a very true and important
contrast between the powers which are ordinarily wielded
by the ministers of the Gospel, in their efforts to propa-
gate the faith and to bring men to God, and those
possessed even by great Saints and Prophets before the
estabhshment of the Church. For the Kingdom of
Heaven is now propagated by the special powers of the
Word of God, which St. Paul calls 'the foolishness of
preaching,' by the grace of the Holy Ghost working in
the heart of the preacher, and then in the heart of his
hearers, and by the whole array of marvellous resources-
for the benefit of souls wlAch is suppHed by the sacra-
ments. This short statement does not exhaust the arma-
ment, so to speak, of the Christian apostolate, but it' is
sufficient to indicate this wide subject as furnishing a
further explanation of the words of our Lord. And there
is good reason, in what follows on the words here related,
for considering that our Lord was referring to the powers
of the Christian teacher.
' And from the days of John the Baptist until now, the
Kingdom of Heaven suffereth violence, and the violent
s 36
2 74 ^^^^ Lord's witness to St, John.
bear it away. For all the Prophets and the Law pro-
phesied until John. And if you will receive it, he is
Elias that is to come. He that hath ears to hear, let
him hear.' The first words of this sentence, which is
related in this place by St. Matthew alone, though words
very similar indeed occur at a later period of our Lord's
teaching in St. Luke, mark the position of St. John in
the Divine counsels, both with relation to what had
preceded him, and to what came after him. He is placed
by our Lord at the end of the Old Dispensation, and at
the beginning of the New, and it is made his especial
praise that he has given the first impulse and start, if we
may so speak, to the general movement of souls eagerly
availing themselves of the blessings of the later Dispensa-
tion. ' From the days of John the Baptist until now, the
Kingdom of Heaven is suffering violence and the violent
are bearing it away.' Our Lord's words represent the
Kingdom of Heaven as a great treasure which is being
violently laid hands on by the people, and being taken
away and appropriated by force. Up to that time it was
a hidden or promised treasure, something future and out
of the reach of the generality of mankind. Now it is as
it were thrown open to all, and more than that, a great
impulse or wave of grace has taken possession of multi-
tudes, the force of which carries them over all obstacles
and risks for the sake of obtaining the prey which lies
before them. Now this impulse it is that was the great
work of St. John. It was the effect of his preaching of
repentance. No one of the Prophets had produced such
a movement of souls, though it is probable that they
were far more frequently preachers and reformers of
manners, in the ordinary sense of the term, than simply
foretellers of future events. It is hard to think, for
instance, that the prophecy of Jonas at Ninive was simply
the announcement of a future chastisement of God on
i
Our Lord's witness to St. John. 275
that city. Our Lord contrasts the repentance of the
Ninivites with the coldness and duhiess of the Jews to
His own teaching, and this seems to imply that there
was something analogous in the two teachings. The
treatment which the Prophets received at the hands of
those to whom they were sent, is most easily explained
by supposing that they were severe teachers and
denouncers of the prevalent vices and sins of their
day. But no one of them had produced a reformation
of manners and a revival of religion like that produced
by the preaching of St. John, and he, moreover, was
the close Forerunner of the King of Grace Himself, and
so the movement which he set on foot could be taken
up and carried on by the whole power of the Gospel
Kingdom. This is the incommunicable praise of St.
John. This is the feature in his office on which the pro-
phecies which are applied to him dwell. This is that
which is conveyed in the words of the Archangel when
the birth of the Baptist was announced to his father,
Zachary, and it is that which Zachary himself speaks of
in his canticle of rejoicing after that birth had come
about. Thus, besides being so great in the dispensa-
tion of the Old Law, he is especially, great in the part
which he had to play in the opening of the New
Kingdom.
' For all the Prophets and the Law prophesied until
John,' that is, the Prophets prophesied and the Law
reigned, and guided the people to God, up to the time
of St. John. He was the end and crown of that great
dispensation, of which the Prophets and the Law were
the appointed organs. He broke the silence which had
fallen on the prophetic choir since the days of the last
of the prophets. He began a new and spiritual teaching
in decided contrast to the authorized . teaching of the
Law in the synagogues. His moral teaching was evan-
276 Otir Lord's witness to St. Jo Jin.
gelical. We see its purport in the short specimens of
which St. Luke has been the recorder in the early
chapters of his Gospel. He did not teach with the
same authority as our Lord, but his teaching was
altogether different in tone from that of the Scribes
and Pharisees. He touched the conscience and the
heart, and turned men to confession and to penance.
The words in which the teaching of our Lord, when
it is first spoken of in the Gospels, is summed up,
* Repent, and believe the Gospel, the Kingdom of
Heaven is at hand,' are identical with the words which
summarize the preaching of St. John. In this respect
he belonged to the New Dispensation, as in other
respects he belonged to the Old. Our Lord's words,
therefore, here recorded, signify that St. John put an
end and a crown to the teaching of the Law and the
Prophets, the Dispensation in which they represented
the doctorate authorized by God, and that from him
the new Kingdom began.
* And if you will receive it, he is Elias that is to come.'
This feature in the office and character of St. John was
required in order to fill up the teaching concerning him
which our Lord is here giving. The Jews quite under-
stood the prophecy of Malachias, with which the Old
Testament prophecies closed, but they did not under-
stand that it had two meanings, one literal, to be fulfilled
in the coming of Elias before the end of the world, and
the other figurative and spiritual, to be fulfilled in the
coming of a Forerunner before the face of our Lord in
His first Advent. The words of Malachias were plain,
but they spoke unmistakeably of a coming of our Lord
in power and judgment. ' Behold, I will send you Elias
the Prophet before the coming of the great and terrible
dreadful day of the Lord. And he shall turn the heart
of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the
Our Lord's witness to St. John. 277
children to their fathers; lest I come and strike the
earth with anathema.' There can be no doubt that
these words refer directly to the last Coming of our
Lord, and that they will be fulfilled before that event
by the coming of Elias in the flesh. But they were
commonly understood by the Jewish doctors of the first
Advent, and, indeed, we do not know that they made
the due distinction between the two Comings of our
Lord which are foreshadowed in prophecy generally.
There was another prophecy of the same Prophet
Malachias, to which our Lord has already referred in
the former part of this passage concerning St. John, in
which it is said that an Angel or messenger was to be
sent to prepare the way before His face, and this
prophecy was, as our Lord tells us, directly fulfilled
in St. John. Nevertheless, there was a very true sense
in which the other prophecy also related to him, and,
indeed, it is a general principle with regard to the
anticipations of God's great dealings with man, which
are vouchsafed to us in Sacred Scripture, that they are
in many points identical in their character, and the
words in which one is predicted often adapt themselves
to another.
Thus it is that the characteristics of the mission of
St. John as spoken of by St. Gabriel to Zachary, and by
Zachary himself in his canticle, are taken rather from
the second prophecy which refers by name to Elias, than
from the first prophecy which our Lord tells us refers
directly to St. John. For St. Gabriel says to the father
of St. John in the Temple, ' He shall go before Him
in the spirit and power of Elias, that he may turn the
hearts of the fathers unto the children, and the incre-
dulous to the wisdom of the just, to prepare unto the
Lord a perfect people.' Thus the mission of St. John
was in truth a mission in the spirit and power of Elias,
278 Our Lord's witness to St. John.
and in this sense our Lord declares that he is Elias who
is to come. And at the same time, St. John himself
could truly deny, when he was asked by the Jews, that
he was Elias. He was not Elias in person, but he was
Elias in spirit and mission, and he went before the face
of our Lord, as Elias is to go before the face of our
Lord, only his mission was before the first Advent of
our Lord, and that of Elias is to be before the second
Advent And perhaps on this account it is that our
Lord says, ' If you will receive it,' as if the truth con-
cerning the fulfilment of the prophecies about Elias in
the person of St. John, was not a direct truth excluding
all other interpretations and fulfilments of the same
prophecy, but a fulfilment of that prophecy in a most
true but, at the same time, a secondary sense. Thus
it was not a truth that could be imposed on the unwilling
or forced upon the incapable, while at the same time it
was a truth of the utmost importance, both in itself, and
also because it would remove a difficulty to the reception
of our Blessed Lord Himself, in Whom the prophecies,
as commonly understood, would not have been fulfilled
unless there had been a coming of Elias before His face.
We shall find this very objection afterwards urged by the
Apostles themselves at so late a period as the day after
the Transfiguration, in which the appearance of Elias in
glory had suggested to them the question which our
Lord then answered. And again, we now find our Lord
for the first time, as far as our record tells us, using
His favourite expression to attract the attention of His
hearers : ' He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.'
St. Luke subjoins some words as to which it cannot
be quite certain whether they are his own or a con-
tinuation of the words of our Lord immediately pre-
ceding. They refer to the reception of St. John by
the various classes of the population to which his
Om" Lord's witness to St. John. 279
preaching had been addressed. On the one hand, it
is not often that this blessed EvangeUst allows himself
to make remarks on the conduct of the people of whom
he speaks. On the other hand, it seems unlikely that
these words would have been spoken by our Lord ia
this place, although He uses words not very different
from them, to' the Scribes and Pharisees themselves, ini
the course of His last preaching in Jerusalem, at the
beginning of the week of the Passion. At the time of
His Ministry to which this passage in the Evangelist
belongs, He was not in the habit of openly denouncing
the Scribes and Pharisees in the face of the people.
*And all the people hearing, and the publicans,
justified God, being baptized with the baptism of John,
but the Pharisees and the lawyers despised the counsel
of God against themselves, being not baptized by him.'
These words, as has been said, may be understood aa
the words of St. Luke, commenting on what our Lord
had said of the mission of the Baptist. They are an
explanation, in the simple historical sense, of what had
been said by our Lord about the Kingdom of Heaven
suffering violence and the violent bearing it away. The
people as a mass had welcomed the teaching and
baptism of St John as a Divine visitation, ordained
for their great benefit, and by doing this they had
justified God, that is, they had expressed their faith in
ithe truthfulness of God and in His fidelity to His
promises, by accepting gladly the means of grace which
He had first promised and then provided for them.
The words remind us of what St. John the Evangelist
relates as said by the blessed Precursor himself, ' That
he that received the testimony of our Lord had set his
seal to it that God is true,' that is, had practically
declared by his act the truthfulness of God. So to
r ■" "^'^^
2So Our Lord^s witness to St. John.
had invited His people to penance by the preaching of
St. John, was to bear witness to the justice and goodness
of God in more ways than one. It was to testify to the
justice of God, in providing a way of salvation for His
people. It was to declare that God had not failed in
His promises. It was to acknowledge the fulfilment of
the prophecies. And in those who came to our Lord
after the reception of the baptism of St. John, it was
to declare the goodness and faithfulness of God in
fulfiUing the predictions of St. John himself, about that
One greater than he. Who was to come after him and
to baptize with the Holy Ghost.
On the other hand, to do as the Pharisees and
lawyers had done, that is, to decline to listen to
St. John or to be baptized by him, was to reject, and
to reject out of contempt, the very way by which God
was offering them salvation. It showed the same per-
versity which is so constantly found in Christians who
will, as it were, go to Heaven by a way of their own,
instead of closing with the arrangements made by God in
the Catholic Church. It can hardly be said that it was
a matter of obligation for men to listen to the preaching
of St. John and to humble themselves by confession and
the reception of the baptism of penance. That is, men
could come to our Lord afterwards without these pre-
liminaries, as in fact the great multitudes of the Gentile
converts did so. But it was not the less true that the
Baptism and teaching of St. John were the counsel of
God to the Jews — the plan by which God had designed
the way of their salvation, the foundation of their faith
on humility and the preparation of their hearts for the
coming Kingdom. They turned away in pride, and this
pride and the singularity and independence of provi-
dential guidance which it involved, left their hearts pre-
pared not simply for the non-reception of our Lord, but
The Children in the Market- Place, 281
for His rejection. Their spiritual ruin was already
predetermined, when they refused to submit thankfully to
preparation which God in His loving mercy for them had
ordained. They never could explain at once the Divine
mission of the blessed Baptist, and their own indifference
to that mission. To the very last this stumbling-block
remained, and, shortly before His Passion, which they
were already contriving, our Lord was to reproach them
again for their error.
CHAPTER XV.
The Children in the Market-Place.
St. Matt. xi. 15—19 ; St. Luke vii. 29, 30 ; Vita Vitcs Nostrce, § 53.
The teaching which our Lord had been led to give, after
the departure of the messengers of St. John Baptist, was
still further supplemented by Him, and apparently at the
same time, by some remarks of the manner in which the
men of that generation, as he said, had dealt with
Himself and with St. John respectively. What He had
already said was sufficient to give the highest possible
idea of the dignity and mission of the great Precursor,
and also to establish the perfect identity of purpose
between Himself and St. John. The relation in which
St. John had stood to the teaching of the synagogue, as
well as to that of the new Kingdom, had been clearly
traced. The last remarks of our Lord, or of St. Luke,
on which we have been lately speaking, carry on our
thoughts to the reception accorded by various classes
of the people to the teaching of St. John, and, implicitly,
to their dealing with that of our Lord's also. Our Lord
282 The Children in the Market- Place.
now speaks of the people generally, without making any
distinction between the several portions of the nation.
It is not that there was not some difference between the
common people and the authorities in this respect, as
there had been between the same two portions of the
population in the case of St. John. But, on the whole,
the reception of our Lord was decided for the nation by
the conduct of its rulers, and the people, indeed,
followed these only too readily. It is very likely that at
this time, when the opposition to our Lord on the part
of the authorities had become pronounced and vehement,
the people in general were far less favourable to Him
than before. Thus it is that the whole people seems to
be spoken of in the passage on which we are now to
comment, although there was always a considerable part
of the nation which had welcomed Him at first and was
still faithful to Him.
^And the Lord said, whereunto then shall I liken
the men of this generation? and to whom are they like?
It is like to children sitting in the market place, and
crying one to another, to their companions, and saying.
We have piped to you and you have not danced, we have
lamented and you have not wept. For John the Baptist
came neither eating bread nor drinking wine, and you
say, He hath a devil. The Son of Man is come, eating
and drinking, and you say. Behold a man that is a
glutton and a wine-drinker, a friend of publicans and
sinners. And wisdom is justified of all her children.' ^
The general sense of our Lord's image cannot be
difficult to discern, because He has given so full an
explanation of it in its application to the men of that
generation. He clearly means to say, that they were so
perverse that nothing would satisfy them, and that they
1 It is remarked below that the words 'the Lord said,' at the begin-
ning of this passage, are not found in all of the best manuscripts.
I
The Children m the Market- Place. 283
o
would find fault with every method adopted in the Pro-
vidence of God to win them to penitence and faith.
God adopted, in His wisdom, a different method with
St John and a different method with our Lord. But the
fruit of this condescension and benignity was that each
of His messengers was rejected and found fault with.
As to the particular meaning of the image in itself, it is
not quite easy to follow it. But the difficulty seems to
come from that which is, in another sense, a great gain
to us, namely, the extreme faithfulness of the EvangeHsts
in relating the words of our Lord, which were spoken in
Aramaic, and the force of which was to some extent
alien to the Greek in which we possess the Gospels. We
have noticed a similar difficulty, arising, as it seems, from
the same cause, in the report of the conversation of our
Lord with Nicodemus, where He is speaking of the free
manner in which the Holy Ghost acts on souls. ' The
Spirit breatheth where He wills, and thou hearest His
voice, but thou knowest not whence He cometh, or
whither He goeth.' And then our Lord subjoins, *So
is every one that is born of the Spirit' ^ But He does
not mean that every one who is born of the Spirit has
this perfect untraceable freedom of action, but only that
that is the way in which every act of spiritual regeneration
is carried out. * So it is whenever any one is born again
of the Holy Ghost.' The same remark may be made as
to the beginnings of some of the Parables, where our
Lord says the Kingdom of Heaven is like to this or that,
meaning that there, are features in the character, the
propagation, or in the reception, or in the conduct of the
Kingdom of Heaven, which are analogous to what He is
about to speak of in the parable which follows. Thus
in the case before us, the words taken quite literally, in
our way of understanding, might seem to mean that the
2 St. John iii. 8.
284 The Children in the Market- Place.
men of that generation, of whom our Lord was speaking,
were like the children complaining of their companions
for not either dancing or mourning with them. Whereas
the explanation given in the application of the image by
our Lord, shows us that the complainants, so to speak,
are rather Himself and St. John, or God whose Provi-
dence sent first one and then the other, than the genera-
tion whom they have been unable to move. This is
probably the simple explanation of the apparent diffi-
culty.
Theophylact tells us that there was a game among
the Jewish children, who divided themselves, in the
public places in which they used to play, into two
choirs, as it were, one of which represented the joyous
processions and songs of a marriage festival, and the
other in the same way acted the mourning and
lamentations of a funeral. Then these two choirs
shouted at each other in reproaches like those spoken
of by our Lord, the game consisting in the representa-
tion going on simultaneously and discordantly. In this
case the children who acted the marriage rejoicings,
and the children who acted the funeral lamentations,
would be different sets, and would reproach each other
at the same time. This explanation might suffice, if we
could be quite certain that this game was really played.
Theophylact is a late writer for such a point. Another
interpretation of the passage is that which supposes the
same kind of division among the children, but that they
represent, not our Lord and St. John, but the men of
that generation, who had their own ways of living, some
very austerely and others very laxly, and that the austere
set complained of our Lord for not living as they did,
and the lax set took offence at St. John for not sharing
their laxity. In this way the accuracy of the words as
they stand in the Greek text is more fully preserved than
I
I
The Children in the Market-Place, 285
in the other. It may be noticed, however, that our Lord
does not speak of children playing in the market-place,
but of children sitting still, as if they would not join their
companions in their game, as if they could not agree
among themselves whether it was to be rejoicing and
piping, or mourning and lamentation, and so would do
neither, instead of doing either of the two in union.
But in any case, as has been said, the application of the
image by our Lord is clear.
' For John the Baptist came neither eating bread nor
drinking wine, and you say he hath a devil,' that is, he
came in the way of great penance and austerity, and he
had a right at your hands to all the respect and venera-
tion which are usually bestowed on men of such a
character, who have conquered themselves and their
appetites and speak to you in the Name of God. But
your perversity was such, that you evaded the authority
of this great messenger by saying he had a devil. The
accusation of having a devil is nowhere actually related
as having been made against St. John, but the words of
our Lord are a sufficient authority for the fact. Such an
accusation seems to have been the common way of
getting rid of the influence of any one whose manners
were at all extraordinary, and it was very much the same
thing in the mouths of the Jews as a charge of madness.
It is mentioned at a later period of our Lord's own
teaching, that they said even to Him, ' Say we not well
that Thou art a Samaritan and hast a devil?' But this
may perhaps refer to the more heinous charge which
they made against our Lord, of casting out devils by
collusion with the prince of the devils. There was
nothing in the spotless and beautiful character of
St. John on which malice and calumny could fasten,
and it only remained to his enemies to invent the pre-
posterous charge that he was under demoniacal influence.
286 The Children in the Market-Place,
The charge probably fastened on the great austerity and
solitude of his life in the desert, apart from the dwellings
of men and the common paths of life. His example
may have seemed impossible to follow, nor did he, as
we see from the specimens of his teaching which remain
to us, enjoin on those who sought his advice that they
should think of following it. The marvellous sanctity
of his life and the force of his preaching they could
not deny, and so it only remained to detract from his
personal merit, in order to avoid the acceptance of his
doctrine and of his witness to our Lord.
But, if they objected to the austerities of St. John,
how had they dealt with the very different manners of
our Lord ? Our Lord had from the first adopted the
system of mixing freely w^th men of all classes and con-
ditions, and in order to do this, it was almost a necessity
for Him to appear outwardly to live like the rest of men.
He had fasted for forty days and forty nights, and we do
not read of any excessive rigour of fasting, to this extent,
in the life of St. John. No doubt his ordinary fare was
such as to make his life a perpetual fast, in the eccle-
siastical sense of the term, but, even in this, he did not
probably go beyond the customary rules of our Lord
when He was in retirement and not among the crowds
of men. It is not likely that the common life in the
holy house at Nazareth was anything but one of very
great austerity, but there was no outward sign of this in
the intercourse of our Lord with men. He came, as He
says here, eating and drinking. He did not refuse to be
present at the marriage feast, indeed He made the
marriage feast the occasion of the first, and one of
the greatest, of His miracles. He had accepted the
invitation of the joyous publican Matthew, after He had
vouchsafed to call him to the high grace of the aposto-
late. No doubt there were other occasions of the same
1
The Children in the Mar ket-P lace, 287
)
sort, and one or two such acts, on our Lord's part, would
be noticed and would furnish matter for criticism,
especially as time went on, and He became more and
more an object of suspicion, and even hatred, to the
ecclesiastical rulers and the stricter portion of the
religious society of the day. xA.nd so it came to pass
that the immaculate innocence of Jesus Christ was made
the butt at which shafts of scorn were directed, as if He
had been a man of lax life and of low companionship.
Over and over again has the example of our Lord been
imitated by the greatest of His saints, those especially
who have had the most purely apostoHc vocations,
and they have almost scandalized their friends by their
extreme familiarity and condescension even to notorious
sinners, going into their houses even when the partners
of their sin were present there, and waiting for the
moment of grace to strike at last the blow which was to
set free from their bonds the poor slaves of passion and
lust. ' The Son of Man is come eating and drinking,
and you say. Behold a man that is a glutton and a wine-
drinker, a friend of publicans and sinners.'
The doctrine contained in this passage of the
Evangelists is twofold. In the first place, it is clear that
the different methods pursued by St. John and by our
Blessed Lord were deliberately and most mercifully
chosen by God, for the purpose of meeting different
^^ needs and gaining the attention and affection of different
1^ orders in the community. They were diametrically
^K opposed in outward appearance, and yet each method
^Vwas divinely adapted to meet the end in view. Thus we
^Hhave here the plainest sanction for the various ways in
^B which the Church and the Saints of God have addressed
^B themselves to different classes or nations or generations,
^■carefully studying the characteristic features and the
288 The Children in the Market-Place.
present to them the Gospel truth in a form as little likely
as possible to offend them or to scare them. The
Church has often been taunted by her adversaries with
this versatility, as if it involved a sacrifice of truth or
of principle, and yet her teaching is plainly only a
continuation of the same Divine method which our Lord
speaks of as having been adopted by St. John and by
Himself
No one, certainly, ever knew so well as our Lord the
value of the human soul, or its extreme weakness and
readiness to fly off from the teachers of the truth, when
they present themselves in a garb or guise which in any
way ruffles its prejudices. It is because the Church has
inherited from our Lord something of His own tender-
ness for souls, and something also of His considerate
prudence in approaching them with the holy but severe
truths of the faith and the law of God, that she also
has condescended so much and so frequently to humour
their prejudices, and to win them in the only way in
which they are to be won. She has not considered
her own habitual ways so important as the duty of
gaining men to God. From the very first we find this
method of hers made into a principle by St. Paul and
the other Apostles. The first occasion for its use arose
with the pressing of the Gentiles into the Church.
There at once it became necessary at the same time to
conciliate Jewish traditions, and even prejudices, by
reverencing the law and all thafc belonged to the old
system, which was to be superseded by the new, and yet
not the less to show that the obHgations to be imposed
on Gentile converts were as slight as possible, and that
their liberty was as dear to the Apostles as the traditions
in which they had themselves been brought up.
The whole history of St. Paul is full of the exercise of
this wise versatility. He could eat with the Gentiles and
The Childi^en 171 the Market-Place. 289
allow his Christians at Corinth to go to the banquets of
their Pagan fellow-townsmen, without asking questions as
to the meats set before them, and he could go to the
Temple at Jerusalem and offer the oblation usual in the
case of those who had a vow upon them. It would be
superfluous to point out how this principle has been
acted on in the later Church. It may sometimes have
seemed even to be urged too far in concessions to the
traditions of heathen nations, for the sake of converting
their members to God, but, even if this were perfectly
well estabUshed as a fact, it would only result that
individual zeal may sometimes make mistakes as to the
application of what is in itself a most holy rule.
On the other hand it is clear, in the second place,
that whatever way the Church may adopt for the great
end of gaining souls to God, it is quite certain that she
will never escape the criticism of the world, and
especially of the false religionists by whom she is so
carefully and maliciously watched. The contradictory
cavils of which our Lord here complains are repeated
over and over again in the history of the propagation of
His religion. A long catalogue might be made of these
criticisms, fastening, as in the case of our Lord and His
great Forerunner, on points which contradict each other.
