The High Priest of the New Law, St. Paul tells the Hebrews, is Christ. And the Christian priesthood, which He instituted, is a participation and extension of His office and ministry. The commemoration of the same sacrifice which was once offered upon the cross for the sins of the world is daily renewed on our altars from the rising to the setting of the sun. The Christian priest, in the language of spiritual writers, is "another Christ," taking His place amongst men, perpetually renewing, as it were, the Incarnation in the Sacrifice of the Mass, preaching the word, and applying the fruits of Redemption through the channels of the sacraments.
In common estimation, the dignity of a man is reckoned by the character of the office he fills or the duties entrusted to him. Judged by this standard, no worldly dignity can compare with that of the priesthood, whose authority comes from God, and whose powers, transcending earth, reach back to heaven. "Speak not of the royal purple," says St. Chrysostom, "of diadems, of golden vestures—these are but shadows, frailer than the flowers of spring, compared to the power and privileges of the priesthood."
And whence arises, we may ask, this incomparable dignity of the priest? First of all, from his power to roll back the heavens, and bring down upon the altar the Majesty of the Deity, attended by an angelic train. "The Blessed Virgin," St. Vincent Ferrer informs us, "opened heaven only once, the priest does so at every Mass." Exalted is the sovereignty of kings who rule a nation, but more sublime the power which commands the King of kings, and is obeyed. Who could conceive, did not Faith teach it, that mortal man were capable of elevation to such a pitch of glory? No wonder St. Chrysostom was betrayed by this thought into the rhapsody: "When you behold the Lord immolated and lying on the altar, and the priest standing over the sacrifice and praying and all the people empurpled by that precious blood, do you imagine that you are still on earth amongst men and not rather rapt up to heaven?"
The second great prerogative of the priest is to forgive sins. Christ having one day said to a paralytic, "Man, thy sins are forgiven thee" (Luke v: 20), some of the bystanders marvelled, thinking within themselves, "Who can forgive sins, but God alone?" Yea, truly is this a Divine power, but these critics failed to comprehend the Divinity of Christ, and that all power was given to Him in heaven and on earth. And His power to remit sins has descended to the priest, in the imposition of hands. At Christ's will lepers were cleansed, and once more felt the pulsation of health tingling through their veins; but more wondrous still the word of the priest which causes the scales of the leprosy of sin to fall from the stricken soul, and restores to it the pristine vigor and beauty of sanctifying grace. As keeper of the keys, the priest stands warder of heaven, locking or unlocking its doors to the dust-begrimed pilgrims of earth.
Sublime, then, is the priestly dignity, even beyond human comprehension. But one thing we realize, and the saints with clearer vision perceive, that high virtue is demanded of him whose life is spent in the antechamber of heaven. St. Catharine of Sienna, in a letter to one newly ordained, tells him, "The ministers whom the Sovereign Goodness has chosen to be His Christs ought to be angels, not men . . . they in truth discharge the office of angels." "What purity," says a Father of the Church, "what piety shall we require of a priest? Think what those hands ought to be which perform such a ministry; what that tongue which pronounces those words." No sanctity or purity of soul, then, is beyond the aspirations of one whose heaven-born privilege it is to enter the Holy of Holies, to dispense the mysteries of faith, and exercise the "ministry of reconciliation."
A most important function of the ministry is the care of souls. Christ's mission was to save; He was the Good Shepherd, who traveled about preaching to the people, who were like "sheep without a shepherd." And to His Apostles and their successors He gave the solemn charge "to feed His lambs." And this injunction of the Divine Master has been held sacred by the Church throughout its existence. Wherever in the world to-day dwell true believers, there are to be found priests to care for them.
The priest is truly the father of the people committed to him. He must become all things to all men, rejoicing with the joyful, and weeping with the sorrowful. The infants he must receive into the Church, generating in them the life of grace, guarding them as they grow up, and instructing them in doctrine and discipline. To him the bridal couple come for the nuptial benediction; and when sickness and trouble and want invade the household it is to their father in Christ the faithful look for support and encouragement. He is the consoler of all, and he bears the burdens of all. And when the angel of death hovers over his charge, the priest repairs to the bedside of the departing one, to strengthen him for the last journey; and, finally, when the soul has departed, he commits the body to hallowed ground, there to await the resurrection.
