These publicans, on the other hand, were not in any way a religious set of people; they did not pretend, like the Pharisees, to be so, nor were they in point of fact. They were called publicans because they collected the public taxes; they were blamed by the people, and with good reason, for extorting money unjustly from the poor. Their business was really, in those times, a proximate occasion of sin; this was the reason why St. Matthew, who was a publican before our Lord called him to be an apostle, never went back to his business again, as St. Peter did to his innocent occupation as a fisherman. The publican of this parable also, no doubt, had either made up his mind to give up his sinful life or was endeavoring to do so.
Both of these men, the Pharisee and the publican, were sinners. In that they were alike; the difference between them was that the publican acknowledged that he was a sinner and was trying to amend his life, while the Pharisee thought that he was perfect, or that, if he had any faults, they were such as no one could avoid, and which his Maker would readily overlook, especially in a person of his exalted piety.
Now, I said in the beginning that there were not supposed to be any Pharisees nowadays: but I think that we shall find that there are some people of this kind, even among us Christians; and perhaps, if we go down very deep into our own consciences, we shall even find that we are Pharisees ourselves.
Some of these Pharisees make excellent confessions. They show a care in their examination of conscience equal to that of the saints; they have the most accurate knowledge of every fault, and are willing to go into every detail, if they are permitted to do so. This delicacy of perception of sin is a quality which certainly commands our admiration; but there is a circumstance which prevents this admiration from being quite unlimited.This circumstance is that the faults which they are so keenly alive to are not their own. They are those of other people with whom they live, or of whom they hear through some person of the same sort of sensitive conscience that they themselves have.
The world, in the eyes of these sensitive people, certainly has a melancholy aspect. Everybody is doing wrong, and nobody is doing right—nobody, that is, except themselves. They, thank God! are not so bad. They are innocent sufferers, enduring a continual martyrdom at the hands of these wicked people who live in the same house or close by. Their only consolation here below is to tell their friends how much they suffer, and how much others suffer, from these sinners. Others, it is true, may deserve it, but they themselves certainly never have. They wish that they were dead and out of reach of their persecutors. The most curious thing is that one of their great causes of annoyance is the way that other people will carry stories; this is the story that they spend their lives in carrying.
Perhaps you think this picture is overdrawn. I hope it is. And I do not believe that many people are such thorough Pharisees as these whom I have described. But there is too much, a great deal too much, of the Pharisaic spirit about us all.
And not nearly enough of the spirit of the publican—of humility, contrition, and purpose of amendment. How shall we acquire this spirit By looking into our own conscience, unpleasant as it may be, and letting those of our neighbors alone.If we sincerely examine our own hearts we shall not thank God that we are not like others, but rather pray to him that we may, before we die, have something like the perfection that many others have already reached; and ask him, as the publican did, to have mercy on us sinners—on us poor sinners, who are trying to be so no more.
That is the way, and the only way, that we sinners can get into the company of the saints; not by fancying ourselves there already. If we wish, then, to reach that blessed company, let us start on this way at once, for there is no time to lose.
Every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled;and he that humbleth himself shall be exulted.—St. Luke xviii. 14.
One does not need to be a Christian, my dear brethren, to understand, as it would seem, the truth of these words of our Lord. Everybody knows that a man who is all the time praising himself, or who even shows that he has a pretty good opinion of himself, loses by it in the opinion of others. He does not even get as much credit for ability or virtue as he really deserves, besides being considered as stuck up and conceited, which everybody feels to be a defect. In fact, a man who is evidently very proud makes himself ridiculous.
And, on the other hand, one who is modest and unassuming generally is supposed to be more clever than he really is. People sometimes get a reputation for learning and depth of thought by simply holding their tongue—so convinced is the world that a really great man will not make a parade of his greatness.
But this lesson of worldly prudence is not the real meaning of our Saviour's words. He does not wish to show us how to get a reputation for learning or for anything else. This would be merely encouraging and helping our vanity and pride. What he wishes to teach us is humility. He wants us to humble ourselves really; not to pretend to do so, that we may be more esteemed by the world.