The root of the evil lies in the corrupt heart of man,
any dominant passion in which, if indulged, is enough
to set it against the truth and the severity of God's law.
Self love, pride, sloth, ^a tendency even to the more
refined shades of sensuality, which are by no means
the least mischievous, envy, jealousy, anger, covetous-
ness, in short, any of the many passions, subtle or gross,
tQ which our nature is liable, can create in the heart an
instinctive repugnance to the truth. For the truth is
always an appeal to conscience, and it always awakens,
the self-reproaches which may have been stifled, and.
T 36
290 The Childi^en in the Market-Place,
which require some external call to arouse their vigour.
And, when persons thus appealed to cannot find fault
with the truth itself that is presented to them, they are
driven, almost of necessity, to object to the manner
in which, or the instruments by whom, it is so presented.
Then again, people under these influences, all who do
not live in the light of God's presence and in the practice
of self-examination and self-discipline, are wonderfully
prone to exercise the critical faculties with which they
are endowed on the lives of others, and also on the
conduct of those above them, not excepting the Provi-
dential arrangements by which God seeks to reclaim
them to a better life. It is as our Lord said to Nicodemus,
' Every one that doth evil hateth the light and cometh
not to the light, that his works may not be reproved.'
And when the light is brought to him against his will, he
is ever ready to misunderstand it or to make out that it
is darkness. And the ways of God are not as ours, nor
His thoughts as our thoughts, and thus it is easy for the
unregenerate soul to find excuses for its credulity in some
supposed flaw in the conduct of the messengers of God,
and in the institutions which He has devised for the
benefit of souls.
The words with which our Lord concludes this dis-
course are plainly a sort of . commentary on those
previous words which occur just before the passage on
which we are commenting in the Gospel of St. Luke.
That Evangelist, as we have seert, has added to the praise
of St. John Baptist, in our Lord's words to the crowd
after the departure of the messengers of the holy
Precursor, some words which may either have been
spoken by our Lord, or convey the comment of the
Evangelist himself on the treatment of our Lord and
St. John, respectively, by the Jews and their rulers. The
great reason for considering them as the words of the Evan-
I
The Children in the Ma^^ket- Place. 291
gelist, is that, in the ordinary text which is followed by the
Vulgate version, St. Luke begins afresh after these words,
saying, ' and the Lord said,' and the rest, going on to
relate the words about the children in the market-place.
But it is so unusual for St. Luke to insert anything as a
remark of his own, that many have hesitated to consider it
as certain that the words in question are not the words
of our Lord Himself. The prefatory clause with which
the remarks about the children in the market-place
are introduced is not found in several of the best manu-
scripts. It is at all events most natural to consider the
former words, whether of St. Luke, or of our Blessed
Lord Himself, as receiving their best commentary from
those on which we have now to speak.
'And wisdom is justified by all her children.' Just
before, as has been said, our Lord had said, if the words
are indeed His and not those of the Evangelist : ' And
all the people hearing, and the publicans justified God,
being baptized with John's baptism. But the Pharisees
and the lawyers despised the counsel of God against
themselves, being not baptized by him.' It is natural to
think that the sense of the word to 'justify' is the same
in each of these places. The word to 'justify,' has a
scriptural sense which it has not in the classical Greek.
It means, in Sacred Scripture, to consider or declare just
and wise and holy. Our Lord then says, that in contrast
to the captious critics whom nothing could satisfy or
please, all those who were truly children of the Divine
Wisdom, that is, faithful and simple and docile hearts,
not led astray or forced to find difficulties in every thing
by their own perversity, saw that the counsel of God,
whether in the austere preaching of the Baptist or in the
affable and winning manner in which our Lord addressed
Himself to the people, was wise and holy and con-
venient and irreproachable. They justified the wisdom
292 The Children in the Market- Place,
of God, first in their own hearts and minds and judg-
ments, and then in their practical adhesion to the method
employed for the conversion of the people, by being
themselves first disciples of the Baptist and recipients
of his baptism and then disciples in the school of our
Lord. Instead of making void, or setting at nought, the
counsel of God for their own welfare, they gladly closed
with it, and thus reaped the benefit of the designs of
God. For it was intended in the Divine counsels, as is
often said of the baptism of St. John, that it should
prepare the hearts and minds of the nation for the recep-
tion of Jesus Christ. They got the blessing of the
penance which was taught and insisted on by St. John,
and they got the benefit also of the fuller light and con-
solation, and the abundant graces of the Gospel as
preached by our Lord. Both things worked for good to
them, because they were simple arid humble, not taking
offence at the invitation to penance, and so not biassed
by their own pride and evil conscience against the claims
and authority of our Lord. And their reception of the
Gospel message, and of the graces of the new Kingdom
was the justification of the wisdom of God, in adopting
that method for their conversion. For God never lets
His word go forth and remain unfruitful, and when men
gladly and gratefully cooperate with the means of
salvation which He addresses to them, they give their
witness that those means are such as to gain their end,
with those whose hearts are not wilfully closed against
them.
CHAPTER XVI.
Corozain and Bethsaida.
St. Matt. xi. 20 — 24 ; Vita Vltce Nostrce, % 54.
St. Matthew places at the point of the history which
we have now reached, some striking words of our Lord
concerning the cities in which He had been preaching
and working miracles, which are repeated at a later
period of time by St. Luke.^ The words are nearly,
though not quite, identical in both Evangelists, and we
have to choose between the conclusion that they were
only once said by our Lord, in which case they would
be out of the order of time, either in St. Matthew or in
St. Luke, or that they were said by our Lord more than
once, on occasions not quite identical though very
similar indeed, and both of which would very naturally
have suggested them. It is natural to think that this
last supposition is in itself more probable than the other,
and it is also entirely in harmony with the principles as
to the arrangement of the Gospel narratives which are
followed in this work, and which have been sufficiently
explained in the introductory volume. It is this view,
therefore, of the question as to the difference of the two
occasions on which these words occur, which will now be
followed.
It is very natural indeed that our Lord should have
passed from the reflections which He had made on the
various cavils to which He Himself on the one hand,
1 St. Luke X. 3.
294 Co7'ozain and Bethsaida.
and the blessed Baptist on the other, had been subjected
by the malignant enmity with which certain classes of
the holy nation had received them, to the consideration
of the immense responsibility which had been incurred
by those among whom His voice had been so often lifted
up in vain, notwithstanding the manifold confirmation of
His teaching which His Father had arranged for Him.
He was now adopting a new method, to some extent,
in His manner of addressing Himself to the people, for
He was no longer to be seen in the places where His
enemies were so watchful to hinder His preaching by
their calumnies, and even by their plots against His life.
He was soon to begin a more reserved method of
teaching than before, for we are now on the eve of
the change which He made when He began the more
exclusive use of the system of parabolic teaching. Before
long He would leave that part of the country, in which
He had hitherto preached almost exclusively, and His
former haunts would see Him no more, or only for a
few days or hours at a time. The time had not been
long, either for the ministry of St. John Baptist, or for
His own. He was only now well advanced in His
second year of Galilean teaching, and St. John's ministry,
with all its great results, had not lasted many months.
And yet within that short time, in both cases, a great
probation had been going on. Men had been showing,
as blessed Simeon said to our Lady at her Purification,
' the thoughts of their hearts,' showing what was in them,
by their treatment of the wonderful graces off'ered to
them, first by the preaching of St. John, and then by
the whole Ministry of our Lord Himself And now,
within that short time, the sentence w^as being prepared
which was to be executed in the Day of Judgment.
'Then began He to upbraid the cities wherein were
done the most of His miracles, for that they had not
Corozain and Bethsaida, 295
done penance. Wo to thee, Corozain I wo to thee,
Bethsaida I for if in Tyre and Sidon had been wrought
the miracles that have been wrought in you, they had
long ago done penance in sackcloth and ashes. But I
say to you, it shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon
in the Day of Judgment than for you. And thou,
Capharnaum, shalt thou be exalted to Heaven? thou
shalt go down even unto Hell. For if in Sodom had
been wrought the miracles that have been wrought in
thee, perhaps it had remained unto this day. But I
say unto you, it shall be more tolerable for Sodom in the
Day of Judgment than for thee.'
It is very remarkable, in the first place, that the cities
which are here named by our Blessed Lord are not
those which stand out in the Gospel narrative as the
scenes of His chiefest miracles. So far is this from
being the case, that we do not even know when He was
in Corozain or Bethsaida. Of Capharnaum, of course,
we know a great deal more, but of the others here
mentioned we know nothing. It is a fresh proof of
the great accuracy of the Evangelists, in recording the
words of their Divine Master, that they should insert
these denunciations without any explanation. It is quite
easy for us to see that, as we have so very partial, or at
the best, so very general, an account of the greater part
of our Lord's preaching, that is, of His missionary
circuits, it is just what might have been expected, that
we should fail to know anything in detail, even about
the most conspicuous of His wonderful works in the
course of those circuits. The words of our Lord would
be perfectly intelligible and natural to his companions,
and it is not certain that they were addressed to the
multitudes. They would awaken in Peter, or John, or
Andrew, memories of beautiful and marvellous exertions
of His miraculous powers, which in their minds might
:2g6 Co7V2am and Bethsaida,
have outshone such wonders as the healing of the leper
or of the Centurion's servant, the miracles at Capharnaum,
or the casting out of the legion of devils, or even the
raising of the widow's son. All these miracles are lost
to us, and the very names of the cities which our Lord
has here selected for special reprobation, as having been
most highly favoured by Him, and as having returned
His merciful condescension with the coldest ingratitude,
are to us names and nothing more. The curse of
-oblivion has fallen upon them, and at the Day of
Judgment we shall see the chastisement inflicted on
their inhabitants, for having been bHnd and deaf to the
teaching and miracles of the Son of God, during the
few months which contained His Ministry among them.
Another truth which stands out in prominence from
this passage, is the extreme danger of those who are
offered the great blessings of grace and who turn away
from them. The populations of whom our Lord is now
speaking were not actuated towards Him by that jealous
hatred which burnt in the hearts of the ecclesiastical
rulers of Jerusalem. There must have been some
faithful souls among them, for it is unlikely that our
Lord would work great miracles where there were none
such. The fault of these people was not so much
hostility to our Lord and to His teaching, as indifference
and dulness. They did not lay traps for His life, or
seek to entangle Him in His speech that they might
have some grounds of accusation against Him, but they
turned a deaf ear to His words and shut their hearts
against the persuasive influence of His actions and the
convincing force of His miracles. They were not so
much like the modern persecutors of the Church, as
like the men who live with her system all around them,
and yet utterly ignore her claims on their allegiance,
even when enforced, as they often are enforced, by men
Corozaiii and Bethsaida. 297
of singular sanctity, and even by the witness which
miracles bear to the note of sanctity in her. This is
the case with one member of the comparison, which
is suggested by the words of our Lord. The other
member of that comparison is made up of the men of
Sodom, Tyre, and Sidon, that is, of a heathen popu-
lation, sunk in the lowest moral degradation, a population
famous for little, except for commercial activity, and for
some of the most foul superstitions that were to be
found even in the corrupt Eastern world. Greece and
Rome were low enough in the scale of morality, as
compared to the Jews or as measured by the Christian
standard, but Greece and Rome were pure in com-
parison to Tyre and Sidon. And yet of such a popu-
lation our Lord has said that it would have done
penance long before in sackcloth and ashes, if it had
witnessed the miracles from which the people of
Corozain and Bethsaida had turned away.
And it is the same with the second part of the
passage of which we are now speaking. In that part
the comparison is between our Lord's own city, as it
had come to be called, between Capharnaum, the home
of the Apostles, of Matthew as well as of Jairus, of the
good Centurion, and of others like him, who had rejoiced
the Heart of our Lord by their ready faith, and on the
other hand, the city whose name is a synonym for all
that is most foul and unnatural in the way of lust, for
the greatest degradation of which our poor nature seems
capable. And our Lord says that it shall be more
tolerable for Sodom in the Day of Judgment than for
Capharnaum. Sodom would have been spared if there
had been ten just men within its walls. Capharnaum is
not to be spared the severest judgment, though it must
have had within its walls far more than ten just and
faithful men. It is true that the two judgments are very
298 Corozain mid Bethsaida.
different. One is the temporal and visible judgment
of God upon a great public and common sin, on which
He was desirous of setting the conspicuous brand of
His anger by a destruction and desolation of which the
whole world is witness. The other is the last great day
of account, when human sins are to be allotted each
their own proper and due chastisement for ever. But
the point of the contrast drawn by our Lord lies in the
extreme guiltiness which He attributes to such sins as
the rejection of Divine evidence to the truth of rehgion,
to His own claims as attested by God, and to the claims
of His Church.
Our Lord, then, seems here to tell us that the temper of
indifference and contempt for the Christian and Catholic
proofs, is a worse evil than the foulest sensuality, even
when it goes beyond the promptings of natural lust.
He seems to say that it is more difficult to convert a
proud, cold, self-satisfied indifferentist, than to convert
a Sidonian or a Sodomite. And He seems also to say
that God will hereafter chastise more severely such sins
as heedlessness to opportunities, neglect of grace offered
to us, and, above all, the heretical contempt of the
evidences of the Church, than He will punish the gross
sins of men who have wallowed in every depth of vice
and degraded themselves below the animals. This
doctrine certainly throws a new and ghastly light on
the sins of the intelligence and of the perverse will,
refusing to believe. It shows us how sins that are
commonly considered only omissions of duty, are often
worse, in the sight of God, than the indulgence of the
lower passions. It explains to us the extreme severity,
as it seems to our eyes, of the language of the Saints of
God about heresy and schism, sins which practically
consist in the rejection of the claims of the Church, as
attested by the notes by which God is pleased to dis-
Co7'ozain and Bethsaida. 299
tinguish her from all the brood of false sects around her.
There are men who think that they know much about the
Fathers and Christian antiquity, and who approach very
nearly in many details to the practice of Catholic com-
munities, and who yet persist in turning away from the
duty of considering their ecclesiastical position with
reference either to schism or heresy. This one great
fundamental question they even boast of neglecting
altogether, and they use all their influence with others
to make them also neglect it. It is difficult to see what
excuse can be made in such cases, which could not have
been made for the inhabitants of Corozain and Bethsaida.
But it would be to show little reverence to these
Divine denunciations, to limit our reflections upon them
to thoughts of the unhappy lot of these poor inhabitants
of cities of which no vestige now remains, or of the sad
condition of those outside the Church, who turn away
from her evidences. The dwellers in Corozain and
Bethsaida were in their day, or rather during the few
months of our Blessed Lord's Ministry in Galilee, the
possessors of unexampled privileges which were soon
withdrawn from them. If the judgment of God was to
be so severe against them, how will it be with those
who live all their lives in the permanent possession of
spiritual advantages, more precious to the faithful soul
than the witnessing even of great miracles, and who
nevertheless do not use these advantages for the end
for which God has bestowed them ? The principle on
which God acts in these terrible chastisements is the
ordinary rule of His justice, which requires the most
accurate correspondence to any special graces which He
bestows, either on communities or on individuals, and
Who most strictly exacts an account of the use of such
blessings, an account which issues in dreadful punish-
ment for those who have despised them.
Co7^ozain and Bethsaida.
This principle is founded on the truth of the immense
value of Divine grace, and of the infinite condescension
of God in vouchsafing to interfere, as He does, with the
ordinary laws or conditions of His Kingdom for the
sake of revealing Himself more fully to His creatures,
and of furnishing them with grounds for belief in the
messengers to whom He entrusts His dispensation of
mercy. We have this principle and this truth insisted
upon frequently by our Lord Himself in His parables,
so many of which contain the warning of the extreme
danger of the neglect of a Divine invitation. In pro-
portion to the dignity of the truths which are revealed
in any particular case, and of the persons to whom the
message or revelation is entrusted, is the guilt of those
who do not attend to the summons, and the punishment
of their disrespect to Him Who sent them. Such
persons are always spoken of by our Lord as if there
were no hope for them in the future, as if the grace
which they have passed by would not return. Thus
also St. Paul, in his Epistle to the Hebrews, insists most
strongly on the danger of falling off after having been
once enlightened. ' Looking diligently,' he says, ' lest
any one be wanting to the grace of God.'^ He mentions
the case of Esau, who sold his birthright, and who after-
wards, when he desired to inherit the benediction, was
rejected, finding no place of present change, though with
tears he sought it. And then he reminds them that they
are not come to a mountain which might be touched and
a burning fire, and the other circumstances or adjuncts
which made the scene on Mount Sinai so terrible. ' But
you are come to Mount Zion, the city of the living God,
the Heavenly Jerusalem, and to the company of many
thousands of Angels, and to the Church of the First-
born, who are written in the heavens, and to God the
2 Heb. xii. 15.
Rejoicing of the Sacred Heart. 301
Judge of all, and to the spirits of the just made perfect,
and to Jesus the Mediator of the New Testament, and
to the sprinkling of Blood that speaketh better than that
of Abel.' And after this grand accumulation of witnesses,
he adds : ' See that you refuse Him not that speaketh.
For if they escaped not that refused Him that spake on
earth, much mere shall not we, that turn away from Him
that speaketh unto us from the heavens.' ^
CHAPTER XVIL
Rejoicing of the Sacred Heart.
St, Matt. xi. 22—30 ; Vita Vitce Nostrce, § 54.
After the passage in which he has related the upbraid-
ings addressed by our Lord to the cities which had been
the scene of His most marvellous miracles, St. Matthew
inserts another passage which naturally supplements the
former, in which he tells us of the rejoicing of our Lord,
and the words in which that rejoicing was expressed.
This beautiful incident in the Life of our Lord seems
naturally to follow on the severe language in which He
had been obliged to speak of the coldness and obstinacy
with which those whom He had favoured so much
received the evidence of His Divine Mission. But it
was not always so. The great work of the Incarnation,
for the redemption and elevation of the human race, has
been received with miserable ingratitude by the larger
portion of that race which were represented by the
impenitent populations of Corozain, Bethsaida, and
Capharnaum. But it has not been wrought by God in
s Heb. xii. 25.
302 Rejoicing of the Sanded Heart.
i
vain, nor have His designs been defeated by the malice 1
of the devils or the hardness of the human heart. On
the contrary, the work of the Public Life, which seemed
to end in failure, and which was rejected by the very '
nation which He called His own, was nevertheless most
successful and consoling in the eyes of our Lord Him-
self. He rejoiced in spirit, and His tender Heart had
always an immense fund of inextinguishable joy, resting
in thought on the countless souls who closed with His
gracious offers, and to whom the merits of His Passion
were to be abundantly applied. This view of the facts
is necessary, as has been said, as a complement of the
other, and thus it is quite in accordance with the prin-
ciple which guided the first Evangelist in the arrange-
ment of his work, that the passage on which we are
about to comment should be placed by him where it
has been placed.
The question may be raised, whether it is here in its
exact place in the order of our Lord's Life, as the similar
question has been raised with regard to the passage
immediately preceding it. But it seems almost certain
that both passages are in their right place in each of the
Gospels in which they occur, though in St. Luke the
words belong to a later portion of the Life of our Lord.^
They belong to that class of the utterances of our Lord
which He was almost certain to repeat more than once.
The miserable punishment of those who witnessed in vain
His miracles, and on whom His teaching by example
and word fell without effect, was being incurred almost
daily, by different persons, as He passed from one part
of the Holy Land to another. And in the same way,
His Sacred Heart was always finding its consolation and
joy in the simple and humble souls who corresponded
t o His grace. ■ It is clear that a great part of the Gospel
i St. Luke X. 21.
Rejoicing of the Saa^ed Heart. 303
of St. Luke is, as we have so often had to say in these
volumes, the record of a course of preaching of our
Lord which had been passed over by the earUer Evan-
gehsts, and the scene of which was, in the main, the
country parts of Judea, properly so called, instead of
Galilee. It is in this part of the Gospel of St. Luke
that we find these occasional repetitions, which have
been so often misunderstood by commentators, as if the
passages of St. Luke were merely the records of incidents
which had already been recorded in their proper places
by St. Matthew and St. Mark. On the contrary, the true
view of these passages is that St. Luke chooses delibe-
rately to put on record incidents which happened in
that, the second great portion of our Lord's public
preaching, which were similar to incidents which had
also occurred during the first portion of that preaching
on which we are now occupied; thus showing us, in
truth, that the reception which our Lord had met with in
Galilee was practically repeated when He came to pass
into the southern portion of the Holy Land. It cannot
be considered unlikely that when our Lord found the
same spirit in the second part of His preaching which
had met Him in the first part. He should complain in
the same words which He had already used in Galilee,
and that, on the other hand, He should express also in
Judea that joy of His Heart, and that thanksgiving to
His Father, which is here mentioned by St. Matthew as
belonging to the period of the Galilean preaching. This
seems to be the simple explanation of the apparent
difficulty, and it is quite sufficient to justify the arrange-
ment of the several passages which has been followed in
the text.
' At that time Jesus answered and said^ I confess to
Thee, Father, Lord of Heaven and Earth, because Thou
hid these things from the wise and prudent, and
304 Rejoicing of the Sacred Hea7't.
hast revealed them to little ones. Yea, Father, for so
hath it seemed good in Thy sight.' The word which is
here rendered by the English verb 'confess,' means, in
the Greek, acknowledgment, approval, thanksgiving, and
even a sort of ratification and praise. All these affec-
tions seem to be required to make up the full meaning
of what was in the Sacred Heart when these words were
uttered. It is almost as if He had said, ' I see how it is,
I mark the working of Thy hand and of Thy wisdom, I
delight in it, I give Thee thanks for it, I am content and
more than content with it, I praise it, I concur in it, I
bless Thee for it, I would not have it otherwise, and it is
all this to Me because it is Thy choice and Thy work.'
There is no disappointment, then, in the Heart of our
Lord. He grieves over those who are unfaithful, for they
are bringing down on themselves judgments, to which
the chastisements of Sodom and Gomorrah are but as
nothing. But He adores the justice and the wisdom of
the Providence of His Father, Who has willed that so it
should be — that His portion of mankind should be those
whom He calls little ones.
Every word in this loving prayer of acknowledgment
has its deep meaning, and seems to be chosen for pur-
poses some of which can be traced by us. He calls
God His Father, and at the same time Lord, for He
speaks as the Incarnate Son of God, the Redeemer of
the human race, in His Human Nature, the subject and
the servant of His Father. But He speaks also in His
Divine Person, possessing the fulness of the Divine
Nature in common with the Father and the Holy Ghost,
and thus there is a tone of authority and of equality
with His Father in the words which He uses. They
would sound too great in the mouth of one of the
saints. And our Lord calls His Father Lord of Heaven
and Earth, words which express in the Scriptural way the
Rejoicing of the Sacred Heart. 305
universal dominion and sovereignty of God over all His
creatures. Moreover, it is quite open to us to see in the
words, ' Lord of Heaven and Earth,' a reference to that
law of God's government which had been put into execu-
tion, not only on earth but in Heaven itself, that law of
which His Blessed Mother's Heart was full when in her
Magnificat she broke out into the praise of God ' Wha
hath put down from their seat the mighty, and hath
exalted the humble.' This law came into operation when
men were exalted into the place of the fallen angels, but
it was also exemplified in Heaven itself when the proud
angels, Lucifer and his followers, were cast out, and the
humble Michael and those who followed him in his.
humility, were exalted to the highest seats in the King-
dom of God. Thus it is the Lord of Heaven and Earth,
the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Who has enacted
this law, of which the different issues of the Gospel
teaching in different souls is a further exemplification.
What has been done in Heaven and on earth already,.
what will be done in both until the end of time, that is
the Law as to which our Lord now expressed His joy and
thankfulness, for its working as appHed to the various
classes of men whom He has before His mind.
' Because Thou hast hid these things from the wise
and prudent, and hast revealed them to little ones.'
