The life of heaven is also one of pleasure through the glorified senses. These pleasures, as well as those of the Beatific Vision, are certainly beyond our comprehension. Still, we may form some idea of them by reflecting on the exquisite delights which reach our soul through our senses, in our present state of imperfection. They are so fascinating that the world runs wild with their intoxication. What, then, must they be in heaven, where everything is perfect? For, in that world of God's magnificence, both the senses and their respective objects exist in their highest perfection, which is far from being the case here below.
Now, give free scope to your imagination. Let it roam among the blessed, and flutter from creature to creature. Build up all you can of pure pleasure, and you will never reach any more than the dimmest and faintest shadow of the reality. Gaze upon the glorious body of Jesus Christ, the most perfect and lovely that ever came from the hand of God. It is the very sun that gives beauty to the whole of heaven. Then contemplate the transcendent beauty of the Immaculate Mother, who, next to Jesus, is clothed with the greatest glory. Feed your eyes upon that countless multitude of saints. They are all beautiful, because they have all risen with a body glorified after the likeness of Christ's glorious body. Each one has a beauty and perfection of his own, according to his merits; and the very lowest is clothed with a loveliness far superior to anything ever seen in this world.
If there is a rush to see beautiful objects, grand and sublime sights, magnificent scenery, and the works of art, on account of the intense pleasure enjoyed through the sense of sight, what shall we say of the exquisite pleasures in store for that sense in heaven! Then again reflect how very captivating, soothing, and enlivening music is. The ear revels in it, and pours into the soul torrents of harmony, which make her, for the time, altogether forget the outer world. So captivating is it, that hours pass by unheeded, and she would almost fancy it is the echoes of angels' voices she hears. What, then, must heavenly harmony be, if our imperfect music is so delightful? Think, also, how exquisitely the odors of flowers, incense, and all manner of perfumery produce a soothing effect upon man, banishing cares, and infusing a new life into him. What must those pleasures be in heaven?
We have already seen that, in heaven, there is to be neither eating nor drinking, as we now understand these two actions. But this does not mean that the sense of taste is not to be gratified. It most certainly will be, though not by corruptible objects, as in this world. The same must be said of the sense of touch or feeling, which is diffused over the whole body.
The five senses of the human body are not mere accidental ornaments, which may or may not exist; they are essential to the integrity of its nature. Thus a blind or a deaf and dumb man is not a perfect man, because he lacks something which is essential to the integrity of his nature. Now, as glory does not destroy the nature of the body, but perfects it, it follows that all the blessed must rise with their five senses in their full perfection. And as their perfection consists in their activity and power of receiving impressions from external objects, and conveying them to the soul, it is evident that the senses must remain active in heaven, and have suitable objects to act upon. This is precisely what we learn from the angelic doctor, who maintains that the glory of the body does not destroy its nature, but perfects it, and even preserves the very color that is natural to it.* He maintains, moreover, that every power or faculty is more perfect when acting upon its proper object, than it is when inactive; and, as human nature will reach its highest degree of perfection in heaven, it follows that every sense will there act according to its nature.+
* Corporis gloria naturam non tollet, sed perficiet: unde color qui debetur corpori ex natura suarum partium, remanebit in eo, sed superaddetur gloria animæ.—S. Thom., Suppl., q. 85, art. 1.
+ Potentia conjuncta actui suo perfectior est quam non conjuncta: sed humana natura erit in beatis in maxima perfectione: ergo erunt ibi omnes sensus in suo actu. Præterea, vicinius se habent ad animam potentiæ sensitivæ, quam corpus: sed corpus præmiabitur vel punietur propter merita vel demerita animæ: ergo et omnes sensus præmiabuntur in beatis, et punientur in malis, secundum delectationem et dolorem vel tristitiam, quae in operatione sensus consistunt.—S. Thom., Suppl., q. 82, art. 4.
According to this doctrine, not one sense of the human body is either dead, inactive, or excluded from enjoyment, in heaven. And why should any one of them be excluded? Why should the sight, or the hearing, or even the sense of smell, be rewarded, rather than the taste, or the sense of touch? Certainly no valid reason can be given.
Theologians teach that in hell every sense of the human body shall have its own peculiar punishment; and that the sense of feeling, especially, shall be tortured; because, in most cases, it is principally in that sense that the reprobate have most offended God. Surely we must not imagine that God is more severe in punishing the wicked, than He is good and liberal in rewarding the just. Now, is it not precisely in the senses of taste and feeling that the saints have suffered most for God? Look at that countless multitude of martyrs. Many were starved to death; others were scourged until they died under the torture; others were torn by the wild beasts; others were crucified; others were burnt with a slow fire; while others were tortured for days together in every limb and sense, and that, too, with all the ingenuity and appliances that the most refined cruelty could devise.
Then again, look at that countless multitude of confessors, virgins, and others, who, in the practice of virtue, became their own executioners. They suffered inconceivably by frequent and long fastings, by coarseness of diet, by wearing hair-cloths, and by otherwise torturing their flesh. And now, shall these senses go unrewarded in the blessed, while they are so terribly punished in the reprobate? Certainly not. All that we can say is that, at present, we do not know how all this is to be realized; but as the whole man in all his senses has served God, and suffered for Him, it is but just that he should be rewarded in his whole being, which includes every sense of the body, as well as every faculty of the soul.
Hence, in our meditations on heaven, we must let the pleasures of the glorified senses enter as an integral element of man's happiness. We must contemplate these pleasures as seriously as we do the pain of sense in the reprobate, only avoiding the introduction of anything gross or carnal, and, therefore, repugnant to a state of incorruption. Hence we must, as already shown, avoid introducing eating, drinking, sleep, or anything else which, by its very nature, belongs to the animal life of man.
We must also banish from our ideas of heaven all the carnal pleasures of this world, as they are now understood. Our blessed Lord himself told the Jews, who believed such pleasures to exist in heaven: "You err, not knowing the Scriptures, nor the power of God. For, in the resurrection, they shall neither marry nor be married; but shall be as the angels of God in heaven."* All such pleasures, which were intended only for this world of imperfection, will be replaced by others of a superior order, and suited to our spiritualized bodies.
* Matt. xxii. 29.
So, then, we see that the life of heaven is one of sensible pleasure through the glorified senses, as well as one of exquisite mental and moral enjoyment in the Beatific Vision. These sensible pleasures have, moreover, a peculiar characteristic, which the pleasures of sense have not in our present state of imperfection. In heaven the blessed can enjoy them all without fear; for none of them are forbidden, and, consequently, they can never be followed by bitter remorse or shame. Neither have they, as in this world, a tendency to darken the mind, and turn the heart away from God. They will rather intensify our love for Him, who is the Author of our exceeding blessedness, whether it comes immediately from himself or partly from the beautiful creatures He has prepared to complete the happiness of His beloved children.