Why, then, if that is the object, does he promise us that if we humble ourselves we shall be exalted? That, it would seem, could be no inducement to a man who had real humility. Such a man would not want to be exalted, you will say. Ah! there is where you are mistaken. Every humble man, every really good man, does want to be exalted. The saints, who are the models of humility for us, wanted it more than any one else in the world.
This may sound strange, but it is undoubtedly true. For what is it to be exalted in the true sense of the word?
It is to get near to God, who is the Most High. And the more one loves God the more does he wish to be near him; so all those who love God wish to be thus exalted and the saints more than all, because they love God more than any one else.
And this exaltation, which comes from being near to Almighty God, is what he promises, in these words of the Gospel, to the humble and refuses to the proud. This was what he gave to the publican and refused to the Pharisee; for he gave the publican his grace and his friendship, but the Pharisee failed to receive it on account of his pride. "This man," says our Lord, "went down to his house justified rather than the other"—that is, nearer to God, and therefore more exalted.
The humble, then, will be raised into the friendship of God, and the proud will not. Nor can they come near him in any other way. He is too high above us for us to come near him except on his own terms. You cannot get near Almighty God by making the most of your natural powers, any more than you can get near the stars by going on the roof of your house. Some people in old times thought to scale the heavens by building a high tower; but God confounded their pride, and the tower of Babel is a byword for human folly and presumption to this day.
Let us, then, my dear brethren, not follow their example. Let us seek truly to be exalted, but in the way that he has appointed, in the way that his saints have chosen, and especially the way of Our Blessed Lady, the nearest to him and the humblest of all. And, in fact, if we really wish for this true exaltation it must needs be in this way; for if we really wish to be near God it must be for the love of him; and if we love him we must often think of him; and if we often think of him we must be humble; for how can the creature be proud who often thinks of the Creator of heaven and earth?
Every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled;and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.—St. Luke xviii. 14.
It is a blessed and a happy moment, a sort of turning-point in life, my brethren, for any one of us when he wakes up to the conviction that he is nothing extraordinary after all. That is, if there is such a moment; for sometimes this conviction dawns on one gradually.
Almost every one begins life with the other idea. Not that he has it himself at the start, but his friends have it for him. Almost every baby is considered, as you know, to be the finest and most beautiful one that ever was seen. Perhaps he does not quite come up afterward to the expectations of his fond parents; but at least he is remarkable in some way. He is a very clever boy, or a very good boy, or, at any rate, he could be if he wanted to; he has got it in him; he is much finer in some respects, perhaps in a great many, than the common run. He is going to turn out a great man; he is much more likely to be President of the United States than any other boy of his age.
And by the time he has got to man's estate he has a good deal of the same opinion himself. He does not like to have it even hinted that he is at all below par in anything; or if it is plain, even to himself, that he is, then it is a thing of no consequence, or he could excel in it if he chose to. The sorest points are of course those in which his choosing would make no difference. The less said about these the better.
Well, you know all this is what we call pride. Almighty God has mercifully arranged it so that it is generally knocked out of us to some extent as we travel on through the world; but still a good deal of it remains.
It is a thing that gives us a great deal of trouble of mind, and which generally keeps us back a great deal from really excelling in anything. It is a thing, therefore, which it is good to get rid of as soon as we can; and of course, therefore, you all want to know how to do this. I think the Gospel story of to-day throws some light on this point.
The way to do it is the way of the publican, and the way not to do it is that of the Pharisee. And the way of the publican is that of common sense, too.
What is it? It is lo look at and consider our defects, and not our strong points. The publican might have talked like the Pharisee, too. He might have said: "I am a much better fellow than that old Pharisee. I am a good, hearty, generous soul. I treat my friends to the best I have got; and if I do cheat sometimes a little in business I make up for it in charity; and I don't make a show of the good I do and put on a pretence of religion like those canting hypocrites."
