Second Sermon For The Feast Of The

Second Sermon For The Feast Of The

XIV

SECOND SERMON FOR THE FEAST OF THE

ASSUMPTION

How THE SprriruaL HousE HAS TO BE SWEPT AND xe

GARNISHED FOR THE RECEPTION OF CHRIST

_" Now it came to pass that He entered into a certain citadel and a certain woman named Martha received Him into her house.

And she nad a sister named Mary, who sitting also at the Lord's feet heard His word.

But Martha was busy about much serving ''—Luke x. 38-40.

" Now it came to pass that He entered into a certain citadel and a certain woman named Martha received

_ Him into her house " (Luke x. 38). It appears to me that I cannot do better than to subjoin to this the _ exclamation of the Prophet:

'' O Israel, how great is the house of God, and how vast is the place of His possession ! '' (Bar. iii. 24). Vast beyond a doubt must that place be, in comparison with which this most spacious earth of ours is called a citadel.

Do you not agree, brethren, that that land must be very vast, that country inconceivably great, since the Saviour, issuing forth therefrom and coming down to this lower world, is said to enter into a citadel ? Or does anyone doubt that the citadel of which the Evangelist makes mention is nothing else but the court of " the strong man armed *' (Luke xi. 21), "the prince of this world"

(John xiv. 30), upon whom a Stronger came and robbed him of his goods (Mark iii. 27)? Dearest brethren, let us hasten to enter into that spacious abode of beatitude where there is room enough for all and no man presses on another, so that we '"' may be able to com-

or and height and depth "' (Eph. iii. a oi city of God, the heavenly Jerusalem.

There is reason why we should despair of being admitted in that celestial city, since the King thereof, Who also its Creator, has not disdained to come into this narrow citadel of our earthly home.

But why do I say that He entered into the citadel ? — He condescended to do much more: He even entered — the close prison of a Virgin's womb.

For so the Evangelist says:

''A certain woman received Him into her house.""

O happy woman, who was found worthy to receive not the spies sent to Jericho (Josue ii. 1), but the most mighty Despoiler of that fool who indeed "' is changed as the moon "' (Ecclus. xxvii. 12) ; not the emissaries of '' Jesus the son of Nave "' (Ecclus. xlvi. 1), but the true Jesus Himself, the Son of God.

Happy, I say, is the woman whose house at the coming of the Saviour, was found "swept and garnished" indeed, but by no means "empty '"' (Matt. xxii. 44).

= For how can she be called empty whom the Archangel saluted as '' full of grace'' (Luke 1. 22)?

And not only that, but he also declared that the Holy Ghost was to come upon her (ibid. 35).

To what purpose, think you, if it be not to fill her to overflowing ? To what purpose, I repeat, except that, being filled in herself by His first coming, she might be made to superabound and overflow unto us by His second?

Would to God those spiritual spices, those precious gifts of grace were poured out upon us, so that of so great a fulness we might all receive! (John i. 16). For Mary is our Mediatrix ; she it is through whom

" we have received Thy mercy, O God" (Ps. xlvii. I0) ;

See = a = Re ee Soe ee Cees ; Sen ae ae eyed a - is through whom we have received the Lord

| 4 into our houses.

My brethren, we have each Divine Wisdom knocks at our several doors ; " if any 'man shall hear His voice and open to Him the door, will come into him and will sup with him"

.poc. iii. 20). It is a common saying, one that is often enough in the mouths of men, but more often still in their hearts: He that takes good care of his body guards a noble citadel.

But such is not the _ language of the Wise Man ; he rather counsels: '' With all watchfulness keep thy heart, because life issueth out from it " (Prov. iv. 23).

Let us yield this point, however, and let us say _ with the multitude: He that takes good care of his body, guards a noble citadel.

But it remains to be asked : in what way are we to guard this noble citadel ?

Does it seem to you, my brethren, that that soul _ has guarded the citadel of her body as she ought, whose members she has suffered to conspire, so to speak, and to hand over to the enemy the possession thereof ?

For there are some who " have entered into a league with death and have made a covenant with hell"

(Is. xxviii. 15). '' The beloved one,"' says Moses, "' grew fat and kicked, he grew fat and thick and gross "'

(Deut. xxxii. 15).

Such, doubtless, is the manner of guarding the body which is praised by the sinner in the desires of his flesh (Ps. x. 111, juxta Heb.). What think you, brethren?

Ought we to yield to the multitude in this matter as well?

God forbid!

Let us rather interrogate Paul, that most strenuous leader in the spiritual combat. Tell us, then, O blessed Apostle, how thou guardest the citadel of thy body.

"I so

prise it into San ccdee lest eee vies I hay 'preached to others, I myself should become a cas away "' (1 Cor. ix. 26, 27). And in another place he writes, '' Let not sin reign in your mortal body, so a to obey the lusts thereof' (Rom. vi. 12). This beyond doubt is a useful custody, and happy the soul that — thus guards her body so that the enemy may never claim it for his own.

There was a time when the wicked one had subjected this citadel of mine to his tyrannic sway, ruling its members with the authority — of a master.* Its present desolation and misery bear witness still to the severity of its sufferings during that period.

Alas! there is left in it neither the wall of continence nor the bulwark of patience

(Jer. Lam. ii. 8). The cruel oppressor " hath laid waste the vineyard "' (Ps. Ixxix. 14), cut down the corn, and rooted up the fruit trees.

At his instigation, even "' mine eye hath wasted my soul'"' (Jer. Lam. iil. 51), so that "unless the Lord had been my helper, my soul had almost dwelt in hell' (Ps. xciii. 17): I speak of the " lower hell "' (Ps. Ixxxv. 13) where no one shall confess" to Him (Ps. vi. 6) and out of which there is no deliverance.

But even as it was, my soul was not without a hell and a prison-house. For having been made captive at the very beginning of this detestable conspiracy and | betrayal, she was confined and guarded as a prisoner

* This and what follows must not be taken literally, but only as one of those pious exaggerations to which the saints are often prone.

St. Bernard, according to all his biographers, lived a most innocent life from the cradle and probably never lost his baptismal innocence —(Translator ).

i See EES cme 1er own house, whilst the jailers assigned fisher sre none other than the members of her household.

_ Her conscience became her prison, and her torturers her reason and her memory, cruel torturers indeed, harsh and pitiless, but far less terrible than the lions

"roaring, ready to devour " (Ecclus. li. 4) to which she was on the point of being abandoned.

"' Blessed _ be the Lord Who hath not given me to be a prey to their teeth" (Ps. cxxiii, 6)...

Yes, ""blessed be the <= Lord God of Israel because He hath visited and wrought the redemption "' (Luke i. 68) of my soul. For whilst the malignant one was preparing to thrust her down into the "lower hell" and designing to burn the citadel itself with everlasting flames, so that the bodily members also should be punished as their perfidy deserved: there appeared upon the scene a Mightier than he.

Jesus "entered into the citadel,' and " first binding the strong man, robbed him of his goods' (Mark iii. 27), so that He might '"' make unto honour" the vessels that were "unto dishonour'' (Rom. ix. 21).

'He hath broken the gates of brass and burst the iron bars" (Ps. cvi. 16), and "' brought forth the captive out of prison "' (Is. lii. 7) and out of the shadow of death"

(Ps. cvi. 10). Now it is only through confession such a captive can be delivered.

Confession is the broom, so to speak, by means of which the prisonhouse puts off its forbidding aspect and reassumes its former home-like appearance, being first '' swept, and garnished "' (Matt. xii. 44) afterwards with the beautiful green rushes of regular observances.

The woman has now a home, she has now a place for the entertainment of Him to Whom she is so deeply indebted by reason of countless favours bestowed.

Woe to her if

a oe de Him, if she does not constrain Him to stay with ees "because it is towards evening '' (Luke xxiv. 29) Fora he that has been driven forth shall find on his return the house '' swept and garnished "' indeed, but without a an occupant.

Then shall he go and, taking with him seven other spirits worse than himself, entering in he shall dwell there (Matt. xii. 45).

; Thus, dearest brethren, her house is '' left desolate "

| (Matt. xxiii. 38) to the soul that neglects to make it worthy of the Saviour's presence. But you may desire ri to know how this can be. Is it possible, you may feel

— inclined to ask, that a house "' swept" by confession of past sins and " garnished "' with regular observance should nevertheless be reputed unworthy to be inhabited by heavenly grace or to be entered by the Saviour?

Most certainly, my brethren, it is possible, if only the exterior parts of the house have been swept

clean and adorned, as I have said, with the green rushes of faithful discipline, whilst all within is covered ee with filth.

Surely no one believes that the Lord can ss be worthily entertained in the "' whited sepulchres "' of — the dead, "' which outwardly appear to men beautiful

- : but within are full of all filthiness'' (Matt. xxii. 27) and corruption.

I allow that occasionally, allured as it were by the attractive appearance of the outside,

He begins to enter, and has already, so to speak, one foot on the threshold, by the bestowal of some first grace of divine visitation: but does He not imme- ~ diately withdraw in anger? Does He not at once take flight, exclaiming "I have stuck fast in the mire of the deep and there is here nothing solid'"' (Ps. Ixviii 3).

That is, there is no true and solid virtue but only an

| ce, a quality as it were without a s | But the thin varnish of an externally virtuous life affords

'no firm footing for the entrance of Christ, Who penerates all things and desires to make His dwelling in ne very centre of the heart.

We are told that the pirit of discipline " will not dwell in a body mani_ festly subject to sins' (Wisdom i. 4); but He will not alone avoid, He will flee and remove Himself far

= ~ from the body where sins lie concealed, covered with the simulation of virtue.

What else is that but a detestable simulation, if, instead of plucking up vice _____by the roots within, we content ourselves with pruning

_ it on the exterior?

Oh, be sure it will sprout again more abundantly than before; be sure the malicious tenant that has been expelled will come back again

"with seven other spirits more wicked than himself "'

(Matt. xii. 45) and re-enter the house, " finding it swept and garnished "' indeed, yet "' empty."