The life of heaven is also one of pure social joys. Among all the joys outside of the Beatific Vision, there are certainly none so sweet as those which arise from our social intercourse with the blessed. We are social beings by nature. Our highest and best powers are framed for society; and we are never in our normal state except when in communion with our fellow-men. Hence all men love society, if we except the misanthrope or man-hater, who is a moral monster. He has unfortunately developed in his bosom some of the worst passions of our fallen nature, and they have built an element of hell in his heart. For in that godless and hopeless region there is no love either for God or neighbor, and, therefore, social joys can have no existence therein. With the exception of a few persons of this kind, all men love society. Even the lonely hermit loves it. But he sees in it dangers to his soul, and he cuts himself off from it in this world, that he may enjoy it in the next, where it shall have lost its dangerous element.
Social intercourse with our fellow-beings affords us some of our purest joys in this world; yet they are not, and never can be perfect. They are roses with cruel thorns, that wound and make us bleed, almost as often as they delight us with their delicious perfumes. How often does it not happen that we go into society with a light heart, and return home sad and heavy? And why so? Because our heart has been wounded, perhaps crushed, by some wicked insinuation, or some unkind interpretation of an action performed with the best Of intentions on our part. Even our holiest actions are criticized, and unworthy motives, which never entered our minds, are attributed to us. Then again, they, whom we had considered our best friends, may betray us, and reveal to a cold and cruel world the secrets which, in our simplicity, we had confided to them. In a word, if intercourse with our fellow-creatures is often the source of pure joys, it is not infrequently the occasion of our keenest sufferings. And why? Because in our present state of imperfection we are sinful and selfish. Because we allow ourselves to act toward others through jealousy, envy, natural aversion, and other ungoverned passions of our fallen nature. We do not love all men, and all men do not love us. We see many defects in others, which make them unamiable; and they see as many in us, which make their love for us almost an impossibility. Wherefore, so long as we live in the flesh, our social joys must always be mingled with a certain amount of bitterness.
Let us now raise our eyes to our heavenly home, and there contemplate a life of the purest, and most perfect social pleasures. There, neither selfishness, nor uncharitableness, nor any unruly passion can exist, and, consequently, our social joys will never be mingled with the gall of bitterness. Putting aside, for a moment, all the shortcomings and imperfections that mar our social joys in this world, let us look at their bright side only, and see what it is that makes our social intercourse with others a pleasure. This will be as a mirror wherein we shall behold some faint reflections of social joys as they exist in heaven. What are the personal attributes or qualities in others that make our social intercourse with them a pleasure? They may be reduced to six, which really include all others that could be mentioned. These are virtue, learning, beauty, refinement, mutual love, and the ties of kindred. We shall say a few words on each of these.
1. Virtue is the attribute which gives us our highest similitude to God, and it is this also which imparts to us some of the purest social pleasures we enjoy on earth. Purity of life, or at hast the absence of gross vices, is a condition without which we can enjoy no one's society, unless we ourselves are depraved. Neither beauty, nor learning, nor any other endowment, can replace virtue, while it alone can, to a great extent, supply all other deficiencies. Hence it is, that when depraved persons are in the society of the good, they feel compelled to be guarded in their words and actions. They must put on an exterior appearance, at hast, of virtue, well knowing that otherwise their presence would be extremely offensive, and calculated to mar the pleasures of others.
When we meet with one who is evidently a man of God, one whose every word is instinct with the spirit of God, whose whole exterior betokens the intimate union of his soul with God, in whose very countenance the beauty of angelical purity shines forth, we deem it a happiness to spend a few moments in his society. The pleasures enjoyed in his company are not only exquisite—they are also sanctifying. If that is so in this world, where all holiness is imperfect, what shall we say of the pleasures of heavenly society? Holiness is an essential attribute of every inhabitant of heaven. They are all pure; for none else can see God. They are all made partakers of the Divine Nature in a far higher degree than is attainable in this world, and consequently they are all clothed with the spotless purity of God himself. Not only are they all pure, but they are, moreover, totally free from those natural defects of character, which, in this world, make many holy persons unamiable, and even repulsive. As nature is not destroyed, but perfected by glory, our natural character will not be destroyed by our union with God. But whatever is faulty in it, or offensive to others, will disappear, leaving it amiable and perfect in its own kind. Hence, our social intercourse with the saints will ever be the source of the purest pleasures.
2. Learning, in those with whom we associate, is another source of pleasure. We can sit for hours listening to the interesting conversation of a learned man, even if he lacks virtue, and only wears its exterior appearance. In such a man's society we drink in, as it were, torrents of pleasures, which are among the most rational we can enjoy in this world. If these pleasures are so exquisite here below, where, after all, the wisest know so little, what shall we say of those same pleasures in heaven? There all are learned, all are filled with knowledge, though all do not possess it in the same degree. Nevertheless, each one's knowledge will be a source of pleasure to others.
3. Personal beauty is also a source of pleasure in this world. Every one knows that perfect personal beauty sweetly but powerfully draws men to itself, and that one endowed therewith gives far greater pleasure than another who does not possess this attribute. It is in heaven, and there only, that every one will possess the attribute of beauty in its fullest perfection. For the soul is clothed with the beauty of God himself, which He communicates to her in the Beatific Vision; while the whole body is beautified and glorified after the likeness of Christ's glorious body. Every saint is therefore clothed with a loveliness far superior to anything we ever can see on earth. If, then, it is so great a pleasure to associate with persons who possess the natural and perishable beauty of this world, what shall we say of the pleasures which must flow from our intercourse with persons who are clothed with the beauty of God himself!
4. Refinement is another attribute which makes our social intercourse with others pleasurable. A great personal beauty that might at first attract others to itself, would soon repel and even disgust them, should they perceive in its possessor unpolished manners, coarseness, and stupidity. A cultivated intellect, refined feelings, and elegant manners are necessary to adorn personal beauty, and make it a source of pleasure to those who are attracted thereby. It is very certain that in heaven, where our whole nature is to be elevated and perfected, this refinement of mind and heart, as well as the elegance of personal bearing which flows from both, will exist in its highest perfection, and ever be the source Of exquisite pleasures in our social intercourse with the blessed.
5. Another source of social joys is mutual love. The four personal attributes we have been considering, make up an amiable character; that is, one which we love spontaneously, and whose love we are certain to have in return for ours. It is this love which crowns and perfects a character of this kind, and produces a very large share of the pure pleasures we enjoy in the society of such persons. But, however pure human love may be, even when elevated by grace to the virtue of charity, it never can produce unalloyed social pleasures; because it never reaches its full perfection in this world.