These words contain the matter for which our Lord
rejoices and gives thanks. The Father, the Lord of
Heaven and Earth, has hid these things from the wise
and prudent, and has revealed them to little ones. What
are the things of which our Lord speaks as hidden to
some and revealed to others ? It seems impossible that
they can be any other things than those of which He-
has lately been speaking. He has been speaking in this-
place of the rejection of the evidences of His Divine
Mission, as attested by miracles, which nevertheless had
u 36
3o6 Rejoicing of the Sacred Heart.
been unproductive, in certain classes of the community,
of that repentance which was necessary as a preliminary
to faith. The whole Gospel message is contained in these
things, the mysteries of the Kingdom, as He says else-
where, the truth that God has sent His Son into the
world to redeem it, that Light has come into the world,
that the Kingdom of Heaven is among them. These
things have been hidden from the wise and prudent, the
men of learning and the men of practical action and
of acquaintance with the world. Our Lord calls them
by the name they would give themselves, the name by
which they went in the estimation of the world, as in the
same way He told them that He had not come to call
the just to repentance. They were neither truly wise
and prudent, nor truly just, but such was the common
opinion concerning them, and their own opinion. Nor
were those whom He calls little ones really such in
comparison to the others. For they were indeed greater,
and of higher stature, than the former in the sight of
God, though not in their own.
The persons of whom our Lord is speaking as the
wise and prudent were principally the Scribes and Phari-
sees, and all those who shared their pride and obstinacy,
or who followed their guidance. The persons of whom
He speaks as the little ones are, on the other hand. His
disciples in the largest sense of the term, in which it
includes all those who in any way, and to any extent,
gave in their adhesion to His teaching. And He thanks
His Father and rejoices in spirit because God has
hidden the truths concerning Him from the one and
revealed them to the other. These words may be under-
stood in two ways. In one sense they signify that our
Lord rejoices and gives tlianks because, the proud and
wise being rejected, God had revealed these things to
the little ones \ in which case the cause of joy and
Rejoicing of the Sacred Heart. 307
thankfulness is mainly the revelation to the little ones,
and only incidentally the concealment of the mysteries
of the Kingdom from the wise. In this sense our Lord
does not directly rejoice over the rejection of those from
whom the Divine truths are concealed, but only in the
revelation to others in their place. Or the words may
be taken to mean that He rejoices in both acts of the
Divine Providence alike, in the act of justice, whereby
the wise and prudent were left unenhghtened, and the
act of mercy whereby the secrets of the Kingdom had
been revealed to little ones.
In each and both of these divisions of Divine Providence
there was something whereby the glory of His Father was
enhanced. There is always matter for praise when any
great attribute of God is made more clear. In the case
of the wise and prudent, God most justly denied to
them the extraordinary grace whereby they might, even
yet, have been brought to believe, because He saw the
hardness of their heart and the obduracy of their will,
which made them unfit to receive so great a grace. They
had received and abused many graces, and God acted
justly in refusing them more. In this case then His
justice was displayed. In the case of the little ones,
although they had not, like the others, abused the graces
they had received, still they had no right or claim, as of
justice, on the graces which would enable them to
believe, and thus the bestowal of the graces was an act
of the mercy of God. Thus St. Paul, in the great
passage in which he speaks of the reprobation of the
Jews and the election of the Gentiles, acts of justice and
of mercy respectively, which correspond exactly to the
[rejection of the wise, and the choice of the little ones,
in the lifetime of our Lord, breaks out, ^ See then the
goodness and the severity of God. Towards them indeed
that are fallen, severity, but towards thee, the goodness
o
08 Rejoicing of the Sacred Heart.
of God, if thou abide in goodness, otherwise thou shalt
be cut off.'- And we learn from the same Apostle, to
remember that it is not alone the justice and the mercy
of God that are made manifest in this Gospel of His
Providence, but also His wonderful wisdom, as He
breaks out again at the end of that discussion about the
Jews and Gentiles, ' Oh, the depth of the riches of the
wisdom and of the knowledge of God ! How incompre-
hensible are His judgments, and how unsearchable are
His ways. For who hath known the mind of the Lord, or
who hath been His counsellor ? Or who hath first given
to Him, and recompense shall be made him ? For of
Him, and by Him, and in Him, are all things, to Him
be glory for ever, Amen.'^
Moreover, it was a matter of thanksgiving to our
Lord when God took His part against His enemies, as
well as when He favoured by His grace those who were
His friends. And the Heart of our Lord could not but
be grateful for the one as well as for the other. Moses
had said in the name of God, when he had predicted
the advent of our Lord as the Prophet like unto him-
self, that incredulity to the preaching of that Prophet
would be avenged by God, ' And He that will not hear
His words, which He shall speak in My Name, I will be
the Revenger.'* Our Lord said to the Pharisees Him-
self, ' If you believe not that I am He, you shall die in
your sins.'^ The judicial bHndness which God permitted
to overwhelm them was an act of vengeance on His part,
vindicating the injuries which they had lavished on His
Son, sent into the world to redeem them and enlighten
them. The simple faith of the Httle ones was an act of
grace on the part of God to them, of blessing on the
work of His Son, and of consolation to His Sacred
Heart. Thus in each case there was a benefit, for which
2 Rom. xi. 2. 3 Rom. xi. 33. •* Deut. xiii. 19. ^ St. Johnviii. 24.
I
f
Rejoicing of the Sacred Heart. 309
our Lord could rejoice and make thanksgiving — not that
He loved vengeance, or desired the punishment of His
enemies, but that He could thank. God for the love to
Himself, and the care for His Name and for His glory,
which the act of justice involved. And in the case of
the enlightenment of the little ones, that was an act
whereby He was singularly glorified and consoled, and
so again He could rejoice and give thanks for it to His
Father. In this sense, then, the words of the passage
before us have their fullest and most instructive meaning.
* Yea, Father, for so it hath seemed good in Thy
sight.' That is, as it seems, our Lord passes by the
justice, and the avenging of His Name and the vindica-
tion of His Mission, He passes by even the great conso-
lation of the Redeemer of mankind in the possession of
the simple and humble souls whom God had given Him,
and He rests His joy above all on the will and choice of
His Father in making this arrangement of His Provi-
dence. For He came not to do His own will, but the will
of Him Who sent Him. He always did the thing that
pleased Him, and whatever pleased the Father, that was
His delight. Dearly as He loved the souls of men, He
did not love them more than the will of His Father,
and He loved them because it was the will of His
Father that He should love them. And whenever a
heart that has any of the true fire of charity in it, con-
templates the twofold issues which are of necessity to
come, some in one way and others in another way, from
the offering of the magnificent bounties of God to
creatures whose wills are free, and who are thus left to
make their choice between Heaven and Hell, God and
" His enemies, there must be this single love of the will of
God above all things, to give true peace to that heart.
The angels who tend the children of men, do all their
loving services to us for the love which they bear to
3IO Rejoicing of the Sacred Heart.
Godj and to us for the sake of God, and when their
charges win Heaven or when they fail of their great
enterprise, they are aUke happy, because they love only
the will of God. ' Yea, Father, for so it hath seemed
good in Thy sight.' And there is the same peace and
tranquil rejoicing in the hearts of apostolic men, even
when they see their efforts defeated, and the objects of
their care led astray. They do not rejoice in the evil
which sinners bring upon themselves, but they rejoice in
the working out of the glorious and most loving counsels
of God, whether in the way of mercy or in the way of
justice.
And thus it must be remembered that, after all, the
rejoicing of the Sacred Heart of our Lord, and the
rejoicings of the blessed angels and of the saints, are
grounded indeed upon the glory to God which results
when the proud are rejected and the humble are chosen,
and yet still more, as is clear from these words, upon the
knowledge that all this has come about in consequence
of the free choice and decree of God. It is the will of
the Father, the good will, the good pleasure, as it is
variously termed in Sacred Scripture, with which the
hearts that are most devoted to Him are most closely
united, and, more than all other hearts, the Heart of the
Incarnate Son. The whole of the Providential govern-
ment of the world is an exercise of the free choice of
God of which the same Scriptures are full, and in which
He displays His wisdom, His power, His condescension.
His tender compassion, as well as His holiness and His
justice. But the issues of this choice present themselves
to the saints, and all who can read them aright, as the
decisions of His adorable will, whether they bear ex-
ternally the character of prosperity or adversity, failure
or success, subjects of natural mourning or natural joy.
The display of His great attributes in the course of His
Rejoicing of the Sacred Heart. 3 1 1
Providence may be variously apprehended in this or that
of His decrees, but there is never any difficulty in recog-
nizing those decrees as the work of His will, and the
hearts that love Him the best love His will above all
things, and have the holy and blessed instinct of seeing
it in all things, and of rejoicing in that more than all.
' All things are delivered unto Me by My Father, and
no one knoweth the Son but the Father, neither doth
any one know the Father but the Son, and he to whom
it shall please the Son to reveal Him.' These words
seem to explain what are these mysteries of the Kingdom
which are hidden from the wise and prudent, and
revealed unto little ones. ' The mysteries which the wise
do not know, and which the little ones perceive, are the
Divine Mission and Office which are entrusted to Me.'
Our Lord said afterwards, in the great prayer to His
Father which He made just before the beginning of His
Passion, that * this is eternal life, to know Thee the only
true God, and Jesus Christ Whom Thou hast sent.'^
That is, to know God and to know the mystery of the
Incarnation. The words which He now uses concerning
the delivery of all things into His hands, may be under-
stood either of the Divine Nature, or of His Sacred
Humanity. For as God the Father communicates
eternally to the Son the whole Divine Nature, He
delivers to Him all things, the dominion of all things,
along with that Divine Nature itself. But the context
seems almost to require that these words should be
understood directly of the Divine Person of the Son in
His Sacred Human Nature, in which all things are
delivered to Him in order that all things may be restored
through and by Him. This is the sense of similar words
in other places of the New Testament, as when St. John
says, 'The Father loveth the Son, and hath given all
6 St. John xvii. 3.
3 1 2 Rejoicing of the Sacred Heart,
tthings into His hand.''^ Or as when, in the prayer of
'vour Lord already mentioned, He says, 'As Thou hast
given to Him power over all flesh, that He may give
eternal life to all whom Thou hast given Him.' Or, as it
is explained by St. Paul in his own way in the Epistle to
the Ephesians, * That He might make known to us the
Mnystery of His will, according to His good pleasure,
which He hath purposed in Him, in the dispensation of
.the fulness of time, to re-establish all things in Christ
that are in Heaven, on earth, in Him.' ^ That is, that
■God hath made Jesus Christ, the Saviour and Restorer
<of mankind, the reconciliation between Himself and
them, their Mediator, their Teacher, their Physician, and
their Redeemer. This is the character in our Lord which
the little ones acknowledged, and this is the character
which the wise and foolish denied Him. The little
ones, to use the words of St. John Baptist, said to Him
in their hearts, ' Thou art He that art to come, and we
do not look for another.' But the wise and prudent did
not say so. They were always questioning the truth that
He was He that was to come.
This, then, seems to be the sense in which our Lord
here says that all things are delivered to Him by His
Father. And yet this sense does not exclude another,
in which the connection of these word^ with those which
immediately precede them is insisted on in this way —
that the perfect union of the Father's will with the will
of our Lord, His entire submission to the decrees of
Providence, His joy at whatever those decrees might
exact, simply because that decision embodied the will of
His Father, became, as it were, a fresh reason why all
power should be placed in His hands as the Son of
Man. St. Paul tells us that our Lord ' was heard (in His
Prayer in the Garden) on account of His reverence,' ^ as
7 St. John iii. 35. « Ephes. i. 9, 10. ^ Heb. v. 7.
Rejoicing of the Sacred Heart, 3 1 3
if the perfect submission with which He prayed was a
reason for granting all that He asked. And so here, our
Lord has no sooner declared His joy in the carrying out
of the decisions of His Father's choice, because it was
His choice, than He declares also that He has received
an absolute and entire power to make known His Father
to whomsoever He will, as the Father has an absolute
and entire power to make Him also known to whomso-
ever He will. And this meaning of the words corres-
ponds to a great truth in the spiritual life, namely, that
those who abandon themselves entirely to God's will,
who make that will the great object of their love and
their joy, have in return a most marvellous power of
impetrating in prayer whatsoever they ask, as if the will
of God became theirs, because they have made their
own will His.
*And no one knoweth the Son but the Father, neither
doth any one know the Father but the Son, and he to
whom it shall please the Son to reveal Him.' No one,
indeed, can know our Lord, except, as He said after-
wards to St. Peter, the Father shall reveal Him to him.
In this sense the little ones who had known our Lord
had learnt their knowledge from the Father, and this
teaching concerning the Incarnate Son is spoken of by
our Lord as the giving of certain souls to Him by His
Father, as that drawing of souls to Him by the Father
of which He said soon after this, ' None can come to
Me except the Father, Who hath sent Me, draw him, ' ^^
and in other similar words at other times. But it seems
as if our Lord was not here so directly speaking of the
revelation of Himself, made by the Father, as of the
commission which He had Himself received to make
known the Father to mankind. This is a second part of
that great commission which He had just spoken of,
10 St. John vi. 44.
314 Rejoicing of the Sacred Heart,
when He said that all things had been delivered to Him
by His Father. He was entrusted with the work not
only of the redemption of the world by His Incarnation
and Passion, but also of the enlightenment of the world
by His teaching, personal, and through His Church.
Thus He does not speak of the revelation of Himself
by the Father as the only means by which He could be
known to men, true though that doctrine would have
been, because, in this place, He is setting forth that part
of His Mission which consisted in the manifestation of
the Father to whomsoever He would. For the revelation
of the Father is not due to any one as a matter of right,
it is a free gift of the Incarnate Son to those to whom
He chooses to make the gift. ' No man,' says St. John
*has seen God at any time. The only-begotten Son,
Who is in the bosom of the Father, He hath declared
Him.'ii
This, then, is the great boon which the little ones have
received, and which has been denied to the wise and
the prudent, the knowledge of God communicated to
them by our Lord Jesus Christ, after they have believed
in Him and accepted Him as the Messenger and
Ambassador of God. This has been hidden from the
wise and prudent, by the just judgment of God, and
revealed to the little ones by the munificent mercy of
God. The words of our Lord go on further, for they
go on both to promise the revelation of God to all who
will come to our Lord, and to set aside the possible
gloss that there had been something arbitrary and capri-
cious in the selection of some for the favour of enlighten-
ment, and the rejection of others from that favour.'
*Come to Me, all you that labour and are burthened,
and I will refresh you. Take My yoke upon you, and
learn of Me, because I am meek and humble of Heart,
11 St. John i. 18.
L
Rejoicing of the Saa^ed Heart. 3 1 5
and you shall find rest to your souls, for My yoke is
sweet, and My burthen is light.'
Before explaining further in detail the sayings of our
Lord in this great passage, it may be well to note that
it is a continuous declaration, on the part of Himself
and His Father, of the conditions on which the know-
ledge of the mysteries of the. Kingdom, in the sense
already explained, are to be imparted to men. It is
true that our Lord begins with thanking and praising
His Father for the rejection of the wise and prudent,
and for the revelation of the things of which He is
speaking to little ones, and He goes on to assign as
the cause, both of this distinction between the two
classes, and of His rejoicing therein, the free choice of
His Father. But then He adds that there is the most
perfect union and harmony between Himself and His
Father as to all this distribution of the good things of
the Kingdom, for all things are delivered unto Him by
His Father. From this it follows, that if one person
among the multitudes to whom His preaching is
addressed has these good things and another has them
not, it is because He has imparted to the one these
blessings and has not imparted them to the other. It
is the Father Who reveals Him to men, and it is He
Who reveals to men the Father. He has said before
that those, from whom these things were hidden, were
the wise and prudent, and those to whom they are
revealed are the little ones. But how can any one place
himself within either of those two different classes ? Is
it a simple arbitrary act of our Lord that makes the
distinction, choosing some and rejecting others vv^ithout
reasons furnished by themselves ? No, for to belong
to either of these classes is within the reach of any.
For the wisdom and prudence which are bars to the
reception of the revelation of the Father, are not true
1 6 Rejoicing of the Sacred Heart,
wisdom and prudence, but pride and self-sufficiency for
which those who labour under these defects are respon-
sible. And the littleness and humility which are, as it
were, the passports to these privileges, are qualities
which are denied to none who seek them.
Thus we reach the doctrine that the one great need
on the part of those who would profit by the teaching of
our Lord concerning His Father, is the consciousness
of the poverty and misery of our own condition, the
sense of the need under which we lie of help and
restoration by Him. We are told by some of the
Fathers that the time of our Lord's coming was delayed
so long, in order that men might learn by experience
their need of Him, as if they would not have been so
likely to accept His teaching if they had not before
learnt this. In the same way, the preaching of the
Baptist was the divinely ordained preparation for Him,
and, as a matter of fact, those who did not feel the
weight of a burthened conscience driving them to the
confession of their sins, which was the great fruit of
the teaching of St. John, did not come to our Lord for
the relief of their own needs, and, in the end, ranged
themselves against Him. Those who did feel their own
needs were fit for His school, they were ready to take
up the yoke which He laid on them, and submit to the
burthen of the obligations, both as to belief and practice,
which He insisted on. He speaks of refreshment and
rest for their souls as the fruit of their submission to
Him, on the condition of a yoke which was indeed, both
positively and comparatively, sweet, and a burthen which
in the same way was light. But the proud and self-
satisfied do not feel inclined to put themselves under
any yoke or to take up any burthen, for they think they
are as well off as they wish to be, as they are. The
sense of need and misery makes the souls, in which it
Rejoicing of the Sacred Heart. 3 1 7
is found, ready for any conditions on which they may
be offered reHef and rest. They will come willingly to
our Lord, for He promises them those things of which
they are in need. As soon as they take up His yoke
by submitting to His commandments. He enlightens
them in reward for their obedience, and they come to
be made capable of that knowledge of His Father and
Himself, in which is eternal life.
Thus, in this great outbreak of ineffable charity, our
Lord seems to have first before His mind the distinction
which He had been drawing between the wise and
prudent and the little ones who had, in truth, come
to Him. Those who had come to Him had done so
in great measure because they felt the need of Him, and
those who had rejected Him had done so because they
were not conscious of their own needs. There is also,
as it seems, in His mind the contrast between the Old
Dispensation and the New, the difference between the
hard ways of the Law, with those who felt themselves
to labour, and to be burthened, and the sweet and easy
ways of the Gospel system which was to be founded on.
His sacrifice of Himself for man. But He does not
speak severely of the old system, which had been
established by His Father to prepare the people for
Him, and which was to be fulfilled, not swept away
violently, by the Gospel and the Church. Thus there
is no contrast formally expressed in words, as in the
former sentences. Our Lord only asserts the sweetness
and lightness of His yoke and His burthen, and invites
all who feel themselves to need relief to come to Him
and find refreshment and rest to their souls. There is
great force in the words of His promise, and they also
contain a silent comparison. For the Law^ did not give
perfect rest and refreshment to the penitent sinner, who
found that refreshment, as in the case of David in his
3i8 Rejoicing of the Sacred Hem^t.
Psalm of penance, in the thought of the acceptableness
before God of a broken and contrite heart, and in the
application of that precious Blood which was foreshown
by the hyssop, more than in the external atonements
provided by the Law. For he says, 'If Thou hadst
desired sacrifice, I would indeed have given it, with
burnt offerings Thou shalt not be dehghted. A
sacrifice to God is an afflicted spirit, a contrite and
humbled heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise. '^^ That
there is some reference to the Law and its imperfect
provisions for human need, is suggested by the use of
the word yoke, which is applied, both by St. Peter and
St. Paul, in this sense of the bondage of the Law.
St. Peter used it in the speech to the Council of
Jerusalem when there was question of putting on the
Gentile disciples the obligation of observing the Mosaic
Law. 'Now, therefore,' he says, 'why tempt ye God,
to put a yoke on the necks of the disciples, which
neither our fathers nor we have been able to bear?'^*
And St. Paul uses the same expression in his argument
to the same purpose to the Galatians, bidding them
*be not held again under the yoke of bondage.' ^^ It
is very likely that the use of the word by St. Peter came
from his remembrance of this very saying of our Lord.
But at the same time the meaning of the words of which
we are speaking must not be limited to the comparison
between the two Dispensations of God. For there are
a thousand forms of labour and of bondage which are
not included in the burthensomeness of the Jewish Law,
which, after all, was not imposed on the larger portion
of the human race, to the whole of which our Lord is
now offering rest and refreshment. But it will be well
to devote the next chapter to the consideration of all
that may be included in these Divine words.
^ Psalm 1. 19, 1^ Acts xv. 10. ^ Galat. v.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Sweetness of our Lord's yoke.
St. Matt xi, 28—30 ; Vita Vitce Nostrce, § 54.
It is the characteristic of the system of our Lord,
that no form or effect of human misery can He outside
the sphere of its heaUng power, and that it heals all, not
by hiding or covering them up, as it were, or by making
people forget them, but by turning them into joy. It
may be that the perfect accomplishment of this is only
to be carried out in the next world, but it is at least
begun in a true manner in this. Now, then, that our
Lord has declared that all things are placed in His hand
by the Father, He proceeds to invite to Himself all that
can be in need of relief. It is not this or that person
that is invited, but every one who can come under the
category of those who labour and are burthened. Labour
and fatigue and weariness and discomfort — for all these
things may be considered as signified by the first of the
words which our Lord here uses — are internal and
personal experiences or states, while a burthen of any
kind is something mainly external, imposed on us from
without. But the first of these things may well be the
effect of the second. It is the burthen that we have to
bear that makes us feel our state laborious and weari-
■ some. Thus it is not necessary to seek for a distinct
classification of the evils to which we feel ourselves
subject under these two several heads. Our Lord may
have had in His mind the description of human life in
320 Sweetness of our Lord's yoke.
the Book of Ecclesiasticus -.^ 'Great labour is created
for all men, and a heavy yoke is upon the children of
Adam, from the day of their coming out of their mother's
womb, until the day of their burial into the mother of
all. Their thoughts, and the fears of their hearts, their
imagination of things to come, and the day of their end,
from him that sitteth on a glorious throne, unto him that
is humbled in earth and ashes : from him that weareth
purple and beareth the crown, even to him that is
covered with rough linen ; wrath, and envy, trouble,
unquietness, and the fear of death, continual anger and
strife. And in the time of rest upon his bed, the sleep
of the night changeth his knowledge. A little and as
nothing is his rest, and afterwards in sleep as in the day
of keeping watch. He is troubled in the vision of his
heart, as if he had escaped in the day of battle. In the
time of his safety he rose up, and wondereth that there
is no fear. Such things happen unto all flesh, from man
even to beast, and upon sinners are seven-fold more.
Moreover, death and bloodshed, strife and sword, oppres-
sion, famine, and afflictions and scourges, all these things
are created for the wicked, and for their sakes came the
Flood.'
These sentences of the Wise Man sum up more or
less what may be called the burthens and toils of life,
and it is remarkable how large a part in the picture is
given to the apprehensions of evil and calamity, and the
unrest of conscience, anticipating future evils worse than
those which are upon it now. And when all things are
revealed at the day of account, it may well be that we
shall be astonished to see how much the toil and hard-
ships of life have been aggravated, to those whose con-
science is not at peace, and who have not the light of
the faith, by the questionings and surmises as to the
1 Ecclus. xl. I — 10.
Sweetness of our Lord's yoke. 321
future, as to the coming Judgment, to which conscience
bears witness, as to the means of getting rid of the sin
with which they have to reproach themselves, and the
terrible eternity which must be so evil, if it be not good,
which haunt the men who bear themselves so bravely in
the world, and who speak or write so contemptuously of
the cowardly and foolish superstitions of the children
of the Church. These anxieties about the unknown
future, which are intensified by that consciousness of
the possession of an immortal soul of which the most
sceptical find it hard to divest themselves, are merciful
pains left in such souls by the goodness of God, Who
w^ould fain make them enter into themselves, and learn
not only their own labour and burthen, but the ways He
has provided for ridding them of both. On the other
hand, the mere physical sufferings to which human flesh
is heir, such as pain and disease, and infirmity of every
kind, and the hardships which are involved in the
natural condition of our lives, such as poverty, or heat,
or cold, or hunger, and the evils which result from the
unequal distribution of the material things of this world
are not counted up here by the sacred writer, although
they make the life of so large a portion of mankind a
life of continual drudgery and struggle against need.
For these things are not really inconsistent with happi-
ness and a light heart, and they are only made into real
evils by the absence of faith in God, and of the resig-
nation and detachment from temporal things which are
but reasonable in any thoughtful person who under-
stands his position in the order of God's Providence.