For "the dog that returneth to his vomit " (Prov. xxvi. II) becomes more hateful than ever; and he is made " a child of hell" (Matt. xxiii. I5) many times worse than before, whosoever, after obtaining the pardon of his sins, falls back into the same, like " the sow that was washed wallowing. again in the mire" (2 Peter ii. 20).

Brethren, do you wish to behold a house that is "swept and garnished" but " empty? © Look at that man who has confessed and renounced

" sins manifest, going before to judgment "

(zr Tim. vy. 24) and who now applies nothing but his hands to the works of justice, going through every spiritual exercise with a heart devoid of all devotion and merely from custom, as the '"'heifer of Ephraim, taught to love to tread out the corn" (Osee x. II). With regard to > P

PAT in Iv. 8), he passes over r not "one Sot. or tittle '' (Matt. v. 18), although whilst " straining gnat he swallows a camel"' (Matt. xxiii. 24). Fo his heart he is the slave of self-will, of avarice, of vai glory, of ambition, fostering secretly, if not all these vices together, at least each of them in turn.

And _ so "iniquity lieth to itself' (Ps. xxvi. 12), although "God is not deceived" (Gal. vi. 7).

For you may sometimes see a man so perfectly tricked out in the colours of virtues as to deceive even himself, not noticing the worm that devours his vitals.

He con- | siders everything secure because the fair exterior is still preserved, In the words of the Prophet, "' Strangers have devoured his strength and he hath not known''

(Osee vii. 9). He says to himself, 'I am rich, and made wealthy and have need of nothing," whereas he

_ is " wretched and miserable, and poor " (Apoc. iii. 17).

Yes, and given the due conditions you shall see the corrupted matter, now concealed, welling out from the festering sore, and the tree that has been pruned but not uprooted sending out new branches in greater abundance than ever.

Dearest brethren, if we would avoid this danger, let us lay the axe, not to the branches, but to the root of the trees (Matt. i. 10).

Let there be found in us not only " bodily exercise "' which by itself '' is profitable to little '' (1 Tim. iv. 8), but " piety '' also, which "is profitable to all things "

(ibid.), and the practice of solid virtue.

'A certain woman," says the Evangelist, " named Martha, received Him into her house ; and she had a sister called Mary.'' Martha and Mary are sisters and so, like good sisters, should live under the same roof.

e former is " busy with much serving," the latter — __ attends exclusively to the words of Christ (ibid. 39, 40).

_ To Martha appertains the "' garnishing "' of the house, to Mary the filling thereof, so that it shall not be

- found " empty ": for her time is left vacant to attend _ to the Lord that the house itself may not be left vacant

_ by Him.

But, brethren, to whom can we assign the _ sweeping ? For if we are able to discover someone for this, the house into which the Saviour is received shall be found "swept and garnished" in truth yet not "empty."' Suppose, then, we give the broom to Lazarus, that is, unless you have something better to suggest.

Being a brother to the two sisters, he has a right to share their home.

I am speaking, observe, of that Lazarus who, after he had been four days in the tomb and was already corrupted, was awakened from the dead by " the voice of power" (Ps. Ixvii. 34). He can therefore be considered without the least impropriety as the type of holy penitence. We may suppose, then, that the Saviour will enter and visit often that house which is swept by the penitent Lazarus, which is garnished by the busy Martha, and filled by the reposeful

Mary whilst she occupies herself with the contemplation of spiritual things.

— But perchance someone, piously curious, is anxious to know why it is that in this Gospel lesson there is no mention at all of Lazarus?

To my mind, this omission is quite in accord with the mystical interpretation I have just proposed to you.

For the Holy Spirit, intending that we should understand the house of our Gospel to be Mary's virginal soul, avoids, as is only becoming, any allusion to penitence which presupposes sin.

God forbid that this house should be

ore Side Rg peas

said to have ever had any such defilement of - own so as to need the broom of Lazarus! E _ supposing that the Virgin inherited the original sta from her parents,* Christian piety will not allow us to believe that she was less sanctified in the womb than was the Prophet Jeremias (Jer. i. 5) or less filled with the Holy Ghost than the Baptist (Luke i. 44). Besides, — had she not been born holy, her birthday would not be honoured throughout the universal Church with such

_ joyous festivities. Finally, since there can be no doubt at all that Mary was cleansed from the inherited defilement by grace alone—just as it is by grace alone that _ stain is now washed away in the sacrament of baptism, whilst with the " knives of stone'' (Josue v. 11) alone it could be removed under the former Dispensation:

© such being the case, and the holy Virgin being entirely free from personal sin, as we all piously believe, it — follows that her most innocent heart could have had no experience of penitence.

Therefore, let Lazarus abide with them that have need to "' cleanse their conscience from dead works "' (Heb. ix. 14) ; let him dwell with '' the wounded sleeping in the sepulchres'"'

(Ps.

Ixxxvii. 6) : but in the Virgin's home let none be found save the sisters Mary and Martha.

For did she not act the part of Martha whilst for three months she humbly attended her aged cousin Elizabeth, who was about to become a mother (Luke i. 56) ? And she fulfilled the role of Mary when she kept all the words that were said of her Son, '' pondering them in her heart '' (Luke ii. 19).

* For St. Bernard's attitude towards the doctrine of Mary's Immaculate Conception, cf. Sermons on the Canticle of Canticles vol. i. 253-4 ; ii. 429 and Passaglia, de Im. Conc. iii. 1820-43.

Rage Hg ee i aot ea F no one be surprised, therefore, that the nan Teceived the Saviour is called, not Mary, but tha : because this incomparable Virgin is found to ite in her single self the busy ministrations of Martha d the equally busy repose of Mary. For not only is e woman said that "all the glory of the King's daughter is within "' (Ps. xliv. 14), but likewise that she is "clothed round about with varieties, in golden borders "' (ibid.).

For the Virgin Mary is not one of the foolish virgins ; she is the most prudent of virgins: not only is she possessed of a lamp, but she has oil alsoin her vessel

(Matt. xxv. 2-4). You have not forgotten, I suppose, the Gospel parable which represents the foolish virgins as excluded from the wedding-feast ? Now, their house

_ was certainly swept, because they are said to have ___ been virgins ; it was garnished too, since we are told that all the virgins together, that is, both the wise and the foolish, trimmed their lamps ; but it was empty, for the reason that they had no oil in their lamps.

Hence it was that the Heavenly Bridegroom deigned neither to be received by them into their house nor to admit them to the marriage supper in His own.

Very different from these was that "' valiant woman " (Prov.

XXX1. I0) by whom has been crushed the serpent's head (Gen. iii. 15).

For amongst the many eulogies pronounced upon her by the Wise Man you may read this also: 'Her lamp shall not be put out in the night " (Prov. xxxi., 18).

This has been said as a reproach to the foolish virgins, who, when the Bridegroom came at midnight, began to lament all too late that their lamps had gone out (Matt. xxv. 8).

But our glorious Virgin advanced to meet Him with her lamp alight and burning so brightly as to astonish the

4 — fellows eps: xliv. 8) by Him Who is the 'Auth grace, Jesus Christ, her Son and our Lord.

_ THIRD SERMON FOR THE FEAST OF THE

Beste

ASSUMPTION

ON THE DIFFERENT EMPLOYMENTS OF MARTHA, Mary,

AND LAZARUS

© Martha, Martha, thou art careful and art troubled about many things.

But one thing is necessary.

Mary hath chosen the best part, which shall not be taken away from her ''— LUKE. xX. 41, 42.

¢ Jesus "entered into a certain citadel, and a certain woman named Martha received Him into her house " ieee wid (Luke x. 38). How is it, my brethren, that of the two sisters only one is said to have received the Saviour, and she the lesser of the two?

For we know from the testimony of Him Whom Martha received that " Mary hath chosen the best part '' (ibid. 42). Martha, however, seems to have been the elder, and, as is obvious enough, the beginning of salvation belongs rather to action than to contemplation.

Christ praises Mary, but it is Martha who receives Him.

So of old Jacob loved his Rachel, but during the night her sister Lia was put in her place without his perceiving it ; and when he complained of the fraud practised upon him, he was informed that "it is not the custom to give the younger in marriage first"?

(Gen. xxix. 24-26).

Now, if you consider that the house here in question is an earthly house, you will easily understand why it was Martha and not Mary who received the Lord into it.

It was to Martha rather than to Mary the Apostle addressed himself when he said, " Glorify and bear

_ God in your body" (1 Cor. vi. 20).

For the for employs the body as a means of well-doing, where: to the latter it is more a hindrance than a help. Th is what we read in Wisdom:

"' The corruptible body a load upon the soul, and the earthly habitation presseth down the mind that museth upon many things"

(Wisdom ix. 15).

Yes, it '"' presseth down the mind ~ that museth,"" but not the mind that is busy about — exterior ministrations. On earth, therefore, it is Martha who receives the Saviour into her house, whilst Mary

— considers rather how she may be received by Him © into that '' house not made with hands, eternal in heaven '' (2 Cor. v. 1).

Perhaps, however, she also can be said to receive Him into her house, but in a spiritual sense: for the Lord is a Spirit (John iv. 24).

"And she—that is to say, Martha—had a sister named Mary, who sitting also at the Lord's feet, heard

His word."' You observe how the Saviour was received by both sisters, by the one in His bodily presence, by the other in His speech.

"' But Martha was busy about much serving.

Who stood and said: Lord, hast Thou no care that my sister hath left me alone to serve? "'

Brethren, are we to suppose that the sound of murmuring is heard in the house where Christ is enterBE POA

MER VEE ISRC Nl tained ? Oh, happy the house, blessed for ever the community in which Martha has reason to complain thus of Mary!

But, on the other hand, it would certainly be shameful and even sinful on the part of Mary to envy Martha.

For where in the Gospel do we find Mary complaining of Martha and saying to the Lord,

"My sister hath left me alone in the enjoyment of contemplative repose''?