The priest, then, must be of heroic mould to satisfy the demands made upon him; he must be ready to endure hunger and cold and weariness, contradictions from within and without, labors by night and day. But the Lord is his inheritance, and for His sake he is willing to endure all the crosses and trials that bear upon him. How splendidly the clergy of our country have responded to their responsibilities is attested by the flourishing state of religion, by the magnificent churches, the well-developed Catholic school system, and the numerous other Church activities about us. Every thoroughly organized parish or mission means the life of at least one priest sacrificed in its formation—the commingling of his sweat and labors with the cement that binds together its material and spiritual stones. But could a life be better spent? What more fitting monument could be left to posterity than a spiritual structure built on Christ and enduring as the foundation on which it rests?
Who, then, may aspire to the glorious career of the priesthood? Is it open to all, or must one await the striking manifestation of the Divine Will inviting him to it? Should he not say, "The priesthood is too exalted for my weakness and unworthiness"? While humility is laudable, it should not bar any one who has the requisite virtue and talent, together with an upright intention, from entering this high estate. Everything depends on one's qualifications and motives. Others will pass judgment on the qualifications, but each one must scrutinize his own motives. If a youth desires the priesthood for natural reasons, to lead an easy life or one honorable in the eyes of men, to attain fame or station, his motives are wrong, or at least, too imperfect to carry him far on the rugged road before him. But if he be swayed by supernatural desires, such as the service of God, his own sanctification or the help of his neighbor, his ambition is praiseworthy. One who is conscious, then, of rectitude of purpose and hopeful with the divine assistance of living up to its obligations, may aspire, without scruple, to the priesthood, the highest of dignities and the greatest of careers open to man.
One day our Lord, instructing His disciples before sending them to preach His coming, said: "The harvest, indeed, is great, but the laborers are few. Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he send laborers into his harvest" (Luke x: 2). And this has been the cry through all the ages—"Send laborers into the harvest!" The Church has always needed good spiritual laborers, men and women, who would be willing to work for God and their neighbor, to extend the Kingdom of God, and this is true to-day of our own beloved country. A host of spiritual laborers is scattered over our land, but the cry is ever repeated, "We need more, the work is too great for our efforts, and all the harvest is not being garnered."
Will you, dear reader, make one more worker in God's field, one more reaper of His harvest that is ripe and falling to the ground because there are none to gather it?
As the acquaintance of young people with religious is frequently limited to their teachers, they are sometimes inclined to identify in their minds the profession of teaching with religious life. And since some feel a diffidence or repugnance in committing themselves to a teaching career, they extend this aversion to the religious state itself. We have shown, however, in a previous chapter that there is great variety and diversity of occupation in religious orders, so that all tastes and inclinations can find congenial exercise in them.
Still, it is probably true, that the great majority of religious men and women are found in the class-room, and this for the good and sufficient reason that Christian education is the paramount need of the day, and the work on which the future of the Church chiefly depends. The young who, perhaps, are tempted to look upon teaching as an obscure employment and a monotonous grind, will do well to reflect that in our time it is considered so honorable a profession that hundreds of thousands, even of those outside the Church, deliberately choose it as the best and most favorable career for the play of their talents.
The professors of our noted universities command the respect and deference of the community, and to them the public look for the solution of the constantly arising civic and social problems. They are regarded as the natural leaders of thought, and are expected to guide and direct popular movements affecting the well-being of society. And this public esteem, is extended in due proportion to all who are engaged in education, for it is universally realized that the standard of morality and intelligence, which is to obtain in the commonwealth, will depend largely on the training given to the young. The teacher is directly employed in the making of good citizens, which is a more important business than the extension of manufactures or commerce. He is setting the ideals according to which the Republic must stand or fall.
