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Let us now consider the supreme benefit of divine
love, the redemption of man. But I feel myself so
unworthy, so unfitted to speak of such a mystery that
I know not where to begin or where to leave off, or
whether it were not better for me to be silent
altogether. Did not man, in his lethargy, need an
incentive to virtue, better would it be to prostrate
ourselves in mute adoration before the
incomprehensible grandeur of this mystery than vainly
essay to explain it in imperfect human language. It
is said that a famous painter of antiquity, wishing
to represent the death of a king's daughter, painted
her friends and relatives about her with mournful
countenances. In her mother's face grief was still
more strongly depicted. But before the face of the
king he painted a dark veil to signify that his grief
was beyond the power of art to express. Now, if all that we have said so inadequately
expresses the single benefit of creation, how can we
with any justice represent the supreme benefit of
Redemption? By a single act of His will God created
the whole universe, diminishing thereby neither the
treasures of His riches nor the power of His almighty
arm. But to redeem the world He labored for
thirty-three years by the sweat of His brow; He shed
the last drop of His Blood, and suffered pain and
anguish in all His senses and all His members. What
mortal tongue can explain this ineffable mystery? Yet
it is equally impossible for me to speak or to be
silent. Silence seems ingratitude, and to speak seems
rashness. Wherefore, I prostrate myself at Thy feet,
O my God, beseeching Thee to supply for my
insufficiency, and if my feeble tongue detract from
Thy glory, while wishing to praise and magnify it,
grant that Thy elect in Heaven may render to Thy
mercy the worship which Thy creatures here below are
incapable of offering Thee. After God had created
man and placed him in the delights of the terrestrial
paradise, by the very favors which should have bound
him to the service of his Creator he was emboldened
to rebel against Him. For this he was driven into
exile and condemned to the eternal pains of Hell. He
had imitated the rebellion of Satan; therefore, it
was just that he should share his punishment. When
Giezi, the servant of Eliseus, received presents from
Naaman the leper, the prophet said to him: Since thou
hast received Naaman's money, "the leprosy of Naaman
shall also cleave to thee and to thy seed forever.
And he went out from him a leper as white as snow."
(4Kg. 5:27). God pronounced a like sentence against
man; Adam wished to share the riches of Lucifer, that
is, his pride and his revolt, and, in consequence,
the leprosy of Lucifer, that is, the punishment of
his revolt, became his portion also. By sin,
therefore, man becomes like Satan � he imitates him
in his guilt, and shares in his punishment. Having brought such misery upon himself, man became
the object of the divine compassion, for God was more
moved by the condition of His fallen creature than He
was indignant at the outrage offered to His goodness.
He resolved to restore man and reconcile him with
Himself through the mediation of His only Son. But
how was reconciliation effected? Again, what human
tongue can express this mercy? Through our Mediator
Christ such a friendship was established between God
and man that the Creator not only pardoned His
creature and restored him to His grace and love, but
even became one with him. Man has become so one with
God that in all creation there is no union that can
be compared to this. It is not only a union of grace
and love, but it is a union of person also. Who could
have thought that such a breach would be so perfectly
repaired? Who could have imagined that two beings so
widely separated by nature and sin should one day be
united, not only in the same house, at the same
table, and in a union of grace, but in one and the
same person [that is, in Christ]? Can we think of two beings more widely separated than
God and the sinner? Yet where will we find two beings
more closely united? "There is nothing," says St.
Bernard, "more elevated than God, and nothing more
base than the clay of which man is formed. Yet God
has with such great humility clothed Himself in this
clay, and the clay has been so honorably raised to
God, that we may ascribe to the clay all the actions
of God, and to God all the sufferings of the clay."
(Super Cant. Hom. 59 et 64). When man stood naked
and trembling before his Creator, who could have made
him believe that one day his unhappy nature would be
united to God in one and the same person? This union
was so close that even the supreme moment of the
cross could not sever it. Death dissolved the union
between soul and body, but could not separate the
divinity from the humanity, for what Christ had once
taken upon Himself for love of us He never abandoned.
Thus was our peace established. Thus did God apply to
us the remedy for our sovereign miseries. And we owe
Him more gratitude, perhaps, for the manner of
applying this remedy than for the remedy itself. Yes,
Lord, I am infinitely indebted to Thee for redeeming
me from Hell, for reestablishing me in Thy grace, and
fox restoring my liberty; but I should be still more
grateful, were it possible, for the manner in which
Thou hast wrought these wonders. All Thy works are
admirable, O Lord! And when lost in wonder at a power
that seems to have reached its limit, we have only to
raise our eyes to behold still another marvel which
eclipses all the rest. Nor is this any disparagement
of Thy power, O Lord, but rather a manifestation of
Thy glory! But what, O Lord, is the remedy Thou
didst choose for my deep misery? Innumerable were the
ways in which Thou couldst have redeemed me without
toil or suffering; but in Thy magnificence, and to
testify to Thy great love for me, Thou didst will to
endure such pain and sufferings that the very thought
of them bathed Thee in a sweat of blood, and at the
sight of them the rocks were rent asunder. May the
heavens praise Thee, O Lord, and may the angels
proclaim Thy mercies! What did our virtues avail
Thee, or how wast Thou harmed by our sins? "If thou
sin," says Eliu to Job, "what shalt thou hurt him!