It is in heaven only that charity is perfect. There we shall love every one with a most tender charity, and see ourselves loved as tenderly and as purely in return. Our charity will be mutual, and, therefore, our intercourse with the blessed will produce joys and pleasures second only to the unspeakable happiness of the Beatific Vision. Meditate well, Christian soul, on these exquisite delights. Think what an unspeakable pleasure that mutual and perfect charity must be to the inhabitants of heaven. That feature alone would almost change for any one of us this cold world into a heaven.
Suppose you could say, with truth, "Every one of my acquaintances loves me with the purest charity; and every stranger who is introduced to me, loves me immediately with the purest affection. I have no enemies; no, not one. No one is ever envious or jealous of me; no one ever says an unkind word of me, nor has any one even an unkind thought of me. All seem to take a singular pleasure in speaking well of me, and in doing me all manner of kind services; and, in return, I sincerely love all, and take a singular delight in doing good to all." Surely, such language never was spoken by any one in this world of imperfection. If, therefore, you could speak it with truth, you would have reached a blessedness which neither our Blessed Lord nor any of his saints ever reached on earth. Every one would look upon you, and with reason, as the most highly-favored person that ever lived in this world.
Now, this is precisely the blessedness which awaits us in our heavenly home. There we shall love every one with the most perfect charity, and every one will return our love. There we shall have no enemies; no one to think uncharitably of us; no one to criticize our sayings and conduct; no one to spread reports injurious to our character; no one to put an unfavorable construction upon our most innocent actions. "God is charity," and as "we shall be like Him because we shall see him as he is," it follows that we, too, shall possess that divine charity, in a far higher degree than is attainable here below. Our social intercourse with the blessed will, therefore, ever be the source of the purest and sweetest joy.
6. Besides the things already enumerated, there is one more which is to be the source of still greater joy. And what may that be? It is the meeting, in heaven, of them whom we loved so well here, because they were bound to us by the sacred ties of kindred, or of true friendship. It is the meeting of parent and child, of husband and wife, of brother and sister, of relatives and friends—with whom we were united by the bonds of the purest love. As glory does not destroy our nature, neither does it destroy our natural virtues, but perfects them. Hence, we shall take along with us our natural love for our relatives and friends. Thus Jesus Christ, our Model, now loves His Blessed Mother with the natural love of a dutiful son. He loves her, not only because she is so pure and holy, but also because she is His own mother. The elevation of His human nature above everything that is not God, has neither destroyed nor diminished in him that natural love which every child has for its mother. Thus, again, Mary now loves Jesus most tenderly, not only because he is her God, but also because he is her own son—flesh of her flesh, and bone of her bone. Her elevation to the highest glory, after that of Jesus, has neither destroyed nor diminished in her the natural love which every mother has for her child. If anything, it has made her love more ardent even than it was in this world.
So we, also, shall enter heaven with the natural love we now have for our kindred and friends; but in us it will be purified from everything inordinate or imperfect. What a delight that meeting must be for the blessed! We can even now form some faint idea of that heavenly joy, by reflecting on what takes place when a beloved father returns home from a long and perilous Voyage, or from some cruel war, where he was daily exposed to captivity and death. What outbursts of gladness among the members of his family! How happy they are to see him and embrace him! If these joys are so great in this world, what must they be in heaven! Especially since there they are coupled with the thought that there is no more separation. No, no more separation! What delightful music there is in that short sentence! Death shall be no more, and therefore we shall never more be torn away from the society of our kindred and friends.
However, it seems to me I hear you say, "There is no difficulty in believing that the meeting of our own in heaven is an unspeakable joy; but suppose we do not meet them there—what then? Suppose that on entering heaven we learn that our father, our mother, or some other loved one is lost forever; shall we still be happy? Will there not be in such a case an essential element wanting to complete our happiness?" We shall devote the next chapter to answering this difficulty, which is a lifelong torture to many a pious mind.
This is a difficult question to answer satisfactorily, on account of our instinctive feelings of natural affection, which arise, and, like a mist, obscure our judgment. Nevertheless, the difficulty is much lessened, and even entirely removed from some minds, at hast, by the following considerations.
1. Our happiness, even in this world, does not depend on the happiness of those who are bound to us by the ties of kindred or of friendship. This is especially the case when their unhappiness proceeds from their own misdeeds. In such a case, we even inflict the punishment ourselves, and feel satisfied to see them suffer according to their deserts. Thus a father banishes from the paternal roof a son or a daughter who has committed a deed that has brought disgrace upon the family. And what is more, the whole family ratify the terrible sentence. The presence and happiness of that brother or sister is no longer necessary for their own happiness. Again, a husband banishes from his presence an unfaithful wife, whom he had formerly loved as his own life. While she was pure, it seemed to him that he could never be happy without her; and now her society has become a positive hinderance to his happiness. Therefore she must go and live alone in her disgrace. It is a just punishment for her infidelity.
If such is the case in this world, why not in heaven? Those of our own who die in sin appear before God in disgrace. He disowns them as unworthy children, or as unfaithful spouses, and as such He banishes them from the kingdom of glory; and we shall undoubtedly ratify the just sentence. Nor will their wretchedness, which is the work of their own hands, disturb our peace or mar our happiness.
2. In heaven, we shall be like God, because we shall see Him as he is. This moral transformation, as we have already seen, is the work of the Beatific Vision. By that glorious vision, and consequent union with God, we shall participate in all the attributes of God which are communicable to a rational nature. One of these attributes is justice—that is, the power of judging as God does, without passion, prejudice, or any of those motives which, in this world, render our judgments rash, unjust, or partial. Not only shall we be clothed with the power of judging justly, but with it we shall have a desire that every one be rewarded or punished according to his works; and we shall rest perfectly satisfied to see the just sentence carried into effect.
Even now we possess that attribute, as well as others which make us the living images of the Most High. But it is far from being perfect, because our feelings, private interests, and passions warp our judgments, and even reverse them after we have pronounced a just sentence. Suppose, for instance, you hear of a man who has committed a premeditated murder. You are horrified at the atrocious deed, and without a moment's hesitation you pronounce in your heart that man's sentence. Your judgment is that he must die on the scaffold, or, at least, that he be deprived of liberty and condemned to hard labor for the remainder of his days. But you have scarcely pronounced this just sentence when you discover that the murderer is your own father! What a change this one circumstance will bring about in your judgment! If you are of an affectionate nature, you will do all in your power to find circumstances that may lessen or palliate his guilt; and perhaps you may even succeed in making him appear, in your eyes, wholly innocent; and thus your first judgment is entirely reversed. What is it that has thus changed your first judgment? Is it your deep sense of justice? Not at all. Your instinctive feelings of love have blinded you, and made it impossible for you to judge his case fairly, and on its own merits.