And, for persons of refined or intellectual tastes, the instruction of youth must be a pleasurable employment. It is inviting to deal with the young and innocent, who are eager to learn, ambitious to excel, and who in return for their instructor's solicitude, give him unstinted affection and gratitude, and render him loyal obedience and respect. In the teacher's hands is the moulding and shaping of character, the direction of talents which may illumine society. And can any sphere of action be more elevated, more grateful than this?
And then, too, the educator is constantly engaged in the things of the mind, in study, and the discovery of new truths or new applications of old ones, and in imparting his knowledge to fresh, bright intelligences. Nothing is so fascinating to a person of intellectual bent as the pursuit and attainment of truth, and this is the steady occupation of the teacher. Is not the outlook of such a life infinitely wider and more refreshing than the dull routine of business, the noisy rumble of a factory or the sordid dealings of commerce?
But it is principally from the spiritual point of view that education is considered by the Church and religious congregations. The mandate of Christ, "Go ye forth and teach all nations," laid the charge of teaching upon His Church; and on the pastors it devolves to see that the faithful are instructed in Christian doctrines and obligations. To rightfully carry out its mission, the Church has always felt obliged to insist that the education of its children be permeated with religion, and in fulfilment of this duty it has established parochial schools throughout our country, where the young, while acquiring secular science, can at the same time be grounded in the faith and trained to virtuous lives.
It can be said, then, that the religious who conduct these schools share in the apostolic mission of the Church. Every catechetical instruction, every word of exhortation or encouragement to right living and doing which is given in the class-room, is a participation by the teacher in the pastorate of souls, in the announcing and preaching of the Gospel, in the spreading of the Kingdom of God. Without the aid of the school, the pastor ordinarily could not properly teach the young their prayers and catechism, prepare them for the sacraments, and equip them for the manifold exigencies of life.
"Religious education is our most distinctive work," says Archbishop Spalding, of Peoria. "It gives us a place apart in the life of the country. It is indispensable to the welfare and progress of the Church in the United States, and will be recognized in the end as the most vital contribution to American civilization. Fortunate are they, who by words or deeds confirm our faith in the need of Catholic schools; and yet more fortunate are they who, while they inspire our teachers with new courage and zeal, awaken in the young, to whom God has given a heart and a mind, an efficacious desire to devote themselves to the little ones whom Christ loves. What better work, in the present time, can any of us do than foster vocations to our Brotherhoods and Sisterhoods, whose special mission is teaching?"
And Brother Azarias assures us that "There is not in this world among human callings a more sacred one than that of moulding souls to higher and better things."
Bishop Byrne, of Nashville, has well said: "The office of teaching has an advantage in some respects over the priesthood. The teachers are constantly with their pupils, shaping their souls, coloring them, informing them, making them instinct with life and motives, and giving them high ideals and worthy aspirations. In all this their work is akin to that of the confessor."
The need of more teaching Brothers and Sisters is particularly urgent and pressing, as the number of pupils is increasing proportionately faster than the number of religious subjects, and the dearth of teachers prevents the opening of new schools in many places where they are demanded, and also hinders the development of the existing schools. This is the opinion of Bishop Alerding, who wrote: "The Church is being hampered in her work of educating her youth because the number of teachers, Brothers and Sisters, is inadequate." And Bishop McQuaid did not hesitate to say that, "the most pressing want of the Church in America at the present time is that of Brothers to assist in teaching our boys."
In this connection we may observe that some virtuous and self-effacing souls, after the example of St. Francis of Assisi, have a dread of assuming the responsibilities of the priesthood, and there are many others who are debarred from aspiring to that dignity by insufficiency of education. Young men of either of these classes have a splendid opportunity before them to serve God by joining a teaching congregation of Brothers.