And so he might have gone on to the end of the chapter. But he didn't. No; he just went off in a corner all by himself and said: "O God! be merciful to me a sinner." He did not think about his virtues, but about his sins; and when he asked the Lord to be merciful to him he meant that he wanted to amend his life, and was going to do it with the help of God, and imitate the Pharisee, whom he really thought better than himself; for you see he did not think of the sins of the Pharisee, but of his virtues.
I say that his way was of common sense. It is the way we all follow when at work on anything except ourselves. We look at the defects in our work, and not its excellences; and if we have very good sense it seems to us pretty much all defects.
Humility, then, after all, is only common sense. And I think you ought to see pretty well one reason at least why, as our Lord says, he that exalteth himself shall be humbled, and he that humbleth himself exalted.The one who exalts himself, who stops to look at his virtues, is all the time running down, and losing even the little virtue that he admires; while he that really humbles himself is constantly getting better. So humility is necessary for progress. It is so in the things of this world even, and much more so in our spiritual affairs.
Epistle.1Corinthians xv.1-10.
Brethren:I make known unto you the gospel which I preached to you, which also you have received, and wherein you stand: by which also you are saved, if you hold fast after what manner I preached to you, unless you have believed in vain. For I delivered to you first of all, which I also received: how that Christ died for our sins, according to the Scriptures: and that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day, according to the Scriptures: and that he was seen by Cephas, and after that by the eleven. Then was he seen by more than five hundred brethren at once, of whom many remain until this present, and some are fallen asleep. After that he was seen by James, then by all the apostles. And last of all, he was seen also by me, as by one born out of due time. For I am the least of the apostles, who am not worthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace in me hath not been void.
Gospel.St. Mark vii.31-37.
At that time:Jesus going out of the borders of Tyre, came by Sidon to the sea of Galilee, through the midst of the territories of Decapolis. And they bring to him one that was deaf and dumb; and they besought him to lay his hand upon him. And taking him aside from the multitude, he put his fingers into his ears, and spitting, he touched his tongue: and looking up to heaven, he groaned, and said to him: Ephpheta, which is, Be opened. And immediately his ears were opened, and the string of his tongue was loosed, and he spoke right. And he charged them that they should tell no man.But the more he charged them so much the more a great deal did they publish it. And so much the more did they wonder, saying: He hath done all things well; he hath made both the deaf to hear, and the dumb to speak.
He hath made both the deaf to hear,and the dumb to speak.—St. Mark vii. 37.
Our Saviour, in his ministry on earth, no doubt cured a great many deaf and dumb people. The story of this particular cure has been preserved for us on account of the peculiar and significant way in which he performed it. The memory of it is renewed every time that a child is baptized in the Catholic Church.
In the ceremonies of baptism the priest, who represents our Lord in this as in all other sacraments, touches the nostrils and the ears of the infant or adult with his thumb moistened with the saliva of his mouth, saying this same word, "Ephpheta"—that is, "Be opened."
Now, the child or grown person who is brought to baptism is not, as a general thing, deaf or destitute of any of the senses, and the priest does not, in performing this ceremony, work what we should commonly call a miracle, as our Lord did in the cure of this deaf and dumb man. But in baptism what we may call a miracle, because it is so wonderful, though so common, is worked; or rather not one miracle but many. One of them—the one represented by this action of the priest, and also by that of our Saviour in the Gospel—is the opening of the spiritual senses by the words which come from the mouth of God.
This opening of the spiritual senses is a much greater blessing than the opening of the bodily ears. But, unfortunately, most of us who are baptized do not preserve this great grace. As we grow up, instead of seeing and hearing better and better all the time with our spiritual eyes and ears, as we do with our bodily ones, we are too apt to lose the use of them altogether. They get covered over and choked up with the dust of this world; and, after a while, though having eyes we do not see, and having ears we do not hear.