And if thy iniquities be multiplied, what shalt thou
do against him? And if thou do justly, what shalt
thou give him, or what shall he receive of thy hand?"
(Job 35:6-7). This great God, so rich and
powerful, so free from all evils, whose wisdom and
possessions can neither be increased nor lessened,
who would be equally glorious in Himself whether men
and angels praised Him forever in Heaven, or
blasphemed Him forever in Hell; this great God,
impelled by no necessity, but yielding to His love,
came down from Heaven to this place of exile, clothed
Himself with our nature when we were His enemies,
took upon Himself our infirmities, and even death,
and to heal our wounds endured torments more terrible
than any that had ever before been borne, or that
ever again will be undergone. It was for me, O
Lord, that Thou wast born in a stable, laid in a
manger, and circumcised on the eighth day after Thy
birth! For me wast Thou driven from Thy country and
exiled to Egypt. For my sake Thou didst fast and
watch, shedding bitter tears, and sweating Blood from
every pore. For me Thou wast seized as a malefactor,
forsaken, sold, denied, betrayed, dragged from
tribunal to tribunal, buffeted, spat upon, bruised
with blows, and delivered to the gibes of an infamous
rabble. For me Thou didst die upon a cross, in the
sight of Thy most holy Mother, enduring poverty so
great that even the consolation of a drop of water
was denied to Thy burning lips. Thou wert abandoned
by the world, and so great was Thy desolation that
even Thy Father seemed to have forsaken Thee. At such
a cost, O God, didst Thou restore to me my life!
Can we, without the deepest grief, behold this
spectacle � God hanging as a malefactor upon an
infamous gibbet? We could not withhold our compassion
from a criminal who had brought such misfortune upon
himself; and if our compassion be greater when the
victim is innocent, and his excellence known to us,
what must have been the astonishment and grief of the
angels, with their knowledge of His perfection, when
they saw Him overwhelmed with ignominy and condemned
to die upon the cross? The two cherubim, placed by
God's command (Ex. 25:18) on each side of the ark,
looking toward the mercy-seat in wonder and
admiration, are an emblem of the awe with which the
heavenly spirits were seized at the sight of God's
supreme mercy in becoming the propitiation for the
world on the sacred wood of His cross. Who, then, can contain his astonishment or forbear to
exclaim with Moses: "O Lord God, merciful and
gracious, patient and of much compassion, and true!"
(Ex. 34:6). Who would not, like Elias (3Kg. 19:13),
cover his eyes did he see God passing, not in the
splendor of His majesty, but in the depths of His
humiliation; not in the might of His power, moving
mountains and rending rocks, but as a malefactor,
delivered to the cruelties of a brutal multitude?
While, then, we confess our inability to understand
this incomprehensible mystery, will we not open our
hearts to the sweet influence of such boundless love,
and make, as far as we are able, a corresponding
return? Oh! Abyss of charity! Oh! Boundless mercy!
Oh! Incomprehensible goodness! By Thy ignominy, O
Lord, Thou hast purchased honor for me. By Thy Blood
Thou hast washed away the stains of my sins. By Thy
death Thou hast given me life. By Thy tears Thou has
delivered me from eternal weeping. O best of Fathers!
How tenderly Thou loved Thy children. O good
Shepherd, who hast given Thyself as food to Thy
flock! O faithful Guardian, who didst lay down Thy
life for the creatures of Thy care! With what tears
can I return Thy tears? With what life can I repay
Thy life? What are the tears of a creature compared
to the tears of his Creator, or what is the life of a
man compared to that of his God? Think not, O man,
that thy debt is less because God suffered for all
men as well as for thee. Each of His creatures was as
present to His divine mind as if He died for him
alone. His charity was so great, the holy Doctors
tell us, that had but one man sinned He would have
suffered to redeem him. Consider, therefore, what
thou owest a Master who has done so much for thee and
who would have done still more had thy welfare
required it. Tell me, O ye creatures, whether a
greater benefit, a more generous favor, a more
binding obligation can be conceived. Tell me, O ye
celestial choirs, whether God has done for you what
He has done for us? Who, then, will refuse to give
himself without reserve to the service of such a
Master? "I thrice owe Thee all that I am, O my God!"
exclaims St. Anselm. "By my creation I owe Thee all
that I am. Thou hast confirmed this debt by redeeming
me; and by promising to be my eternal reward, Thou
dost compel me to give myself wholly to Thee. Why,
then, do I not give myself to One who has such a just
claim to my service? Oh! Insupportable ingratitude!