Finally, as an encouragement to Christian teachers in their glorious apostolate, let them remember the great reward awaiting their unselfish labors. The Book of Daniel (xii: 3), tells us that "They who instruct many to justice shall shine as stars for all eternity." The inspired writer compares teachers to the stars of heaven, for as the latter illumine the darkness of night, so they who instruct others dispel the darkness of ignorance by shedding the rays of wisdom and knowledge into the minds of their disciples. But there is a deeper meaning in this text, for according to the interpretation of theologians, it contains the assurance to those who teach others their duty, of a special reward or golden crown in heaven, called the Doctor's or Teacher's Aureole. The exact nature of this privilege, whether it is a special gift of loving God or a distinctive garb of glory, we do not know, but as the martyrs and virgins have their special aureole, so will teachers have theirs.
Father Croiset exclaims: "Oh! the beautiful and rich crowns which God prepares for a religious who inspires little children with a horror of vice and a love of virtue! . . . What sweet consolation will be experienced at the moment of death by the religious when he beholds coming to his aid those souls whom he has helped to save." And we may faintly conceive the transport of one who enters heaven accompanied by the resplendent retinue of those whom he has brought with him from earth.
This chapter would not be complete without a word of encouragement to those young men and women whose education is so deficient that they feel incompetent to teach, and so turn away in sadness from the portals of religion, thinking there is no room for them within. Such persons should know that any one who is skilled in a trade, such as that of carpentering, painting, tailoring, or sewing, can be of the greatest utility and acceptability to a community. And there are many offices of a domestic nature, such as that of porter, sacristan, refectorian and steward, which require little preparatory training and can be filled by any one of intelligence and good will.
Nor should persons engaged in such duties entertain the notion that they will not share in the full spiritual privileges of the Order; for by the assistance they give to the other members they are contributing to the end and aim of the Institute and communicate in all the good works performed by it. An edifying incident, illustrative of this point, is told of a famous preacher who moved hearts in a wondrous fashion, and when he was tempted to self-complacency in his success, it was revealed to him that the results of his preaching were due, not to his own eloquence or zeal, but to the prayers of the unobserved lay-brother, who always sat at the foot of the pulpit, telling his beads for the efficacy of the sermon.
When young people read or hear of persons entering religious life, they are apt to say, "Oh, it is easy for them, because they are holy; but it is impossible for me who have so little virtue!" But, as a matter of fact, these religious have the same passions and temptations to overcome, the same flesh and blood, as ourselves, and it was only by conquering themselves, and struggling with their lower inclinations, that they obtained the victory.
A boy was standing one day at a country railway station in the United States, when he met an older boy with whom he engaged in conversation. His casual acquaintance confided to him that he was going off to college to prepare for entrance into a certain religious Order; and he urged the younger lad to accompany him for the same purpose. But the latter replied, "Oh! they wouldn't have me, for I am poor, uneducated and every way unfit." The other insisted, however, and finally prevailed on him to board with him the incoming train. They repaired to the superior of the religious Order, who received them kindly, and sent them both to a boarding school. After a short time the senior student was caught stealing, and dismissed from the college. His whilom companion, however, persevered in his good design, achieved honors in his studies, and finally becoming a religious and a priest, he is today doing effective work in the vineyard of the Lord.
A story is told of a religious who gave a letter to a young man, in which he recommended him as a suitable candidate for his Order, bidding him present the letter to the superior, who lived at a distance. The young man, desirous of joining the Order, started on his journey with a companion named Mathias, who had no notion of becoming a religious. On the way, the would-be religious changed his mind, and abandoning his project, gave the letter to Mathias, who was ignorant of its contents, requesting him to bring it to the superior. The superior read the letter, and thinking the recommendation referred to Mathias, said to him, "Very well, you may go to the novitiate, and put on the habit." Mathias wondered, but obeyed, entered the novitiate, and became a holy religious.
St. Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, and the foremost man of his age, was so handsome and attractive in youth, that the evil-minded laid snares against his chastity. To escape their wiles he determined to enter the Cistercian monastery of Citeaux. His father and brothers endeavored to dissuade him from his purpose, but instead, by his fervid exhortations, he induced four of his brothers and others, to the number of thirty, to enter with him. As the party was leaving home, little Nivard, the sole remaining boy of the family, was at play with some companions. Guido, the eldest of the brothers, embraced him and said, "My dear Nivard, we are going, and this castle and lands will all be yours." The child, "with wisdom beyond his years," the chronicler tells us, "replied, 'what, are you taking heaven for yourselves, and leaving earth to me? The division is not fair.'" And from that day nothing could pacify the boy, until he was permitted to join his brothers.