So there are a great many deaf and dumb people besides those who are commonly called so. These deaf and dumb people, however, often talk a good deal, and hear, as it would seem, pretty much everything that is to be heard. But there is only a very little of all the immense amount of talk that comes from their mouths that is of any use to themselves or to their neighbors, and that which they happen to hear that might be of use to them seems to go in at one ear and out at the other.
What is it that the spiritual ear ought to hear? It is the voice of God. The Holy Ghost is all the time speaking to us, either by his own inspirations in our hearts, by our guardian angels, by the voice of the clergy who preach with his authority and in his name, by good books, or by some other means. But we do not listen to his voice; we do not let it reach the ears of our soul, though it may those of our body; and so those ears of the soul, from want of practice, get so deaf that they cannot hear it, though it sound ever so plainly.
And so, becoming deaf, we become dumb also. You know that is always the way. When a person cannot hear at all he is apt to forget how to speak. This is the case with people who become deaf to God's voice. First they do not try to hear it, either because they are careless, or because they do not want to; they stifle his inspirations; they never think of such a thing as reading a spiritual book, and if they listen to sermons it is only to criticise the preacher, not to hear the word of God, which they could find in any Catholic sermon, if they chose. And so, not hearing his voice, their spirit loses its tongue; they forget to pray to him, or, if they do pray, it is only with the lips and not with the heart; they forget to say anything for him or about him to their neighbor; and, worst perhaps of all, they forget to go to confession. That is where their tongues are specially tied. Sometimes they even imagine that if they should go to confession they would have nothing to tell.
To be spiritually deaf and dumb is a great deal worse than to have no bodily senses at all. A man may live without those senses just as with them; but when he is spiritually deaf and dumb, it means that his soul is dead. If, then, you are in this state, or falling into it, rouse yourself while there is time, and beg of our Lord to open your ears that you may hear his voice plainly, for it will not speak to you much more; and to loose your tongue, that it may give glory to his name before you die.
He hath made both the deaf to hear,and the dumb to speak.—St. Mark vii. 37.
There are a good many people, my dear brethren, who are afflicted with a deafness and dumbness a great deal worse than that of the poor man whose cure is recorded in to-day's Gospel. You all know several such people, I think; perhaps you are acquainted with quite a number; it may be even that you are such yourselves. The trouble with the poor man whom our Lord cured was only in his body; the trouble with these people of whom I speak is in their souls. He was deaf and dumb corporally; they are deaf and dumb spiritually. Who are these unfortunate people? They are those who are in the state of mortal sin; who are living day after day in that state, and have been, perhaps, for years. Their souls are deaf; for God is calling to them continually to repent, and they refuse to hear him. Their souls are dumb; for they have had for a long time a confession to make, and that confession is not yet made.
As I said just now, you all know such people. They are easily known. They are the people who let Easter after Easter go by without approaching the sacraments. Their life may be evidently bad; or perhaps, on the other hand, it may seem to be pretty good. They go, it may be, quite regularly to Mass, and observe some of the other laws of the church. But there is one which they neglect, and that is the one which shows their true character. That is the precept of the yearly confession.When it comes to that either they are honest enough to say: "I cannot make up [my] mind to give up my sins, so it will be no use for me to go to confession," or they are dishonest enough to make some wretched excuse, such as: "I have too much reverence for the sacraments to receive them without due preparation, and I have not time to prepare," or, "I am sure I don't know what I would have to say to the priest; I can't think what you people are bothering him for all the time."
My dear brethren, people that make excuses of this kind are like ostriches. These birds, it is said, when pursued, hide their heads in the sand to avoid being seen, leaving their whole bodies exposed. Excuses like these never deceived anybody yet, and never will. Everybody knows that if a man refuses to go to his confession when the church requires him to do so, the reason is that he is living in a way that his conscience reproaches him for, and that he does not choose to live in any other way. Everybody knows that if a man's conscience is really clear he will be very willing to go to the priest and tell him so; and everybody knows that everybody has time to prepare.