These corporal miseries are great in their degree, and
they have not been uncared for by our Lord in His
provision for the needs of mankind, as has often been
said here. But the troubles and anxieties which are
sketched out in the passage lately quoted are far greater,
V 36
32 2 Sweetness of oitr Lord's yoke.
jind they oppress the mind and the imagination of the
most cultivated and civilized of societies. In our own
days they are making greater havoc than ever of the
happiness of mankind. For, just in proportion to the
boasted progress of false philosophy, and of the science
which uses the partial discoveries of modern times to
the destruction of faith instead of to the glory of God, is
the influence gained by the poison of scepticism and by
that most miserable state of thought which is a negation
at once of God and of all the most certain and brightest
ho]Des of humanity, together with the sense of moral
obligation and responsibility, which in the mass of men
is the only restraint upon the lowest passions. But
though men may be persuaded by all this false teaching
to violate their own consciences, they can never be
persuaded that the future of those who so live is perfectly
safe. And for one person who persuades himself, or
thinks he persuades himself, to give up religion and
make light of the law of conscience, there are scores
wliom the sceptical literature and teaching of the day
throw into the most agonizing doubt and perplexity,
•without altogether convincing them. And if such persons
look around them for some authority, speaking in the
xiame of God, to guide them in the darkness, they are
met by a score of pretenders to the one true throne of
doctrine, each contradicting and reviling the others. The
result is a condition of mental and moral misery, which
is but poorly concealed by affected scorn of religion, or
by the feverish excitement and laborious dissipation in
which the modern world strives to escape from itself
It is true that the Catholic Church still stands forth
before the world, as the One Body which possesses, or
€ven claims to possess, the attributes of the Spouse of
Christ, as set forth in the ancient creeds. Many of the
disciples of these false Churches, who have inherited
Sweetness of our Lord's yoke. 323
their position rather than chosen it for themselves — for
who would chose, for instance, such a creed as that of
Anglican Protestantism for himself? — do their best to
stay the tide of infidelity, and write and speak mourn-
fully of the decay of faith. They forget that they them-
selves and their false religions, which of necessity oblige
their adherents to join in the thousand calumnies by
which the Church is assailed, are greatly responsible for
the state of thought in the society around them, because,
as far as in them lies, they invalidate or obscure the
evidence for the true Church, which alone can give
satisfaction at once to the mind and to the heart. They
prevent men from submitting to the Catholic Church,
and they have nothing to give them instead of her. For
however dull men may be about other things, they are
most keen of sight and acute in their perceptions of
inconsistencies, if they can find any, in what is presented
to them as on the authority of God. It is related of
St. Francis Xavier that he was astonished to find the
bonzes in Japan able to bring up the subtlest objections
of the scholastic disputants against the truths of the
Faith, and he thought that the devil himself must have
inspired them in their cavils. Men of the world at once
understand the hollowness and incoherence of imperfect
and self-conflicting schools of opinion, which set up
private judgment under the name of Antiquity, and
appeal to authorities which can never speak for them-
selves, which argue on Catholic grounds with Noncon-
formists, and on Protestant grounds with Catholics,
which profess to look to one standard of faith, and yet
admit of doctrines directly contradictory to one another
in the same pulpits on successive Sundays. But outside
the range of the not unwilling sceptics, who are so much
helped on by the opposition to the CathoHc Church on
the part of those who claim to hold her doctrines and
324 Sweetness of our Lord's yoke.
even to imitate her forms of sacred worship, without
obeying her authority, there is a large and ahiiost count-
less mass of good but perplexed souls who do not wish
to disbelieve in revelation, but who are sorely bewildered
by the self-contradictions of those who profess to teach
in the name of our Lord. And in other cases the same
intellectual difficulties are the excuse for much moral
delinquency, and men are encouraged by the uncertain
teaching of the day to think that, after all, they may as
well give in to the profanity mentioned by St. Paul, and
say to themselves, ' Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow
we die.' This is the direct and natural tendency of
the most aggresive schools of philosophy in our time,
although the teachers themselves are very angry when
the truth is pointed out to them. Their disciples quite
understand them, and a considerable portion of their
popularity is owing to this. But their teaching makes
the life of thousands miserable, who see in that teaching
enough to raise doubts, but not enough to satisfy the
mind.
Another great source of misery, which comes under
the same head of labour, weariness, fatigue, and which
makes life a burthen to many, is found in the truth that
whenever there is a false or even an imperfect religion,
there is also to be found an amount of mental and moral
slavery which has no parallel in the kingdom of Truth.
It is needless to say how true this is of all the heathen
religions, which have been invented by the enemies of
God and man for the purpose of deluding the souls
which they hate with so bitter a hatred. We are apt to
forget, commonly, that these false religions still hold in
bondage the greater part of mankind. And there is no
one of all these contrivances of Satan which is not
marked by his peculiar characteristic of cruelty, and by
encouragement directly given to the indulgence of the
Sweetness of oitr Lord's yoke. 325
most shameful lusts, which indulgence is constantly made
parts of the worship of such religions. They all slander
God and degrade man, and many of their precepts and
doctrines are at variance with the natural law or with the
soundest moral instincts of humanity. And thus it is
difficult to believe that any thoughtful man who follows
the law of his conscience, can find his mind at peace
in such systems. It is among them that are to be found
the most hideous superstitions, the most tyrannical forms
of priestcraft, the most abominable rites and incantations,
the most inhuman sacrifices. The best and most beau-
tiful parts of heathenism are shown to us in what remains
to us of the poetry and philosophy of Greece and Rome,
for these works of genius embody the natural cravings of
the human mind and heart after what is good and noble,
after redemption from its miseries, after a knowledge of
the truth as to itself and its God. We look back on
these remains from the vantage ground of the faith, and
we see how they witness at once to the goodness of God
in His dealings with His fallen creatures, to the existence
of ancient though half-obliterated traditions and even
promises of relief, and to the sadness and mournfulness
of all who were best, even among the naturally bright
and brilliant Greeks, and the firm, strong, and law-loving
Romans.
And what has been said thus in the fewest possible
words of heathenism, as we know it commonly, may be
said in due measure of all the imperfect forms of
Christianity outside the Catholic Church. Putting aside
their inconsistency in their appeal, when they do appeal,
to antiquity, and in their explanation of the history of
the Church of which they profess to form a part, they in
any case defraud the soul of a great many helps and
consolations which are a portion of the true system
devised by Him Who knows all the needs of man, for
326 Sweetness of ottr Lo7'd's yoke.
the support and relief and happiness of the children of
God. We have constant witness to this truth in the
complaints, even of the highest Protestants, that their
religion has deprived them of many of the sacraments of
which they feel the need and the beauty ; that they are
cut off from the communion of saints, that they are
discouraged in their natural instincts to pray for the
faithful departed, and the like. Unchristian creeds have
a whole array of the most burthensome and cruel super-
stitions, and partially Christian creeds, if creeds they
can be called, are constantly felt to curtail the provisions
with which God has armed His Church for the very
purpose which breathes in these loving words of our
Lord, the consolation and relief of the soul. The
conditions of salvation are made harder, and the
teachers of these false sects, like the Pharisees of whom
our Lord spoke, bind heavy burthens and lay them on
men's shoulders, but do not lift a finger to help them to
bear them. They exact obedience in matters in which
no priest of God would venture to assert personal
authority, and they force the most terrible truths upon
frightened consciences without the corresponding doc-
trines and promise of mercy with which the Church
accompanies them. Thus, in our own time and in our own
country, we have had men preaching almost in so many
words the irremissible character of sin after Baptism to
populations utterly ignorant of the Sacrament of Penance,
and again, the necessity of confession as the one condition
of remission, to persons who have been brought up, accord-
ing to the undeniable teaching of their own religion, to
consider the Sacrament of Penance as a modern corrup-
tion. It is certainly a hardship to souls which our Lord
does not mean them to have to bear, when they are told
in the same breath that their own system does not, as a
matter of fact and practice, provide them with what is
Sweetness of our Lord's yoke. 327
essential for their spiritual comfort, and also that they
must on no account emancipate themselves from that
same system, because it is the one true Church of Jesus
Christ.
These last remarks lead us naturally to the considera-
tion of another most serious head of human misery and
labour, that, namely, which consists in the consciousness
of sin and the inability to get rid of it. Here again it is
probable that many a man who braves it out with his
friends, as if he was almost proud of his sins, is eaten up
at times by secret remorse of conscience, from which he
knows not how to deliver himself. We hear every now
and then of the conspicuous death-bed conversions of
professed infidels, and it cannot be but that, for one of
which we hear, there are scores of which no record
reaches us. And these men themselves witness to the
truth of this. For they bind themselves beforehand by
solemn pledges not to give way, as they deem it, under
the terrors of death, and they watch by the dying beds
of their confederates with as much eagerness as a Sister
of Charity might watch, only that she would watch for
an opportunity of suggesting thoughts of penitence and
hope, and they watch for the diabolical purpose of
excluding every visitor or friend, however near and
dear, who might help the poor soul to make its peace
with its God. The sister must not come to the dying
brother, the child to the dying father, the wife to her
husband, lest some word of loving piety might light up
the smouldering spark of long-stifled faith into a tiny
flame, which might be fanned by the ministrations of the
Church, and so defeat the expectation of the fiends
already gathering round their prey. What are all these
Satanic precautions but witnesses to the difficulty of
drowning in utter silence the voice of conscience ? The
men who give themselves up to justice rather than bear
328 Sweetness of oitr Loj^d's yoke.
about in their own hearts the burthen of an undiscovered
crime, are other witnesses to the universality of the truth
that an evil conscience is its own most cruel punishment.
Sin may be got rid of in two senses, as when the sinner
is delivered from the guilt of his sins by the pardon
conveyed in absolution, or when he is further delivered
from the tyranny of habitual sin by receiving grace to
amend his life. In each case a great burthen is cast
away, a life which before was oppressed and toilsome is
made light, joyous, and easy, at peace concerning the
rpast and full of hope for the future. But men cannot
do this for themselves, unless they are capable of an act
of contrition, and of using the appointed means of
reconciliation and recovery which our Lord has pro-
vided, and here again all imperfect forms of Christianity
are unable to give peace to the soul in the way He has
devised. So men drag about with them the conscious-
ness of their past sins; they struggle intermittently, and
with very feeble success, against the bad habits and
dispositions which still remain in their souls, and they
have indeed need of some One who will give them
refreshment and peace.
And lastly, at the end of this catalogue of the burthens
of human life, we must place what are in truth great
burthens to those who have not the light and grace of
the Catholic Church, and which are not without their
wearisome effects on those who have those blessings.
These are the physical evils of life inherent in the normal
conditions of human existence, in its present fallen state.
Such are the sufferings which come from natural weak-
ness and feebleness, infirmities, sickness, the tortures
which are inflicted by some diseases, the sufferings which
men have to endure from the rigours of climate, the
violence of the elements, and the like. " These sufferings
are the lot of a very large portion of the human race, and
Sweetness of our Lord's yoke. 329
of some they are the lot ahiiost from the day of their
birth to the moment of their death. In many cases they
are the consequences of sin and self-indulgence on the
part of the parents of those who are so afflicted, and
they are aggravated by the hard social condition under
which they find themselves, by no fault of their own.
It is easy to forget their existence if we choose to shut
our eyes to them. The man in the full command of his
faculties, bodily and mental, does not of necessity reflect
on the unmerited boons which he enjoys, while others
are without them, nor does he know the miseries caused
to others by the want of these things, of which he makes
hardly any account, and for which he never gives thanks
to God. The rich never think what it would be to be
like the great majority of their fellow-creatures, to live
from day to day without any certainty of food for the
morrow, for themselves and their children. We do not
consider what a misery it would be to be deprived of the
use of our eyes or ears by disease, or to live the living
death which is the only life of so many who suffer from
chronic and incurable maladies. And yet this kind of
existence is the only life that many men know. Those who
live in temperate climates and in countries which inherit
the acquirements and inventions of the civilization of so
many centuries, are little aware of the hardships which
beset existence in other parts of the world, where men
have to be constantly at war with the wild beasts to keep
them down, or where, for example, the Arctic winter
reigns for so many months in the year, and where life
can only be supported under conditions which reduce
men almost of necessity to a level with the animals. In
such regions the most joyous and luxurious moments of
life are such as would seem torments to any men but the
races that are accustomed to those climates, and who
know no more of the gifts of nature than such as their
330 Sweetness of otci^ Lord's yoke.
own hard lot provides. And to all these miseries must
be added those for which man is himself responsible,
such as the evils of wars and invasions, the strife of
nations and the ambition of rulers, powerful enough to
overwhelm whole countries at a few days' notice with
bloodshed and devastation, in which all the fiercest and
most savage passions are freely indulged. The miseries
that are thus let loose on humanity — and they are
certainly not less in civilized and Christian times than in
any others that have preceded them — are usually felt the
most by the weakest and poorest members of the com-
munity, at least by those who have had but little share
in causing the quarrels which have occasioned them.
They are most truly the scourges of God, as much as
the plagues and famines which He sends from time to
time to chastise the world. Under this head also come
the miseries which are the result of the unequal con-
ditions of the various classes in society, which are often
aggravated almost beyond endurance by the hardness of
heart of the rich and powerful, the unnatural overcrowd-
ing of great cities, and other social tyrannies which make
the struggle for life among the destitute almost like that
which might ensue between a number of wild animals,
driven by the rising of a great flood to the narrow
summit of a mountain. And besides the miseries to
which human life is heir on account of the present
conditions of our existence, there are others which are
brought on each person, or each family, or community, by
themselves, or their members. For the whole particular
Providence of God is an administration of holy discipHne
and chastisement, or of sufferings sent by way of warning
or precaution, and these cannot but require much virtue
and patience, much intelligence of the ways of God, to
enable men to bear them as they ought to be borne.
All these heads may be supposed to come under the
Sweetness of otir Lo7^d^s yoke. 331
general description of the state of the world by our
Lord, when He speaks of men as labouring and being
burthened. The sufferings and toils are very various in
character, physical, moral, social, intellectual, and the
first requirement for their alleviation is light, by means
of which men understand what they are and from Whom
they come. Thus it is very natural indeed that our
Lord should subjoin this invitation of His to the words
which have gone immediately before about the revelation
of the Father, which it is in His power to make to whom
He will. His mission in the world is thus described by
the father of the Blessed John Baptist in the words with
which the Benedictiis concludes : ' To enlighten them
that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, and to
guide our feet into the way of peace.' Men are aware
that they are being dealt with by God in the Providence
which rules their lives, and they judge of Him, accord-
ingly, as much by that as by what they have been taught
concerning Him as a part of their religion. Oar Lord
does not merely shed light in upon the souls of those
who are wearied and heavily burthened in all these
various ways, for He pours balm into their wounds and
supplies them with food for their support and strength.
But the process begins, it may be said, with enlighten-
ment, and this whole process of enlightenment may well
be called the revelation of His Father.
If we take tl\e different burthens of men, one by one,
the whole lower range of the evils of which we have been
speaking, those which are chiefly physical and temporal,
are not so directly relieved by our Lord, except in the way
of enabling men to see that they come from a Father's
hand and are a discipline of love, and in that other way
also, which consists in the working in the world and in
society of the principles of charity and benevolence of
every kind for love of Him, on which working He reHes
332 Sweetness of our Lord's yoke.
largely for the justification of the government of the
world. With regard to the moral miseries of sin, the
remorse of conscience for the past, the dreary antici-
pation of inevitable and unending punishment, and the
painful and most laborious struggle against sins of habit
and the like — all these are relieved directly by our Lord,
both by His teaching, and by the grace which He applies
through the sacraments, and in answer to prayer. The
more purely intellectual troubles of which we spoke first
in this enumeration, and which in many cases are the
most painful of all, while in others they become
encouragements to moral delinquencies, are cured in
their root by the light of faith, which sets at rest the
troubled questionings of the soul. The evils of false
and imperfect teachings are removed in the same way,
and, at the same time, the mind is filled with peace as
well as light, and the hard burthens and obligations of
the false or imperfect religions which have usurped the
place of authority in the soul, are supplanted by the
gentle and sweet obligations of the Gospel Law. In
every department of human existence which has been
made hard, bitter, sour, constrained, and toilsome, by
the conditions under which life had to be fought out
without our Lord, the fruit of His rule is best described
by His own words of rest and refreshment.
Our Lord does not profess to do all this for men
without certain conditions on their part,^ conditions very
natural for Him to exact, and such as no one who was
not foolish could refuse, if he really felt his need of
deliverance from the many miseries which surround his
life. The two sentences in which our Lord's invitation
are conveyed, answer, one to the other, as the strophes
of a stanza of poetr}'. First He says, ' Come to Me,'
and in the second place, ' Take My yoke upon you and
learn of Me,' and then, on the other hand, He promises.
Sweetness of oilv Lord's yoke.
OOJ
first of all, ' I will refresh you,' and in the second place,
' You shall find rest for your souls.' Thus men are
invited to come to Him, that is, to take on them the
yoke of our Lord and ' to learn of Him,' and they are
promised refreshment and rest for their souls. The
word yoke has been understood by some as signifying
that we are to take up a burthen which is borne by
another as well as by ourselves, that other being our
Lord. It is true that in a great number of particulars
our Lord does bear our yoke with us, and His com-
panionship in the hardships of this valley of tears is the
greatest possible consolation and support to us, as well
as the source to us of infinite graces. And when we
put ourselves under the yoke which He lays upon us,
we unite ourselves to Him and have nothing to bear
which He does not bear with us. But the simple
meaning of the words in this place seems to be, that
we are invited to submit ourselves to the rule which
our Lord lays upon us, as those who show themselves
subjects by putting on the yoke of their masters. And
as the miseries from which we are to be delivered are
miseries of the mind and intelligence as well as of the
will, the yoke of our Lord is twofold, the subjection of
the intelligence to the rule of faith, and the submission
of the will to the law of God.
And again, as to the second clause of this invitation,
when our Lord says, ' Learn of Me, for I am meek and
humble of Heart,' the words may be understood either as
suggesting His meekness and humility as a reason for the
submission which our Lord requires of us, or as indi-
cating the subject-matter of the lesson which we are
to learn, that is meekness and humility of heart. The
words 'learn of Me,' seem certainly to imply that it
is the example of our Lord which we are to study, at
least as if this were the way by which the taking up
00
34 Sweetness of oicr Lo7^d's yoke.
His yoke was to be accomplished. In this sense, the
first condition for the subjection to His yoke of which
He speaks, is the learning of Him to be meek and
humble of heart. In this way the two interpretations
can be combined into one, if we first learn of our Lord's
example the virtues of meekness and humility, and then
go on in His school to learri all the other parts of
what He calls His yoke and His burden. And thus
we come to the truth, that humility is the one first
condition of admittance into the Kingdom, though,
after men are once admitted, they have a number of
other virtues to learn, and a number of truths to accept
by the submission of faith, besides these principal con-
ditions of meekness and humility, and it is certainly
true that these qualities make every thing easy in the
rule of our Lord. They make it easy both for the
intelligence to let itself be made captive in the glorious
bondage of faith, and for the will to bend to the yoke
of the law of God. Thus the invitation may be under-
stood, 'Come to Me and learn of Me meekness and
humility of heart, and, when you have gained those
virtues, all other parts of My teaching and of My rule
will be easy to you, and you will find rest to your souls,
for to such persons My yoke is sweet and My burthen
is light.' In the same way it is said in the Psalms,
*The Lord is sweet and righteous, therefore shall He
give a law to sinners in the way, He will guide the
mild in judgment, He will teach the meek His ways.' ^
The rest to the soul which He promises, is thus some-
thing conditional on the obedience of those who come
to Him, and the lesson which they learn first of all, as
a foundation for everything else, which He has to teach
them, is the lesson of His meekness and humility of
heart. Without these, men are not capable of entering
2 Psalm xxiv. 8. 9.
Sweetness of oilt Lord's yoke. 335
His school, and so they cannot receive the rest and
refreshment which belong to the observance of H'
Commandments. There can be no peace where there
is not order, and the only way of securing internal order,
and so peace to the soul, is obedience to law.
Our Lord may have had in His mind the words of
the Psalm, in which the law of God is spoken of as so
delightful, ' The law of the Lord is unspotted, convert-
ing souls, the testimony of the Lord is faithful, giving
wisdom to little ones. The justices of the Lord are
right, rejoicing hearts, the commandment of the Lord
is lightsome, enlightening the eyes. The fear of the
Lord is holy, enduring for ever and ever. The judg-
ments of the Lord are true, justified in themselves. More
to be desired than gold, and many precious stones, and
sweeter than honey and the honeycomb.' ^ In this
and other passages it is remarkable, again, how much
the light and joy of the soul are made to come from
obedience, which is, in truth, the great condition of
enlightenment, while the light which it engenders brings
with it peace and delight in the practice of the Com-
mandments, as the Psalmist goes on to say, ' For Thy
servant keepeth them, and* in keeping them there is a
great reward.' Thus the consideration of the reward of
obedience as set before us by the light of faith, as well
as the knowledge which our faith supplies to us of the
character of God and of our Lord Himself, go far
towards making the obedience which we practise easy
and light. Moreover, the keeping of the Command-
ments brings ever fresh grace to the soul, and this is
a part of the sweetness and lightsomeness and delight-
fulness of which the Psalmist speaks. For a yoke is
sweet if it is known to be reasonable, if we understand
that it is put on us out of love, and in consideration of
3 Psalm xviii, 8—10.
33^ Sweetness of our Lord's yoke,
our own greatest good, rather than for any other motive,
and if we are able to enter into the beautiful designs of
God in forbidding what is hurtful to us and enjoining
what is, in itself, even apart from His commandment, a
source of happiness and spiritual strength.
We here touch on the greatest of all the differences
which have been made in the condition of men by the
work of our Lord on the earth. It is most true that the
commandments of the Lord are sweet, and that they
fully deserve all the praises which are given to them in
the passage from the Psalm just now quoted. And yet
it is most true also that we owe an immense increase in
this sweetness and graciousness of the law, as it is set
before us, to the personal Presence of our Lord among
us. It is no longer simply a law, a commandment, a
testimony, judgments, justices. Our Lord's invitation is
not to His law, but to Himself It is always, ' Come
unto Me, take My yoke, learn of Me,' and the like.
He has clothed Himself with our poor nature for this
very purpose, made Himself one of us, and learnt by
experience all the miseries and difficulties of our con-
dition, and by His own touch has made them tolerable.
The invitation comes to us winged with all the intense
beauty and attractiveness of the Sacred Humanity. The
life to which He invites us is a continual personal inter-
course and companionship with Himself We are first
to throw ourselves into the arms of His infinite love and
compassionateness, and only after that are we to take
His yoke upon us. All our steps, in the way of His
service and of our own salvation, are guided and sup-
ported by Him. We receive no grace except by com-
munication with Him, the cleansing of our souls is the
application of His precious Blood, the strengthening of
our spiritual life is the feeding upon Him, the path along
which we are to walk has already been stamped for us
k
Sweetness of our Lord's yoke. 'XiZl
by His footsteps, showing us where to plant our own.
He is all around us in the Church, He Hves in us and
we in Him, and especially in all matters in which there
is something hard, something of the Cross to be borne,
we have His example and His strength to make the
burthen as light as He promises us it shall be.
These thoughts prepare us for the concluding words
of our Lord in this loving invitation, in which He gives
as a reason for their finding rest and refreshment for
their souls, the character of the requirements on which
He insists. 'You shall find rest to your souls,' He
says, 'for My yoke is sweet and My burthen is light.*"
We may consider in the first place the yoke which our
Lord puts on the intelligence, as it is so often said, by
the truths of faith which He reveals and enjoins on our
acceptance. It may be said that we have more to
believe than the Jews, to whom many doctrines which
are of faith now were not so clearly declared or enjoined
as matters of obedience. There is, no doubt, in the
human unregenerate heart a rebellious instinct, the child
of pride, which rises up against the obligation of accept-
ing truths which it cannot discover or understand of
itself But this rebelliousness is unreasonable, and is
already more than half-conquered by the submissiveness
and readiness to receive what God may set on us, which
is a part of the humility and meekness of which our
Lord had spoken. And in the second place, it is not
at all true that the number of doctrines makes faith
more diflicult. On the contrary, each new doctrine, if
we are so to speak of them, sheds fresh Hght on others
which were already known, and in this way takes off
some part of the difficulty. How is it easier to believe
that God made the world, than to believe that God
made it, and also has redeemed it? How is it easier
to believe that our Lord redeemed us on the Cross,,
w 36
33^ Sweetness of 0117^ Lord's yoke,
than to believe that He has redeemed us there and has
also left behind Him, in the sacramental system, the
means of the continual and easy application of the
fruits of His Passion for the needs of souls ? How is it
easier to believe that God has estabUshed the Church
as the teacher of mankind, than to believe that He has
done this and has also preserved her from all error, as to
faith or morals, by the gift of infallibility which is seated
in the See of St. Peter ? The doctrines of the Christian
Creed shed an immense light on the character and
attributes of God, and in this way they make the simple
acceptance of the truths, even of natural religion, more
easy. The system of doctrine which the Church pre-
sents to her children is a harmonious and beautiful whole,
revealing an amount of tender consideration and thought
for the miseries of our condition and the risks of our
future, which fills the mind with consolation, and so
makes it a joy to believe that so many loving things on
the part of God to man are infallibly true and cannot
be gainsaid.