God forbid it, my dearest brethren, God forbid it, I say, that he who has ample

a hat gh nee sure for prayer should ever wish to exchange his 7 for the distracted life led by such members of the _ unity as have to busy themselves about external gs! For Martha, indeed, it would be well that she ould always seem to herself insufficient and unsuited r the task assigned her and should desire to see the office she holds transferred to some other.

'' But the Lord answering said to her: Martha, Martha, thou art careful and art troubled about many things."

See what a prerogative is Mary's!

What an apologist she _ has against all kinds of censors!

If the Pharisee becomes indignant (Luke vii. 39), if Martha complains, : if the disciples murmur (Matt. xxvi. 8): Mary always holds her peace and Christ takes it upon Him to defend me her Mary hath chosen the best part,'"' says He,

_ "which shall not be taken away from her" for ever.

This is the "' one thing that is necessary ''; this is the one thing that the Prophet prayed for so earnestly, as he tells us in the psalm, " One thing I have asked of the Lord, this will I seek after " (Ps. xxvi. 4).

But, my brethren, how are we to understand these words of the Lord : '' Mary hath chosen the best part'?

For if her part be the more excellent, what truth is there in the answer we are accustomed to make whenever we find her disposed to regard as iniquity the _bustling solicitude of the busy Martha: " Better is the iniquity of a man than a woman doing a good turn '"'

(Ecclus. xlii. 14) ? Or what meaning can there be in the Saviour's words:

" If any man minister to Me, him will My Father honour" (John xii, 26), '"" Whosoever will be the greater among you, let him be your minister "'

(Matt. xx. 26)? Or lastly, what comfort can it be for the toiling Martha to hear herself reproved in the

ae os me, cane that we must Mee one or of two interpretations : either say that Mary is mended for choosing the contemplative life, as in it the better part, so that, in as far as it depends up us, we should all make the same choice ; or that she is praised for her detachment, in neither refusing n

_ over-eagerly embracing either part but showing herself ready to obey in all things the will of her Lord. For '' who is so faithful as David, going out and coming in and proceeding in all things according to the King's — command ?" (1 Kings xxii. 14): Hence he says in one | of his psalms, '"' My heart is ready, O Lord, my heart is ready "' (Ps. lvi. 8), ready, that is, for either one part — or the other ; ready to enjoy Thee in peaceful contemplation or to minister to Thee in the person of my

— neighbour.

Here in truth is 'the best part which — shall not be taken away"; here you have the most excellent of dispositions, which remains always the same no matter to which side it may happen to be summoned.

'"' They that have ministered well,' so says the Apostle, "shall purchase to themselves a good degree' (1 Tim. iil. 13). Perhaps they shall purchase a still better degree whosoever shall have devoted themselves well to the prayer of God.

But the best degree : shall undoubtedly be assigned to such as shall have attained to perfection in both the active and the contemplative lives.

There is one more remark I should like to make here. I am not sure whether it is permissible to suspect anything such of Martha, but does it not seem to you as if she regarded as idle the sister whom she asked to be given her as a helper?

But he that reproves the contemplative soul for her want

erceiveth not these things that are of the Spirit of fer Cor. i. 14).

Let him know, therefore, that { is the best part, which is destined to endure for ever.

But as for the soul that has never practised ivine contemplation, when she arrives there where this is the one occupation, the one concern, the very

_ life of all, how can she appear otherwise than awkward, so to speak, and out of place ?

_ But, dearest brethren, let us consider how rightly _ ordered charity has distributed these three spiritual employments in this house of ours, allotting to Martha the external administration, to Mary interior contemplation, and the practice of penance to Lazarus.

It is _ true, all three occupations are found united in every perfect soul ; nevertheless, different souls seem to be

_ intended more particularly for different functions, some being called to the repose of prayer, others to the exercise of fraternal charity, others again to the practice of penance, "' recounting all their years in the bitterness of their soul" (Is. xxxviii. 15), 'like the slain sleeping in the sepulchres"' (Ps. Ixviii. 6).

Such a division appears to be plainly necessary, so that Mary's mind may be occupied with loving and lofty sentiments of her God, Martha's with kind and compassionate thoughts of her neighbour, and that the mind of Lazarus may think of nothing but his own misery and abjection. Let each one consider with himself to which of these grades he belongs.

'"' If these three men, Noe, Daniel and Job, shall be found in this city : they shall deliver their own souls by their justice, saith the Lord of Hosts ..

. but they shall deliver neither sons nor daughters' (Ezech. xiv. 14-16).

I flatter no man.

ae - r = ; : a gh a ee $ eS i pe _ Would to God I were equally certain that none o flattered and deceived himself!

They to whon part undoubtedly is either to sit with Mary at feet of Jesus, or else to sit with Lazarus within tl sepulchral vault.

As for Martha, what wonder is = that she is "' troubled about many things," since she — has care of many things? But thou that art under no obligation to submit to such distractions, oughtest either not to be troubled at all, but rather to "delight in the Lord" (Ps. xxxvi. 4), or, if that be not yet possible, thou oughtest to be troubled not 'about many things,' but only about one, that is, about thine own self, like the Psalmist (Ps. xli. 7).

I will repeat what has just been said, so that no one may have the excuse of ignorance: thou, my brother, who hast nothing to do with building the ark of Noe or with piloting the same through the waters of the flood, oughtest to be "' a man of desires "' as was Daniel (Dan. ix. 23), or like the blessed Job,

"a man of sorrows and acquainted with infirmity "'

(Is. cliii. 3). Otherwise, I fear lest, being found lukewarm and nauseous, He should vomit thee out of His

: mouth, Who desires to find thee either warmed from the consideration of Himself and glowing with the heat of charity, or else humbled and cold from the one thought of thine own misery (Apoc. iii. 16), having

'extinguished all the fiery darts of the most wicked one' (Ephes. vi. 16) with the water of holy compunction.

But even Martha herself also needs to be admonished that this is especially '' required among the dispensers, that a man be found faithful" (x Cor. iv. 2). Now a dispenser will be faithful if he neither

"seeks" the things that are his own, but the thin — hat are Jesus Christ's" (Phil. ii. 21), so that his intention may be pure ; nor does his own will, but the ll of his Lord, so that his actions may be rightly

(Matt. vi. 22), and such as these '' have received their reward" (ibid. 2). There are others who follow the guidance of their own natural feelings in everything

_they do, so that whatever they offer appears tainted, their own will being found in all their oblations (Is.

_ Iviii. 3). Come with me now, dearest brethren, to the inspired nuptial song, and let us consider how the Heavenly Bridegroom, where He calls to Him His

_ Bride, has neither omitted any of these three occupations nor added to them a fourth.

'' Arise," He says, 'make haste, My friend, My dove, My beautiful one, and come"' (Cant. ii. 10). Does she not deserve to be called His friend who, wholly intent on making profit

_ for her Master, carries her fidelity so far as to be willing even to lay down her life for Him ? (John xv. 43)s) For as often as she interrupts her spiritual exercises in order to minister to one of His least brethren (Matt. xxv. 40), so often does she lay down her life, in a spiritual sense, for His sake. And is she not beautiful who, "' beholding the glory of the Lord with open face, is transformed into the same image, from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the Lord" (2 Cor. iii. 18)? Andis she not a dove who laments and sighs " in the clefts of the rock, in the hollow places of the wall" (Cant. ii. 14), as if buried beneath a sepulchral slab ?

" A certain woman named Martha received Him into her house."

It admits of no doubt, dearest brethren, that Martha represents the officials of the monastery,

_ with the aifferent external scence And' would p toGod: pee deserved " to be found faithful a1

: the dispensers"' (m Cor. iv. 2)! For to whom, I ask, | are the words of the Lord: '' Martha, Martha, thou a1 careful'': more evidently applicable than to religic 1s superiors, provided they govern with due solicitude. for the welfare of their charge ?. And who is " troubled about many things," if not the superior that has to watch over Mary in her contemplative repose and over —

Lazarus in his exercises of penance and even over them to whose shoulders he has transferred a share of the burden of government ? Behold the " careful '' Martha, — behold Martha " troubled about many things," in the — person of the Apostle who, whilst admonishing prelates _ of the solicitude required of them, was himself burdened

— with '' solicitude for all the churches " (2 Cor. xi. 28).

"Who is weak," he exclaimed, "' and I am not weak ?

Who is scandalised, and I am not on fire ?'' (ibid. 29).

Therefore, let Martha receive the Lord into her house, since to her has been entrusted the administration of the house.

Martha holds the position of a mediatrix, and it is her business to obtain grace and salvation both for herself and for all committed to her care, according to what is written, '' Let the mountains receive peace for the people, and the hills justice"

(Ps. Ixxii. 3).

Let the superior's assistants exercise hospitality towards the Saviour in the manner determined by their office, some being appointed to welcome

Him, others to attend Him, others to minister to Him in His members, this one in the sick brethren, that one in the poor, a third in the guests and strangers.

Whilst all these are thus '' busy about much serving,"'

= ie tranquillity i mind she may sit at the feet of _ Jesus, '' setting Him always in her sight' (Ps. xv. 8)

-and receiving the words of grace that fall from His mouth, Whose speech is as sweet as His countenance is lovely.

For "' grace is poured abroad on His lips,"' and "He is beautiful above the sons of men" (Ps.

_ xliv. 3), yea, beautiful above all the glories of the angelic choirs. Rejoice, then, O Mary, and be thankful

_ too for that thou hast indeed '' chosen the best part."

Blessed are the eyes that see what thou seest, blessed the ears that deserve to hear what thou hearest.

Oh, blessed in truth art thou that " receivest the veins of the divine whisper "' (Job iv. 12) in the silence wherewith "it is good for a man to await the salvation of God " (Jer. Lam. iii. 26). Be simple with thy Lord, putting away from thee not alone all guile and simulation, but equally all multiplicity of occupation, so that thou mayest converse freely with Him Whose voice is so sweet and Whose face so comely (Cant. ii. 14).

There is one thing against which thou must be on thy guard: thou must not begin to '' abound in thine own sense '' (Rom. xiv. 5) or wish '' to be more wise than it behoveth to be wise" (Rom. xii. 3), lest perchance in pursuing the light thou shouldst fall into darkness, led astray by "the noon-day devil" (Ps. xc. 6), concerning whom this is not the proper time to speak. But what has become of Lazarus?