No, the fact is that these Christians who live in the state of sin and neglect of their duties are, if not already quite deaf and dumb spiritually, at least rapidly becoming so. Every day the voice of the Holy Ghost is sounding more and more faintly in their ears; every day, instead of bringing them nearer to a good confession, puts them farther away from it. Every day the cure of their spiritual deafness and dumbness is getting more and more difficult, and needing more of a miracle of God's grace to accomplish it. They are like travellers who lie down to rest in the Alpine snows and wake only in the next world.
If any of you, my dear brethren in Christ, who are now here and listen to my voice, which is another call from him to you, are in this fearful state, or are falling into it, may he work that miracle and bring you back to your senses! But whether he is to work it or not depends very much upon yourself. Rouse yourself, then, and ask him to do so while you are yet able.
For a time is coming, and that soon, but too late for you, when he will make you hear and speak indeed, whether you will or no; when the thunders of his eternal judgment shall sound in your ears, and when you will have to confess your sins, not to one man in secret, but before all men and all the angels and saints; and not with the hope of forgiveness, but with the certainty of condemnation. God grant that you may save your soul before that dreadful day, and be able to say with thankfulness, not with terror and despair: "He hath made both the deaf to hear and the dumb to speak."
And taking him aside from the multitude.—St. Mark vii. 33.
I suppose there is no trouble more common to people in the practice of their religion, whether they are particularly pious or not, than distractions at prayer. One's thoughts, perhaps, are pretty well under control while employed in the usual duties of the day; but as soon as the time comes to get on one's knees before God, away go the thoughts over everything under the sun except the words which are in the prayer-book.It really is quite discouraging sometimes; it appears as if our Lord did not want to speak to us or to have us speak to him.
But we know that this is not so. How, then, shall we account for our not hearing his voice, and not being able to say anything worth his hearing, when we set out to pray? How is it that we are so deaf and dumb in his presence?
There are various reasons, no doubt, my brethren, but there is one common to almost all people living in the world; and I think it was this which our Saviour wished to suggest to us when he took the deaf and dumb man aside from the multitude, as we read in to-day's Gospel, before he would work his cure.
He could have cured the man where he was; but he took him aside from the multitude, he got him away from the crowd in which he was, to show us, as it seems to me, that we cannot be cured of our spiritual deafness and dumbness, that we shall never be able to hear God or to speak to him as we should, till we, too, come out of the crowd.
This living all the time in a crowd is really the most common and most fatal obstacle to prayer, at least with those who are really trying to serve God. It is not always that there are so very many people around us; we may make a crowd, a multitude for ourselves out of a very few. The crowd is not so much one of people as of ideas coming from the people and things which we meet with in our daily life. We talk too much; we look around and notice things too much; we read the papers too much—too much for our profit in any way, but especially for acquiring the spirit of prayer.
What wonder is it that it is so hard to pray, and that there are so many distractions? One kneels down at the end of the day and tries to say some evening prayers. There is not a single thought in his or her head like those which are in the prayer-book. And why not? Because there is no room for any. The poor head is packed full of all sorts of other ones coming from the events of the past day or week. All the people one has seen, all the foolish things they have said, the gossip they have retailed, even the clothes they have worn, or perhaps the stories or squibs and the useless and trifling news one has seen in the paper, take up the mind; there is a multitude of reflections and echoes from the sights and sounds of the day, which hide the face of God and drown his voice. It is in vain to say that one cannot help it. Of course one cannot separate one's self from these things altogether. Those who live a life of prayer in the most secluded convent, even the hermits of the desert, have sources of distraction around them and in their past lives. But what is the need of having so many of them? Why not hear less talk and gossip, see fewer people and things, read less useless trash, cultivate silence a little more, and make a little solitude within ourselves, even when we cannot have it outside? If we will not do this, if we will distract ourselves needlessly out of the time of prayer, what wonder if we are distracted in it?