This may be said on the general character of the
Christian truths, and it is a matter constantly witnessed
to by those outside the Church, many of whom are
often found to say that they would most gladly believe
such truths if they could. And, in the second place,
if the truths which we are called on to believe are such as
it is a blessing to be assured of, such as we should wish
to have made certain to us on the authority of God,
it is also very true indeed to say that the easiness of
belief, which may be of very various degrees, depends
for its measure on the amount and character of the
•evidence on which our assent is required. Now, as to
this, our Lord imposes nothing on our minds which
is not witnessed to by evidence of that overwhelming
kind, which is only not mathematically convincing,
Sweetness of our Lo7^d's yoke, 339
because it would not then be the kind of evidence on
which faith is to rest. And this evidence is, as we may
say, ever accumulating and growing in cogency to men
of good hearts and minds not warped by prejudice,
because the centuries, as they pass on, bear each one
a fresh and independent witness to the blessings which
the Church can confer on mankind, and the perpetual
notes of the Church, her Holiness, her Catholicity, her
Apostolicity, and her Unity, are always being re-asserted,
as it were, by a crowd of saints and by men who are
the lights of their respective generations. So again the
continual w^arfare of the world against the Church, which
is so often on the point of being swallowed up in the
waves, and yet always surmounts them, is a testimony to
the Divinity that dwells in her, which is ever fresh to the
eyes of the mass of men as well as of the philosophical
historian. On this account then, the burthen and the
yoke of our Lord, as far as regards the truths of the faith,
may truly be called sweet, that is good, kindly, beneficial
in their effects and gentle in their incidence.
The same must certainly be said, if we pass on to the
yoke and burthen of our Lord as they consist in obli-
gations on the moral part of man. Of course, in the
first place, the light of faith makes many obligations
easier, because it reveals the goodness of God Who
imposes the law, the right He has to impose it, and the
immense rewards which await the faithful and obedient
soul. The Psalmist, as already quoted, declares that
the laws of God convert the soul, give wisdom to little
ones, rejoice the heart, and enlighten the eyes. If this
was true under the Law, in which so much was known
about God, it must be much more so under the Gospel,
in which He is more fully revealed. And again, the very
fulness and strictness of the Gospel law has an advant-
age over less perfect declarations of the will of God,
I
340 Sweetness of our Lord's yoke.
because it satisfies the conscience in a way that a mere
external code cannot. Let us take as instances the
examples given by our Lord Himself in the Sermon on
the Mount, when He contrasts His own most searching
requirements with those of the glosses put on the Com-
mandments by the Jewish schools. Let us grant that
it is at first sight more terrible to think that we are
responsible to our God and Judge for the angry thought,
or the lascivious imagination, than to think that what
merely defiles the heart and does not go forth into word
or action is our own affair only, and a matter for which
we shall not be called to account. Yet surely the
conscience cannot rest in peace under such a doctrine.
It must be a part of man's interior experience that sin
begins in the heart, that it is from the heart, as our
Lord says, that all sins proceed, and that there can be
no true wiping away of sin unless the guilt of the heart
is purified. And again, if a malady is to be healed and
taken away, it must be by the removal of its source and
root, and a man who understands that he must watch
over his heart and put himself to interior penance for
whatever of evil passes there with deliberate complacency,
is much more likely to be able to restrain himself from
the external act of sin, than a man who takes no heed,
except of the outward manifestations and results of his
anger, his injustice, his malice, his impurity. In this
sense it is not a hard, but a wise and loving treatment
of the sinner to tell him that he must give an account
of every evil thought, for to do this enlightens him as to
the source of evil, and at the same time satisfies the
instinctive teachings of his conscience. In this sense,
perhaps, it is that the Psalmist says that these judgments
of the Lord are true, justified in themselves, as if they
carried with them, as soon as they are promulgated,
their own warranty.
Sweetness of our Lord's yoke. 341
There is another sense in which our Lord's yoke is
sweet and His burthen light, and this is the sense which
rests on the immense help to any one who has to keep
a commandment which is conveyed by a perfect example
of its fulfilment. In this sense our Lord has made His
yoke sweet, because He attracts us to obedience, not
only by authority and by promise of reward, but also by
example. He has caught our heart to Himself, and thus
it becomes easy to follow One Who is so much an object
of love. He first says, ' Come to Me, and learn of Me,*
and then He adds that His yoke is sweet and His
burthen easy. The whole path of the Christian is lit
up by the example of Jesus Christ, and it is an example
which, because it is His, gives us grace at the same time
as light. And again, the way of God's commandments,
the virtuous, faithful, just, patient, devout life which has
been led by the children of God from the beginning,
has been made to glow with light and beauty, and fresh
glories and splendours of holiness have been unveiled
to arouse the soul and kindle the heart by the example
of our Lord and His Saints. 'God, Who commanded
the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our
hearts to give the Hght of the knowledge of the glory of
God in the face of Jesus Christ' ^ These words may be
applied to that glory of God which results from the
keeping of His commandments, and thus we may com-
pare the difference between the law of God, as observed
without our Lord, and the same law as observed with
Him, to the difference between the universe wrapped in
darkness, before the creation of light, and the same
universe when its magnificence and beauty came to be
bathed and set forth in that hitherto unknown splendour.
The world was, as far as we know, the same before as
afterwards, but the mantle of light made it a new creation.
* 2 Cor. iv. 6.
342 Sweetness of our Lord's yoke.
Thus, then, since our Lord has lived on earth, and
shown man the way to please His eternal Father, the
grandeur and glory and force and strength of which
human life is capable are revealed to us, like the moun-
tains and groves and cities and palaces which surround
some most beautiful gulf into which a ship has drifted
in the night, having seen the darkness fall while it was
still out of sight of land. How can it be doubted that
this illumination of the 'Face of Jesus Christ,' as St. Paul
speaks, must make the practice of virtue easier, by
making it infinitely sweeter, by displaying all the beauty
of humility and of purity, all the nobleness of meekness
and charity, the greatness of zeal for God's glor^', the
heroic magnanimity of patience and self-sacrifice ? The
Psalmist says, ' I have run the way of Thy command-
ments, when Thou hast enlarged my heart.' ^ And this
is certainly the effect on all good souls of the vision of
the Christian virtues as practised by our Lord. And it
is a part of the same blessing, that we have the example
of our Lord in this respect reflected to us from the lives
of thousands of His saints, for without this it would be
easy to see how we should fail from discouragement and
diffidence, and for want of faith in the graces of the
Church. For it w^ould then be the case that our Lord
had set a high and beautiful example and had seemed
to make the way of perfection easy thereby, but that the
experience of the Christian centuries had taught us that
no one could follow Him, that His example was not
only unattainable in full perfection of imitation, which is-
true, but that it was altogether above our powers to
imitate it in a measure with success, which is most false.
Nor, again, is the example of the Saints only illumination,,
and nothing more. They have won their crown for them-
selves, and the same conflicts which have been so fruitful
5 Psalm cxviii. 32.
Sweetness of otir Lo7^d's yoke. 343
of glory to them have also made them powerful to aid us
by their intercession and patronage.
To this it must of course be added that our Lord has
made His yoke sweet and His burthen light, by giving
us immense forces, not simply of light how to imitate
Him and how to see the beauties of the path which the-
commandments point out to us, but above all by the
copious supplies of strength which He provides for us in
the Church. For the weight of a burthen is relative to
the strength of those who have to bear it, and it is the
same thing to add to their strength and to diminish the
positive weight of the burthen they have to take up. In
this sense, of course, it is most true that the yoke of our
Lord is sweet, because He has breathed into us new
forces and kindled in us a vigour and a power which were
before altogether unknown. It is true that the grace of
God was never denied to man, and He always assisted
those who did what they could. But in the Christian
system there is a whole array of the means of grace,
which were unknown before, the whole power of the
merits of the Sacred Passion, the gifts of the Holy
Ghost Who is given to us and Who works in us the
works of the children of God — all these things constitute
an armament of grace of which there was but little fore-
taste under the Old Dispensation. Thus the level of
power has been raised, at the same time that in some
respects the level of the commandments has also been
raised, hut, in proportion, the increase of strength is far
greater than the increase of the obligations laid on us.
Even in matters of obligation there is an immense
difference between the old yoke and the new. The
Fathers who comment on this passage and on others like
it, dwell very much on the deliverance of Christians from
the burthens of the Old Law, of which St. Peter said in
the Council of Jerusalem that neither their fathers nor
344 Sweetness of 02C7^ Lord's yoke.
themselves were able to bear it, and from this our Lord
delivered us on the Cross, on which He took on Himself
the curse of those who disobeyed the Lavy, and so
removed the obligation. We are not so familiar with
this thought, which yet is very prominent in the Epistles
of St. Paul, and no one ever passes from the bondage of
an imperfect form of Christianity, or of a false religion,
to the liberty of the Church, or from the service of the
world to the service of God, without feeling that the
chains he has discarded were far heavier than any obli-
gations he has taken up anew.
In comparison to the Jewish external obligations,
those of the children of the Church are light indeed.
This point is too clear to be needful of explanation,
but it may be worth while to say a few words on the
new obligations, as they may be deemed, of the Gospel
Law. No doubt there are certain things to which
Christians are obliged, which were not in the same way
obligatory on the Jews. Such, for instance, is the obli-
gation, under all but exceptional circumstances, of the
confession of sins for the purpose of absolution, and
such again, may be considered the law of the unity and
indissolubility of marriage, which our Lord declares to
be the original law, but which was in abeyance under
the Mosaic system. These obligations may be fairly
taken as specimens of whatever there is of new or more
stringent in the Gospel code, and we may say of them
that they exactly illustrate the words of our Lord here,
for they are the obligations of a kind which are in them-
selves worthy of the name of sweet. That is, it is true
that they put a certain restraint on human liberty in the
one case, and they exact a certain amount of self-
liumiliation in the other case. But in both cases the
obligation is not a simple act of arbitrary law, an in-
junction set us for the sake of subjecting us to
Sweetness of oicr Lord's yoke. 345
obedience and nothing else. On the contrary, the
necessity of confession for the right and intelligent
administration of the power of the keys is manifest,
and therefore the complaint should be made against
God for committing the power of absolution to men,
rather than for insisting on a condition which is essen-
tial to the intelligent and charitable exercise of that
power. People might as well complain of the necessity
of intention in the administration of Baptism, or in the
consecration of the adorable Sacrifice of the Altar, or
of anything else that is necessary as a condition in any
sacrament.
And again, the little shame and self-humiliation which
have to be undergone in the practice of confession, are
a certain consolation to the soul, which would not feel
satisfied with itself if it had not done some little thing
towards securing the remission of the sins of which it is
conscious. On the other hand, the necessity of con-
fession opens to the soul a whole world of aids and helps
of which it would be otherwise deprived, for it would not
then be warned against its particular dangers, it would
not have the light which comes from its self-knowledge,
laid bare before a spiritual guide, and a great many other
special graces which are linked to the practice of which
we are speaking. Some of the communities which fell
away from Catholic Unity at the time of the Reformation
put an end to the practice of particular confession, if not
by strict enactment, at least by leaving it open and dis-
couraging it as unnecessary, and we find that, as a
matter of fact, few of their members, who know anything
about the power of the keys and think that they have
among them true priests however schismatical, are
content to let their consciences find peace in the general
confessions and absolutions in their services. And it
may be most certainly affirmed as an indisputable truth,
34^ Sweetness of our^ Lord's yoke.
that although, as has been said, many peoples of Europe
fell away for the sake of getting rid of the obligation of
confession, there is no reasonable man among them all
who, if he knew what the comforts and helps of the
practice are, would not most gladly have recourse to it,
and would not gladly teach it to his children. In this,
as in so many other cases, it is the falsehood spread
abroad by the ministers of evil against the so-called
burthens of the Church, that frightens men a\ray from
her on account of them.
Much the same may be said of the other point
mentioned above, namely, the new obligations of the
Christian law in the matter of marriage. These obliga-
tions are founded in reason and in the natural law, and
there is nothing of that kind in the Kingdom of God
which is not in itself salutary and full of what our Lord
calls sweetness. The whole condition of woman in the
world depends on the law of marriage. Communities
which possess so many fruits of the long reign of Chris-
tianity as are inherited by the modern nations of Europe,
may do away with the indissolubility of marriage without
perhaps relapsing all at once into the old conditions of
Pagan society. No one ventures at present to argue for
the restoration of polygamy among civilized nations.
But it is not less true that the chief social glory of the
Christian Church consists in what she has done for the
weaker and poorer and more oppressed classes, and that
of all the great things which she has achieved in this
way, none is more glorious than her restoration of woman
to the place of the companion and equal of man. He
would be a bold philosopher who would deny that this
has been brought about mainly by the elevation of
marriage to the rank of a sacrament, by its unity, by
the forbiddance of divorce, by the side of which has
come the exaltation of the virgin life.
Sweetness of oicr Lord's yoke. 347
Thus it is seen that even for their own sakes, this and
other new enactments of our Lord, are full, as He says,
of sweetness. Nor again must it be omitted in the
consideration of the character of these enactments that
they are all, more or less, connected with sacraments of
the New Law, and so with abundant supplies of certain
graces, fitted to enable men to discharge these new obli-
gations. The souls on which the obligations of indis-
soluble niarriage, of the virgin life consecrated by vow,
of clerical celibacy, and the like, are laid, are not left in
the condition of the subjects of the Old Law, much less
of those among heathen nations who strove to keep up,
as far as in them lay, the law of Nature and the autho-
rity of conscience. The Christian husband and wife
have special graces for the maintenance of the holiness
of their obligations, and a new world of human happi-
ness has been created for them. The priest at the altar,
consecrated to the offering of the daily Sacrifice of the
Immaculate Lamb, has a thousand aids of his own,
provided by Him Who has imposed the rule upon him,
for the preservation of the glory and dignity of his
state. - The virgin vowed to God, whether in the world
or within the walls of a religious home, has aids, external
and internal, to keep her worthy of her Heavenly
Spouse. Here again it may be most truly said that the
commandment brings its own reward to those who
observe it faithfully, while its faithful observance benefits
not only the particular soul who thus serves the Lord of
all, but the whole community, the Church herself, and
the world outside the Church. Men do not live or die to
themselves, as St. Paul says, but to our Lord, and in this
sense also His yoke is sweet and His burthen light,
because the practice of the lofty Christian virtues by any
one is a benefit to all around him, and the practice of
the counsels of perfection, in which, though they are not
34^ The Coming of Magdalene.
matters of obligation, the practical yoke of our Lord for
many consists, is a benefit to the whole world. Nor do
any find more truth in the words of our Lord about the
sweet yoke and the light burthen, than those who take
on themselves yokes and burthens even beyond the
obligations which bind all the faithful. And those who
follow the severest rules in the Church, and give them-
selves most entirely to the life of penance and mortifica-
tion which they have taken up as a voluntary sacrifice to
Him, have the greatest and the most constant experience
of the faithfulness with which He fulfils the promise
which His loving invitation conveys.
CHAPTER XIX.
TJie Coming of Magdalene.
St. Luke vi. 36—50 ; Vita Vitce Nostrce, § 55.
Although the order of events, at this period of our
Lord's Ministry, is not laid down for us with any great
precision by any definite declarations of the Evangelists
as to the sequence of what they tell us, there is still very
good reason for thinking that we can trace that order
with a fair amount of certainty. It has already been
said that a great part of those words of our Lord which
were considered by us in the last chapter, were probably
uttered by Him on more than one occasion, and also
that the occasion on which they are related by St.
Matthew, is not identical with the occasion with which
they are connected by St Luke. It is, however,
remarkable that the report in St. Luke, which seems
certainly to belong to the last great period of our Lord's
public teaching, stops short at the end of the 'con-
The Coming of Magdalene. 349
fession,' or thanksgiving, of our Lord to His Father,
for the revelation of the mysteries concerning Himself
to the little ones, after the rejection of the wise and
prudent, and that the third Evangelist omits the subse-
quent sentences, in which our Lord speaks of Himself
as the only One Who has power to make men know the
Father, which form the last words in the report in
St. Matthew, and contain our Lord's most loving and
touching invitation to all who labour and are burthened
to come to Him, in order that they may find rest and
refreshment for their souls. Nor can any more natural
and obvious reason be assigned for this omission on the
part of St. Luke than the supposition that, on that later
occasion, towards the end of His public teaching in the
land of Judea, on which our Lord repeated those other
words which St. Luke does record, the latter portion
of the discourse, as reported by St. Matthew at an earlier
period, was not subjoined. Indeed, at that later time,
the words of this gracious invitation might have seemed
less in place.
But the next event in the history, which would
naturally be placed next in order to this first utterance
of our Lord by a careful harmonist, even if he were
altogether uninfluenced by the beautiful teaching which
is contained in the juxtaposition of the two sections of
the narrative, will be seen at once to derive fresh light
from what has immediately preceded it, and to shed, in
return, a striking light upon the words last recorded.
This incident is related by St. Luke alone, and it
evidently belongs to that earlier period of the Public
Life on which we are now engaged. It seems to be
. almost necessarily connected with the words of our Lord,
which St. Matthew alone has inserted, at the conclusion
of the set of discourses or remarks which followed on
the mission of the disciples of St. John Baptist, and the
350 The Coming of Magdalene,
eulogy which our Lord afterwards pronounced on the
Baptist himself. This connection furnishes us with an
altogether incidental illustration of the perfect accuracy
of the Evangelists. St. Luke has omitted certain words
of our Lord which St. Matthew has recorded, and he has
apparently omitted them for the reason already given :
because they were not repeated at a later time, and he
is recording what our Lord did then repeat. But he
has added to the context, as it stands in St. Matthew,
the incident of which we are now about to speak, and
the connection between the words of our Lord in
St. Matthew and the incident thus supplied by St. Luke
is so beautiful, as to furnish us with one of the most
striking results of the careful study of the Gospel
harmony. There cannot possibly be a more appropriate
introduction to the narrative of St. Luke, than the report
of our Lord's words in St. Matthew. Nor can there be
a more touching commentary on those words of our
Lord, than the incident which St. Luke has supplied.
It may almost be said that the two passages, in the two
Evangelists, are necessary to each other by a kind of
Divine necessity, founded on the power and fruitfulness
of such words as those which we have lately been com-
menting on as given us in the report of St. Matthew.
The action of the blessed Magdalene is, in this sense,
the natural sequel of the invitation to the wearied and
burthened, and that invitation supplies the motive for
the action of the Magdalene.
It is here, then, that we first meet with that blessed
penitent, whose name has become so famous in the
Church of God, as our Lord promised that it should.
The scene of the incident is not settled for us exactly
by any statement of the Evangelist. It may have been
at Nairn, where the widow's son had lately been raised
to life, it may have been in Mary's own town of
The Coming of Magdalene. 351
Magdala, on the borders of the lake, it may have been
in Capharnaum, to which spot our Lord may have
returned, for some short interval, in the course of His
Apostolic circuit. 'And one of the Pharisees desired
Him to eat with Him.' His name was Simon, a name
very common indeed in the Holy Land and in the New
Testament narrative. He may have meant to patronize
our Lord, but there is nothing in the story as related by
St. Luke to show that he was among the enemies of our
Lord at this time. Certainly he did not show Him any
extraordinary courtesy, for this fact comes out in the
subsequent narrative. He was probably one of a class
very large at that time — the class of men who were
attracted to our Lord by the beauty of His character,
the splendour of His miracles, and the Divine authority
of His teaching, but who had not made up their minds
whether to throw themselves altogether at His feet, or to
hold aloof until something more clear became manifest
as to the character of His Mission. It is hardly possible,
under the circumstances, especially considering the
strong opposition with which our Lord was now met
by the Jewish authorities, that this class should not
have been very numerous. But it is certain that this
Pharisee was heartily desirous, as is implied in the words
of St. Luke, of knowing more of our Lord than he did.
' And behold a woman that was in the city, a sinner.'
The question of the identification of this woman with
St. Mary Magdalene has been touched on in the intro-
ductory volumes of this work, and need not be repeated
in this chapter. We assume the common and tradi-
tional belief to be the true belief, not only because it
is common and traditional, but also for the strongest
reasons of criticism and harmony. But if we thus assume
it to be true that this woman is no other than the blessed
Magdalene, it becomes necessary to take into account,
352 The Coining of Magdalene.
at this place, what is elsewhere said about that great
Saint, and which must be supposed to refer to a part of
her life antecedent to this time. St. Mark tells us, in
his short account of the Resurrection of our Lord, that
He appeared first of all — except His Blessed Mother —
*to Mary Magdalene, out of whom He had cast seven
devils.' It seems hardly probable that this dispossession
could have taken place after the incident before us, of
which we commonly speak as the conversion of the
Magdalene. It must, therefore, have been before this
time, and it is natural to think that great gratitude for
the favour thus bestowed upon her may have been one
of the motives which brought this delivered soul to the
feet of our Lord, on this occasion of the meal in the
house of the Pharisee. If we put the fact of her dis-
possession by the side of the epithet used of her by
St. Luke, who says that she was 'a sinner,' it seems
further natural to think that her having been under the
power of the evil spirits may have been connected with
her sin. It has indeed been thought by some, that the
devils from which she had been delivered were no other
that the seven deadly sins. But this is hardly in harmony
with the usual language of the Evangelists, when they
speak of demoniacs. There were often cases of posses-
sion, in which the possessed person had not merited the
infliction by any sin, but ordinarily, perhaps, there may
have been some such cause for the permission granted
to the devils to afflict them in that way. In the case
of Magdalene we are told that she had been possessed,
and also that she had been a sinner, and it is not very
important whether the possession from which she had
been delivered by our Lord was or was not the direct
punishment of her sin.
At the time she meets us first, Mary Magdalene is
neither a demoniac nor under the influence of sin.
The Coumig of Magdalene. 353
How she came into this happy state of penitence is
hidden from us in the Gospel narratives. The con-
templations of devout souls, and indeed certain un
authenticated traditions, whether among Christian or
Jewish writers, have endeavoured to fill up the picture
which St. Luke and St. Mark have left in the simplest
outline. To some she is one who had a pious sister,
devoted to the service of our Lord, who for a long time
could not induce this gay child of pleasure to hear His
teaching, but at last succeeded, and was thus able to
bring her to a better mind. Certainly it helps us to
understand and make more real to ourselves the con-
ditions under which the preaching of our Lord was
carried on, if we allow ourselves the harmless liberty
of surrounding Him with the circumstances and classes
of persons who gather in all days round the preaching^
of a great teacher of morals or religion, especially if he
speaks with authority, if his words are prospered by the
influence of grace on the hearts of his hearers, and if any
miraculous confirmation has been vouchsafed to add to
his authority. It cannot be doubted that, in the case
of this marvellous preaching of our Divine Lord, Who
spake as never man spake before or since, on Whom all
the forces of nature or of the spiritual world waited, as on
their Lord, Whose words were with power, and could
unlock the hardest of hearts to the superabundant
streams of grace which accompanied His Ministry, there
were all the circumstances which are to be found occa-
sionally in the ministrations of His favoured servants.
No doubt His progress through the country was a
triumphal procession, with occasional interruptions of
malignity and of deadness to His word, and the good
and pious souls, of whom there was no lack in the
nation, especially after the preaching of St. John Baptist,
would naturally gather round Him, and create a move'
X 36
354 ^'^^ Coming of Magdalene.
ment on every side, apart even from that which was
directly produced by His own personal influence. So
there would be there, not one Martha, such as she is
pictured for us in the contemplations of which we are
speaking, anxious to beat up recruits for the audience
of the Divine Teacher and Physician of souls, and above
all anxious to bring her own wayward sister within the
range of His influence, but a score of such enthusiastic
and devoted canvassers for the cause of God.