' Where have you laid him ? " (John xi. 34). I am addressing the sisters who have buried their brother by their preaching and their ministration, by their example and their

Biviect of my fourth < sermon Phin. who " is now _ days " (John xi. 39) ; so that after the Saviour's es on hearing the announcement, "' Behold he whom

| — Jovest is sick,"' I also shall rest here for to-day.

— Ea Se

= FOURTH SERMON FOR THE FEAST OF THE

ASSUMPTION

ON THE

RESURRECTION

OF LAZARUS

AND ON THE a

DIGNITY AND VIRTUES OF MARY

"When He had said these things, He cried with a loud voice :

Lazarus, come forth''—John xi. 43. i Dearest brethren, this is a time when all flesh Should shout for joy, because the Mother of the Word

. made flesh is assumed into heaven ; nor should human mortality desist from singing songs of praise on this glorious festival, when the nature of man is elevated in the Virgin to solitary eminence, high above all the orders of immortal spirits.

But whilst my devotion to God's blessed Mother will not suffer me to be silent concerning her glories to-day, I feel persuaded, on the other hand, that neither my barren mind can conceive nor my unpolished tongue express anything worthy of so grand a theme.

Even the very princes of the heavenly court, contemplating so great a wonder, cannot help crying out in admiration, " Who is she that cometh up from the desert flowing with delights ? "

(Cant. viii. 5). Which may be paraphrased as follows:

" Who is this glorious creature?

And how is it that one coming up from the desert of earth overflows with such delights?

For delights similar to these cannot be found even amongst ourselves who are made joyful in the city of God by the stream of the river (Ps. xlv. 5), and who are made to drink of the torrent of

TION "V95 ; d Ags oes Pp Dp eastre that ive from the vision of Bon (Ps. xxxv. 9) ee Who can she be that thus cometh up flowing with spiritual delights, cometh up from under the sun wilere' there is nothing but labour and sorrow and affliction — of spirit ? (Eccles. i. 17)." Why may I not call by the — name of delights that splendour of virginity united to the gift of fecundity, that loveliness of humility, that. am

"dropping honeycomb "' of divine charity (Cant. iv. 11), those "' bowels of mercy '"' (Luke i. 78), that fulness of = heavenly grace, that prerogative of singular glory?

_ The Queen of the universe, therefore, going up from the ie desert, "is become lovely and sweet in her delights,'' as — the Church sings,* even to the holy angels.

Nevertheless, let them cease to wonder at the delights found in this our desert, recollecting that, according to what is promised in the psalm, "'the Lord hath given goodness and our earth hath yielded her fruit' (Ps.

Ixxxiv. 13). For why should they wonder to see Mary "going up flowing with delights '' from the desert of this earth?

Surely there is more reason to wonder at Christ coming down in poverty from the abounding wealth of the heavenly kingdom.

For it appears to be a far more astounding thing that the Son of God | should be '' made a little less than the angels"' (Ps.

"a viii. 6), than that the Mother of God should be exalted : above the angels.

His emptying of Himself has been the filling of us (Phil. ii. 7), His miseries are our delights.

For "' being rich He became poor for our sakes, that through His poverty we might be made rich" (2 Cor.

* " Speciosa facta es et suavis In deliciis tuis, sancta Dei Genetrix."'

Versicle and responsory used at Lauds and Vespers of this festival as also on other feasts of the Blessed Virgin — (Translator ).

3ut not only did Christ, Who is our Life (Col. iii.

4), _ empty Himself for our sakes, He even hastened to the pulchre in order to recall from the dead him that as already "of four days" (John xi. 39) ; and He sought Lazarus — who, if your charity remembers, is to be according to promise the subject of the sermon

~ to-day— in order to be sought and to be found by Lazarus.

For " in this is charity: not as though we __ had loved God, but because He hath first loved us "'

: (rt John iv. Io).

Go, then, O Lord, seek him whom __ Thou lovest so as to make him also a seeker and a lover. Inquire where they have laid him (John xi. 34) :

__ for he lies concealed under the stone, bound and burdened.

He lies in the prison-house of his conscience, he is bound with the bands of discipline, he is burdened and oppressed with the heaviness of his penance as with the weight of a superincumbent slab ; particularly because he has not yet attained to that charity which is "' strong as death" (Cant. viii. 6) and "' beareth all things '' (r Cor. xiii. 4).

And in this state "he stinketh, for he is now of four days" (John xi. 39).

I think the minds of many of you have anticipated my words and already understand whom I am speaking of under the name of Lazarus. Anyhow, the Lazarus

I refer to is he who has just recently died to sin (Rom. vi. 2), and has " digged in the wall" of his conscience so that he can see the many "' wicked abominations "

(Ezech. viii. 8-9) of his corrupt and inscrutable heart; or in the words of another prophet, he has " entered into the rock and hidden in the digged earth from the face of the fury of the Lord" (Is. ii, 10) a i

aa Dit, my brethren, how are we to understand words, '' Lord, by this time he stinketh, for he is of four days" (John xi. 39)?

For it may be stench and these days have a deeper signification tha appears on the surface. As for me, I take the first day to be the day of holy fear, wherein, our hearts being — illuminated, we die to sin and are buried, so to speak, in the sepulchre of our conscience.

The second day, so it seems to me, is passed amidst the labours of conflict.

For in the beginning of our conversion to God we are wont to be assailed with particular violence by temptations arising from evil habits and can scarcely a "extinguish the fiery darts of the most wicked one"

(Ephes. vi. 16).* The third day I consider to be the day of sorrow.

For it is then one "recounts all his © years in the bitterness of his soul" (Is. xxxviii. 15), and is more occupied in bewailing the sins of the past than in labouring to avoid future offences.

Are you surprised to hear me explaining the days in this sense ?

But remember these are the days that belong to the sepulchre, days of darkness and clouds, of affliction and lamentation (Soph. i. 15). There follows next the day ee of shame, a day not unlike the three preceding, in | eg which the miserable soul is overwhelmed with horrible confusion, whilst she ponders on the multitude and

magnitude of her crimes and sadly reviews with the Bes eyes of the heart the repulsive images of her past

* Similarly in the magnificent discourse preached to the clergy of Paris and entitled ''De Conversione,'' the holy Doctor says: ''It is the lesson of our daily experience that when a man seriously resolves to amend his life, he begins at once to be more fiercely assaulted by the concupiscence of the flesh ; he ts, as it were, like the Israelites of old, more cruelly oppressed in works of brick and clay for attempting to flee out of Egypt and from the power of King Pharo"' (Exod. v) —(Translator ),

. The soul in this state hides nothing from — _ herself: she rather examines everything, makes much seeof everything, even magnifies everything.

Far from _ being over-lenient, she judges her own case with the nost rigorous severity. But such severity is profitable, uch cruelty is found worthy of the divine compassion.

For she easily obtains the grace of God when in the interests of His glory she exercises justice against herself.

Nevertheless, 'Lazarus, come forth" (John _ Xl. 43) now from the tomb and do not remain too long in this stench of corruption ; because the flesh that is

_ malodorous is nigh to rottenness, and he that is excessively confounded and afflicted for his sins is not far from the brink of despair.

Wherefore, '" Lazarus, come forth.''

" Abyss calleth on abyss" (Ps. xli. 8), the abyss of light and mercy on the abyss of misery and darkness.

The goodness of God is greater than thine iniquity, and where sin abounds, causes grace to abound the more (Rom. v. 20). "' Lazarus, come forth,"' that is to say:

'"' How long wilt thou remain under the cloud of thy conscience?

How long wilt thou 'be contrite upon thy bed' (Ps. iv. 5) in heaviness of heart ?

Come forth, walk abroad, rejoice in the light and free air of My compassion.

This is only what thou hast read in the Prophet, ' With My praise I will bridle thee lest thou shouldst perish ' (Is. xlviii. 9). And more clearly still another prophet says of himself, ' My soul is troubled within myself, therefore will I remember muee = (Ps. xii: 4).

Now what is the mystical meaning of the Saviour's command to " take away the stone," and a little later to "loose him and let him go" ? (John xi. 39-44).

Are we to suppose, my brethren, that after being visited _

by the grace of consolation our Lazarus will ae "do penance, because the kingdom i heaven is hand" (Matt. iii. 4), or will renounce " discipline, and SO og the Lord be angry and he perish from the — just way "

(Ps. il. 12) ? God forbid! No, let the ston indeed be taken away, but let penance remain, penance that no longer burdens and oppresses the sick soul, but rather gives fresh life and vigour to the already revived and vigorous soul; for that which before she would not touch is now become her food, namely, to do the will of the Lord (Job vi. 7, John iv. 34).

So too with discipline which has ceased to be a restraint upon her freedom, according to the words of the Apostle :

'' The law was not made for the just man"

= (x Tim. i. 9), and serves now only to direct her willing _ steps "into the ways of peace" (Luke i. 79).

It is manifestly to this spiritual resuscitation of Lazarus the Royal Prophet is alluding when he says, speaking to ae the Lord, "' Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell"

= (Ps. xv. 10), because, as I remember to have remarked ; in the sermon for the second day of this feast, a guilty

: conscience may be called the hell or the prison of the soul.

'' Nor wilt Thou give Thy holy one (observe, the Prophet does not say, " my holy one," but " Thy holy one," viz., the one whom Thou hast made holy) to see corruption"

(ibid.); although he was nigh to corruption, since he was already " of four days'"' and had begun to give out an offensive odour.

Yea, he was on the point of utter dissolution and of " falling into the depths of evils" in which " the wicked man contemneth " (Prov. xviii. 3). But prevented by " the voice of power"' (Ps. lxvii. 34) and reanimated by the same, he gives thanks in the words, " Thou hast made

> with Btsise © say, "In order that she may begin to contemplate the beauty of Thy face, ' Thou hast brought forth my from hell' (Ps. xxix. 4), where 'my spirit was anguish within me' (Ps. cxlii. 4) contemplating the exceeding loathsomeness of the face of its own conscience."