St. Alphonsus Liguori, who is said to have always preserved his baptismal innocence, was so brilliant a student that at the age of sixteen he had obtained two degrees in the University of Naples. Entering on the practice of the law, he one day in a trial before the court, by an oversight, misstated the evidence. His attention being called to his error, he was so overwhelmed with shame and confusion at his apparent lack of truthfulness, that on returning home he exclaimed, "World, I know you now, Courts, you shall never see me more." And for three days he refused food. He then determined to become a priest, and in the ministry he attained great sanctity. He founded the well-known Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, commonly called the Redemptorists; and for his voluminous doctrinal writings, Pius IX declared him a Doctor of the universal Church.
The story of the entrance of St. Stanislaus Kostka into religion reads like a romance. His father, a Polish nobleman, had placed him and his older brother, Paul, at the Jesuit College in Vienna. When Stanislaus was fifteen years of age he applied for admission into the Jesuit Order, but as he had not the consent of his father, the superior feared to take him. An illness supervened, and the Blessed Virgin came to cure him, and giving the child Jesus into his arms, said to him, "You must end your days in the Society that bears my Son's name; you must become a Jesuit."
Notwithstanding the vision, poor Stanislaus was again refused by the Jesuit superior. Not knowing what other step to take, he thought that by traveling four hundred miles to Augsburg, in Germany, the Jesuit Provincial of that province, who at the time was Blessed Peter Canisius, might receive him, for his jurisdiction seemed beyond the influence of Senator Kostka. If again rejected in Augsburg, he was determined to walk eight hundred miles farther to Rome, where he felt sure of securing his heart's desire. Accordingly, one August morning he rose early and telling his servant that he was going out, bade him at the same time inform his brother Paul not to expect him for dinner. With light and joyous heart he started on his journey, and at the first opportunity exchanged his fine clothes for the disguise of a pilgrim's staff and tunic.
When Paul awoke and learned that Stanislaus was gone for the day, he was surprised, but attributed it to some new pious freak. But as the day wore on, and the shades of evening gathered, with no tidings of his brother, consternation seized Paul, for he realized that his irascible and powerful father would hold him responsible for the safety of the younger boy, whom he loved with a passionate and unbounded affection. Accordingly servants were dispatched in every direction to seek for the truant, but no tidings could be obtained. The conclusion gradually forced itself upon all that Stanislaus had fled, and Paul determined to pursue him and bring him back. For some reason, suspicion was aroused that the runaway had taken the road to Augsburg, and a carriage with two stout horses was ordered for early dawn on the morrow.
Along the highway to Augsburg flew the equipage containing Paul and three companions. Meanwhile, little Stanislaus was trudging bravely along, putting all his confidence in God, when he suddenly heard the rapid beat of horses' hoofs behind him. Suspecting what it meant, he quickly entered a by-lane, and the occupants of the carriage rushed by without seeing, or at least, recognizing, him in his disguise.
Stanislaus continued his pilgrimage in peace, begging his way, for he had no money, and after two weeks, he saw, with inexpressible joy, the roofs and spires of Augsburg gleaming in the setting sun. At last he had reached the haven of rest, and with a bounding heart, the weary boy knocked at the door of the Jesuit college. But alas, for all his hopes! the provincial had gone to Dillingen. The Fathers urged him to stay and rest with them until the provincial's return, but Stanislaus would brook no delay. At once he wended his way toward Dillingen, which he soon reached, and when he knelt at the feet of Blessed Canisius, two saints were face to face. The superior pressed the boy to his heart, and kept him in the college for a few weeks. But as both the elder and younger saint thought Germany still too near the influence of his father for safety, Stanislaus, in company with two religious, set out on a further exhausting walk of eight hundred miles to Rome, where he was received as a Jesuit novice by the General of the Order, St. Francis Borgia.