Thus it is no unlikely imagination, that many persons
may have been almost forced into hearing our Lord
preach, by some such importunity as that which now
labours so hard to induce Protestants to hear some
famous missioner, or to attend at High Mass, or at a
Procession of the Blessed Sacrament, that, as was said
of St. Peter at Jerusalem, at least the shadow, or rather
the light, of the Sacramental Presence of our Lord may
fall on some of them. All this is conjecture. It would
seem from the incident, of which St. Luke here gives us
the narrative, that Magdalene had to find her own way
into the presence of our Lord, and this seems to imply
that she had not as yet made the acquaintance of any
one who might have helped her in her desire to show her
gratitude to Him. We have not as yet heard of the band
-of holy women who are presently to be mentioned by St.
Luke, in connection with Magdalene herself, who accom-
panied our Lord on His journeys, ministering to His wants
and to those of the Apostles, and also, no doubt, preparing
women for conversion, or for Baptism, or for direct inter-
views with our Lord, which must have been very diflicult
for them under the circumstances of that society. Hang-
ing on the outskirts of every religious movement there
are always a number of lonely unfriended souls, persons
who have gone in to hear a sermon or into a church by
chance, and hid themselves when so doing from their
The Coming of Magdalene, 355
own friends and home circle, afraid to be seen by those
who are familiar with the carelessness or the misery of
their life, hearts wounded already by the shaft of con-
trition, and only waiting for an occasion to give them
courage to go for themselves, where so many oHiers have
gone without fear, there to unburthen their miseries, and
be set free. Then what seems a chance word, or some
stroke of grace, or some sudden Providential benefit or
warning, pierces them to the quick, and they can no
longer delay, and they make their way to peace unaided,
save by the powerful grace of God. Such is constantly
the history of precious conversions, whether to the faith
or to a better life.
Thus it seems that the most reasonable conjecture we
can make concerning this blessed penitent, is that her
presence in the house of Simon was owing to her
gratitude for the favour she had already received from
our Lord of being delivered from the power of
seven devils. This perhaps can hardly have been the
case, unless she had had some one to lead her in the
first instance to Him, on one of those occasions on
which He was so lavish of the exercise of His miraculous
power. Even this is not certain, for the demoniacs
mentioned in the Gospel are not in all cases brought to
our Lord. But those who are like Magdalene are apt to
outrun the expectations and even the advice of those
good friends who have been the first to introduce them
to our Lord. Martha's work may have ceased when
her sister was delivered. She would not, perhaps,
have counselled the display of devotion of which we
are to hear the history. But Magdalene only knew
that she had a debt of gratitude to pay, and if
she had been healed in a crowd, as might have been the
case, for example, with those who were dispossessed
when the messengers of St. John were present, not long
35^ The Coming of Magdalene.
before this incident of the meal at the Pharisee's house,
she might have had no opportunity of making her
personal acknowledgments to her deliverer. In the
meantime she had entered more deeply into herself, and
had learnt, in the light of an awakened conscience, to
loathe her old bad ways. To what extent she had fallen
the Gospel narrative does not inform us, and we must
not press too far the word used of her by St. Luke, that
she was a sinner. We must not press it too far, for this
reason — that it is the glory and the prerogative of the
blessed Magdalene to have been the first, as far as we
are told in the Gospels, to have come to our Lord as a
sinner and as nothing else. She was not a paralytic or
a blind or deaf or dumb person, she had now no bodily
ailment or affliction, of the healing of which she was in
search, and so, as others are described as coming or
being brought to our Lord as lepers, or as having the
palsy, or any other disease or affliction, she is des-
scribed simply as coming to our Lord afflicted with the
malady of sin. This is enough to explain the use of the
word sinner in St. Luke, and there is no necessity at all
to conclude from it that he means us to understand that
she was a sinner of the lowest and most shameful class
of sinful women. On the other hand, there are many
circumstances in her story, which must be taken as a
whole as it is told in the various passages in the Gospels
in which she is mentioned, which lead us to the con-
clusion that she was of good birth, a person of rank, as
well as wealthy.
It is not easy to see how she could have found
admission into the house of the Pharisee, if she had
belonged to the lowest class of infamous women. The
servants could not have known her as such. We find
her, almost immediately after this incident, associated in
the service of our Lord with noble and virtuous ladies,
The Coming of Magdalene. 357
and the work on which she was engaged was one which,
we may suppose, would not have been entrusted
to any whose character was tarnished. She was
known to the Pharisee as what he called a sinner, and
Pharisees, modern as well as ancient, call all worldlings
by that name, and she was what St. Luke calls a sinner,
in the sense which we have already explained. This is
all we know, and there is considerable internal evidence
in the account of her in the Gospel of St. Luke in favour
of the view that she was herself the authority from whom
the Evangelist drew his narrative of the incident. If
this was so, it is only in harmony with the manner in
which the saints of God ordinarily speak of themselves,
if she has put the worst words that could be used of
herself into the history. As all such narratives in the
Gospel have been constantly used by preachers to
enforce great truths, it has frequently happened that
there can be found a great number of writers who have
taken the worst possible view of the words used con-
cerning the persons who are in any way held up to
blame in the history. It is curious, in tlie case of the
blessed Magdalene, that the traditional view concerning
her is not uniform, and this can hardly be accounted
for by the wish of Christian writers to cast as few
aspersions of a disgraceful character as possible on those
who are venerated as saints. St. Mary of Egypt and
St. Margaret of Cortona are among the saints of the
Church, and the glory of God is increased by such
conversions, and such lives after conversion, as theirs.
But the glory of God does not require that the most
famous of penitents should have sinned the most deeply,
but only that such should have the most perfect contrition
for whatever sins they may have committed.
Thus it seems most probable that, what the exact extent
of the sins of this blessed penitent was, we shall never truly
35 8 The Coming of Magdalene.
know till the day when the secret lives and thoughts of
all hearts shall be revealed in the presence of the Judge
of all, in order that God may be fully glorified for His
dealings with each one of His creatures. In the mean-
time it is open to us to consider her in whatever way
seems most in accordance with our actual knowledge
concerning her, and with the light that is thrown upon
her by the words of our Lord and the Pharisee, whether
this leads us to look on her as a wayward frivolous
child of voluptuous self-indulgence, who had committed
many follies and been guilty of many acts of worldliness
and dissipation, after which she had been allowed by
the Providence of God to become possessed, and who
had then been delivered from the Evil One by the
mercy of our Lord, at no great distance of time from that
of the scene related in the text, or as one who had thrown
aside all shame in her life of pleasure, and made herself
notorious as an abandoned woman in the commonest
sense of the word. The balance of evidence, which
after all is chiefly inferential, seems certainly to incUne
to a conclusion short of this last extreme.
Whatever may have been the previous life and con-
dition of this great Saint, it is certain that when she
came to our Lord her heart was overflowing with
penitential love. It certainly cannot be considered a
baseless conjecture, that she had heard the gracious
words about coming to Him which He had addressed
so shortly before to the crowd in general. She had
thus two dominant feelings in her heart — gratitude for
the favour of her deliverance from the power of the
devil, and deep contrition for her sins. And hearing
our Lord invite those who were labouring and burthened
to come to Him, she acted, as she always acts in the
Gospel history, with the highest and the simplest pru-
dence, while she seemed to be obeying a strong impulse
The Comiftg of Magdalene. 359
only. St. Luke tells us that when she heard where our
Lord was, she came, as if to imply that it mattered not
to her where she was to find Him, so long as she did find
Him. She made her way into the room in which He
was sitting or reclining at meat in the Pharisee's house.
The words by which St. Luke signifies her knowledge
of the place in which our Lord was to be found, seem
to imply that she had sought for the information at the
cost of some pains. She would go at once to Him Who
promised rest and refreshment to the soul. 'Having
ascertained, she went.' It was not simply to go to Him,
it was to perform an act of homage and thanksgiving and
devotion. She took her alabaster box with her, and
she must have intended from the first to make that use
of it which she did. Our Lord afterwards said of her,
' What she had, she hath done.'
Magdalene could not have known the appropriateness
of her action, as our Lord afterwards drew it out in His
words to the Pharisee, for she could not have known
that, when the Master entered the house of Simon, the
common courtesies paid to guests would not be offered
to Him by His host. God was ever on the watch, if we
may say so, to render honour to our Lord, in a special
way, when ordinary honour had been denied Him, and
the instances in w'hich this rule of Providence is illus-
trated in the Gospel history are among the most beautiful
of its incidents. On this occasion, Magdalene was to be the
instrument used by God. So now the poor child of self-
indulgence and of the world, as she had once been, was
sent, among other things, to render to our Lord, in the
most conspicuous and magnificent way, the honour which
had been denied Him. His feet had not been washed, as
was but the usual courtesy, and now this loving penitent
stood behind Him, having glided into the room without
hindrance from any. But before she could use her oint-
360 The Coming of Magdalene.
ment, the fountains of the great deep of her contrition
and devotion were broken up, and the tears that
streamed from her eyes became a flood in which she
■could bathe the feet of her Saviour and Lord. For so
it often is, even when we have been dry and devoid
of feehng before, an act of humiUation or devotion or
charity brings to the heart an overwhehiiing might of
tenderness, and the sweet tears flow in abundance. It
cannot be thought that she had no other means of
wiping our Saviour's feet than the hair of her head, but
she loosed down her crown of beautiful locks, which
perhaps, in the days of her sin, had been her great
glory and ornament, and she made them serve the office
of a towel to wipe the feet which her tears had washed.
At the same time, her devotion and courage increasing as
she went on, for she had received no check from our
Lord, and she cared little for what others might think
or do, she flung herself on the feet before her and
•covered them with kisses. Lastly, she took the oint-
ment from her box of alabaster and shed it upon the
feet which she had been kissing. No one interrupted
her — no one seems even to have spoken. The action
was swiftly performed, and in a few moments she had
anointed our Lord. The deed was all her own — no
example had suggested it, no heart but hers could
have conceived it. There is in it a tenderness, a
boldness, a lavishness, and also a humility all unique.
We may infer from the words of our Lord to the
Pharisee, in which He draws the contrast between
Magdalene and him, that the natural order would
have been for her to wash His feet and then anoint
His head. * Thou gavest Me no water for My feet,
but she with tears hath washed My feet, and with
her hairs she hath wiped them. Thou gavest Me
no kiss, but she, since she came in, hath not ceased to
The Coming of Magdalene. 361
kiss My feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint,
but she with ointment hath anointed My feet/ Thus
did this blessed penitent fill up, in her glorious way, the
lack of observance on the part of the host who had
invited our Lord, in all but one thing. She did not
venture now to shed even her precious ointment on His
sacred Head, but poured it all out on His feet. Our
Lord understood all that she did, and saw in it at once
the reparation to His honour and the loving contrition
from which it proceeded.
This, however, was not yet to be manifested by our
Lord. The whole action had passed swiftly and in
silence. Our Lord Himself said nothing, but left her to
perform her homage of love without either encourage-
ment or reproof The Apostles were not present, as it
seems — many who invited our Lord could not burthen
themselves with the entertainment of so large a company.
The guests, the servants, the Pharisee himself, said
nothing. But if there was silence of words, there was
not. silence of thoughts.' Any incident of devotion and
religious earnestness, passing beyond the bounds of
ordinary manifestation, is certain to awake a sort of
alarmed criticism. There may have been some there
who shared her enthusiasm for our Lord, and were
rejoiced to see Him honoured. To many of the guests
she may have been known as well as to the host himself,
and they would wonder at seeing such a person at the
feet of Jesus Christ. As men said once, * Is Saul also
among the prophets ? ' so they might have said to them-
selves, ' And is Mary of Magdala among the women who
beheve in this new Prophet?' But in the heart of
the Pharisee who had invited our Lord, the criticism was
rather for our Lord Himself than for the poor penitent
who was thus honouring Him. ' And the Pharisee who
had invited Him, seeing it, spoke within himself, saying,
362 The Coming of Magdalene,
* This Man, if He were a prophet, would know surely
who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth
Him, that she is a sinner.'
These words of the Pharisee seem to show his state of
mind, as if he were seeking unconsciously for arguments,
for or against the claims of our Lord to be considered a
Prophet. He was in that stage of mental progress towards
the truth, at which the thoughts naturally turn to the one
question which must be solved before all others, and find
in everything that takes place some evidence one way or
the other. If this had not been so, there was much that
was beautiful and touching in the scene to attract him,
that we may hope he would have found some other
comment in his heart than a simple criticism of the
kind which he made. It reveals, in the first place, a
misconception of the prophetical office, and of the duty
of messengers of God to those to whom they are sent.
For it was not an inherent characteristic of the pro-
phetical office that such messengers should always know
the state of the soul of those who came to them. . The
gift of reading the heart was imparted to the prophets
partially, and on such occasions as it pleased God to
impart it. Nor could this poor Pharisee understand
that one who had once been a sinner, even a notprious
sinner, need not therefore be shut out from all hope of
penitence, or that there was a peculiar joy in the Heart
of our Lord, and indeed of all lovers of souls, in the
return of sinners to God, which would make such a
person, as he supposed Magdalene to be, especially
welcome to Him. He understood nothing of the con-
descension of the Sacred Heart, but he might have
known that God is full of mercy, that, as our Lord
reminded other Pharisees more than once, He had
declared that He preferred mercy to sacrifice, and that,
moreover, this despised girl was putting himself to shame
The Coming of Magdalene. 363
by her rendering to our Lord the offices which he, in
his want of courtesy, had denied Him. The whole
interior of the Pharisee reveals to us that narrow and
cavilling spirit which leads to the vice which our Lord
speaks of as the evil eye ; the readiness to see what is
hable to blame in our neighbour, sometimes even in the
w^orks of God, while we are not ready to see what is
praiseworthy and beautiful, though it is far more con-
spicuous than the other, in the persons or incidents
which arouse our criticism. It is the habitual temper
with which Protestants look on the Catholic Church and
her children, and with which worldly and narrow-minded
men look on the exercise of such virtues as generosity,
devotion, enthusiasm, and the like. The man could not
have been without his good qualities, and he may not
have been very far from the Kingdom of God, but his
narrowness and hardness of heart were ruffled by the
action, both of the penitent in her display of devotion,
and of our Lord in not rebuking that display. But now
our Lord is about to speak, and we may here divide our
consideration of the incident, passing, in the next
chapter, to the manner in which He dealt both with
Magdalene and with her critics.
CHAPTER XX.
The Pardon of Magdalene.
St. Luke vi. 36 — 50 ; Vita Vita: Nostrce, § 55.
The Pharisee, as has been said, had not uttered a
word in expression of his thoughts concerning Magda-
lene and his own blessed Guest, Who had received
her demonstration of loving homage without reproof.
But our Lord, in His infinite tenderness and gene-
rosity, would not let even a thought of such petty
criticism pass without its correction, both that He might
defend the despised woman and help His host on to a
better understanding of His own Divine charity. He
answered the thought of his heart before it found ex-
pression in words, and so showed him in the most
convincing manner that it was not from any want of
knowledge of the condition of the poor penitent that
He had allowed her to approach Him and treat Him
with so much of love and reverence. 'And Jesus
answering said to him, Simon, I have something to say
to thee.' The words were full of friendliness and
courtesy, as if asking his leave, before He lifted for
him the veil which hung over his heart. ' But he
answered. Master, say it.' And then our Lord put to
him a simple parable, in order that what there was to
be of rebuke to him might sound less sharp, by being
made general, and that he might also have no oppor-
tunity of evading the force of the parallel which he had
himself first admitted. 'A certain creditor had two
The Pardon of Magdalene, 365
debtors, the one owed him five hundred pence, the
other fifty. And whereas they had not wherewith to
pay, he forgave them both. Which therefore of the
two loved him most?'
It may have been very far from the thoughts of the
Pharisee Simon, that he was himself figured in one of
these debtors, and that the other was the w^oman kneel-
ing still behind our Lord as He spake, with her lips
still fastened on the sacred Feet, which she had bathed
in her tears. But there may have been a sort of fear
that something was in store which he did not expect.
He answers as a man who feels not quite sure of his
ground. 'Simon answering said, I suppose that he to
whom he forgave most.' And our Lord, Who now had
from his own lips the truth which He desired to enforce,
and of which Simon could not now complain, as he had
himself declared it, 'said to him, Thou hast rightly
judged.' Up to this time He had taken no outward
notice of the woman behind His feet. He had allowed
her homage and service, and His Sacred Heart had
rejoiced over her, as one even then most dear to Him,
and after this time to become ever more and more dear
and rich in His grace, and He had been applying to her,
in copious streams, the abundant graces which were
required to perfect her conversion and her contrition.
And now at last He turned to her. In turning He must
have disengaged His feet from her embrace, and she
may then have stood before Him, her eyes fixed on the
ground, her tears still flowing, her face flushed with love
and grief. 'And turning to the woman. He said to
Simon, Dost thou see this woman ? ' Not a word from
Him about her former life or state, but what Simon so
little expected, a comparison between her service to
Himself and that of His host. 'I entered into thy
house ' — perhaps Simon had thought that he was the
366 The Pardon of Magdalene.
person who conferred the obligation when he admitted
our Lord to his table, but our Lord's words have a
significance to us when we remember His Divine
Majesty and the dignity of His Sacred Human Nature
— I, the Incarnate God, the King of men and angels,
the Saviour of the world, I entered into thy house !
'Thou gavest Me no water for My feet; but she with
tears hath washed My feet, and with her hairs hath
wiped them. Thou gavest Me no kiss, but she, since
she came in, hath not ceased to kiss My feet. My
Head with oil thou didst not anoint, but she with
ointment hath anointed My feet. Wherefore, I say
to thee, her many sins are forgiven her because she
hath loved much, but to whom less is forgiven, he
loveth less.'
Every word of this short speech must have burnt
into the heart of him to whom it was addressed. The
Pharisee could not have expected to have himself so
plainly and pointedly attacked in the presence of his
guests, and yet he had brought it upon himself, and
he could not but feel at the same time the tenderness
with which our Lord dealt with him. When our Lord
undertakes the defence of any one with whom fault is
found, He does it in a way which involves a rebuke to
the person whose criticism He is answering. Thus the
main purport of what our Lord said was a contrast
between Simon and Magdalene, to the great advantage
of the latter. She had supplied in an overabundant
manner every deficiency in the courtesy and homage of
the Pharisee. Instead of the water for the feet, which
it was common to refuse to no one, she had given the
tears of her eyes. Instead of the towels to wipe the
feet, she had given the hairs of her head. Instead of
the oil which might have been shed on the head of the
honoured Guest, she had lavished the far more precious
The Paj^don of Magdalene. 367
ointment on His feet. Instead of the usual kiss of
peace, which it seems ahnost inconceivable that Simon
should not have offered to our Lord, she had continued
kissing His feet from the moment she came into the
room. But our Lord made no complaint of Simon —
He only proved to him, by his own standard that the
woman loved more than he, because she had had more
forgiven her, or that she had a right to have more
forgiven to her, because she had loved so much. It
is beyond question that the love of which our Lord
speaks, is the love that was manifested by her actions,
as the lesser love of Simon had been manifested by the
comparatively few signs of honour or affection which he
had shown. In another case, the greater demonstration
of love might have been considered as showing greater
gratitude for other benefits, not simply that of the
remission of a debt. But the Pharisee, in his thoughts,
had chosen, as it were, this ground for the comparison,
when he had said to himself that our Lord could not be
a Prophet, otherwise He would have known the sort of
person who approached Him, for she was a sinner. So
our Lord took up his own thoughts in speaking to him.
All sin is a debt to the justice of God, and the Pharisee,
whether he thought so or not, was a debtor in this sense
to our Lord. He had shown but little love to his
benefactor, therefore it is probable he had less reason
for showing gratitude. But the Magdalene had shown
great love. Her love was a mark, not so much of the
magnitude of her sins m themselves, but of the magni-
tude of the benefit which she had received when they
were forgiven. ' As your actions show,' our Lord seems
to say, ' that you have had few sins forgiven, her actions
show that if she has had many sins, she has had them
forgiven. '
Thus far our Lord had only spoken of the Magdalene
o
68 The Pardon of Magdalene.
to the Pharisee, and He had taken no notice of all she
had done except to defend her. But now it was her
turn, and our Lord at length let His eyes fall upon her,
and He addressed her directly. ' And He said to her,
Thy sins are forgiven thee. And they that sat at meat
with Him began to say within themselves. Who is this
that forgiveth sins also? And He said to the woman,
Thy faith hath made thee safe. Go in peace.' These
words of our Lord to the Magdalene, conveying to her
the precious assurance of her full forgiveness, may
perhaps have been to some extent suggested by the
thoughts of the Pharisee concerning her, as the Parable
of the Two Debtors was certainly suggested by them.
That is, our Lord may have declared to her her perfect
absolution, in the same way as He had before done the
same thing to the paralytic who had been let down from
the roof before Him, his bearers thinking rather of the
cure of the body than of the healing of the soul. But
it is more likely that, in these words also, our Lord
answered her own thoughts and desires, for her whole
action was at once an outpouring of grateful love, and
a petition for still further remission. The very action
itself must have had the character of a supplication for
forgiveness, for she was known to those who saw what
she did, she was known as a person whom they could
call a sinner, our Lord was known as a preacher of
penitence, and thus when she was seen at His feet it
was a public declaration that she was asking of Him
peace and reconciUation with God. The words of our
Lord are couched in a declaratory form, but they were
understood by those who heard them as conveying, and
not simply declaring, pardon, for 'this they said within them-
selves. Who is this that forgiveth sins also ? ' It is most
probable therefore that our Lord in these words gave
her the boon which she had come there to ask, by her
The Pardon of Magdalene. 369
actions rather than by her words. And when He added^
'Thy faith hath saved thee, or made thee safe,' it is.
natural to think that she must have had in her heart, not
only the general faith that He was a Prophet sent from
God, but the particular faith which corresponded to the
boon which she received, and that must have been the
faith that He had power to forgive her her sins. This-
faith must have nearly, if not quite, reached the level of
the faith which St. Peter was afterwards to profess in his
own name and in the name of his brethren, that ' our
Lord was the Christ, the Son of the living God.' And
when He bade her go in peace, or as the Greek text-
has it, * Go into peace,' the words seem to signify that
she had gained that for which slie came, she had
received the boon she had desired and sought, that
her work for the time was accomplished, and she might
now withdraw herself from the gaze of all these guests,
and servants, carrying in her heart the ineffable boon of
the peace of a conscience perfectly reconciled to the
Master Whom she had grievously offended. She was
soon enough to be with our Lord again, and indeed to
become a constant attendant on His Person, but for the
present occasion she had done enough and might go
away in thankfulness and joy, to begin a new life, the
great characteristic of which was to be peace with God
and herself, instead of the excitement and remorse and
continual interior struggles of the life of pleasure and
dissipation out of which she had come. And here we
might leave this blessed penitent, were it not that the
words of our Blessed Lord to her have been the subject
of so much discussion among Catholic writers, and of
discussion of that kind which it is most profitable tO'
examine, on account of the many truths which come up
in the course of the argument
There has, as has been said, been considerable differ-
Y 36
370 The Pardon of Magdalene.
ence of opinion among Catholic interpreters, as to the
exact meaning of the words in which our Lord here spoke
of the forgiveness of the sins of this blessed penitent, and
almost every possible interpretation has been affixed to
them by some one of the Fathers. But the discrepancy
is more apparent than real, and it has probably arisen
from the seeming difficulty created by the assignment, by
our Lord, of the great love shown by the Magdalene as
the reason of her forgiveness. All of the interpretations
contain some Catholic truth, and the only question for
us is how to adjust the meaning of the words so as to
agree in the best way with the occasion on which they
were spoken. But it will be useful first to remind
ourselves of the meaning of the words * remission ' and
'forgiveness,' and of other cognate expressions in the
Sacred Scriptures and in the language of the Church.
In our Lord's own mouth, and in Sacred Scripture
generally, these words have a fulness of meaning which
they have not always with ourselves, inasmuch as the
imperfection of the dispositions, in which pardon or
absolution may be validly received, may sometimes
prevent the actual application of forgiveness and remis-
sion, in a particular case, in that large and comprehensive
extent of which they are capable.