"He cried," says the Evangelist, ' with a great (magna) voice."

Justly indeed is that voice Called great, not so much because of its loudness as _ by reason of its piety and its irresistible power.

__ But whither have we come? Had we not begun to _ follow the Virgin in her flight to the heaven of heavens ?

And behold, with Lazarus, we have descended into the _abyss!

The sermon has dropped on a sudden from _ the splendour of virtue to the stench of a corpse four days in the sepulchre! What is the cause of this, my brethren, unless it be that I have been borne down by my own weight, that I have been attracted earth_ ward by the abundance of matter found here ready to hand, and not less familiar than abundant?

I acknowledge my incapacity to discourse on lofty themes, I make no attempt to hide my timidity.

It is true, there is nothing gives me greater delight than to preach on the glories of the Virgin Mother, yet neither is there anything that causes me greater fear.

For without speaking of the unutterable treasure of her merits or of her absolutely unique prerogative as Mother of God, she is—as indeed she well deserves—loved by all with such tender affection, so highly honoured and venerated, that although everyone is eager to glorify her name, whatever can be said on that ineffable subject, for the sole reason that it can be said, does not fully

- How, in truth, could that little cs ane than sat _ fying, that little which the human intellect can

¢ -prehend of such incomprehensible glory?

If I beg to speak in praise of her virginity, behold many 6) virgins after her seem to present themselves before (Ps. xliv. 15).

Should I extol her humility, perhaps _ again others may be found, even though but few, wl have learned from her Divine Son to be '' meek an humble of heart' (Matt. xi. 29).

And when I wish to proclaim the multitude of her mercies, I recall that there have been some besides her remarkable for mercy both men and women.

There is one thing, however, with regard to which, as the Poet sings, she Had no precursor in the years before And peerless shall remain for evermore, In whom with joys of motherhood we find The glory of virginity combined —SEDULIUs.

"Mary," said the Lord, "hath chosen the best part."'

Oh, truly "the best part,'' because although conjugal fecundity is good, and virginal chastity better, more excellent than either is virginal fecundity, or os should I call it fecund virginity ? This is Mary's grand | prerogative: it shall not be given to any other, because it "' shall not be taken away from her."' It isan unique privilege and at the same time ineffable, so that to _ speak about it in a worthy manner is as impossible as 7a to attain to it. But what shall we say of her when we

: remember Whose Mother she is? What tongue, I ask, whether angelic or human, can worthily eulogise this

Virgin Mother, the Mother not of a mere man but of true God?

We have here, my brethren, a double wonder, a double prerogative, a double miracle.

Yet

co r is - .

= cys Sie wo things combine in a glorious and most perfect Virgin have been worthy of God.

Yet, my brethren, if you examine diligently, you will find that not alone this union of virginity with _ motherhood, but likewise all the various virtues which appear to be common to many are really singular in Mary.

Thus, for example, what purity can be any_ where found, even amongst the holy angels, compar_ able to the purity of her who was deemed worthy to be made the living sanctuary of the Holy Spirit and the dwelling of the Son of God?

If we estimate the value of things from their rarity, she undoubtedly must be ranked over all who was the first amongst mortals to conceive the design of emulating upon earth the life of the angels.

" How shall this be done," she asked the angel, '' because I know not man? " (Luke i. 34).

You see, my brethren, so firm was her purpose to live always as a virgin that it could not be shaken even by the words of the heavenly envoy promising her a son.

' How shall this be done?"

It cannot be in the ordinary way "' because I know not man," and neither the desire of a son nor the hope of posterity shall ever induce me to abandon my resolution of remaining always a virgin.

And oh! how sublime and how precious in her was the virtue of humility, united with such transcendent purity, with such spotless innocence, with such a sinless conscience, with such a fulness of grace! Whence,

O most blessed One, whence hast thou humility, and humility so great ? This is the humility that deserved to be regarded by the Lord (Luke i, 48), it is the beauty

font to earth from His eternal home in the bosom « é the Father (John i. 18).

Notice how completely 'in oe accord is the Canticle of our Virgin with the nuptial song of the Old Testament, which in truth is not surprising, since Mary's womb is the Bridegroom's — marriage-bed.

'He hath regarded the humility of His handmaid," so sings the Virgin in her Magnificat

(Luke, ibid.) ; and hear what she says in the epithalamium, '' While the King was at His repose, my spikenard sent forth the odour thereof' (Cant. i. 11).

Spikenard, as you know, is a lowly herb with purgative properties.

Hence we may conclude that by the name spikenard is designated humility, through the odour and beauty of which Mary "hath found grace with God" (Luke i. 30).

Let him, O most blessed Virgin, let him refuse to extol thy mercy, who—if there be any—remembers to have invoked thy assistance and to have found thee wanting to him in his hour of need.

As for us, thy a poor servants, we congratulate thee on thine other virtues, but on this we rather congratulate ourselves.

We praise thy virginity, we admire thy humility, but, because we are so miserable, more consoling to us than either is thy mercy : we love thy mercy more tenderly, we recall it more frequently, we more often invoke it.

And the reason is, because it is to thy mercy we owe the restoration of the whole world and the salvation of all.

For it is manifest'that thou wast solicitous for the salvation of the entire human race when it was said to thee, '' Fear not, Mary, for thou hast found grace with God," the grace, that is, which thou wast

~ 'Who, then, shall be abl is the breadth and length and height and depth"

Its length stretches forward even as far as the day of doom to succour all that invoke it.

Its breadth is as oad as the universe, so that of thee too it can be id, 'the whole earth is full of thy mercy"

(Ps.

_ -Xxxii. 5).

Its height reaches up to the city of God the ruins whereof it has been the means of repairing.

And its depth goes down to them that " sit in darkness and in the shadow of death" (Ps. cvi. 10) for whom it has obtained redemption.

For it is through _ thee, O Mary, that heaven has been filled, that hell _ has been emptied, that the breaches in the wall of the spiritual Jerusalem have been repaired (Ps. 1. 20), and that the life they had lost has been restored to miserable, expectant mortals.

Thus has thy all-powerful and most tender charity abounded not alone in sentiments of compassion but also in deeds of mercy, equally rich in both.

Therefore, my dearest brethren, let us run with thirsting souls to this fountain of mercy, let our misery have recourse with all the eagerness of desire to this treasury of compassion.

Behold, O most blessed One, such are the affections with which we have striven to accompany thee to-day on thy heavenward path to reunion with thy Son. Henceforth, I beseech thee, let it be the concern of thy loving-kindness to make known to the whole world the grace thou hast found with God, by obtaining through thy holy prayers pardon for the guilty, health for the sick, courage for the pusillanimous, consolation for the afflicted, help and deliverance for all in danger.

On this day also, this

> z .

VA : #

i - +.

; ya.

SERMON FOR THE SUNDAY WITHIN THE

«OCTAVE OF THE ASSUMPTION

bine te

ON THE DIGNITY OF MARY AND ON THE MYSTICAL

STARS THAT CONSTITUTE HER CROWN

* "And a great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars ''—Apoc. xii. 1.

It is true, most dearly beloved, that the first man and the first woman did us grievous harm, but— thanks be to God !—by another Man and another Woman all

____ that was lost has been restored to us, not without the addition of abundant grace.

For " not as the offence, so also the gift'? (Rom. v. 15): the magnitude of the grace won for us by Christ exceeds beyond all proportion the ruin wrought by Adam.

Instead of breaking that which was injured (Matt. xxii. 20), the Almighty Creator in His infinite wisdom and goodness restored it to its original perfection, yea, made it better than it had been before, forming a new Adam from the ancient and giving us in Mary a second Eve.

Christ alone would no doubt have been sufficient, for even now "all our sufficiency is from Him" (2-Cor.aii. 5); but it was not good for us that the Man should be alone (Gen. ii. 18). It seemed more congruous that as both sexes contributed to the ruin of our race, so should both have a part in the work of reparation.

A truly faithful and powerful '"' Mediator of God and men is the Man Christ Jesus" (x Tim. ii. 5); but the Majesty of His Godhead inspires mortals with fear. His Manhood

seems to be Syelowed up in a His Diane not that is any real confusion of the Natures, but. because human affections are in a manner deified.

He is th a ; EDRs to Whom we have to sing not mercy alone, but | "os "mercy and judgment" (Ps. c. 1): because although —

"He learned cone sen by the things which H suffered' (Heb. v. 8) "that He might become me ciful"' (Heb. ii. 17), He has also to exercise the judicial office (John v. 22). It is written, moreover, that "' the Lord our God is a consuming fire" (Deut. iv. 24). —

Not without cause, therefore, does the sinner fear to © approach Him lest, ''as wax melteth before the fire, — so should the wicked perish before the face of God" —

(Ps. xvii. 3). a From this, therefore, it ought to appear evident that the Woman pronounced " blessed among women "'

(Luke i. 28) is not without her proper function: for her also is found something to do in the work of reconciliation.

So great a Mediator is Christ that we have need of another to mediate between Him and us, and for this we can find none so well qualified as Mary.

= A most cruel mediatrix was our mother Eve, through whom the " old serpent' (Apoc. xii. 9) communicated the mortal poison of sin even to the man; but Mary is faithful, Mary offers the remedy of salvation both to men and women.

The former became the means of our seduction, the latter co-operated in our reconciliation; the former was made the instrument of temptation, the latter the channel of redemption.

Why should human fragility fear to have recourse to Mary?

In her is found nothing austere, nothing to terrify : everything about her is full of sweetness.

She has for all only the sweetness of milk and the softness

a But if, as must really be the fact, you find every- 'thing that belongs to her full of goodness and grace, re- -dolent of mercy and meekness: oh, then return thanks o Him Who, in His compassionate loving-kindness, has given us such a mediatrix as we cannot possibly dis_ trust.

For she has " become all things to all men"'

_ (zr Cor. ix. 22), she has made herself '"' a debtor to the wise and to the unwise " (Rom. i. 14).