The angelic boy had at last finished his long pilgrimages, he had entered the earthly paradise for which he had yearned, and for which he had forsaken home, rank and country. But the happiness of religion he soon exchanged for the joys of heaven, for before completing his eighteenth year, and while still a novice, he closed his eyes on this world to open them in company with Mary and the angels on the Beatific Vision.
The home is the nursery of vocations. Most religious can trace the beginnings of their resolve to leave all to the influence of saintly parents and a Christian home. If the parents cultivate faith, charity and industry the fragrance of these virtues will cling round the walls of their dwelling, and perfume the lives of their children.
Every Christian home should be a convent in miniature, filled with the same spirit, productive of the same virtues. It should be a cloister, forbidding entrance to the world and its vanities, and harboring within gentle peace and happiness. Poverty should dwell there, not in the narrower meaning of distress and want, but in the wider acceptation of simplicity, frugality and temperance as opposed to extravagance, display and ostentation. Purity, too, should reign as queen of the hearth, regulating the glance of the eye, the conversation, and even the thoughts of the occupants. And union and harmony of wills, without which the idea of home is inconceivable, can come only through obedience which binds the children to parents, wife to husband, and all to God.
But, unfortunately, this is not always the case. From many domiciles peace and tranquillity have fled, giving place to frivolity, vanity and worldliness and all their attendant train of vices. How many parents, deceived by the wisdom of the flesh, seek their own gratification in all things, and denying their children nothing that luxury or extravagance craves, pamper and spoil them by indulging their every whim. To train up the young to the steady and uncompromising fulfilment of duty is the only means to produce a hardy and sturdy generation of men and women, whose fidelity can be relied on in the trials and emergencies of after-life.
But some fathers and mothers, when their children call for bread, reverse the parable by giving them a stone, and when they ask for an egg, give them a scorpion. We can imagine with what righteous indignation Our Lord would have denounced such a mode of action. Foolish parents even of limited means dress their girls in expensive and gaudy apparel, which not only offends against taste and economy, but sometimes transgresses the laws of modesty and decency. Familiarity between the sexes is permitted and encouraged by doting and foolish mothers, who introduce their sons and daughters to juvenile society functions, receptions, parties and unbecoming dances; so that children who should be at their lessons or playing healthful games with suitable companions, are taught to affect society manners after the most approved fashion of their silly elders. Persons of this stamp may prepare for a rude awakening, for the day of reckoning for themselves and children will be sure and terrible.
Many parents, while indeed quite solicitous according to their lights, for the temporal good of their offspring, training them to a trade or profession, or settling them in marriage, devote but little thought to their spiritual welfare. They dread a vocation in their family as a catastrophe. It would be well, indeed, for persons of this character to ponder the words of the Pastoral Letter of the Second Council of Baltimore: "We fear that the fault lies in great part with many parents, who instead of fostering the desire so natural to the youthful heart, of dedicating itself to the service of God's sanctuary, but too often impart to their children their own worldly-mindedness, and seek to influence their choice of a state of life by unduly exaggerating the difficulties and dangers of the priestly calling, and painting in too glowing colors the advantages of a secular life."
How much better it were for parents to propose to the young the promise of Our Lord, "And every one that hath left house, or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or lands for my name, shall receive a hundredfold, and possess life everlasting." (Matt. xix: 29.) Many a one, whose wayward child has brought dishonor and shame to the family, realizes when all too late the happiness that might have been his had such a child only elected the religious state.
Instead of throwing obstacles in the way of a vocation, those who are appreciative of spiritual things feel honored that God has chosen one of their family circle for His special service. Persons whose sons obtain high position in the army, court or government employ, take a just pride in the distinction thus attained, but such temporal honors cannot be compared with the singular privilege of serving in God's own courts, and dwelling within His sanctuary. Bishop Schrembs, of Toledo, aptly advises pastors "to teach young parents that the service of God is even more glorious than that of country, for as St. Jerome says, 'Such a service establishes ties of relationship between the family and Jesus Christ Himself.'"