But, again, if you are not of an affectionate nature, you may be so transported with rage at your father's crime, that you can find no punishment severe enough for him. And why so? Because you see yourself and your family forever disgraced. You feel your cheek burning with shame, and, in your desire for revenge, you heap maledictions upon your unfortunate father's head. Here, again, your judgment is wrong, because it is dictated by an unmanly desire of revenge. So, in either case, you are unable to judge fairly, and to pronounce a just sentence, simply because the criminal is your own father.
Now, it is very certain that none of these prejudices or passions, which now so much interfere with our judgments, will follow us into heaven. There, clothed with the justice and sanctity of God himself, we shall judge as He does, without passion or prejudice. And the fact that the criminal is our own father, or mother, or other loved one, will neither influence nor reverse our judgments. I do not mean to say that we shall actually sit in judgment and pronounce the sentence of condemnation against our own kindred; but I do mean that, seeing the justice and fairness of God's judgments, we shall readily acquiesce therein, and ratify them, and rest satisfied to see all suffer according to their deserts.
3. A third consideration is taken from the nature of love. When love for any one has taken full possession of our soul, it so completely changes our whole moral nature into the person beloved, that we forget our own private interests, and embrace his cause, his interests, as if they were our own. Henceforth, our will is so absorbed by his, that we seem no longer to possess any will of our own.
Holy Scripture gives us a striking instance of this transforming power of love, in the friendship of Jonathan for David. According to the forcible expression of Holy Writ: "The soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul."* David had slain the famous Goliath, and when the Jewish army was returning home in triumph, the women sang: "Saul slew his thousand, and David his ten thousand." King Saul was filled with anger and envy on hearing David praised more than himself; and, from that day, he hated him, and did all in his power to destroy him. His son Jonathan, who loved David as his own soul, left nothing undone to save his friend. He watched everything his father said or did, discovered all his plans against David, and then would go into the forest, at his own peril, and warn his friend of approaching danger. He did more: he forgot, or gave up all his own private interests, and embraced those of David. For, being the son of a king, he had the presumptive right to succeed his father upon the throne; but, instead of himself, he wanted David to reign in his father's place. He did even more: he embraced a line of conduct entirely opposed to the temporal interests of his own father, and he thus materially aided in placing David upon the throne of Israel.
* 1 Kings xviii.
This is a striking instance of the wonderful transforming power of love. Now, if human love has such a power in this world, what shall we say of the power of divine love in heaven! There we shall see God as He is, and that vision will kindle in us a love far greater than ever we had, or could have, for any one in this world. We shall, therefore, spontaneously espouse God's cause, and embrace his interests. We shall love all that He loves, and we shall find it impossible to love them whom he does not and cannot love. Hence, we shall never love Lucifer, nor any of those fallen spirits who sided with him in his rebellion against God, and became demons on that account. Nor shall we ever love any of those who lived a bad life, stubbornly persisted in their sins, and died at enmity with God. They have, by their own act, excommunicated themselves, as it were, from the heart of God. They have, consequently, made it impossible for Him ever to love them. They have also made it impossible for us to love them, even were they father, mother, or any one else that was dear to us in this world. If we can no longer love them, we shall certainly not lose a single degree of our happiness on finding that they are not in heaven.
4. The fourth and last consideration I place before you is, that if the salvation of all their own were necessary for the happiness of the blessed, it might follow that very few, if any, could be happy in heaven. For it may be that there are only very few, if any, among the blessed, who see every member of their family, all their relatives and friends, around them in the abode of bliss. It would follow, too, that even the angels are unhappy; for, before the rebellion of Lucifer and his accomplices, they certainly loved each other, and probably with more perfection and intensity than we ever loved any one in this world. And now they see a vast multitude of their former friends and associates in endless misery. Are they unhappy on that account? Certainly not. It is evident, then, that if we once admit that the salvation of our own is necessary for our individual happiness, we find ourselves compelled to admit also that heaven is a place of sadness and mourning, since there are many there who are not surrounded by those whom they loved in this world. The absurdity which necessarily follows from such an admission is, by itself, a sufficient answer to the difficulty.
Once more: Remember that, in heaven, we shall be like God, because we shall see Him as he is. We shall, therefore, be like God in beatitude. Now, is God made unhappy because some of His creatures have refused him obedience and love, and have, in consequence, lost themselves forever? Certainly not. And did He ever love those same creatures as much as we love father, or mother, brother, sister, or friend? Certainly He did. His love for them was so great, that ours, however pure and ardent, sinks into insignificance when compared to His. Did we ever offer ourselves to suffer every imaginable indignity and torture for our kindred? Did we ever offer even to die a most shameful and cruel death for them? We never did; and if we had even attempted it, we should have found our puny and imperfect love unable to carry us through the terrible sacrifice.
God alone is capable of so great a love. He assumed our nature, and in it He suffered more than human mind can conceive. Look at Him in the garden, oppressed and overpowered with an agony of sorrow. Follow Him through the different stages of his bitter passion. Contemplate that cruel scourging, the crowning with thorns, the filthy spittle which covers His sacred face, and the other insults and indignities heaped upon him. Follow Him to Mount Calvary; see Him there nailed upon an infamous gibbet, suffering every torture of mind and body to his very last breath. And why did He undergo all this? Because He loved us. And now, are all they, whom He loved so well, and for whom he suffered so much, around the throne of his glory in heaven? They certainly are not. Are even all they, who were his special friends in this world, around him in heaven? Surely we have every reason to fear that one of them at least, Judas the traitor, is not there. And is Jesus unhappy because they are not all there? Certainly not. If, then, His happiness is not marred by the loss of those whom he loved so much, neither shall ours be, if we find that some of our own are lost. We shall be like him in beatitude, because we shall see him as he is.
In the mean time, do all in your power to instil principles of virtue into your children, if you are a parent; into your pupils, if you are a teacher, or clothed in any other way with authority over your fellow-creatures. See that none of them be lost through your own fault. For if there is one thing above all others difficult to understand, it is how fathers and mothers can be happy in heaven, when they see their own children lost through their own negligence, or bad example? Again, how can teachers, guardians, and pastors of souls be happy in heaven, when they see those committed to their care ruined forever, through their negligence? Again, how can those men be happy who have seduced others from the path of virtue, by immoral discourses, bad books, and evil actions? These certainly are hard things to understand; and still we must believe that all they who enter heaven are happy. We must believe, moreover, that careless, and even bad parents, negligent teachers, seducers of the innocent, and writers of bad books, will eventually be admitted into heaven, if they die truly repentant. We must believe, moreover, that all such persons will be happy in heaven, no matter how many they have ruined, for the simple reason that no unhappiness can ever find its way into the abode of bliss.
Having, in the foregoing chapters, endeavored to form an idea of heaven's happiness, we must now endeavor to understand something of the different degrees in which each one of the blessed enjoys that unspeakable beatitude.