To all she : opens wide the bosom of her mercy so that all may = receive of her fulness (John i. 16) : captives deliverance, the sick health, the sad consolation, sinners pardon, the just grace, the angels joy, the whole Blessed Trinity glory, and the Person of the Son the Substance of His

Human Nature: so that "there is no one that can hide himself from the heat" of her charity (Ps. xviii. 7).

Does it not seem to you, my dearest brethren, that she can be considered as the '' woman clothed with the sun" of whom the Beloved Disciple speaks in the Apocalypse?

I allow that what follows in the prophetic vision obliges us to understand it of the Church

Militant.

Nevertheless, as it appears to me, we can also and not unnaturally understand it of Mary.

For she in truth may be said to have clothed herself with a second sun.

I mean to say: just as the material, visible sun "' riseth upon the good and the bad " (Matt. v. 45) without making any distinction, so does Mary show herself full of kindness and sweetness to all and embraces the necessities of all in the limitless extent

4 aaa ae or sce She is altel Gone eet kind of defect ; she beyond all other creatures has rise over and transcended by a most admirable mode of elevation whatever is perishable or corruptible, so that she may be truly said to have the moon—the symbol of change and instability—under her feet. With regard to the material moon, you would not consider me to — have said anything very wonderful if I told you that — that was under the feet of her who, as we are obliged _ to believe, has been exalted above all the angelic — choirs, above even the Cherubim and the Seraphim.

The moon, however, is wont to be taken as the type _ not alone of the defect of corruption but also of human folly, and is moreover employed not infrequently to designate the Church on earth: for in its mutability it bears a resemblance to folly and corruption, and to the Church Militant in that it shines with borrowed splendour.

Now both these metaphorical moons—if I may be allowed so to speak—are rightly placed under the feet of Mary, but in different ways.

' The fool e changeth like the moon," asit is written—whilst 'the wise man continueth as the sun"' (Ecclus. xxvii. 12).

For the sun possesses steadfast heat and light, whereas the moon can boast of light alone, and a light that is extremely inconstant and variable, that " never continueth in the same state"' (Job xiv. 2). Not without reason, therefore, is Mary represented as clothed with the sun, since she has penetrated the unfathomable abyss of divine wisdom to a degree that is almost incredible; so that we can say of her that she is immersed in that ocean of inaccessible light as utterly as is possible to any created nature not deified by

BSE : on. She is plunged, I say, in that heav wherewith the Prophet's lips were purified (

Is. = vi. 6, 7), and wherewith the Seraphim are inflamed.* Ir Mary has merited far more than the prophets or e Seraphim. To her it is due not merely to be lightly ouched with that fire, but to be completely surrounded with it, to be utterly enveloped and absorbed in it.

Most intense, undoubtedly, is the light and heat of Py ee this Woman's clothing, in whom everything is so beautifully bright and warm that it would be impious

_ to suspect her of containing anything, I do not say =. darksome, but even obscure or otherwise than perfectly luminous; anything, I do not say tepid, but otherwise than most exceedingly ardent.

'The moon of folly, therefore, is so entirely under her _ feet that she has nothing in common with senseless women and belongs not to the number of foolish virgins.

Yea, more: even that first of fools and prince over the whole empire of folly, who, having indeed '' changed as the moon," "lost his wisdom in his beauty' (Ezech.

_ xxviii. 17), even he has been trampled and crushed under Mary's heel (Gen. iii. 15), and suffers now a most miserable servitude.

For Mary is the Woman, promised of old by God, who should crush the serpent's head with the foot of her virtue, and for whose heel he has lain in wait with many wiles, but all to no purpose (ibid.).

It is through Mary alone that every impious heresy has been vanquished.t One heresiarch maintained that Christ, although brought forth by her,

* The Hebrew word " seraph '' means to " burn," so that _ these highest of heavenly spirits owe their name to the burning ardour of their love.—(Translator.) t Cf. Newman's Discourses to Mixed Congregations, pages 367 et sqq.

py cere ata oe een er Sat Nos ete oe, oes =o a?

OCTAVE OF THE ASSUMPTION

was not formed from her flesh; another insisted with serpentine voice (sibilabat) that she did not bring forth the Divine Child at all, but only found Him; a third put forward the blasphemous doctrine that she ceased

— to be a virgin, at least after the Saviour's birth ; whilst a fourth, unable to endure that she should be called the Mother of God, impiously sought to deprive her of that crowning title.

But the serpents lying in wait have been crushed, the would-be supplanters have been trodden under foot, the slanderers of Mary have been put to confusion and, behold, all generations now call her blessed (Luke i. 48)..

Even at the beginning and long before the time of these heretics, the dragon, in the person of King Herod, had lain in wait for the Mother whilst she was about to be delivered, in order to seize and devour her Son (Apoc. xii. 4), because there have always been enmities between the Woman's

Seed and the seed of the dragon.

But, my brethren, if you prefer to understand the Church as designated by the name of the moon, because, like the moon, it shines with a borrowed splendour, borrowed from Him Who has said, "' Without Me you can do nothing" (John xv. 5): you have clearly indicated to you the mediatrix of whom I have just been speaking.

''A great sign appeared in heaven," says the Evangelist, ''a woman clothed with the sun and the moon under her feet.''

O my dearest brethren, let us embrace the feet of Mary, let us prostrate ourselves at those blessed feet in devout supplication.

Let us take hold of her and not let her go until she blesses us (Gen. xxxii. 26), for she surely has the power. What else is the symbolic fleece placed between the dew and the floor (Judges vi. 37), and the Woman standing

con ween the sun and the moon, but Mary mediating — een Christ and the Church?

I suppose the fleece enched with the dew does not surprise you so much | as the Woman clothed with the sun.

For certainly this latter image implies a very intimate relation and a very close proximity of the Woman to the sun. How indeed can a nature so delicate subsist in the midst of such a consuming fire?

No wonder, O holy Moses, no _ wonder thou art astonished and desirest to examine _ this miracle more closely.

Nevertheless, " put off the shoes from thy feet"? (Exod. iii. 5); lay aside the _ encumbrance of thy carnal thoughts, if thou wishest to approach.

"I will go," he said, "' and see this great = sight"' (ibid. 3).

A great sight indeed was that—a _bush burning without being consumed ; a great wonder also—a Woman clothed with the sun yet suffering no harm.

It is not in accordance with the nature of a bush to be entirely surrounded with flames and remain unburnt ; nor is it possible for a woman of her own natural strength to endure to be clothed with the sun.

No, this is not the province of human virtue or even of angelic : something greater is required.

" The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee," said the Archangel, speaking to the Virgin (Luke i. 35). And lest she should reply that " God is a Spirit" (John iv. 24) and "' the Lord our God a consuming fire " (Deut. iv. 24), he went on to reassure her: "' The power—not my power, nor thy power—but the power of the Most High shall overshadow thee." No wonder, then, if under the shelter of such a divine shadow even a woman can endure to be clothed with the sun.

" A great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun." Yes, in the words of the Psalmist, she

=A fees Mea was = 'clothed with light as with a garment :

_ cili, 2).

Perhaps "the sensual man understanc seems: foolishness 'to him "(x Corsi. 14)" Bur so did it seem to the Apostle who recommended his followers to "put on the Lord Jesus Christ' (Rom. xill, 14). O Lady, how intimate is thy relation with — the Sovereign Lord of all!

How near, how closely _ united to Him thou hast merited to be! What afulness of grace thou hast found with Him!

He abideth in thee and thou in Him; thou clothest Him and art in ~ turn clothed by Him.

Thou clothest Him with the — substance of thy virginal flesh and He clothes thee in — return with the glory of His majesty.

Thou clothest — the Sun with a cloud and art clothed by the Sun with His splendour.

"' For the Lord hath created a new thing upon the earth": that '"'a woman should compass a man" (Jer. xxxi. 22), and no otherman but Christ, of Whom it is said, '' Behold a Man, the Orient is His name' (Zach. vi. 12).

A new thing hath the Lord created in heaven also: that a woman should appear clothed with the sun. The Mother has crowned the Son and has deserved to be crowned by Him in turn.

"' Go forth, ye daughters of Sion," says the Holy Spirit in the Canticle, ''and see King Solomon in the diadem wherewith His Mother hath crowned Him" * (Cant.

"a iii. rr).

But another time for this.

Go forth now to : see the Queen in the diadem wherewith her Son hath

crowned her.

* The Saint elsewhere proposes two explanations of this text:

(1) the Mother is Mary and she has crowned her Son, the true Peace-Maker, with the diadem of His Sacred Humanity ;

(2) the Mother is the Synagogue and she has crowned her Son, the Messiah, with a crown of thorns —(Translator).

d on her he rown of twelve stars." Most | hy of being crowned with a diadem of stars is

_ that august head which, surpassing in splendour all — = the stars of the firmament, is more an ornament to ~ __ them than they are to it. And what wonder that she

- who is clothed with the sun should be crowned with < the stars?

She is encompassed "' as with the flowers of roses in the days of the spring" (Ecclus. 1. 8) and as with the lilies of the valleys. For the Bridegroom's

6c "'Ieft hand is under her head and with His right He embraces her " (Cant. ii. 6). Who can appraise the _ jewels that adorn Mary's crown?

Who can name the _ Stars that compose her queenly diadem? My brethren, it is beyond the power of any man to say what is the nature of this crown and rightly to explain its constitution.

Far be it from me, therefore, with my very limited capacity, to be so rashly presumptuous as to endeavour to pry into this divine secret.

Nevertheless, I think we may, without any impropriety, understand those twelve stars wherewith Mary is singularly adorned as designating twelve grand prerogatives of grace.

For we can discover in Mary three kinds of prerogatives, which I will call the prerogatives of heaven, the preTogatives of the flesh, and the prerogatives of the heart. And if now these three constellations be multiplied by four as containing each four Stars, we shall have perhaps the twelve stars which make the diadem of our glorious Queen resplendent beyond all others.