Nor do parents, as they sometimes fear, lose a son or daughter who enters religion. One who marries is in a certain sense lost to the parent, for the responsibilities of his new state of life so absorb his energies as to leave him but little opportunity to concern himself about his old home. And frequently distance entirely severs his connection with it. But one who enters God's house does not contract new family alliances, his heart remains free, and though separated from parents, his affection is always true to them, he thinks of them as in his childhood days, and he never ceases to importune the blessings of heaven upon them.
In fact, we may say that a vocation is not strictly an individual, but rather a family possession. A call to God implies sacrifice on the part of the family, as well as of the individual, for while he gives up parents, brothers and sisters, they, too, must part with him. And as they share in the renunciation, they participate also in its merit and reward. In God's household the religious represents his family, he works and prays by proxy for them, and they share in his graces and good deeds. Is it not a matter of daily experience that the family of a religious, particularly the parents, receive abundant graces, that God leads them in various ways to greater fidelity in His service, to a love of prayer and higher perfection? Parents of religious frequently become religious themselves at heart, and though not clothed with the habit, they share in the "hundredfold" promised to the child.
"It is the glory of a large and happy Catholic family to produce a vocation," says Rev. Joseph Rickaby, S.J. "A sound Catholic is glad to have brother or sister, uncle or aunt, or cousin or child, 'who has pleased God and is found no more' in the ordinary walks of life, because God hath taken and translated him to something higher and better."
Parents and teachers, then, who do not hesitate to incline the minds of children to a professional career, should have no fear also to direct their thoughts to higher things. To praise in the family circle the priestly or religious life, to express the hope and desire that one or more of the children may have the great happiness of such a profession, to offer them daily in prayer to God, to train them to piety and devotion, these are all praiseworthy in a father or mother, and if faithfully practiced in all families would doubtless greatly increase the number of God's chosen servants.
Anything approaching coercion or excessive urging should, of course, be avoided, because moral violence should not be done to the child's will. But the remark sometimes made by well-meaning mothers, "O, I would not say a word to influence my child towards religion, for fear of interfering with God's work," shows a lamentable ignorance of the nature of a vocation. One might almost as well say, "O, I am careful not to contribute to the building of a church, because if God wants it built, He will not need any help." If all persons thought thus, such a church would be long in building.
Most of God's works require our cooperation. He designs them and we must carry them out. Many a great project has depended on a timely word, or on the exertions of some man who rose to the occasion. Andrew and John were sent to Our Lord by St. John the Baptist, and they became apostles; and if Andrew had not "found his brother Simon and brought him to Jesus," who knows whether Christ would not have found it necessary to appoint another head of the Church in place of Simon Peter?
To parents, then, belongs the singular privilege of training their children to tender piety, of directing their thoughts to spiritual things; and fidelity to this trust will give us a glorious generation of men and women ready to risk all, to sacrifice all in the service of their Creator.
Now, dear reader, that you and the writer have kept company thus far, he is reluctant to part from you. But if you perceive within you the germ of a vocation, he begs you not to crush it. If in your heart there is a spark of that celestial fire, which may be fanned to a consuming flame of divine love, keep it burning.
Preserve your soul, oh! so perfectly from the slightest touch of evil, remembering that the least deliberate venial sin stains it more than we can comprehend. Above all, cherish holy purity, that exquisite ornament of youth, which, like a polished gem, may so easily lose its lustre. Guard the avenues of your soul, your sight and hearing and the other senses, through which contamination from without is always seeking to enter and defile the beauty of God's handiwork. About us is an atmosphere of worldliness, which we imperceptibly breathe in from the words of companions, from the printed page, and the example of the careless. Shun companionship with the frivolous, vanity of dress, and that indiscriminate reading which only feeds an idle curiosity. The theatres of our day are especially dangerous to virtue, and he who stays away from them entirely, will consult his own advantage, as well as please God.