It is an article of faith that every one in heaven, except baptized infants, is rewarded according to his own personal merits, acquired in this life by the assistance of God's grace. Baptized children, who die before they reach the age of discretion, are admitted into heaven, in virtue of their adoption as children of God on the day of their baptism. But all others who have lived long enough to be responsible or their deeds, besides being admitted there in virtue of their adoption as children of God, are, moreover, rewarded according to their own personal merits.
But, it seems to me, I hear you ask, Does not the happiness of heaven consist in the Beatific Vision? Undoubtedly it does. And is the little boy, who dies before he can make an act of faith, or of charity, admitted to that glorious vision as well as the Apostle and the martyr? Certainly he is. And the little girl, who dies before reaching the age of discretion, is she too admitted to the vision of God, as well as the Sister of Charity, the nun, and others who spend their lives in teaching the ignorant and ministering to the poor? Undoubtedly she is. And the murderer, who dies on the scaffold, after making an act of perfect contrition, is he, too, eventually admitted to the vision and possession of God? Yes, he, too, will see God face to face, and be made happy by that glorious vision. Well, then, if all see and possess God, how can there be a difference in the happiness of the saints? Are they not all equally happy? This is the question we are now to answer, by examining the meaning and the nature of the Light of glory. This examination will make it evident, that, though all see God, yet no two of the blessed enjoy precisely the same degree or amount of happiness.
Theologians define the Light of glory to be, "A supernatural intellectual power infused into the soul, by which she is enabled to see God, which she never could do by her own unassisted natural powers."* It is called supernatural, because it is not a natural talent or power of our nature, as the talent for poetry, music, painting, and others, all of which may be developed and highly improved by study. But the Light of glory is an elevation, expansion, or development of the mind, which comes directly from God, and is, in no sense, the result of human endeavors, except in so far as it has been deserved by a holy life. We shall understand better the meaning of the Light of glory by an illustration.
* Per lumen gloriæ intelligitur qualitas creata, et habitus virtusque intellectualis supernaturalis, ac per se infusa intellectui, qua redditur proxime potens et habilis ad videndum Deum…. Ita D. Thomas, sicque ratione probatur: Ut virtutes infusæ requiruntur, ut eorum actus fiant connaturali modo, nempe a principio intrinseco et proportionato, ita etiam lumen ut fiat visio. Cum enim activitas ex parte intellectus sit in suo ordine deficiens et imperfecta, ideo oportet ut lumen illi virtutem conferat altioris ordinis, supernaturalem et actui proportionatam per quam elevatur ad efficiendam visionem cum illo. Suarez, de Deo, cap. xiv.
Let us suppose that you never could learn mathematics or astronomy. In spite of the most intense application, you never could master even the multiplication table; and when you gazed upon the heavens, you could never see there any more beauty and magnificence than does the untutored savage. But, on a sudden, there is a flash of light from above, and your mind is enlightened far beyond its natural capacity, and you can see all the heavenly bodies as they are. You now know their names, motions, distances, laws, and relations to each other, and to the whole universe. Formerly, they appeared all alike, except the sun and the moon; but now, you see that no two of them are alike. Each one has its own size, velocity, beauty, and glory. You even soar far beyond the discoveries of science, and you gaze with delight upon millions of shining worlds, which the most powerful telescope never did, and never can, reach. You can, moreover, in the twinkling of an eye, calculate with astonishing precision the day, the hour, the minute, yea, the very second, at which an eclipse will occur. Gazing upon the heavens, which hitherto had given you so little satisfaction, now becomes the source of the most exquisite and rational pleasure. For you now see in these countless worlds so much beauty and magnificence, so delightful a harmony, that you can spend whole nights in the contemplation of the heavens.
This sudden elevation and expansion of your mind to see such wonders in the natural order, illustrates what takes place in heaven the moment a pure soul enters there. In the supposition just made, you receive an accession or addition of intellectual power, which enables you to see clearly and to understand what was invisible and unintelligible to you before the flash enlightened you. The Light of glory produces a similar effect upon the soul at her entrance into heaven. Our mind, which is now unable to see God except "as through a glass, in a dark manner," is suddenly elevated in power, and enabled to see God as he is, face to face, and to contemplate his divine beauty and his other perfections. Our individual mind is neither destroyed nor changed into another: it is only strengthened and elevated in power and capacity far beyond anything we could ever have reached by our own unassisted endeavors.
But we shall still better understand the meaning of the Light of glory by contrasting it with the light of faith. What is faith? Faith is also a supernatural elevation of the mind, by which we are enabled to believe, as firmly as if we saw them, mysteries which are far above our comprehension. It is called supernatural, because it comes from God alone; for no man ever can bestow faith upon himself. Here, then, the light of faith and the Light of glory resemble each other, inasmuch as they both come immediately from God, and elevate man above himself. But they vastly differ in intensity; for by faith we see God imperfectly and unsatisfactorily, whereas by the Light of glory we see God as he is in himself. Faith, therefore, is as the first faint blush of the morning, while the Light of glory is as the sun shining in his meridian splendor.
So, then, the Light of glory is a supernatural addition to our mind, which enables it to cross the gulf between the Creator and the creature. I say gulf, because no created intelligence can see God as he is, by its own natural power. Hence, neither St. Augustine, nor St. Thomas, nor any other giant intellect could see God as He is in himself, any better than the man who never could learn his letters. It is in this sense that we must understand St. Paul when, speaking of God, he says: "Who alone hath immortality, and inhabiteth light inaccessible; whom no man hath seen, nor can see."* Evidently he means that no one can see God by the light of nature; for in another place he tells us that when that which is perfect is come, we shall see Him face to face.
1 Tim. vi. 16.
From all this it follows that all men are on a footing of perfect equality, so far as the power of seeing God is concerned. No one has that power in himself by nature, and no one can give it to himself or develop it by study, as we can other powers we have received in the natural order. It is as if we said that no man possesses the natural power to see thorough a stone wall, or thorough the earth. Certainly all men are equal here; for the man whose eagle eye can recognize a friend at the distance of ten miles, is no nearer seeing thorough the earth than another, whose sight is so bad that he can scarcely recognize his own father at a distance of a few steps. So it is with seeing God. No man has the power in himself by nature, and, therefore, no one can develop it by study. Even the angels, who are so vastly superior to us in intelligence, could not see God as he is until they were elevated by the light of glory; and those among them who became reprobates by their sin, never did and never shall see God, although they still retain, even in their fallen state, more intelligence than man.