Oh! Invincible hardness of the human heart, which
will not be softened by such benefits! Metals yield
to fire; iron is made flexible in the forge; and
diamonds are softened by the blood of certain
animals. But oh! Heart more insensible than stone,
harder than iron, more adamant than the diamond, wilt
thou not be moved by the fire of Hell, or by the
benefits of the tenderest of Fathers, or by the Blood
of the spotless Lamb immolated for love of thee?"
Since Thy mercy and Thy love have been so powerfully
manifested for us, O Lord, how is it that there are
men who do not love Thee, who forget Thy benefits or
use them to offend Thee? To whom will they give their
love, if they refuse it to Thee? What can touch them,
if they are insensible to Thy benefits? Ah! How can I
refuse to serve a God who has so lovingly sought me
and redeemed me? "And I," says Our Saviour, "if I be
lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to
myself." (Jn. 12:32). With what strength, Lord, with
what chains? With the strength of My love, with the
chains of My benefits, "I will draw them," says the
Lord by His prophet, "with the cords of Adam, with
the bands of love." (Osee 11:4). Ah! Who will resist
these chains, who will refuse to yield to these
mercies? If, then, it be so great a crime not to love
this sovereign Lord, what must it be to offend Him,
to break His commandments? How can you use your hands
to offend Him whose hands are so full of benefits for
you, whose hands were nailed to the cross for you?
When the unhappy wife of the Egyptian minister sought
to lead Joseph into sin, the virtuous youth replied,
"Behold, my master hath delivered all things to me,
and knoweth not what he hath in his own house:
Neither is there anything which is not in my power,
or that he hath not delivered to me, but thee, who
art his wife: how then can I do this wicked thing,
and sin against my God?" (Gen. 39:8-9). Mark the
words of Joseph. He does not say: "I should not " or
"It is not just that I offend Him," but "How can I do
this wicked thing?" From this let us learn that great
favors should not only deprive us of the will, but,
in a measure, even of the power, to offend our
benefactor. If, therefore, the son of Jacob felt
such gratitude for perishable benefits, what should
be ours for the immortal blessings God has bestowed
upon us? Joseph's master entrusted him with all his
possessions. God has given us not only His
possessions but Himself. What is there on earth that
He has not made for us? Earth, sky, sun, moon, stars,
tides, birds, beasts, fishes � in short, all things
under Heaven are ours, and even the riches of Heaven
itself, the glory and happiness of eternity. "All
things are yours," says the Apostle, "whether it be
Paul, or Apollo, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or
death, or things present, or things to come; for all
are yours" (1Cor. 3:22), for all these contribute to
your salvation. And we not only possess the riches
of Heaven, but the Lord of Heaven. He has given
Himself to us in a thousand ways: as our Father, our
Teacher, our Saviour, our Master, our Physician, our
Example, our Food, our Reward. In brief, the Father
has given us the Son, and the Son has made us worthy
to receive the Holy Ghost, and the Holy Ghost has
united us to the Father and the Son, the Source of
every grace and blessing. Again, since God has
given you all the benefits you enjoy, how can you use
these benefits to outrage so magnificent a
Benefactor? If you are unmindful of the crime of your
ingratitude, you are more ungrateful than the savage
beasts, colder and more hardened than senseless
objects. St. Ambrose, after Pliny, relates the story
of a dog that had witnessed the murder of his master.
All night the faithful animal remained by the body,
howling most piteously, and on the following day,
when a concourse of people visited the scene, the dog
noticed the murderer among them, and falling upon him
with rage, thus led to the discovery of his crime. If
poor animals testify so much love and fidelity for a
morsel of bread, will you return offences for divine
benefits? If a dog will manifest such indignation
against his master's murderer, how can you look with
indifference on the murderers of your sovereign Lord?
And who are these murderers? None other than your
sins. Yes, your sins apprehended Him and bound Him
with ignominious fetters, loaded Him with infamy,
overwhelmed Him with outrages, bruised Him with
blows, and nailed Him to the cross. His executioners
could never have accomplished this without the fatal
aid of your sins. Will you, then, feel no hatred for
the barbarous enemies who put your Saviour to death?
Can you look upon this Victim immolated for you,
without feeling an increase of love for Him? All that
He did and suffered upon earth was intended to
produce in our hearts a horror and detestation of
sin. His hands and feet were nailed to the cross in
order to bind sin. Will you render all His
sufferings and labors fruitless to you? Will you
remain in the slavery of sin when He purchased your
freedom at the price of His Blood? Will you not
tremble at the name of sin, which God has wrought
such wonders to efface? What more could God have done
to turn men from sin than to place Himself nailed to
the cross between them and this terrible evil? What
man would dare to offend God, were Heaven and Hell
open before him? Yet a God nailed to a cross is a
still more terrible and appalling sight. I know not
what can move one who is insensible to such a
spectacle.
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