The remission of sins, in Sacred Scripture, is the effect
of the application to the soul, by way of forgiveness, of
the precious Blood of Jesus Christ and the Sacrifice of
the Cross. It cannot be questioned that the power
of the merits of the Passion extends to every one of
the various effects of sin on the soul. That is, the
natural — so to speak — effect of the application of the
precious Blood to the soul, is the cancelHng of all
the guilt, of all the weakness consequent on evil acts or
habits, of all the estrangement from God and consequent
difficulty of intercouse with Him which results from in-
The Pardon of Magdalene, 371
dulgence, and of all the pain due to the sins which are
thus washed away. We are accustomed to distinguish
between the cancelling of the guilt of sin and the can-
celling of the pain due to sin, and the distinction is
most true and entirely founded on the facts of the case,
and the language of Scripture and of the Church. But
our Lord's words always mean all that they can mean,
and when He says, 'Thy sins are forgiven thee,' He
means — unless there is some reason for thinking the
contrary — that the whole effects of sin as well as its
guilt are cancelled and removed. And if He uses the-
words in any case where there is reason to think that
the guilt of sin has been already removed, before the
words are spoken by Him, then His words mean a
confirmation of the truth that the guilt has been removed,
and a further removal of anything that remains to be
removed, that is, in many cases, of the pain due to sins
already forgiven as to their guilt. Our Lord does not
use one word for the forgiveness of guilt, and another
for the removal of the penalties due to sin. Nor does
the Church, or Sacred Scripture, use different w^ords for
these tw^o effects. When David cries out in his Psalm
of Penance, 'Wash me yet more from my iniquity, and
cleanse me from my sin,'^ he has already had the guilt
of his sin remitted, but it would be presumptuous to say
that he w^as thinking only of the remission of pain. He
prays for fuller and fuller forgiveness in every kind.
When Sacred Scripture records that Judas Machabeus
sent money to Jerusalem that sacrifice should be offered
for the sins of the dead, adding, ' It is therefore a holy
and wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they
may be loosed from sins,'^ it is clear, from the Catholic
doctrine, that the prayers were made for the remission of
pain only. The same is to be said of the language of
1 Psalm 1, 4. 2 2 Mach. xii. 46.
372 The Pardon of Magdalene:
the Church, which prays for the remission of sins for
the faithful departed, and puts into the mouths of her
children, when standing by the death-bed of a soul
already fled, words like these : Qikb per fragilifatcm
human(B co7iversationis peccata comviisit^ hi venia miseti-
co7'dissi??ice pietatis absterge, per Christu77i Do77ii7m77i
nost7'U77i, That is, both the Church and Sacred Scrip
ture use the words remission, and the like, for whatever
application of the precious Blood is possible in the case
before them, whether of the guilt of mortal sin, or the
■guilt of venial sin, or of the penalties due to sin or any
of its effects. And they may use the word of one of
these things, or of all these things together, according
to the meaning which the case admits of. For the
difference between the effect produced by the applica-
tion of the merits of the Passion in any two or three
cases, is not in the power of the Precious Blood itself,
but only in the dispositions of the soul to w^hich the
remitting power is applied, whether sacramentally or
otherwise. And it is possible also that when it is said
that a sin shall not be remitted or is not remitted, such
declarations may apply either to the whole effect of what
is called remission, or to one of its effects, as when a sin
already forgiven as to its guilt is not left without temporal
punishment, whether on account of the dispositions of
the sinner or of the requirements of God's just govern-
ment of the world, which sometimes make Him publicly
avenge a crime which is still not beyond the range of
remission as to guilt.
If WT turn especially to the language of the New
Testament, and examine those passages in which the
words which signify remission are used by our Lord,
this remark will be further enforced. We might naturally
expect that our Lord would not limit the meaning of the
words in which He conveys the application of His own
The Pardon of Magdalene. 373
great work for the redemption of mankind, but there are
places in which He seems to recognize the twofold sense
in which that application might be made. When He
bids us, in His own prayer, pray that our trespasses
may be forgiven as we forgive others, He uses the full
sacramental word. On the two great occasions on which
He publicly forgave sins, that is, on the occasion of the
healing of the paralytic who was let down through the
roof into the middle of the house where He was teach-
ing, and on this occasion of the forgiveness of the
Magdalene, He uses the full word again. But there
are more than one places in the Gospels in which the
words seem to refer, in our Lord's mouth, to the remis-
sion of pain in particular, and we cannot ever be certain
that He does not, at least, include this, or speak of this
where there is no guilt to be remitted. It may therefore
be concluded that if there is reason for thinking that, in
any particular passage, He speaks mainly of one effect
rather than of the other, it is fair so to understand the
words, even though the case should require that the
meaning should be rather of the lesser than of the greater
remission. For the remission of pain is certainly a lesser
application of the Precious Blood than the remission of
guilt, or than the remission of both guilt and pain at the
same time. And thus if it were necessary, in the passage
before us, to understand that the blessed Magdalene was
already forgiven as to the guilt of her sins, when she
approached our Lord in the house of the Pharisee, it
w^ould not be inconsistent with the usage of Scripture
to consider that the words of our Lord addressed to
her were meant mainly to apply to the remission of the
pain due to her sins, that~is, to assure her of her full and
perfect forgiveness.
There are as many as three interpretations of the
words of which we are speaking, which have the sanction
374 ^^^^ Pm'don of Magdalene.
of the names of great Fathers, though they do not occur
in the passages of those Fathers' writings in which they
are directly expounding the text before us. St. Augustine^
is quoted as understanding the passage in the plain and
simpler sense of the words, that is, the sense in which
the reason which our Lord assigns as the ground of the
forgiveness of this woman's sins, her great love, is con-
sidered as being the cause of her forgiveness. She loved
much, her whole conduct after she entered the house of
the Pharisee is one continued display of great love, and
a display of this love in the eyes of the world, which was
certain to criticize her in the most ill-natured way, and
by that love, which was founded on her faith in our
Lord as the Saviour and Redeemer of mankind, and as
having the power to forgive her her sins, she has earned
from Him that forgiveness which was in truth what she
had sought. St. Augustine does not enter into the
question, whether she was already justified when she
approached the feet of our Lord. But he takes it for
granted that her love, as shown by her conduct, on
which our Lord dwells in His words to the Pharisee
as the proof of her love, was the cause and ground of
the forgiveness which she then and there received,
without drawing any distinction between the remission
of guilt and the remission of pain. After St. Augustine
comes the great name of St. Ambrose,^ who interprets
the words of our Lord as if the love which the
Magdalene showed was the ground of her forgiveness
in this other sense — that our Lord forgave her, because
He foreknew what a great lover of His she was to
become. But it must be remembered that St. Ambrose
is not here directly commenting on the passage of
St. Luke. St. Gregory the Great ^ is the authority for
3 St. Aug. Horn. 25, inter 50. ^ st, Amb. Dc Tobia, c. 22.
5 St. Greg. Ep, i, vi. 22.
The Pardon of Magdalene. 375
another class of interpretation, in which the great love
shown by the Magdalene is not so much the reason for
which she has been forgiven, as the evidence that she
has been forgiven, as if our Lord had said to Simon, ^ It
is certain that this woman has been forgiven more sins
than yourself, for she has shown me an abundance of
loving homage which you have not shown.' In this
interpretation the love is caused by the forgiveness, and
is its evidence. In the others the love is the cause of
the forgiveness, though St. Ambrose thinks that the
forgiveness is granted for the love which is to follow
it, and St. Augustine thinks it is granted for the love
which preceded it.
There are other ways of explaining the words of our
Lord, such as that which has been already alluded to,
by which the forgiveness of guilt is distinguished from
the forgiveness of pain. Or another still, which rests on
the truth that forgiveness and love may be simultaneous
in the soul, and that it may be said in one sense that
forgiveness engenders love, and in another sense that
love engenders forgiveness. It is not the purpose of
this commentary to discuss all possible opinions on the
texts with which we have to deal, but rather to lay before
the reader what seems, on the whole, the best interpre-
tation. In the present case, however, it seems well to
have departed from our usual custom and enumerated
the chief at least among the interpretations. Turning to
the question of the direct meaning of our Lord, it may
be remembered in the first place that that meaning must
be gathered in great measure from the intention of our
Lord in making the comparison, and also from what we
may fairly presume to have been the intention of the
blessed Magdalene in the action which occasioned both
the tacit censure of the Pharisee and the answer of our
Lord to his thoughts. In the first place, then, as to the
376 The Pardon of Magdalene.
intention of the blessed Magdalene. From the words
with which our Lord dismissed her from His presence, we
have already gathered that she came to Kim, not simply
for the sake of venting her feeUngs of gratitude and devo-
tion, but aleo with a desire to obtain that very boon
which our Load gave to her, namely, the remission of
her sins. But it does not follow from this that her sins
were not already, in great measure, cancelled by the
love which burnt in her heart towards God and our Lord, -
and the deep contrition which she had conceived for
having offended Him. The words, in which our Lord
declares her forgiveness, do not exclude the truth that
she was in a state of grace when she entered the room.
He speaks of her faith having made her whole or safe.
And her faith, of which He speaks, was not like the faith
of those who came to Him to seek for miraculous cures,
the faith simply that He had power to work such cures,
but it must have been a faith that realised that He was
the Son of God, and that He had power to heal the
wounds of the soul as well as the diseases of the body.
'One who had such a faith, and who had moreover heard
or been told of the sweet words of invitation in which He
had bidden all that were burthened by sin to come to
Him for refreshment, would need no more to induce her
to do as she had done. It is true that if she had true
charity, she was already in a state of grace, and so far
her sins were already forgiven. But souls in such a state
are the last in the world to say to themselves that they
^o not need to hear the gracious words of absolution
■pronounced by our Lord, or by some one who has
authority on earth to forgive sins. We read the Gospels
-so continually, and so much without realizing to ourselves
the state of mind into which the populations through
which our Lord passed about, must have been thrown by
His presence, that we are far indeed from being able to
The Pardon of Magdalene, 2>77
enter into the thoughts and feelings of such persons as this
glorious penitent. For the first time, as far as we know,
for many centuries, the dead had been raised to life, and
the other stupendous miracles of our Lord, combined
with the power of His teaching, and the beauty of His
character and example, produced a state of enthusiasm
of which even the most fervent Catholics of our own day
have but few experiences. It may be considered as
certain, then, that the main object of this action on the
part of the penitent was the obtaining from our Lord
that which He gave her, something of the refreshment
and rest which He had just before promised, even
though she might not have been able to speak theologi-
cally about the forgiveness of her sins by absolution in
the sense in which we now speak of it.
That she was burning with charity when she entered
the room, who can doubt ? and if this was the case then,
theologically speaking, she had in her soul the grace of
forgiveness. For such charity would be inconsistent with
aUenation from God. But it does not follow that our
Lord did not confer on her an inestimable boon, in the
way of forgiveness, when He said to her, ' Thy sins are
forgiven thee,' or that He had not a most direct purpose
in what He did. We have just now seen how He selected,
as it were, the son of the poor widow of Naim as the
subject of the great miracle by which He showed His
power over death itself, for the purpose of His glory and
for the manifestation of the truth concerning Himself.
In the same way He may have chosen this incident of the
Magdalene to reassert what He had already asserted
once before. His power to forgive sins. It may be that
for this Divine purpose He drew her by His silent and
most powerful grace to His feet on that occasion. It
cannot be doubted that every moment of the short
minutes which were occupied by the incident before us
37^ The Pardon of Magdalene.
added immensely to the grace already in the heart of the
Magdalene. Every moment was a fresh display of her
love, rewarded by a fresh increase in grace and in her
contrition and her love for our Lord. Her knowledge of
Him would add, as it grew more and more clear, to her
knowledge of herself, and so she would more and more
deeply abhor her former state, for the sake of .Him. In
all these ways the work of grace would be going on in
her soul, in deepening her grief for the sins of which she
had before been conscious, in enlightening her as to the
true character of much of which she had before thought
lightly, till no nook or corner of her soul remained un-
illuminated by the light of Divine love, and unwashed by
the sweet bitters of contrite grief. And, as the floods of
her sorrowing love mounted higher and higher, she would
draw more and more near to that state of most perfect
contrition, in which the pains as well as the guilt of all
sins are overwhelmed. And even then, how can it be
supposed that the gracious words of the Incarnate Son
of God, in whose Blood alone was there remission of
sins, of any kind or degree, pronouncing her sins to be
forgiven, would not confer immense additional grace on
the soul, on which so many glorious gifts had already
been lavished? For the holy words of sacramental
absolution cannot be thought to produce no effect at all
on a soul already contrite, though the forgiveness of sin
may have already been obtained without them. It
cannot be but they must add fresh grace of enlighten-
ment and strength and health, even though they were not
absolutely necessary, except by precept, for the complete
forgiveness of sin.
This we may consider to have been the history of the soul
of this great model of penitence in the scene of which we
are speaking. If we turn to our Lord's part in the incident,
and venture to inquire what may have been His motive
The Pardon of Magdalene. 379
in the ordering of the whole scene, we must in the first
place remember that He may have had one object in
view in permitting the action of the penitent, and another
in the vindication of her which He addressed to the
criticism of the Pharisee. We do not of course know what
had already passed between Him and the blessed Mary-
We know that He had cast out of her seven devils, and
this may probably have been at no great distance of time
from this incident in the house of Simon. Whether she
had been brought to Him for the purpose of instruction,
or for the correction of the disorders of her life, what-
ever they may have been, we do not know. But He
may have wished to draw her by His grace to this public
demonstration of her penitence and devotion to Him,
for many reasons connected with the welfare of her own
soul. It would be altogether out of keeping with the
noble and generous character of this holy woman to have
been backward or sparing in her desire to make her
gratitude known to all, and to let all whom she had
before scandalised be witnesses of her humihation and
conversion. Our Lord might desire to permit this, in
order to make her break more entirely with the world to
which she had before been too deeply attached, and
certainly nothing could more completely separate her
from all her former ways and associates than this public
display of her repentance. Holy writers have often dwelt
on this in their meditations on this act of her Hfe,
remarking that to break with the world once and for
ever, by some decided step of penitence and humilia-
tion, is the most prudent measure that can be adopted
by souls that are strong enough for it, and whose case
requires some heroic remedy of this kind.
Again, our Lord might have prompted her to this act of
public penance, on account of its perfect adaptation and
correspondence, so to say, of the faults which she had
380 The Pardon of Magdalene.
committed and which were probably well known. Thus
her penance is like those of which men of former centu-
ries were more fond than the men of our own time — the
humiliation, or the suffering, corresponding to the kind
of sin by which God had been offended. She who had
been the queen of revelries and vanities, proud of her
beautiful person, her profuse crown of hair, her scents
and ointment and brave apparel and display of wealth
on her dress, she who had been waited on and admired,
and at whose feet all the homage of voluptuous adoration
had been paid, she, the delicate and refined, even in her
sensuality and her passion, was now waiting, kneeling
among the attendants on the feast, behind the feet of her
Master, making public profession of her grief for sin, and
using, to bathe the feet of her Saviour, the tears of those
eyes which had before served for the gates of sin, and
those hairs of her head on which so much adornment had
been lavished, and which she had braided and perfumed
that she might seem more attractive in the eyes of her
worshippers. Every particular of her homage to our
Lord has something about it of this character of repara-
tion, of using for His honour what had before been used
for the dishonour of God, and the degradation of her
soul. Thus she becomes the first public penitent in the
Catholic Church, and her self-humiliation may have been
intensely delightful to our Lord, not only for its own
sake, and for the treasures of grace which it enabled Him
to shower upon her, but also as the type and foundation
of thousands and thousands of such noble reparations to
His honour, by which countless souls after her were to
undo the evil of which they had been guilty, and give
immense honour to Him and edification to the Church
at large. Thus what may have been seen by His Divine
eye to have been the best possible discipline for a soul
which He desired to raise to so great a height of sanctity,
1 he Pardofi of Magdalene. 381
and to make the pattern and model of Christian peni-
tence to the end of time, may also have been of
unspeakable value, as opening to His children a manner
of doing Him honour, and of repairing scandals which
may have been given, of which they might have had no
example in His hfetime but for the blessed Mary of
Magdala. Afterwards He was to use her devotion to
Him for another great example of the same order, and
now He uses her for the instruction of the Church in the
matter of public atonement for public sins.
It may also be considered that our Lord was always
looking forward to the great sacraments which He was to
leave behind Him in the Church, and seizing opportuni-
ties as they occurred for preparing the minds of men for
the inestimable treasures which were to be stored up in
those sacraments. We shall find Him, very soon after
this, working two great miracles with reference to the
ineffable love with which He has made Himself our food
in the adorable Sacrament of the Altar. We have already
seen Him, in the case of the miracle on the paralytic,
preparing the minds of men for His love in the other
great Sacrament of Penance. This incident of the
penitence of Mary may be considered as an act of the
same sort, arranged by our Lord in the Providence of
His Father to bear fresh witness to His assertion of the
power to forgive sins. Both the action of blessed Mary,
and our Lord's part in the incident, have a bearing on
the doctrine of the Sacrament of Penance, and we may
understand our Lord's pronouncement of absolution on
the penitent before Him, after she had performed her
public satisfaction, as testifying to this truth. If she be
considered as having given public scandal by her former
life, she might now be made an example of what was
afterwards to become a rule, the exaction of the repara-
tion of the public scandal before the imparting of abso-
382 The Pardon of Magdalene.
lution. It need not be contended that she was not in a
state of grace before the reparation was made, but it is
still beautifully illustrative of the Catholic doctrine that
our Lord should not, as a matter of fact, pronounce the
words of absolution over her, or declare her publicly to
be absolved, without the self-humiliation and avowal of
her state, which He may not indeed have imposed upon
her, but which may still have been suggested to her by
inspirations which came from Him, in order that her case
might present, to the Church for all ages, the perfect
order of the restoration of a fallen soul.
What has now been said of our Lord's part in this
scene of the penitence of Mary, and of His conduct
therein as the Physician of the soul, and as the Founder
of the Sacrament of Penance, might have been said,
perhaps, if the Pharisee had never thought within himself
what he did think concerning our Lord, and so suggested
to Him the words in which He took up the cause, so to
say, of the poor woman of whom Simon thought so
lightly. But there is a part of our Lord's action in this
matter which was certainly occasioned by the criticism
of the Pharisee. Our Lord was ever ready to defend the
objects of criticism, even mental, when the occasion pre-
sented itself, and no one is recorded as having so often
been defended by Him as this blessed penitent, who
always leaves her cause to Him without a word for her-
self. In this way our Lord was, as it were, bound by
His own generosity and delicate gratitude for any honour
that was done to Him, to take up her defence, and this
even if He had had no other reason for speaking in
answer to the cavils of Simon. And it must be considered
that those cavils had a great effect in putting the remarks
of our Lord in the shape in which we actually have
them. If there had been no Pharisee to criticise, He
might have simply given her the assurance of her pardon
The Pardon of Magdalene. 383
and sent her away. He might still have said, ' Thy sins
are forgiven thee/ but He would not have put the short
parable of the two debtors before Simon, and He would
not have drawn the comparison between his slender love
and the magnificent devotion of Magdalene. She would
still have loved much and have deserved that our Lord
should say so of her. The comparison between Simon
and Magdalene is forced on our Lord by Simon himself.
If we look upon our Lord's answer to Simon in this
light, it will be seen to have the same character of Divine
courtesy and gentleness w^hich is to be found in His answers
to the same kind of criticism on other occasions like
this. When He was found fault with for eating and
drinking with pubHcans and sinners. He replied gently,
that they that are whole need not a physician, but they
that are sick. 'I am not,' He said, 'come to call the
just, but sinners to penance.' The same thing is in-
sinuated in His answer to the objection of the same kind,
when He delivered the three parables of the lost sheep,
the lost groat, and the prodigal son. He is more severe
when others are found fault with, but when it is Himself
Who is blamed He is not severe. Thus, even in the
present case. His w^ords tend to show that the woman
was not so sinful as Simon supposed her to be, because
she had already been forgiven her many sins. It was a
question of a sinner after forgiveness, not before. Here
He takes Simon as it were on his own valuation, and
points out to him why it was clear that he could not have
had so many sins forgiven him. He does this, indeed,
in a way that implied a sort of complaint of his want of
courtesy, but it is after all a humble and almost apologetic
tone that He assumes. He is like the father of the
prodigal in His own parable, who almost begs the pardon
of the elder son for having welcomed the returning sinner
with so many demonstrations of joy. ' She has outdone
384 The first work of Magdalene.
you,' He seems to say, ' in her marks of love for Me, but
this is not to be wondered at, for I have done more for
her in forgiving her sins than for you, for she had more
sins for Me to forgive.' Thus, in His dealing with Simon
the Pharisee, as well as in His treatment of the Magda-
lene, and in the arrangement of the whole incident for
the benefit of the Church, we see the gracious wisdom
and tender consideration which belong to the Sacred
Heart.
CHAPTER XXL
TJie first work of Magdalene.
St. Luke viii. i — 3 ; Vita VitcB Nostra, § 55.
As we are not certain of the city in which the anointing
of our Lord by the blessed Magdalene took place, we
cannot tell whether He was at the time residing for a few
days at Capharnaum, or in the midst of one of His
missionary circuits throughout Galilee, on which the
greater portion of his time was now expended. St. Luke,
however, places immediately after the account of this first
anointing, and of the words of our Lord spoken on
that occasion, the statement that after this 'it came to
pass that He travelled afterwards' — the Greek word
apparently signifying a period of time which began
from this point — * through the cities and towns,
preaching and evangelising the Kingdom of God, and
the twelve with Him. And certain women who had
been healed of evil spirits and infirmities, Mary, who is
called Magdalene, out of whom seven devils were gone
forth, and Joanna, the wife of Chuza, Herod's steward,
and Susanna, and many others, who ministered unto Him
The first wo7'k of Magdalene. 385
of their substance.' This circumstance must have been
mentioned by the Evangelist as something worthy of note
in the history, and perhaps it may have been a new-
feature in the ordinary practice of our Lord. If our
Lord was followed about from place to place, as has
often been said, by many who were more or less his
regular followers, though not belonging to the particular
body of the Apostles, who were now always with Him, it
would naturally come to be necessary that there should
be some organization for the case of women, who could
not have been allowed to be mingled with the companies
of men. This was the way in the companies who fol-
lowed the preaching of St. Vincent Ferrer, as has been
already mentioned in a former volume of this work.
Here, however, St. Luke gives another reason for the
presence of this holy company, on which it may be as
well to make a few remarks.
It is obvious that when our Lord called the Apostles
to that more continued companionship with Himself,
which became a part of their life after their formal call to
the Apostolate, and especially if they were from that time
vowed or obliged to the observance of poverty, there
must often have been considerably difficulty in providing
for the maintenance of so large a body. It would also
have been inconvenient for the Apostles to go about
begging for sustenance, at a time when they were prob-
ably much occupied in instructing and preparing men for
personal intercourse with our Lord, and perhaps for the
reception of the Sacrament of Baptism. At the same
time it might be inconvenient for the little villages and
towns through which our Lord's course now lay, to be
always charged with the maintenance of so many unex-
pected guests. Perhaps also it was not convenient on
other grounds, to depend entirely on them, as the oppo-
sition to our Lord was now spreading and increasing in
z 36
386 The first work of Magdalene,
activity, and we shall find Him, ere long, almost obliged
to leave Galilee itself, and to keep with Him only the
twelve Apostles. It may have been under such circum-
stances of convenience that this practice of the holy
women following Him, and ministering to Him of their
substance, sprang up, a custom apparently which was
not likely to give any scandal, or to suggest any evil,
among a population like that of Galilee. It came about
naturally, as did the institute of the diaconate in the
Church afterwards, that is, it was adopted by our Lord
when the time came for it to be natural on account of
the needs of the occasion. If it had been merely an
accidental and temporary provision which was not to be
the parent of anything like itself in the Church afterwards,
it is not very likely that it would have been mentioned
by St. Luke in this place. It seems certainly to have
been continuous in the life of our Lord, as the women
who followed him from Galilee and ministered unto Him
are mentioned in the account of the Crucifixion, and we
find some of the names which occur in this passage also
prominent in the narrative of the sepulture and of the
morning of the Resurrection. The time at which this
circuit of Galilee, probably the last made by our Lord,
took place was distant about a year and a half from the
Passion. Thus if these ladies had remained more or
less in constant attendance on our Lord, they must have
formed a little community well knit together, and have
been very familiar with His teaching.