Come out of the multitude, then—the multitude of people that surround you, and of unnecessary thoughts, words, and actions, and see if your spiritual deafness and dumbness will not get better. You will hear a good deal from God, and be able to say a good deal to him that seems impossible now, if you will get a little away from this crowd, and from the noise it makes.
Epistle.2Corinthians iii.4-9.
Brethren:Such confidence we have, through Christ towards God. Not that we are sufficient to think anything of ourselves as of ourselves; but our sufficiency is from God. Who also hath made us fit ministers of the new testament, not in the letter, but in the Spirit. For the letter killeth; but the Spirit giveth life. Now if the ministration of death, engraven with letters upon stones, was glorious, so that the children of Israel could not steadfastly behold the face of Moses, for the glory of his countenance, which is done away: how shall not the ministration of the Spirit be rather in glory? For if the ministration of condemnation be glory, much more the ministration of justice aboundeth in glory.
Gospel.St. Luke x.23-37.
At that time:Jesus said to his disciples: Blessed are the eyes that see the things which you see. For I say to you that many prophets and kings have desired to see the things that you see, and have not seen them: and to hear the things that you hear, and have not heard them. And behold a certain lawyer stood up, tempting him, and saying: Master, what must I do to possess eternal life? But he said to him: What is written in the law? how readest thou? He answering, said: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind: and thy neighbor as thyself." And he said to him: Thou hast answered right: this do, and thou shalt live. But he, willing to justify himself, said to Jesus: And who is my neighbor?And Jesus answering, said: A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among robbers, who also stripped him, and having wounded him, went away, leaving him half dead. And it happened that a certain priest went down the same way, and seeing him, he passed by. In like manner also a Levite, when he was near the place and saw him, passed by. But a certain Samaritan being on his journey came near him; and seeing him was moved with compassion. And going up to him, bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine: and setting him upon his own beast, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. And the next day he took out two pence, and gave to the host, and said: Take care of him: and whatsoever thou shalt spend over and above, I at my return will repay thee. Which of these three in thy opinion was neighbor to him that fell among the robbers? But he said: He that showed mercy to him. And Jesus said to him: Go and do thou in like manner.
Which of these three in thy opinionwas neighbor to him that fell among the robbers?But he said: He that showed mercy to him.And Jesus said to him:Go and do thou in like manner.—St. Luke x. 36, 37.
You would not think it a compliment if one should say that you were a bad neighbor, for that would mean that you were quarrelsome and tale-bearing, that you kept late and noisy hours, that you beat the neighbors' children; perhaps that you would steal something, if you got the chance. So none of us would like to be called a bad neighbor. But let us see how good a neighbor we are, using our Blessed Lord's words read to-day as a text.
As we pass along the road of life here and there we see a neighbor lying half dead. He is stricken down with sickness; his body tormented with racking pains, burning with fever, and perhaps deserted by all—not one left to give him a drink of cold water. What kind of a neighbor are we to this poor brother of ours? When we hear him moan and cry, and ask for a bite of nourishing food, for a little money to buy some medicine, does our heart soften towards him, do we kindly assist him, or do we pass on as if we saw him not, hard of heart like the degraded Jewish priest or the self-sufficient Levite?
And we come across many a poor creature who has fallen among the worst kind of thieves—viz., those who have stripped him of his good name. Alas! you are often forced to stand by and see and hear your neighbor deprived of his reputation by scandal-mongers. How do you act in that case? Does your heart burn with sympathy for him? Do you raise your voice in his defence? Do you correct your children when they engage in such talk? Do you turn out of your house those notorious backbiters and tale-bearers of your neighborhood when they begin their poisonous gossip? If you act in this way you are a good neighbor, a good Samaritan to an outraged and dying brother. But if you fail in this—if you hold your peace when you could say a good word of praise or excuse; if you permit those subject to you to talk ill of others; if you let your house be made a gossip-shop—then, by your silence and your consent, you are like the priest and Levite of this day's Gospel. And if you join in backbiting, why you are worse yet; you are yourself a robber of your neighbors dearest possession, his good name.