Now, with regard to the first of our constellations, it seems to me I can discern the brightness of one beautiful star in Mary's generation, of another in the angelic salutation, of a third in the descent of the

-Ghos upon aa ace of a fous in her able conception of the Son of God. So, too, Bt second constellation four bright and beautiful si are plainly visible: her prerogative of being the fir of virgins, her virginal fecundity, her easy pregnancy, her painless child-birth.

And amongst what I have named the prerogatives of the heart—which constitute our third constellation—we behold shining with dazzling splendour her modest meekness, her devout humility, her magnanimous faith, her interior martyrdom. I will leave it to your own industry to examine each of these stars more particularly. For myself; I think Ishallhave done sufficient if I am able to point them out ina few words for your pious contemplation. ae:

What, then, is the star which adorns with its splenZ dour the generation of Mary?

Undoubtedly it is the nobility of her descent : for she is sprung from a line of © kings, from the seed of Abraham, from the illustrious stock of David.

Perhaps this will seem but slight honour.

Add to it therefore what is known to you all that she was given by God to her parents and ancestors as the reward of their singular sanctity, that she was promised to the Patriarchs long ages before, that she was foreshadowed in mystical wonders, and heralded from afar in prophetic oracles.

For she it 1s who was prefigured by the rod of Aaron what time it blossomed without roots in the earth (Num. xvii. 8) ; she it is who was typified by Gedeon's fleece, which was found saturated with dew in the midst of the dry thrashing-floor (Judges vi. 37, 38); she it is whom the Eastern Gate of Ezechiel's prophetic vision was intended to designate, the gate that was to be opened to no man " because the Lord God of Israel hath

red in by it" (Ezech. xliv. 2); sh Jesse "

(Is. xi. xz), at another more clearly as the _ Virgin that should bear a Son (Is. vii. 14).

Justly, therefore, is it said with reference to this prodigy of _ the Woman clothed with the sun that "a great sign appeared in heaven " (Apoc. xii. 1), since, as you know, it was promised from heaven long ages before it was seen upon earth. "The Lord Himself shall give you a : sign,' said the Prophet, '' Behold a Virgin shall conceive and bear a Son" (Is. vii. 14). Great in truth is the sign He has given us because He Who has given it is Himself so great.

What created eye can contemplate the glory of this unique prerogative without being dazzled and blinded with the excess of its splendour?

The very fact that she was saluted with so much reverence and humility by the Archangel that he seemed to have beheld her already on her royal throne, exalted above all the shining ranks of the heavenly host, and to have all but worshipped this daughter of Adam—he who had been accustomed hitherto to receive the willingly-accorded worship of men: this very fact, I say, is sufficient to show us how surpassing is the merit of our own glorious Virgin and how singular her grace, Bright too is the glory of her unparalleled motherhood.

For not in iniquity did Mary conceive her Son —in this unlike all other mothers (Ps. 1. 7) : she alone amongst women conceived through the operation of grace and by the power of the Holy Spirit.

And He Whom she brought forth is true God and the true Son of God, so that the Child Who was born of the Virgin

OCTAVE OF THE ASSUMPTION

pak is at the same time the Son of God and the Son of man, at the same time true God and true Man: here, my brethren, you have a very abyss of light, the dazzling refulgence of which I can hardly believe it possible for even the angelic eye to endure. Besides, that which rendered particularly illustrious both the integrity of her flesh and her vow of virginity was the very novelty of her holy purpose: because, namely, in liberty of spirit going beyond all the prescriptions of the Mosaic

Law, she consecrated her virginity to God by vow, that she might be spotlessly "holy in body and in spirit' (1 Cor. vii. 34). And she proved the immovable firmness of her resolve by the constancy of will implied in her answer to the Angel's promise of a son:

"' How shall this be done because I know not man?" (Luke 1. 34). Likely enough, the reason why she was at first troubled at the greeting of Gabriel '' and thought within herself what manner of salutation this might be"' (ibid. 29) was the fact that he pronounced her

"blessed among women," whereas it had ever been her wish to be blessed among virgins.

Consequently, on hearing from the Angel the words, '' Blessed art thou among women," she "' thought within herself what manner of salutation this might be,' for it seemed to her to have a suspicious sound.

But the moment the danger to her virginity appeared manifest in the promise of a son, she could no longer conceal her alarm and said, '' How shall this be done, because I know not man?"

Deservedly therefore, did she obtain the one blessing without forfeiting the other, so that her virginity derived a great increase of glory from her fruitfulness and her fruitfulness in like manner was enhanced by her virginity: as two stars that seem to

T1g. eI ag gin ; but to virgin and a mother at once—that is something Deservedly also was she alone spared that trial of xtreme lassitude from which all other mothers suffer during the period of gestation, because she alone conceived without any experience of carnal delight. Hence, at the very beginning of her pregnancy, when other

- women are most grievously afflicted, we find Mary ascending the mountains with all alacrity in order to minister to her cousin Elizabeth (Luke i. 39).

We read egain how she went up from Galilee to Bethlehem _ on the very eve of her child-birth, bearing that most precious Deposit, bearing that most light Burden, __ bearing Him by Whom she was herself borne.

And _ with regard to her child-birth, how brilliant a star is _ that which shines out in the unparalleled exultation

_ wherewith she brought forth her unparalleled Offspring, exempted alone amongst women from the common curse and pain that belong to parturition!

If we are to estimate the value of things from their rarity, these prerogatives must be held in highest esteem, since surely nothing more rare can be found. For truly with respect to them all Mary Had no precursor in the years before And peerless shall remain for evermore — SEDULIUs.

And for ourselves, dearest brethren, if we contemplate by the light of faith these glorious privileges of the Virgin Mother, they will be sure to arouse in us sentiments of admiration, veneration, and devotion, yea, and will impart to us no little consolation.

But the wonders whereof it remains to speak have to

OCTAVE OF THE ASSUMPTION

be imitated as well as admired.

As concerns the preceding, it was not given to any of us to be promised by God or announced from heaven long before our birth "at sundry times and in divers manners"

(Heb. i. 1), nor to receive from the mouth of the Archangel Gabriel the honour of so unusual a salutation: much less can we pretend to a participation in the two others, with regard to which the Virgin seems to say like the Prophet, " My secret to myself, my secret to myself" (Is. xxiv. 16).

For she is the only one of whom it has ever been said, '' That Which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost' (Matt. i. 20) ; she is the only one to whom it has ever been said,

"The Holy Which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God"' (Luke i. 35). By all means, let other

"virgins be brought to the King,'' but let it be " after her'' (Ps. xliv. 15) ; for she claims the first place for herself alone.

Much more is she solitary in her privilege of conceiving without corruption, of bearing without weariness, and of bringing forth without pain.

Consequently, my brethren, nothing of these things is required of us.

But there are certain other things which are required.

For should any of us be found wanting in the meekness of modesty, or in humility of heart, or in greatness and constancy of faith, or in compassion of soul: think you we shall be able to justify our negligence by pleading that these gifts like the others are singular in Mary?

No, my brethren, most assuredly we shall not.

Undoubtedly, the blush on the face of a modest man is a most lovely jewel in his diadem, a most beautiful star on his brow.* * Cf. the Saint's beautiful Sermon on Modesty, the last of the series on the Canticle of Canticles.

: — ie was modest in the Bivins at s can be proved from the Gospel.

For where oes she ever appear garrulous?

Where do we ever nd her in the least degree presumptuous?

She was content to stand outside the door, seeking a word _ with her Son, when in virtue of her authority as His

Mother she might have unceremoniously entered the _ house where Jesus was preaching and interrupted the sermon (Matt. xii. 46).

In the whole text of the four Gospels — unless my memory plays me false—Mary can be heard speaking not oftener than four times.

The first occasion is where she answered the Angel, but only after she had been addressed by him once and again. The second is where she spoke to Elizabeth, in whose womb the voice of her salutation had made the unborn Baptist to leap for joy, and whilst the mother of John was magnifying Mary, Mary's sole solicitude was to magnify the Lord (Luke i. 40-46).

The third is where she complained to her Son, when He was now twelve years of age, that she and His father had been seeking Him sorrowing (Luke ii. 48).

The fourth is where she spoke to Jesus and the waiters at the wedding-feast (John ii. 3-5).

Her words on this last occasion gave signal proof of her natural meekness and virginal modesty.

For esteeming as her own the embarrassment of her neighbour, she could not rest easy, neither could she forbear speaking to her Son of the failure of the wine.

And on being apparently reproved by Him, she showed how '' meek and humble of heart" (Matt. xi. 29) she was by answering never a word, yet without losing confidence, since she said to

(John i ii. a .

Have you not read how in the beginning, when shepherds came to Bethlehem, Mary was the fi meet them?

'They came with haste," says Evangelist, "' and they found Mary and Joseph, an Be the Infant lying in the manger" (Luke ii. 16). § also with the Magi, as you will remember : they fia the Child, but not without His Mother (Matt. ii. rz

And when Mary was bringing the Lord of the temp % into the temple of the Lord, she heard much concerning Him from holy Simeon, much also that concerned — herself, being "'swift to hear but slow to speak"

(James i. 19) ; and we are told that she " kept all these © words, pondering them in her heart" (Luke ii. 19).

© But on none of these occasions was she heard to utter a single syllable about the glorious mystery of the Lord's incarnation.

Woe unto us " whose soul is in our nostrils" (Is. ii. 22)!

Woe unto us who imitate the fool that " uttereth all his mind"' (Prov. xxix, 11) !

Woe unto us Whose words flow out as unrestrained :

As water through a sieve.* : 4

How often Mary heard her Son not only speaking to the multitude in parables (Matt. xiii. 34), but revealing to His disciples apart the mysteries of the : kingdom of God!

She saw Him working miracles, she = saw Him hanging on the cross, she saw Him expiring in torments, she saw Him rising from the tomb, she saw Him lastly mounting up to heaven.