I have been particular in explaining and insisting upon these things, lest it might be imagined that men of highly cultivated minds, such as philosophers, theologians, poets, and the like, shall see God better, and enjoy more of heaven's happiness than the ignorant, in virtue of their superior natural gifts. They certainly shall not. God does not bestow a supernatural reward upon the natural gifts, or even upon the natural virtues, which are to be found among pagans as well as among Christians. But He does reward the faith, hope, charity, and other supernatural virtues, which his children have practised in this world. Hence, theology teaches that not even the angels, who are so superior to us, see God any better in virtue of their nobler and more perfect intellect. Thus, supposing an angel and a man to be equal in merit, they both receive the same amount of the Light of glory; they both see God in the same degree of perfection; and both, therefore, enjoy the same degree of happiness. If we admit that the angel has a more perfect vision of God, on account of his more perfect natural intellect, then we must also admit that he enjoys a portion of supernatural beatitude, exclusively, in virtue of his natural powers, and not on account of his merits acquired by correspondence to divine grace.* Evidently no such admission can be made; for heaven is a supernatural reward of supernatural virtues, which have been practised, in this world, under the influence of divine grace, and not a reward of natural endowments. If, then, no such doctrine can be admitted when the question is between angels and men, much less can it be admitted when there is question of superior natural intellect among men. Hence, the man who never learned his letters, either for want of natural talent or opportunity, shall undoubtedly see God, as well as the philosopher, if he has led as good a life; and he shall see Him better, and enjoy more of heaven's happiness, if he has lived a holier life.
* . . . Ipsa enim visio est præmium nostrum: ergo ubi paria sunt merita, debet esse par visio: sed in homino et angelo possunt esse paria merita: ergo debet esse par visio. Ergo quantitas visionis debet sumi a lumine gloriæ quod datur secundum mensuram meritorum, non autem a perfectione intellectus, quæ non datur ex meritis. Et confirmatur, quia ponamus angelum et hominem habere æqualia merita. Vel ergo accipient æquale lumen gloriæ vel inæquale. Si inæquale, non respondebit meritis. Si æquale, ergo cum æquali lumine æqualiter Deum videbunt: alioqui si angelus perfectius videret, tunc aliquam partem beatitudinis haberet sine meritis, ex solis naturæ viribus. Becan. de Attrib. Divin., quæst. x.
Once more: The light of glory is a supernatural elevation of the mind, which enables man to see God as He is in himself. It is given by God himself to those who have lived a supernatural life of faith, hope, and charity. Moreover, it is given to each in proportion to his personal merits. It therefore becomes the measure of the degree of happiness which each one of the blessed enjoys in the vision of God.
Having seen that the Light of glory is the new power, or medium, through which the blessed see and enjoy God, we must now endeavor to understand how its different degrees of intensity become the source of vastly different degrees of happiness or enjoyment.
In order to understand how the different degrees of mental elevation produce different degrees of happiness in the Beatific Vision, we must first examine in what consist the different degrees of enjoyment in the creatures that now surround us. This will be as a mirror, in which we can see faint, but true, reflections of the vast difference there is between the highest and the lowest in heaven.
In order to receive pleasure from creatures, it is not enough to be surrounded with them, or even to possess them: we must, moreover, be endowed with organs, or faculties, through which we can receive and appropriate to ourselves the pleasures which, according to their nature, they can give. Thus, a grand concert, which pours the most exquisite pleasures into your soul, gives none at all to a deaf man, because he lacks the receiving organ, and hence the pleasure-giving object is, in his regard, as if it had no existence.
But this is not all. Not only does our pleasure depend upon the possession of receiving faculties, but the amount also, or degree, of that pleasure, depends upon the development and perfection of the same receiving organs and faculties. The more highly developed and cultivated they are, the more intense, also, will be the satisfaction and pleasure we shall receive from any given object; while persons of inferior development will receive far less, although the object is the same for all. Let us make this evident by an illustration.
Take the thousands of persons who have read some literary work, say, for instance, the Iliad of Homer. They all had eyes, and all could read; they all possessed the whole book as completely as if it had been written for each one in particular; and, no doubt, they all received pleasure from the perusal of that beautiful poem. But, did they all receive the same amount of pleasure? They certainly did not. Not even two individuals ever received the same degree of pleasure or enjoyment from the perusal of that book. Each one received and appropriated to himself his own pleasure—which was great in proportion to the cultivation and elevation of his mind. Hence, while a superior and highly cultivated mind is entranced at the beauty and sublimity of some particular passage, an inferior one sees neither meaning nor beauty in it, and, perhaps, even casts the book aside in disgust.
It would be easy to multiply illustrations; but this one is sufficient to show that the amount of pleasure we derive from the use of creatures depends upon the degree of development and perfection in our receiving faculties. So it is in heaven, among the blessed. They all see and possess God; they all love and enjoy Him; but it by no means follows that they all enjoy the same amount of happiness from that blessed vision. And why so? Because each one sees and enjoys only in proportion to his individual development and elevation of mind—which is given to him by the Light of glory. And, as that blessed Light is given to each one according to his own personal merits, it follows that each one sees and enjoys God in proportion to the holiness of the life he lived while upon earth.
Hence, they who have practised virtue in a heroic degree—they who have sacrificed the pleasures of this world, honors, wealth, and even life itself, for God, possess the highest elevation of mind, and, consequently, the highest degree of enjoyment. They possess the most intense and perfect vision of the Divine Essence; they soar higher, and penetrate more deeply into the unfathomable being of God. They see more of the divine beauty, wisdom, goodness, and other perfections of God, and partake more largely of the Divine Nature. In a word, their higher elevation of mind, by a more intense Light of glory, is to them the source of the highest and most perfect enjoyment in the Beatific Vision; while persons of very inferior virtue, though perfectly happy too, enjoy a vastly inferior degree of blessedness.
But this is not all. We have seen, in a former chapter, that the Beatific Vision does not consist in merely gazing upon the surpassing beauty of God; and that the mere sight of Him, if it could be separated from the possession of him, could not make any one happy. Wherefore, the sight of God includes the possession of Him. It includes, moreover, the intense love to which that vision gives birth, as well as the consequent enjoyment of Him. Now, it is evident that a more intense light of glory, or a greater elevation of the mind, inflames the soul with a more intense love or God. For, it not only reveals to her more of His surpassing beauty, but it also reveals more of His unspeakable love for her; and her love for Him becomes greater in proportion. And the greater the love between the soul and God, the more perfect and complete also is the union existing between them, and, consequently, the higher is the happiness enjoyed by the soul.
Thus it is that all the blessed see, love, and enjoy God in the Beatific Vision. They are all perfectly happy; and yet, among the countless multitude of God's children, probably not two really enjoy the same degree of happiness. Each one enjoys according to the elevation of his mind, which he has deserved by the holiness of his life. Not only is there a difference in the degrees of enjoyment, but there is a gulf between the highest and the lowest in heaven. It is, moreover, an impassable gulf, which the lowest can never cross so as to reach the highest happiness of heaven. It were far easier for the lowest and most uncouth servant-maid in a king's palace to reach the dignity and glory of a queen, than it is for the lowest in heaven to reach the most intimate degree of union with God. Each one is happy in the degree and sphere which his life has deserved for him; but in that degree each one will and must remain forever.