The words of St. Luke only tell us that some of these
holy women had been delivered from devils, and the
first name that he gives is that of the blessed Magdalene,
so called to distinguish her from the other Maries who
are mentioned in the Gospels, our Blessed Lady, Mary
Salome, and Mary the mother of James. This Mary
might have been called Mary of Lazarus, or Mary of
The first work of Magdalene. 387
Bethany, but at the time when she first joined our Lord's
company she was in GaUlee, where she was the possessor,
either in her own right or by marriage, of the small town
and estate of Magdalum. It is probable that at this
time the family at Bethany was not yet known as such
among the disciples. St. Luke mentions her as an
instance of the dispossessions of which he speaks, and it
may well be thought that her taking her place at once
among the ladies trusted with the temporal provision for
our Lord and the Apostles, throws some kind of light on
her previous position. It is certain she must have been
rich, and that in itself is an argument against the. opinion
which places her on the lowest rank of fallen women.
She must have been one who could at once take her
place by the side of Joanna and Susanna. Others of
the company had been healed of ' infirmities,' and their
gratitude, like that of the Magdalene, was permitted to
show itself, in the first instance, by the laborious attend-
ance on the wants of our Lord and His companions to
which they devoted themselves. But although this may
have been the occasion of the formation of this little
community, it does not follow of necessity that these
ladies did nothing more. We find Magdalene somewhat
later than this, sitting at our Lord's feet, listening to His
discourse, and it cannot be doubted that when our Lord
was teaching, in public or in private, these chosen souls
were among His most constant hearers. Another great
object of this little body was probably to deal as inter-
mediates between our Lord and the great numbers of
their own sex and of children who might require particular
instruction. This must have been difficult to His
disciples on account of the great distance which was
observed between the sexes in those times. The few
words of St. Luke can thus be easily expanded, until
they furnish us with the outlines of a very beautiful and
388 The fii^st wo7^k of Magdalene.
happy picture of these first ' companions ' of Jesus
Christ.
It would seem that this example in our Lord's Life
was followed in that of His Apostles. We know more
of the life of St. Paul than of any of the others, and for
good reasons connected with his special office as the
Apostle of the Gentiles, St. Paul was one of those of
the Apostolic band who did not allow of this practice
in his own case. But he especially mentions, in his
Epistle to the Corinthians,^ in which he has to defend
himself against the attacks of those who wish to put him
on a lower level from the original Twelve, that he had
a perfect right to be attended by a lady, as was done by
St. Peter and other Apostles, just as he had a right to
be supported by those to whom he preached, a right
which, as he tells us, was the case in reference to that
other just named, he waived for holy reasons of his
own. He waived that other right just mentioned, that
he might have the glory of serving our Lord at his
own cost, working with his hands for his own mainten-
ance But we cannot doubt that St. Paul was guided
to this resolution by an exquisite instinct of Christian
and Apostolic prudence, seeing as he did the great
danger which might arise in the Gentile communities
unless he could show in his own person the most
absolute disinterestedness. In truth, the very ground
of the charge made against him, which, implied that
he had not the same authority as the older Apostles,
was probably chosen in order to invalidate the great
effect on the converts, and the Gentile world generally,
of his great humility and entire independence of all
temporal ends. This may have been one sufficient
reason why St. Paul did not do as other Apostles, with
regard to the services of devout ladies.
1 I Cor. ix.
The first work of Magdalene. 389
But it is also far from unlikely, that in a society so
extremely corrupt as that of the Greek world in which
St. Paul chiefly preached, where men also were familiar
with the scandalous lives and professional impurities of
the priestesses of the heathen worship, it would not have
been edifying or free from scandal for the Apostle to
travel about in company with a woman or with a number
of women. But St. Paul seems to take care to witness
to the lawfulness of the custom, to which he did not
think it well to conform, and it is probable that we have
in this practice of our Lord, and of the Apostles after
Him, the beginning of the institutions of the early
Church, in which so much use was made of widows
and consecrated virgins, whether as deaconesses or
otherwise. Further still, we may see in this holy practice
the beginning of that great elevation of woman, which
is the characteristic glory of the Christian religion, and
the foundation, so to speak, on something in our Lord's
own Life, of the marvellous and glorious services which
women have rendered, and do still render, to the
Christian community in so many various ways. It was
well that the consecration of women should begin by
active employment of the devout sex in works of zeal
and charity for the support of the temporal needs of our
Lord Himself, and that the other forms which were
afterwards to be taken by female devotion, should, as
it were, grow out of the original and highest privilege
of ministering to no one less than Him.
It is also worthy of remark that we have here a third
stage, as it may be called, in the life of the blessed
Magdalene. We hear of her first at our Lord's feet, but
we are told that before that she had been the slave of
sin, and had had seven devils cast out of her. The
second scene, then, in her life is the scene of which we
have just had the account, the scene in the banquet-
390 The first work of Magdalene,
chamber of Simon the Pharisee. But immediately after
this we find her thus actively engaged in the service of
our Lord and of the Apostles. We meet her next in
the house at Bethany, where again she is at our Lord's
feet, listening to His words. Thus she alternates between
the life of active devotion and the life of quiet contem-
plation, for next after this we find her again anointing
our Lord at the Supper at Bethany. It seems as if she
were to be, to all times in the Church, not simply the
pattern and model of penitents, who, after they have
been pardoned, strive to wipe away their debt to God
by hard and active labours for our Lord, nor simply the
model of contemplative souls, leaving everything else for
the sake of communion with God, but also the mother
and model of the life which combines, or at least alter-
nates, activity with contemplation, the part of Martha
with that best portion which our Lord afterwards praised
Mary herself for having chosen.
This service of our Lord and the Apostles in temporal
matters, which was now begun by the blessed Magdalene
and her associates, may very well be considered in the
light of a continuation of that glorious action of hers of
which we have just had to speak at length. For the
washing of His sacred feet and the anointing them with
her precious ointment, was a kind of personal service, a
part of which, at all events, might have been supplied by
the Pharisee who had invited him to share his hospitality.
Nor can we doubt that the same spirit of loving grati-
tude, which made it so easy and delightful to this queen
of penitents to sacrifice her own dignity, as it might have
been said by her former friends, to the humiliation of a
public service of a menial character to Him to Whom
she owed so much, was the animating motive of all the
services of the kind mentioned by St. Luke, as rendered
henceforward by these holy ladies to our Lord and His
The first work of Magdalene. 391
companions. From the washing of our Lord's feet in
the house of Simon, to the continuous waiting upon Him
and the Apostles for the purpose of supplying their
temporal needs, would be a transition requiring no new
motive. And this thought may help us to enter into
the minds and affections of these first most blessed
sen-ants of our Lord in this kind of work. Magdalene
and the others would look on each one of the numberless
services of which their life was now made up, as an act
of penitential and grateful lov^e for our Lord's Sacred
Person. And the countless women now consecrated in
the Church to similar offices, in which our Lord and
His Apostles are represented by the poor, the sick, by
orphans, and children, and the afflicted in every kind
of calamity, may find both encouragement and strength
in the thought that they are walking along a path of life
whose first professors were these dear personal friends of
our Lord Himself.
APPENDIX.
Harmony of the Gospels as to the Second Period
of the Public Life.
FROM THE ELECTION OF THE TWELVE APOSTLES TO THE CONVERSION
OF ST, MARY MAGDALENE.
§ 46. — Choice of the Twelve Apostles.
Mark iii. 13 — 19.
And going up into a moun-
tain, He called unto Him
whom He would Himself,
and they came to Him. And
He made that twelve should
be with Him, and that He
might send them to preach.
And He gave them power to
heal sicknesses, and to cast
out devils. And to Simon
He gave the name Peter,
and James the son of Zebe-
dee, and John the brother of
James, and He named them
Boanerges, which is, the sons
of thunder. And Andrew,
and Philip, and Bartholomew
and Matthew, and Thomas,
and James of Alphaeus, and
Simon the Canansean, and
Judas Iscariot, who also be-
trayed Him.
Luke vi. 12 — 16.
And it came to pass in
those days, that He went
out into a mountain to pray,
and He passed the whole
night in the prayer of God.
And when day was come. He
called unto Him His disci-
ples, and He chose twelve
of them (whom also He
named Apostles), Simon,
whom He surnamed Peter,
and Andrew his brother,
James and John, Philip and
Bartholomew, Matthew and
Thomas, James the son of
Alphaeus, and Simon who is
called Zelotes, and Jude the
brother of James, and Judas
Iscariot, who was the traitor.
§ 47. — The Se7'moti on the Plain.
PART THE FIRST.
Luke vi. 17 — 26.
And coming down with great multitude of people
them, He stood in a place on from all Judaea and Jeru-
a plain, and the company of salem, and the sea-coast
His disciples, and a very both of Tyre and Sidon, who
Harmony of the Gospels.
393
Luke vi. i8 — 26.
were come to hear Him, and
to be healed of their diseases.
And they that were troubled
with unclean spirits were
cured. And all the multi-
tude sought to touch Him,
for virtue went out from Him,
and healed all. And He,
lifting up His eyes on His
disciples, said,
Blessed are ye poor, for
yours is the kingdom of God.
Blessed are ye that hunger
now, for you shall be filled.
Blessed are ye that weep
now, for you shall laugh.
Blessed shall you be when
men shall hate you, and when
they shall separate you, and
shall reproach you, and cast
out your name as evil, for the
Son of Man's sake. Be glad
in that day and rejoice, for
behold, your reward is great
in heaven. For according to
these things did their fathers
to the prophets.
But wo to you that are
rich, for you have your con-
solation.
Wo to you that are filled,
for you shall hunger. Wo to
you that now laugh, for you
shall mourn and weep.
Wo to you when men shall
bless you, for according to
these things did their fathers
to the false prophets.
48. — The Sennofi on the Plain.
PART THE SECOND.
Luke vi. 27 — 38.
But I say to you that hear.
Love your enemies, do good
to them that hate you. Bless
them that curse you, and
pray for them that calumniate
you. And to him that striketh
thee on the one cheek, offer
also the other. And him that
taketh away from thee thy
cloak, forbid not to take thy
coat also. Give to every one
that asketh thee, and of him
that taketh away thy goods,
ask them not again. And as
you would that men should
do to you, do you also to
them in like manner.
And if you love them that
love you, what thanks are to
you ? for sinners also love
those that love them. And
if you do good to them who
do good to you, what thanks
are to you? for sinners also
do this. And if you lend to
them of whom you hope to
receive, what thanks are to
you ? for sinners also lend
to sinners,^ for to receive as
much.
But love ye your enemies,
do good, and lend, hoping for
nothing thereby, and your
reward shall be great, and
you shall be the sons of the
Highest, for He is kind to
the unthankful, and to the
evil. Be ye therefore mer-
ciful, as your Father also is
merciful.
394
Harmony of the Gospels,
Luke vi.
Judge not, and you shall
not be judged. Condemn not,
and you shall not be con-
demned. Forgive, and you
shall be forgiven. Give, and
it shall be given to you, good
measure and pressed down
37—38.
and shaken together and run-
ning over shall they give into
your bosom. For with the
same measure that you shall
mete withal, it shall be mea-
sured to you again.
§ 49. — The Ser 711011 on the Plain.
PART THE THIRD.
Luke vi. 39 — 49.
And He spoke also to them
a similitude. Can the blind
lead the blind t do they not
both fall into the ditch ? The
disciple is not above his
master, but every one shall
be perfect, if he be as his
master.
And why seest thou the
mote in thy brother's eye, but
the beam th"at is in thy own
eye thou considerest not ?
Or how canst thou say to thy
brother. Brother, let me pull
the mote out of thy eye, when
thou thyself seest not the
beam in thy own eye? Hypo-
crite, cast first the beam out
of thy own eye, and then
shalt thou see clearly to take
out the mote Trom thy
brother's eye.
For there is no good tree
that bringeth forth evil fruit,
nor an evil tree that bringeth
forth good fruit. For every
tree is known by its fruit.
For men do not gather figs
from thorns, nor from a
bramble bush do they gather
the grape. A good man out
of the good treasure of his
heart bringeth forth that
which is good, and an evil
man out of the evil treasure
bringeth forth that which is
evil. For out of the abund-
ance of the heart the mouth
speaketh.
And W'hy call you Me,
Lord, Lord, and do not the
things which I say ? Every
one that cometh to Me, and
heareth My words, and doth
them, I will show you to
whom he is like. He is like
to a man building a house,
who digged deep, and laid
the foundation upon a rock,
and when a flood came, the
stream beat vehemently upon
that house, and it could not
shake it, for it was founded
on a rock. But he that hear-
eth, and doth not, is like to a
man building his house upon
the earth without a founda-
tion, against which the stream
beat vehemently, and imme-
diately it fell, and the ruin of
that house was great.
Harmony of the Gospels.
195
§ 50. — The Centurion^ s Servant.
Luke vii. i — 10.
And wlien He had finished
all His Avords in the hearing
of the people, He entered
into Capharnaum. And the
servant of a certain centurion,
who was dear to him, being
sick, was ready to die. And
when he had heard of Jesus,
he sent to Him the ancients
of the Jews, desiring Him to
come and heal his servant.
And when they came to Jesus,
they besought Him earnestly,
saying to Him, He is worthy
that Thou shouldst do this
for him. For he loveth our
nation, and he hath built us
a synagogue.
And Jesus went with them.
And when He was now not
far from the house, the cen-
turion sent his friends to Him,
saying. Lord, trouble not
Thyself, for I am not worthy
that Thou shouldst enter
under my roof. For which
cause neither did I think my-
self worthy to come to Thee,
but say the word, and my
ser\-ant shall be healed. For
I also am a man subject to
authority, having under me
soldiers, and I say to this,
Go, and he goeth, and to
another. Come, and he Com-
eth ; and to my servant, Do
this, and he doeth it.
And Jesus hearing this
marvelled, and turning about
to the multitude that followed
Him, He said. Amen I say to
you, I have not found so
great faith, not even in Israel.
And they who were sent,
being returned to the house,
found the servant whole who
had been sick.
Matt viii, 5 — 13.
{^Another account.')
And when He had entered
into Capharnaum, there came
to Him a centurion, beseech-
ing Him, and saying. Lord,
my servant licth at home
sick of the palsy, and is
grievously tormented. And
Jesus said to him, I will come
and heal him.
And the centurion making
answer, said. Lord, I am not
worthy that Thou shouldst
enter under my roof, but only
say the word, and my servant
shall be healed. For I also
am a man subject to authority,
having under me soldiers,
and I say to this, Go, and he
goeth ; and to another. Come,
and he cometh, and to my
servant, Do this, and he
doeth it.
And Jesus hearing this,
marvelled, and said to them
that followed Him, Amen I
say to you, I have not found
so great faith in Israel.
And I say to you that
many shall come from the
east and the west, and shall
sit down with Abraham, and
Isaac, and Jacob, in the king-
dom of heaven. But the chil-
dren of the kingdom shall be
396
Harmony of the Gospels,
Matt. viii. 12 — 13,
cast out into the exterior
darkness, there shall be
weeping and gnashing of
teeth.
And Jesus said to the cen-
turion, Go, and as thou hast
believed, so be it done to
thee. And the servant was
healed at the same hour.
Mark iii. 20, 21.
And they came to a house,
and the multitude cometh
together again, so that they
could not so much as eat
bread. And when His friends
had heard of it, they went
out to lay hold on Him. For
they said : He is become
mad.
§ 51. — The Widow's Son raised.
Luke vii. 11-
And it came to pass after-
wards that He went into a
city that is called Nairn, and
there went with Him His
disciples and a great multi-
tude. And when He came
nigh to the gate of the city,
behold a dead man was
carried out, the only son of
his mother, and she was a
widow : and a great multitude
of the city was with her.
Whom when the Lord had
seen, being moved with mercy
towards her, He said to her,
Weep not. And He came
near and touched the bier.
And they that carried it,
stood still. And He said,
Young man, I say to thee,
arise. And he that was dead
sat up, and began to speak.
And He gave him to his
mother. And there came a
fear on them all, and they
glorified God, saying, a great
prophet is risen up among
us, and God hath visited His
people.
§ 52. — The disciples of St. John sent to our Lord.
Matt. xi. 2 — 6. Luke vii. 17 — 23.
And this rumour of Him
went forth throughout all
Judaea, and throughout all
the country round about.
And John's disciples told
him of all these things.
And John called to him
two of his disciples, and sent
Now when John had heard
in prison the works of Christ,
Harjiiony of the Gospels.
397
sending two of his disciples,
he said to Him, Art Thou He
that art to come, or look we
for another ?
And Jesus making answer,
said to them. Go and relate
to John what you have heard
and seen. ' The blind see,
the lame walk, the lepers are
made clean, the deaf hear,
the dead rise again, the poor
have the Gospel preached to
them.'i And blessed is he that
shall not be scandalized in
Me.
them to Jesus, saying, Art
Thou He that art to come,
or look we for another ? And
when the men were come
unto Him, they said, John
the Baptist hath sent us to
Thee, saying, Art Thou He
that art to come, or look we
for another ?
(And in that same hour,
He healed many of their
diseases, and hurts, and evil
spirits, and to many that
were blind He gave sight.)
And answering. He said
to them. Go and relate to
John what you have heard
and seen. ' The blind see,
the lame walk, the lepers are
made clean, the deaf hear,
the dead rise again, the poor
have the Gospel preached to
them.' And blessed is he that
shall not be scandalized in
Me.
§ 53. — Oicr Lorcfs witness to St. John Baptist.
Matt, xi, 7 — 15.
And when they went their
way, Jesus began to speak to
the multitudes concerning
John, What went you out
into the desert to see ? a reed
shaken with the wind ? But
what went you out to see ? a
man clothed in soft garments?
Behold, they that are clothed
in soft garments are in the
houses of kings. But what
went you out to see '^. a pro-
phet ? yea, I tell you, and
more than a prophet. For
this is he of whom it is writ-
ten, Behold I send My Angel
Luke vii. 24 — 35.
And when the messengers
of John were departed, He
began to speak to the multi-
tudes concerning John. What
went you out into the desert
to see ? a reed shaken with
the wind ? But what went
you out to see? a man clothed
in soft garments ? Behold,
they that are in costly appa-
rel and live delicately, are in
the houses of kings. But
what went you out to see ? a
prophet ? Yea, I tell you,
and more than a prophet.
This is he of whom it is
1 Isaias xxix. 18, 19 ; xxxv. 5, 6 ; Ixi. i ; xxvi. 19.
398
Harmony of the Gospels,
Matt. xi. II — 19.
before Thy face, who shall
prepare Thy way before
Thee.-^ Amen I say to you,
there hath not risen among
them that are born of women
a greater than John the Bap-
tist, yet he that is the lesser
in the kingdom of heaven is
greater than he.
And from the days of John
the Baptist until now, the
kingdom of heaven suffereth
violence, and the violent bear
it away. For all the prophets
and the law prophesied until
John. And if you will receive
it. He is Elias that is to come.
Luke vii. 27 — 35.
written, Behold I send My
Angel before Thy face, who
shall prepare Thy way before
Thee. For I say to you,
Amongst those that are born
of women, there is not a
greater prophet than John
the Baptist. But he that is
the lesser in the kingdom of
God, is greater than he.
him hear.
But whereunto shall I liken
this generation ? It is like to
children sitting in the market-
place, who crying to their
companions, say, We have
piped to you, and you have
not danced, we have la-
mented, and you have not
mourned. For John came
neither eating nor drinking,
and they say, He hath a devil.
The Son of Man came eating
and drinking, and they say,
Behold a man that is a glut-
ton and a wine-drinker, a
friend of publicans and sin-
ners. And wisdom is justi-
fied by her children.
2 Mai.
And all the people hearing,
and the publicans, justified
God, being baptized with
John's baptism. But the
Pharisees and the lawyers
despised the counsel of God
against themselves, being not
baptized by him.
And the Lord said, Where-
unto then shall I liken the
men of this generation ? and
to what are they like ? They
are like to children sitting in
the market-place, and crying
one to another, and saying,
We have piped to you, and
you have not danced, we
have lamented, and you have
not wept. For John the
Baptist came neither eating
bread nor drinking wine, and
you say. He hath a devil.
The Son of Man is come
eating and drinking, and you
say, Behold a man that is a
glutton and a wine-drinker,
Harmony of the Gospels.
299
Luke vii. 35.
a friend of publicans and
sinners. And wisdom is justi-
fied by all her children.
§ 54. — The proud condemned and the hiunble chosen.
Matt. xi. 20-
Then began He to upbraid
the cities wherein were done
the most of His miracles, for
that they had not done pen-
ance. Wo to thee, Corozain,
wo to thee, Bethsaida, for if
in Tyre and Sidon had been
wrought the miracles that
have been wrought in you,
they had long ago done pen-
ance in sackcloth and ashes.
But I say unto you, it shall
be more tolerable for Tyre
and Sidon in the day of
judgment than for you. And
thou, Capharnaum, shalt thou
be exalted up to heaven?
thou shalt go down even unto
hell. For if in Sodom had
been wrought the miracles
that have been wrought in
thee, perhaps it had remained
unto this day. But I say unto
you, that it shall be more
tolerable for the land of
Sodom in the day of judg-
ment, than for thee.
-30-
At that time Jesus answered
and said, I confess to Thee,
O Father, Lord of heaven
and earth, because Thou hast
hid these things from the
wise and prudent, and hast
revealed them to little ones.
Yea, Father, for so hath it
seemed good in Thy sight.
All things are delivered to
Me by Aly Father. And no
one knoweth the Son, but the
Father, neither doth any one
know the Father but the Son,
and he to whom it shall
please the Son to reveal Him.
Come to Me all you that
labour, and are burdened,
and I will refresh you. Take
up My yoke upon you, and
learn of Me, because I am
meek, and humble of heart,
and you shall find rest to
your souls. For My yoke is
sweet, and My burden light.
§ 55. — Mary Magdalene comes to our Lord.
Luke vii. 36 — 50 ; viii. i — 3.
And one of the Pharisees
desired Him to eat with him.
And He went into the house
of the Pharisee, and sat down
to meat.
And behold a woman that
was in the city, a sinner,
when she knew that He sat at
meat in the Pharisee's house,
brought an alabaster box of
400
Harmony of the Gospels.
Luke vii, 38 — 50.
ointment, and standing be-
hind at His feet, she began
to wash His feet with tears,
and wipe them with the hairs
of her head, and kissed His
feet, and anointed them with
the ointment.
And the Pharisee, who had
invited Him, seeing it, spoke
within himself, saying, This
man, if He were a prophet,
would know surely who and
what manner of woman this
is that toucheth Him, that
she is a sinner.
And Jesus answering, said
to him, Simon, I have some-
what to say to thee. But he
said, Master, say it. A cer-
tain creditor had two debtors,
the one owed five hundred
pence, and the other fifty.
And whereas they had not
wherewith to pay, he for-
gave them both. Which there-
fore of the t\vo loveth him
most?
Simon, answering, said, I
suppose that he to whom he
forgave most. And He said
to him, Thou hast judged
rightly.
And turning to the woman,
He said unto Simon, Dost
thou see this woman ? I
entered into thy house, thou
gavest Me no water for My
feet ; but she with tears hath
washed My feet, and with
her hair hath wiped them.
Thou gavest Me no kiss, but
she, since she came in, hath
not ceased to kiss My feet.
My head with oil thou didst
not anoint, but she with oint-
ment hath anointed My feet.
Wherefore I say to thee,
Many sins are forgiven her,
because she hath loved much.
But to whom less is forgiven,
he loveth less.
And He said to her, Thy
sins are forgiven thee.
And they that sat at meat
with Him began to say within
themselves, Who is this that
forgiveth sins also.'* And He
said to the woman. Thy faith
hath made thee safe, go in
peace.
Luke viii
And it came to pass, after-
wards, that He travelled
through the cities and towns,
preaching and evangelizing
the kingdom of God, and the
twelve with Him. And cer-
tain women who had been
healed of evil spirits and in-
1—3-
firmities, Mary, who is called
Magdalene,outof whom seven
devils were gone forth, and
Joanna, the wife of Chusa,
Herod's steward, and Su-
sanna, and many others who
ministered unto Him of their
substance.
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