But how seldom in the records of all these wonders do we find * " Dleni rimarum effluimus undique'"'

(Terence, Eunocho, eee 25),

Virgin, = Se a Sone in the Acts of A Apostles h oe after retary a . the Mount of es "all were persevering with mind in prayer."" Who? Surely if Mary happened be present she must be mentioned first, for she is over all other creatures, both on account of her Son's

'Divine dignity and by reason of the merit of her personal holiness.

Yet what do we find?

'" Peter and John, James and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bar_ tholomew and Matthew, James of Alpheus and Simon

= Zelotes, and Jude, the brother of James: all these were __persevering with one mind in prayer with the women and Mary the Mother of Jesus" (Acts i. 13, 14). You see, my brethren, how she made herself the last even

_ of the women, so that she might occupy the last place of all. The apostles were indeed still carnally-minded—

"for as yet the Spirit was not given to them because Jesus was not yet glorified'?

(John vii. 39)—when "there arose a strife amongst them as to which of them should seem to be greater"

(Luke xxii. 24), whilst Mary, in proportion as she surpassed all, humbled herself in all things, yea and regarded herself as the least of all. Rightly, therefore, was she from last made first who, whereas she was the greatest of all, had made herself the least of all (Matt. xx. 16). Rightly was she made mistress of all who conducted herself as the handmaid of all.

And rightly was she exalted above the angels, who in her unutterable modesty and meekness had placed herself below widows and penitents, even below her from whom seven devils had been cast out (Luke viii. 2).

O my dearest children, have zeal, I beg of you, have zeal for this virtue of meck- \

VL a a-5 as i ee ta to imitate her mee ffor there - 'is nothing more becoming a man, nothing more for a Christian, above all, nothing more befit ~ monk.

Now with regard to the Virgin' s humility, that virt é shines forth clearly enough from her meekness.

Th two virtues of humility and meekness are foster-siste = suckled at the same breast, nay, they have been united — yet more intimately in Him Who said, '' Learn of because I am meek and humble of heart' (Matt. xi. 29).

_ And just as pride is the mother of presumption, so it — is only from sincere humility that true meekness can come.

It is not, however, in her silence alone that — Mary's humility is manifest : it appears more evidently still in her words.

She heard the announcement, " The Holy Which shall be born of thee shall be called the — Son of God," and her only answer was: " Behold the handmaid of the Lord"' (Luke ii. 38)!

She then set. out on a journey to visit her cousin Elizabeth, to whom the Virgin's incomparable glory was revealed by the ~ Holy Spirit Himself ; so that, over-awed by the dignity

— of Mary, she cried out, '' Whence is this to me that the Mother of my Lord should come to me ?" (ibid. 43).

She also acknowledged the power of grace in the voice that saluted her, by adding, '' As soon as the voice of thy salutation sounded in my ears, the infant in my womb leaped for joy" (ibid. 44). And she commended the faith of Mary when she said, "' Blessed art thou that hast believed, because those things shall be accomplished that were spoken to thee by the Lord"

(ibid. 45).

Magnificent eulogiums indeed!

But the Virgin's devout humility would allow her to keep

'aia to her cousin, "' but ' my soul doth magnify the ord.' Thou sayest that at the sound of my voice the infant in thy womb leaped for joy, but 'my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour' (ibid. 46, 47). Yea and if thy unborn infant, as ' the friend of the Bridegroom, rejoiceth with joy,' it is ' because of the Bride- - groom's voice' (John iii. 29).

Thou pronouncest me blessed for having believed, but the one cause both of my belief and of my blessedness is the regard of the _ Sovereign Goodness, so that if 'from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed' it is only ' because

He hath regarded the humility of His handmaid'

(Luke i. 48)."

But, brethren, are we to suppose that St. Elizabeth erred in what she uttered under the inspiration of the Spirit of God?

Heaven forbid!

Blessed assuredly was she whom the Lord had regard to and blessed also she that believed.

In fact, we can say that Mary's heroic faith was the noble fruit of the divine regard.

For by an unutterable artifice—if the expression may be allowed — of the Holy Spirit Who came down upon her, such magnanimity of faith was united in the secret chamber of the Virgin's heart to such profound humility that—as I have said of the union of integrity with motherhood — these two stars also received additional brightness from each other's rays.

That is to say: her abysmal humility did not diminish the magnanimity of her faith, nor did the latter prejudice the former ; but whilst remaining the humblest of all in her conceit of herself, she showed herself most magnanimous by

th in divine promise :

| herself nothing better than a poor little handmaid believed, nevertheless, with the most undoubting faith is that she was chosen by the Lord for the accomp ment of His incomprehensible design of becoming man chosen for that most '' admirable intercourse,''* chose: to co-operate in that unsearchable mystery ; and s was firmly persuaded that she would soon be verily and indeed the Mother of the God-Man.

It is the prerogative of divine grace to be able to work this double miracle in the hearts of the elect : that humility shall not make them pusillanimous, nor magnanimity render them proud, but rather that these two virtues shall assist and enhance one another.

Thus it comes about that not only no self-elation results from mag-_ nanimity but, contrariwise, humility is thereby best promoted, for men are found to be distrustful of self and grateful to their Divine Benefactor in proportion as they are magnanimous ; on the other hand, likewise,

_ the virtue of humility does not make a man fainthearted, but on the contrary, the less one is wont to presume on his own powers, even in the smallest things, the greater shall be his reliance on the help of God in matters more important.

The ¢ martyrdom of Mary— which, if you remember, a I have enumerated in the twelfth and last place ap = amongst the stars of her diadem—we find recorded for us both in the prophecy of Simeon and in the story

* Words taken from the first antiphon for Vespers of the Feast of Circumcision.

+ This and the following paragraph are used for the lessons of the second nocturn on the Feast of the Seven Dolours, kept in the Cistercian Order on the Friday before Palm Sunday —

(Translator ).

Sa soe passion. r old — 2, ee Seas in rome Be =, "Behold," said the hol oo.

Tea oly old — ete | an, speaking of the Infant Jesus, '

Child is — set for a sign which shall be contradicted, and thine — cS oe own soul," he added, addressing the Mother, '' a sword

SS shall pierce" (Luke ii. 34, 35). Truly, O blessed Mother, truly did the iron pierce thy soul (Ps. civ. 18), for it could not otherwise pierce the Flesh of thy Son. After the death of thy Jesus—thy Jesus, I say, because although

~ common to all of us He is in an especial manner thine _—His Soul could not be wounded by the cruel lance that opened His side—not sparing Him even in death

_ Whom it was no longer capable of hurting—but thy soul, O Mary, it could and did transpierce.

For His Soul no longer occupied His now lifeless Heart, whence thy soul could by no means be withdrawn.

Consequently thy soul was transfixed with the violence of sorrow, so that thou art justly proclaimed to be more than a martyr, since the sufferings thou didst endure from the force of thy compassion far exceeded all the pains that could have been inflicted on thy flesh.

" Woman, behold thy son" (John xix. 26).

Poor Mother! Were not these words to thee as the sharpest of swords, piercing thy soul '" and reaching unto the division of the soul and the spirit"? (Heb. iv. EShe

Oh, what an exchange!

John is given thee in place of Jesus, the servant in place of the Lord, the disciple for the Master, the son of Zebedee instead of the Son of God, a mere man instead of Him Who is true and very God!

Oh, how the sound of those words must have pierced through thy most affectionate heart, since even the very remembrance of them is enough to break these stony, these iron hearts of ours! Wonder

es t, dearest oer That May? is said suffered martyrdom in her soul.

He alone o be surprised at this whosoever does not reme to have heard St. Paul mentioning amongst the crimes of the Gentiles that they were "' wi affection'' (Rom. i. 31).

Far removed from suc vice was the heart of Mary, and far removed from also be the hearts of us, her poor servants. But per chance some one will say to me, "' Did not Mary kno beforehand that her Son was doomed to die"

Undoubtedly.

"Did she not hope that He woul speedily arise again from the tomb"?

Most firmly ''And nevertheless, in spite of this foreknowledge and this expectation did she sorrow over her crucified Son"?

Yea, and with a sorrow exceeding great.

Let me ask thee, who art thou, my brother, and whence ~ hast thou derived this wisdom that thou shouldst — marvel more at Mary's compassion than at the passion _ of her Son?

Dost thou grant that He could die even the death of the body, and yet deny her the power of participating in His death by the affections of her heart ? The Son's death of pain was caused by love greater than which no man hath (John xv. 13), and ~ ea the Mother's death of sympathy was caused by love

_ the like of which was never felt before in the heart of = a pure creature.

2 E O Mother of mercy, the Moon, that is, the Church

on earth, prostrate at thy sacred feet, implores of thee, z her appointed Advocate with the Divine Sun of Justice, implores of thee with devout supplication and by all the affections of thy most pure heart, that thou wouldst obtain for her the grace "in thy light to see the light"? (Ps. xxxv.

10), that thou wouldst conciliate

hea = feviie with delights; leaning upon y Beloved" (Cant. viii. 5). Feed us to-day, O great id Bed us, thy poor mendicants, with the food of = let "cthe whelps also eat of the crumbs

; give not — destined for the Son of the Most High, Jesus Christ al our Lord, Who is over all things, God blessed for ever.

This selection comprises:

Seven sermons for Advent; six sermons for Christmas Eve; five sermons for Christmas Day; and St. Bernard's Hymn to the Name of Jesus.

The edition and translation are uniform with the present Sermons on the Blessed Virgin Mary.

176 pages

This edition of St. Bernard's sermons on the Blessed Bossuet says of St. Bernard: "He had a special devotion to the Blessed Virgin, and there is no one who speaks more sublimely of the Queen of Heaven."'

His sermons are remarkable for their energy of style, sublimity of thought and tenderness-of devotion. Justus

Lipsius considered that as a model of sacred oratory, he was without equal among the Latin Fathers.

There is little doubt that St, Bernard knew the whole Bible by heart. Not only are his quotations unerringly apt, but he draws out unsuspected mystical meanings from the most familiar verses. The saint's own secretary and biographer, Geoffrey, said of him that "the quoted

Scripture with such ease and relevancy that he seemed rather to precede than to follow it.''

ISBN 0 85172 736 0

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