I trust that you now understand something of the different degrees of happiness in heaven; and that, at the same time, you are filled with a holy ambition to reach a high degree of union with God. If so, thank God. For a high degree of glory in heaven is within the reach of us all, however poor, ignorant, or insignificant we may be here below. Heaven is not as this world, where the mere accident of birth, or the smile of fortune, instead of moral worth, generally determines a man's position in society, as well as the amount of natural happiness he shall enjoy. Hence, no poor girl ever imagines that, if she be very virtuous, some great king will eventually espouse her, and elevate her to the dignity and glory of a queen. No poor boy ever believes that, if he behaves well, and obeys the laws of the land as a good citizen, the king will, in consequence, eventually adopt him as one of his sons, and bestow upon him the honors and pleasures which may be enjoyed by royal children. But even supposing such wild dreams could be realized in this world, these ignorant and uncouth people could not be made happy in their elevated position. And why? Because the king, who has the power to give palaces, wealth, magnificent dresses, and tables loaded with every imaginable luxury, has not the power to bestow the elevation of mind, polish of manners, and other graces which befit queens and royal children. Hence, they would feel out of place, and be unable to enjoy the happiness to which they have been elevated. Besides, they would see themselves despised, and even ridiculed, by those whose birth and education have fitted them for high society. The mere fact, therefore, of their elevation to high honors, would not clothe them with the personal qualities which are necessary to enjoy the highest honors and pleasures of this world.
How different all this is, when there is question of heaven! For, how poor and ignorant soever we may now be, we may reasonably aspire to a very high degree of glory, and to the exquisite delights which come from a more intimate union with God. How insignificant soever we may be, and however low our position in this world, we may aspire to move in the highest society in heaven. And not only may we aspire to all this, and reach it, by the grace of God and the practice of virtue, but, what is more, we shall be made fit for our high position. For the moment the vision of God flashes upon the soul, we become like Him. We shall, therefore, be educated, filled with all knowledge, wisdom, and every other perfection. We shall be clothed with the personal beauty, refinement, and other graces which befit spouses of Jesus Christ and children of God. For you must ever bear in mind that the glory of heaven, besides the elevation of our mind by the Light of glory, implies the elevation of our whole nature to the supernatural state.
Wherefore, not only is our mind elevated far beyond its present powers by the Light of glory, but our body, also, is to be exalted by the resurrection far beyond its present perfection. As we have already seen, all the just are to rise in glory, but each one in his own degree of perfection. "For, one is the glory of the sun, another the glory of the moon, and another the glory of the stars. For star differeth from star in glory. So, also, in the resurrection of the dead." Here the Apostle of the Gentiles teaches us, in the plainest manner possible, that among the saints there is a very great difference in the degrees of personal beauty, grace, and splendor. There is as much difference between the beauty and splendor of the highest and those of the lowest, as we now see between the dazzling splendor of the surf and the pale light of the moon. As the resurrection is a portion of heaven's rewards, it follows that the more completely we have mortified our inordinate passions, and made our life conformable to that of Jesus Christ, the more also of personal beauty and splendor shall we possess in heaven; and, consequently, the more of heaven's happiness we shall enjoy.
These attributes of personal beauty and perfection, and elevation to a high position, in heaven, are the very marks by which we shall immediately recognize those who have been most holy, and who have done most for God, in this world. It will no longer be as now, when the wicked prosper, possess wealth, honors, and power, while the virtuous are not infrequently poor, despised, and even persecuted unto death. Hence, the appearance of a man and his surroundings are not a rule whereby we can rightly judge of his sanctity. Thus, when you see a man of great personal beauty, highly educated, and polished in his manners, surrounded with all the magnificence which the world can give, honored and idolized by his fellows, enjoying a high social position, and all the pleasures of life, you do not, you cannot judge, from all this worldly glory, that he is one of the holiest men living. He may, indeed, be a good man, but the glory which surrounds him is not the standard by which you can judge of the amount of virtue which he possesses.
In heaven, the glory which surrounds the saints is a rule, and an infallible one, by which we can tell the amount of virtue they practised while living in mortal flesh. Thus, when you enter there, you will see some who outshine others in splendor as the sun outshines the moon. You will see them wonderfully transformed into God, shining like the Divinity in His presence; partaking of the Divine Nature in a high degree, and united to Him in the most intimate manner. You will see them elevated far above others in rank, honored and loved in a special manner by the angels and saints. On seeing them, your first thought will be that these are the holiest persons in heaven. You will judge that their dazzling splendor, their wonderful resemblance to God, their intimate union with Him, the high position they occupy, and the exquisite pleasures they enjoy, are all so many proofs that, while on earth, they loved God with their whole heart, and their neighbor as themselves; that they were poor in spirit, humble, pure, patient in adversity, and that perhaps some of them laid down their lives for God, amidst the most excruciating torments. Here is a correct judgment. For it is precisely their heroic virtue, and not the mere accident of birth or the smile of fortune, which gives them the superior beauty, glory, and happiness they now enjoy.
Then, again, you will see others, who, although perfectly happy, are nevertheless far inferior in their degree of union with God and personal splendor. You will immediately infer that these practised virtue in an inferior degree. Your judgment is right again; for, in heaven, the glory which surrounds every saint is a rule by which we can judge of his moral worth, and of the amount of virtue which he practised while living in this world; because there it is all a just reward, and not the result of one's birth, or of any caprice of fortune.
The possession and enjoyment of God in the Beatific Vision is not the whole happiness of man in heaven; nor is it the only one in which there are different degrees of enjoyment. Our senses, also, as well as our minds, are to be elevated far beyond their present capacities for enjoyment. They, too, are to receive a supernatural development, an exquisite delicacy of perception, and power of conveying pleasures to the soul, in proportion to the merits we have acquired by the holiness of our lives. They, consequently, who, have led the holiest lives, are not only the most intimately united to God, not only the most completely transformed into Him by partaking more abundantly of the Divine Nature; but their senses, also, are glorified and elevated in power of enjoyment far above theirs who have practised virtue in an inferior degree. Hence the highest in heaven will receive immensely more pleasure thorough their senses, than others whose lives have not been so holy. Any contrary doctrine would savor of heresy.
If you were told, for instance, that a musician, who never served God, but who, nevertheless, received the grace of a death-bed repentance, shall, on account of his cultivated musical ear, enjoy more pleasure from heavenly music than the Blessed Virgin, the apostles, martyrs, and holy virgins, your whole soul would undoubtedly revolt at such a doctrine. You would maintain that if heaven is the reward of supernatural virtue, its whole happiness, its every joy, and its every delight, whether from God himself or from creatures, should be enjoyed in a higher degree by those who have loved and served Him in a more perfect manner, and sacrificed themselves more completely for Him.
