From Sermons for Every Sunday in the Year

by Rev. B. J. Raycroft, A. M.

Published by Fr. Pustet & Co.

Copyright 1900 by Rev. B. J. Raycroft

But that servant falling down, besought him, saying have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. (St. Math. xviii.- 26. )

My Dear Friends: Among the many useful lessons which the Gospel for to-day imparts, is contrition, or sorrow for sin. The poor servant is in a sad plight-His master demands a settlement. The account shows him to be in debt to the amount of 10,000 talents. An awful sum it is. He has not the means to liquidate such an enormous debt. So he falls prostrated before his master, beseeching him to show mercy to his servant. His supplication is not in vain. The good king has compassion, and forgives him all. But this servant has not the proper disposition for pardon. He is not possessed of a great-hearted generosity. No love for his master accentuates his motives, but fear of punishment makes him cringe; for did he love the King, he would not have dared to abuse another servant of the same king. With cruel greed, he seizes his fellow-servant. There is no pity there; no heart to melt into tenderness; but mercilessly he casts the poor debtor of 100 pence into prison. The fellow-servant's indebtedness was only a few dollars; his comrade's was 10,000 talents, or over $15,000,000 of our money.

It is evident that this parable represents, in the person of the king, Almighty God. His mercy is without limit. He is ever ready to pardon the sinner; but some conditions are required. Our benign Saviour gives us one in the continuation of this parable, when He describes the anger of the king and the condemnation of the unjust servant, saying: "So shall My Heavenly Father do to you if you forgive not every one his brother from your hearts." Indeed, this seems a very reasonable requisite for pardon. Why should a human creature ask forgiveness, if he be unwilling to cancel the wrongs perpetrated upon him by another? Does God owe him any personal favors? Can he ask and receive, but in turn be narrow of heart and unforgiving? Thus it is, however, with man. He seems to have a mortgage on God's goodness; yet he is unmindful of the entreaties of his fellow-servants.

We may with unrestrained indignation condemn the unjust servant, consider him a flinty-hearted rascal; still, are we much better? How often, on our knees, in the presence of our Lord in the tabernacle, do we supplicate for mercy? But the very same day, perhaps the very same hour, we calumniate our neighbor. Do we mean to insult Almighty God by our conduct?

Heaven forbid! Our prayer, nevertheless, contained not the true spirit of a contrite heart; or how could we be so unmindful of that disposition toward others, which God demands. It should be your earnest prayer that God may teach you to know yourselves and feel what others are. Were you conscious of all your own faults, you would not be so severe in judging others. Did you fully realize the immense debt that you owe God on account of sin, you would then be induced to shed tears of repentance. Your contrition would have all the requisites of true sorrow.

Sometimes a pang of remorse may disturb someone's conscience. Like the unjust servant, his sorrow may spring from dreaded punishment. But remorse is not contrition. A friend whom you have injured, dies. His last words were declarations of your worth. You had misjudged him. He was your friend. You had mistaken him for an enemy. You now know the truth, and the truth fills you with remorse. You deplore your rashness ; still there is no consideration for the offense given to God by your trespasses against your neighbor. The grief is not the contrition required in the Sacrament of Penance. Fear of the punishment of hell is sufficient for imperfect contrition. But how ignoble is such sorrow. God is sinned against. The Creator and Lord of heaven and earth has been insulted, yet the penitent regards not the majesty of the One offended, but selfishly considers his own loss. Can a Catholic be so forgetful of God's beneficence, so ungrateful to his greatest Benefactor, so blunt to every noble emotion, as not to implore first God's pardon with the most profound feelings of compunction! The penalty may be terrible, but a magnanimous heart would certainly experience more pain from the thought that he had broken the chains of divine friendship than the punishment which his transgressions entail. A pious Catholic, if he has had the misfortune to commit sin, will first think of his ingratitude toward his Maker, his truest Friend.