But O my brethren! what lot so sad as that of the poor wretch who has fallen into the clutches of Satan and his devils, who has been robbed of God's very grace, his soul killed by mortal sin? The ways of life are full of such poor sufferers. Oh! what pity have you for the poor sinner? What prayers do you offer to God for the conversion of the sinner? What warnings and exhortations do you give him, especially if he be dear to you by ties of blood? What example do you set him? I fear that some of us despise the poor sinner, and feel quite too holy to seek him out, to invite him to hear a sermon, to ask him to come and get the pledge, to try and get him into good company.
Brethren, may God give us grace to be good Samaritans; to have a tender heart and a generous hand for Christ's poor and sick and outcast; to have a charitable word for the saving of our neighbor's good name; and, above all, to be always ready to bind up the spiritual wounds of the sinner by our prayers and example, and to pour healing oil upon them by our exhortations!
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
There are two opposite faults to both of which almost everybody is more or less inclined. The first of these is meddling with other people's business; the second is shirking one's own.
It is rather the second of these than the first which is rebuked in the Gospel of to-day, in the persons of the priest and the Levite who went by without helping the poor wounded man.
Now, in the first place, let me explain what I mean by shirking one's own business or duties. It is not simply leaving them undone and expecting that they will remain so; but it is putting off what one ought to do one's self on to somebody else, and expecting somebody else to do it for you. So it is, you see, just the opposite of meddling, which is trying to do somebody else's duty for him when he would prefer to do it himself.
Now, this shirking was just what the priest and Levite were guilty of. I do not suppose that our Lord meant to describe them as really hard-hearted men, willing to let the poor man die rather than help him; but they said to themselves, "Oh! this is not my business particularly; there are plenty of other people passing along this road all the time, and I am a little hurried now. I have got a deal to attend to, and there will be somebody coming this way before long. Five minutes or so will not make much difference; and perhaps there is not so much the matter with the man after all. It may be his own fault. Very likely he has been drinking. At any rate, he has got no special claim on me."
This is a very natural state of mind for a person to get into, and how common it is, in such a case as this, we can see from the common proverb that "everybody's business is nobody's business."
There are very many good works that really are everybody's business, that everybody ought to do something towards at least, but which are in great danger of not being done at all on account of this habit of shirking which is so common. And the ones which are most in this danger are those of the kind of which this Gospel gives us an example; that is, works of charity toward our neighbor.People say to themselves, just as the priest and Levite did: "Oh! there are plenty of other people that can attend to this matter a great deal better and easier than I can. I am sure it will be done somehow or other. Such things always are attended to. I don't feel specially called on to help in it."
Well, this might be all very good, if those people did really help in some things generously, and the case before them was one of no very urgent need. Of course we cannot contribute to everything. But the difficulty is that too often we find them shirking, not occasionally, but all the time. If a poor man comes to the door, or a collection is taken for the poor in the church, they say to themselves: "The St. Vincent de Paul Society can look out for those things; I am sure they must have money enough. I shall do my duty if I put a few pennies in the poor-box now and then." If contributions are called for in times of famine or pestilence, they say: "There is plenty coming in to supply all that is wanted; I can see that by the papers. They can get along very well without me." And so it goes all the way through. They do not give anything to anybody or do anything for anybody—that is, nothing to speak of—without getting a return for it. They will go to picnics, fairs, or amusements for a charitable object; but when it comes to doing anything simply for the love of their neighbor, that is left for somebody else.
Let us all, then, my brethren, examine ourselves on this point, and resolve to amend and to do our fair share of the work of charity, which is everybody's business; and not, like the priest and the Levite, pass it on to the next man who comes along.
But he, willing to justify himself,said to Jesus: And who is my neighbor?—St. Luke x. 29.