In this soft and luxurious age the popular trend is to self-gratification in all its forms. But the true Christian must ever strive against corrupt nature, if he would not be carried away by the stream of voluptuousness. Self-denial is the watchword of Christianity. All are called to the practice of penance in some shape or form, the best usually being the exact performance of duty. The young of school age will find a strong shelter from temptation in the scrupulous and enthusiastic performance of their daily tasks and lessons. That small boy had caught the true spirit, who used to rise early, to prepare himself, as he said, for the "missionary" life, to which he aspired.
A material help for boys to prepare for future life, is to serve at the altar. He who sacrifices his morning sleep, overcoming sloth, to minister to the priest at Mass, is already, by a privilege, fulfilling the functions of one of the minor orders, that of the acolyte. The devout server at Mass shares in its graces next to the celebrant, and more than the ordinary faithful who assist at it; and many an altar-boy, as he glided about the sanctuary, mingling with the invisible angels who hovered around the Victim of sacrifice, has felt the seeds of vocation sprouting in his soul.
Devotion to the Mother of God should also be a characteristic of youth. She sympathizes with us, as only a mother can, in all our difficulties and trials. She fully appreciates what we have to contend with, she sees our weakness, the strength of our passions, the temptations we encounter, and she is eager to throw about us the mantle of her protection, if we will only ask her. Never a day should pass without our commending ourselves earnestly to her motherly heart, for she is even more interested in our welfare than we ourselves. She is powerful to aid us, since all good things come to us through her; and she will choose for her devout clients the career in which they may best serve God.
By a strange perversion of mind, we often seek to unravel the perplexities of life, without recourse to prayer. When involved in business anxieties, men spend days of worry in wrestling with them, without perhaps asking the Father of Lights for guidance. And the young also, who must settle for themselves their future career, frequently strive to do so, without the help of heaven. They perhaps consult human advisers, but fail to consult God, the best of counsellors, Who alone can see behind the veil of the future, and infallibly tell what is best for us.
In coming to any important decision, light and strength are needed, light to know the pathway of duty, and strength to follow it. On account of the obscurities and half-lights of our intellect, we perceive but dimly, and often fail to discern the true from the false. The illumination of the white light of Truth is needed to flood the dark recesses of the mind. And even when the truth stands clearly revealed, we are often too indolent or enervated to embrace it; we need the tonic of resolution and courage, which can be infused into us only from on high.
The trustful child of God should, day by day, commend his future into the hands of his heavenly Father, praying Him to shape his life and career. Each one has his own talents, one or many, but he cannot hope to trade or barter with them in a fruitful way unless the Giver of them bless his efforts. Our constant prayer, then, should be for the fulfilment of God's will in our regard, with the lively faith that whatever we ask will be granted.
And of all prayers and devotions, can any be more efficacious or salutary than the frequent reception of the Holy Eucharist? Our Holy Father, Pius X, desires the boys and girls of the whole world to be nourished daily, from the tenderest years, with the Bread of Life, that they may wax strong in the spiritual life, and grow up virile Christians. One Holy Communion, received fervently, should be sufficient to sanctify a soul and awake in it the desire of closest union with Christ, of self-immolation on the altar of Divine Love.
Then what of the soul which is daily nourished with the "Wheat of the Elect and the Wine that springeth forth Virgins?" (Zach. ix: 17.) Holy Communion has been styled the "Marriage Supper of the Lamb," wherein Christ caresses the soul, communicates to it sweetest secrets, and touching it with the ardent flames of His own Heart, purifies it from attachment to creatures, and sets it aglow with the white heat of charity. The frequent communicant, then, is surest of knowing and doing God's will.
In conclusion, the writer may be allowed to indulge the hope that more than one reader may be impelled to aspire to the virgin's aureole, the special privilege of joining the one hundred and forty-four thousand, whom St. John, in the vision of the Apocalypse, saw following the Lamb, whithersoever He went, and singing a canticle that none else could sing, "because they were virgins."
Go now, little book, fly away to some perplexed soul who is anxious to discover the secrets of the Divine Will; and whisper it a message of peace and consolation, telling it that, "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man, what things God hath prepared for them that love Him." (I Cor. ii: 9.)