You would certainly be right in maintaining all this, for it is certainly so. The highest in heaven will not only possess a greater elevation of mind—which is necessary to enjoy greater pleasure even from creatures—but their senses also will be more refined and acute, and will, therefore, enable them to enjoy more refined pleasures from the objects of sense. It will be as already explained for the Beatific Vision. All shall see, hear, and otherwise enjoy the creatures prepared by the Almighty to rejoice the senses of His children; but all shall not, on that account, enjoy the same amount of pleasure. Each one shall receive his own pleasure, according to the supernatural perfection of his senses which he has deserved by the holiness of his life.
Let us endeavor to understand this, by supposing a grand concert given in a church, where all classes of society are represented. All hear the music, both vocal and instrumental, and all, no doubt, receive pleasure. But do they all receive the same amount of pleasure? They certainly do not. We may, for the sake of illustration, divide that vast assembly into three general classes. The first consists of those who have little or no musical ear, and, therefore, the concert affords them only an inferior pleasure. The next class is composed of those who have a good natural ear for music, but who never have developed and cultivated it by study. These evidently receive a far greater pleasure than the former. But the third class is composed of those who not only possess a natural talent for music, but who have, moreover, developed it by patient and assiduous study. These last receive unbounded pleasure. They follow with ease each instrument and voice into the most intricate harmony; they receive the most exquisite pleasure precisely in those parts where the uneducated perceive little or no beauty, because the music is too scientific for them.
Here you have the same object of pleasure for all. Every one present hears the whole concert as if he were there alone; and yet, what a difference in the pleasure enjoyed by each one! We have divided these persons into three classes, but, in reality, each one forms a class by himself; for there are not two of those present, whether among the educated or the ignorant, who receive precisely the same amount of pleasure. Each one appropriates and enjoys his own individual pleasure, according to the peculiar development of his faculties.
So it is in heaven. All the blessed hear the magnificent harmony, but all do not, on that account, enjoy the same degree of pleasure. Each one enjoys in proportion to his individual development, which is given him as a portion of his reward. And, as the reward is given in proportion to the holiness of their lives, it follows that the holiest enjoy more pleasure than others from heavenly music. Evidently, this holds true of the other senses, which also are elevated and refined according to each one's holiness of life. Hence, however talented and learned a man may now be in music, astronomy, philosophy, poetry, or any other natural science, and how keen and perfect soever may be his senses, he will not enjoy more pleasure, in virtue of these more perfect natural gifts, unless they have been consecrated to the service of God.
This is a truth which you must never forget. For it is to be feared that there is a half-formed notion in the minds of respectable and highly educated persons, that their superior talents and education will enable them to enjoy more of heaven's happiness than those who either have no great talents or are too poor to have them developed by study. There can be no greater illusion. If it were so, the poor, who, have already suffered so much from their humble position, would seemingly have reason to complain on seeing the educated classes again above them in heaven; and that, too, merely on account of their higher education, and other natural advantages. Remember that God can and will elevate each one in the power of enjoyment, according to the holiness of his life, and not according to the natural advantages he enjoys in this world.
But although it is perfectly true that natural talents, as such, are not rewarded, and, therefore, do not elevate their possessors to a higher glory or power of enjoyment, the case is quite different if these talents have been developed under the influence of grace, and consecrated to God by supernatural motives. In such a supposition, they will most certainly be rewarded with a higher degree of glory, and an increased power of enjoyment. Hence, philosophers, theologians, and other learned men, who study for the glory of God; poets, who sing the praises of God and of his saints; musicians, who devote their talents to the composition of sacred music; the men and the women who consecrate their talents and lives to the education of youth—all these shall undoubtedly have their talents rewarded with an increased power of enjoyment, because they have supernaturalized them by a pure intention, and exercised them for the glory of God and the salvation of souls. The rich man will certainly not be higher in heaven on account of his wealth; but he may increase his glory by making a proper use thereof. He may relieve the necessities of the fatherless and the widow; he may build up houses for the education of the poor; he may increase the beauty and the majesty of God's temples, and thus change his wealth into a means of reaching a very high degree of glory in heaven. So with you, if you be wealthy, talented, and highly educated, although you will not be higher in heaven on account of these natural advantages, you may vastly increase your glory by charity to the poor, by teaching the ignorant, by writing or translating good books, by purchasing and circulating such pious books among the poor, and by otherwise using your social position for the advancement of religion, and glorifying God with the natural advantages He has so liberally bestowed upon you.
But you may, perhaps, ask: Will not these different degrees of glory cause envy and, therefore, unhappiness in the lowest among the blessed? Will not kings and queens, and other great ones of this world, be unhappy if they see the poor above them? when they see those, to whom they imagined they could not even speak without lowering their dignity, shining far above them in splendor? I answer, that if kings, queens, and other great ones of this world have the unspeakable good fortune of being admitted into heaven, they certainly will not be envious of the greater glory they shall behold in those upon whom they formerly looked down.
There is no envy in heaven. If we once admit the possibility of such a thing as envy, then farewell to the happiness of heaven. For in such a supposition no one could be happy. The lowest would envy the happiness of those who are a little higher, and these would envy the happiness of the highest, and these, again, would envy the happiness of the Blessed Virgin; and she, too, would be unhappy, because she does not possess the glory of the Hypostatic Union, which is the privilege of Jesus Christ alone. The absurdity of all this is a sufficient answer to the question. Each one in heaven is satisfied with his own lot, because it suits himself and no one else. As St. Augustine says: When a tall man and a little boy are both dressed in a suit of the same precious cloth, each is suited and fitted to his satisfaction. The little boy is neither envious nor unhappy because the tall man has more cloth than he; and he certainly would not exchange with him. So also in heaven. Every one is there satisfied with his own degree of glory, because it suits himself, and gratifies all the rational cravings of his nature. Not only are the lowest without envy, and perfectly satisfied with their degree of glory, but they even rejoice at the higher glory of others. For they see that those who enjoy the highest glory of heaven have deserved it by the heroic virtues they practised while on earth.
Christian soul, I suppose that now you understand something of the degrees of enjoyment in heaven, and that you are filled with noble ambition to reach a high degree of union with God. You no doubt desire to see your whole nature so elevated as to have the most perfect enjoyment of God himself, and of the creatures in store to rejoice the glorified senses of the just. Set to work in good earnest to live a holy life; for it is by so doing that we deserve the highest powers of enjoyment. A few days of labor and struggle, a few days of self-denial, a few days of suffering, and then, the undisturbed possession and enjoyment Of God himself, and of His beautiful and pure creatures, forever! This is what is in store for them that practise virtue and persevere unto the end.