The lawyer of whom the Gospel tells us to-day, my brethren, seems to have wanted to be excused from loving everybody, and to find out just how far the circle of his affections must be extended; or, at least, to get our Lord's opinion on that point. The question which he asked was something like that of St. Peter when he enquired how often he must forgive his brother; though I hardly think the lawyer was as much in earnest as the great Prince of the Apostles to know the answer.
Well, our Saviour, as you see, did not answer the question directly, but told a story which is, or should be, familiar to all of you: the story of the good Samaritan. He made the Samaritan give his judgment on the point, and then approved that judgment.
"Which of these three," he asked of the lawyer after telling him the story, "was neighbor to him that fell among the robbers?" That is, "Which of the three seems to have considered the poor fellow to be his neighbor?" "The Samaritan," replied the lawyer, of course, "because he showed love for him." "Very well, then," said our Lord, "adopt his opinion, for it is the right one. Go and do thou in like manner."
And yet what reason had the Samaritan to consider this man to be his neighbor? He must naturally have supposed him to be a Jew, finding him so near to Jerusalem; and the Samaritans had no very neighborly feeling toward the Jews.The Samaritans and Jews were, in fact, very much like cats and dogs to each other. You may read in the chapter of the Gospel just preceding this how the inhabitants of a certain place in Samaria would not let our Lord into it, simply because he seemed to be going to Jerusalem; and in another of the towns of the Samaritans a woman thought it strange that our Lord, being a Jew, should even presume to ask her for a drink of water. And though this was a good Samaritan who was passing over that road between Jerusalem and Jericho, still he must have had some of the feelings of his people.
The reason why the good Samaritan considered the man his neighbor is, then, plain enough. If he regarded a Jew as his neighbor it was because he regarded every one as such. That was the judgment of his which our Divine Lord approved. Let there be no limit to your charity. Love every one; that is the meaning of his command, just as he told St. Peter to forgive any number of times.
But how few there are who obey this law of his! Some only care for their relations or acquaintances, and regard the rest of the world with the most supreme indifference. Others, on the contrary, live in a perpetual quarrel with almost every one whom they know, though very willing to be friendly with strangers. Others stop at the limit of their own nation or race; a man who is so unfortunate as to speak a foreign language or have a skin somewhat darkly colored is quite beyond the reach of their benevolence.
It is plain enough that this is all wrong. If we would be like our Lord, and do as he commands, we must get over all these feelings. Above all, we must sink for ever out of sight those hateful standing quarrels which are more after the devil's own heart than anything else which he finds in this world; we must drop at once all that humbug about not wishing any harm to Mr. and Mrs. So-and-so, but being never going to speak to them again. It is not enough to wish no harm to any one; we must wish good to every one, and try to do every one all the good that comes in our way; make up our minds to feel kindly to every one, and to show every one that we are willing and anxious to act as we feel. Of course there must be degrees in affection; we are not required to love every one as much as a father or mother, or a son or a daughter; but that no one must be excluded from it; that we must have a positive love for all; that it will not do even to pass by with indifference a single one of our brethren, however seemingly estranged from us—this is the lesson taught us by the parable of the priest, the Levite, and the good Samaritan.
Epistle.Galatians iii.16-22.
Brethren:To Abraham were the promises made, and to his seed. He saith not, "And to his seeds," as of many; but as of one, "And to thy seed," who is Christ. Now this I say, that the testament which was confirmed by God, the law which was made after four hundred and thirty years, doth not disannul, to make the promise of no effect. For if the inheritance be of the law, it is no more of promise. But God gave it to Abraham by promise. Why then was the law? It was set because of transgressions, until the seed should come, to whom he made the promise, being ordained by angels in the hand of a mediator. Now, a mediator is not of one: but God is one. Was the law then against the promises of God? God forbid. For if there had been a law given which could give life, verily justice should have been by the law. But the Scripture hath concluded all under sin, that the promise by the faith of Jesus Christ might be given to them that believe.