The penitent must be sorry for all the mortal sins committed since his last worthy confession. Indeed, we may add, his venial sins, too. For any violation of heaven's law should awaken in the transgressor's heart the deepest sentiments of grief. Think of the Being offended and the one offending, and is not this reason sufficient that we should bewail even the smallest sin, all the days of our life? Then ponder upon the mercy of God. All He asks is that the penitent will return and seek forgiveness with a humble and sorrowful heart. Ah! Would many of us be so lenient toward those whose ungratefulness we have felt? Would you thus kindly and compassionately hold out so many loving inducements for a renewal of friendship? Would you go in quest of the ingrate as the Good Shepherd goes after the sheep which is lost? The unjust servant's debt was so great he could never pay it. This debt is nothing else only mortal sin. An eternity of punishment is the sentence. He prostrates himself and entreats his King to have pity upon him. What is the consequence? Not only patience is shown by the King, but He has compassion on the servant, and forgives all. Let us in our hearts kneel before the Sovereign Majesty of God and deplore all our sins-not only those committed since our last confession, but every sin of our lives. From the same fountain of feeling, let us supplicate God to be merciful toward us and obliterate all our transgressions.

There is no misfortune so great as that of sin. Troubles, trials, failures may strew our path with thorns and cause the heart to ache, but these are incomparable with sin. They are often for our good. Adversity purifies. From its gloomy mist arises blessings - blessings which train both the heart and intellect for grand achievement; which expand our view of things; which bring forth the purest feelings of sympathy from the deepest springs of the human heart.

Not thus with sin. It poisons, where affliction only sweetens. It banishes God's grace from our heart. Trials are the milestones on the way to heaven. Sin diseases soul and body; misfortunes, well borne, are the precious material from which heavenly crowns are fashioned. Sin is the only curse, the only calamity which degrades us. Sin robs us of God's friendship, and makes us rebels to heaven. It should, therefore, be detested more than all other afflictions of life. From trials often come magnificent rewards; from sin, nothing except the anger of heaven. That the sinner has offended God, should be the only reason for his sorrow; that he has brought upon himself condign punishment, ought to be of secondary consideration.

Contrition should not be only expressed by the lips,-nor is it necessary to manifest our sorrow by appearances; but it is essential that our grief should come from the heart. If tears forbidden rise, they may be indicators of sorrow's pangs within. They are, however, dispensable. The keenest contrition has often no tears at all. A formal recital of words, commonly called an act of contrition, is not necessary. The heart of the penitent must feel the sorrow, and he must resolve to avoid sin in the future and the occasions thereof. The penitent, in the humility of his heart, regrets his fall; is grieved because he was enticed by the alluring charms of sin from the Source of all good. He confesses his ingratitude toward heaven, and feels the low depths to which sin has dragged him. In sadness of heart he turns his eyes toward his Benefactor and prays: "Oh Lord! Have compassion on me. My debt is enormous. I can never repay You for the graces I have squandered; but Your mercy is above Your works! Pardon me, a sinner, Father, earnestly I implore!" The shackles of sin fall from the poor penitent's soul. He is cleansed by the merits of his Savior's passion and death. He is once more a child of heaven. Angels might well have stood in awe while the priest pronounces the words of absolution and the penitent bows his head in silent sorrow. By this special power given by Our Lord to His Church, the sinner is again robed in the garment of innocence. And what was the sacrifice demanded from the transgressor in order that the merits of Jesus may be applied to his soul? Simply, go show yourself to the priest, and be sorry for your transgressions of My law. What wonderful rewards for so small a labor! Purity of heart and soul returns! The awful penalty to be imposed in eternity is obliterated!

How marvelous are the ways of God! What remedies he has prepared for frail human nature! Let us be thankful to Him that we are Catholics and have such extraordinary means of salvation. Every Catholic should daily ask God not to abandon him if he fall into the meshes of sin, but to give him the grace of repentance. Be not like the unjust servant spoken of in the Gospel of to-day, but show your appreciation of God's goodness by forgiving all others from your heart. By thus acting, God will have compassion on you during life and when the soul stands trembling on the verge of eternity-when the last account is to be taken of every action of your lives, He will be merciful toward you, for you have shown mercy to others, "As you meted out, so it shall be meted unto you."