Second Sunday in Lent
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
And
as He was yet speaking, behold a bright cloud overshadowed them. And lo! A
voice out of the cloud, saying: This is My beloved Son in whom I am well
pleased; hear ye Him. (Math. xvii.-5.)
Mount Tabor,
my dear friends, is honored by this august group of distinguished persons who
gather on its summit. Never was a spot more favored, except the stable at
Bethlehem and the Cross on Calvary. In all the grand assemblies of the world,
there is nothing to be compared to this memorable gathering. Royalty with all
its equipage, is as nothing in the comparison; and Tabor is clad in a splendor
as much surpassing the magnificence of kingly halls, as its size preponderates
over the crowns of kings and emperors.
Who
constitute this sublime group? The Gospel just read to you, gives you their
names. They were Peter, James, and John, the Apostles; Moses, Elias, and Jesus.
Our Saviour took with Him Peter, James, and John, three poor and unlettered
men, to show to the world that He did not depend upon the power or erudition of
the great for the promulgation of His doctrine; and that these are not
necessary to the acquirement of the eternal splendor of heaven. But His
Apostles He wanted with Him to be witnesses of His Transfiguration, to behold
with their own eyes a glimpse of His majesty. He was soon to be crucified—to
die an ignominious death upon the cross. In the hour of darkness, in the infamy
of the cross, the apostles may doubt His divinity. He now impresses upon their
souls a splendor and a sublimity which will never be effaced. The rabble may
bind Him in the garden and drag Him to prison as an infamous impostor; Jews may
mock Him, scourge Him, and crown Him with thorns, but the memory of Mount Tabor
can never be obliterated. No degradation is so complete, no calumny so subtle
or vicious, no death so disgraceful, as to banish the magnificence of that
glorious scene!
Moses appears
as the representative of the ancient laws; Elias comes as the prince of the
prophets. Both testify that this is the Son of God; that He is the embodiment
of the law and the prophets, that it was of Him they prophesied.
To intensify
this testimony, Jesus was transfigured before them: "And His face did
shine as the sun, and His garments became white as snow." The Apostles are astounded by the glory
of the Son of God and the magnificence of the environments. St. Peter
exclaims: "Lord, it is good for us to be here; if Thou wilt let us make
three tabernacles; one for Thee, one for Moses, and one for Elias. And while He
was yet speaking, behold a white cloud overshadowed them; and lo! a voice out
of the cloud, saying .. This is My beloved Son in whom I am well pleased; hear
ye Him."
The Eternal Father again declares Him
to be His Son, and commands mankind to hear Him. Overawed by the grandeur of
the sight, the presence of Moses and Elias, the splendor of the Transfiguration,
the appearance of the cloud, and the voice of the Almighty from the heavens,
the Apostles are seized by fear. They are thrilled with admiration and awe by
the breath of heaven; they are confirmed in faith; they are prepared now to
witness the humiliation of Christ, without suffering from scandal or loss of
faith.
Now you may
say to yourselves: "Oh, had we been blessed by that grand manifestation of
Christ's power, every doubt would be banished from our souls! We could labor
with a greater zeal for the glory of God, and our devotion toward Him could
never grow cold. Death itself would be welcome; no terror would be contained
therein; for it would only be a means of uniting us forever with the consuming
object of our affections." Whatever you may think in your own minds, it is
certain that many a one tossed upon the billows of doubt and infidelity would
rejoice in that scene. They would thank God with the most glowing fervor for
such a sublime privilege. They would become adherents of the Cross. They would
glory in being followers of the Crucified.
But have you
not sufficient evidence to convince the skeptic, though he saw not the glory of
Tabor? Have you not arguments the most convincing and irresistible of Christ's
divinity? Yea, you, too, have testimony, and to my mind, even more persuasive
than the Transfiguration, although an expression of this sort may appear
exaggerated.
From the
universal conduct of man may be drawn proofs of Our Lord's divinity, which are
in their nature incontrovertible, and challenge the admiration of all thinking
people; for in man's actions we observe him governed by one or more of these
motives: the thirst for wealth, the thirst for pleasure, or the thirst for
power. From these three impelling motives we shall demonstrate the divinity of
Jesus, the Saviour of the world.
The thirst
for wealth! What is it that man will not attempt in order to seize this
glittering object of his desires? The polar snows are no barrier to him; nor
can the torrid heat prevent him; pestilence terrifies him not; he will even
defy death itself in his burning desire for wealth. In his feverish excitement,
no toil is too wearisome, no risk too dangerous, no exposure too exhausting for
him. Friendship will be bartered; the sacred pledges of honor will be violated;
family ties will be torn asunder, if these only are obstacles to his ambition
for opulence! Honesty is nothing! Reputation is of no moment! The rights of
others are of no consequence! Health, contentment, and the charms of home are
all to no purpose; he must have money! If he cannot get it by fair means, he
will obtain it by treachery. He will condemn himself to servitude in prison; he
will even plunge his hands into the blood of his fellow-men for the sake of its
acquirement.
Still, in the
presence of this feverish craving, amidst these surging masses, you see persons
turning aside from the throng and taking the vow of voluntary poverty. Leaving
wealth—departing from its lucrative honors—they exile themselves. For what? Why
do they differ from the multitude? Why bid an everlasting farewell to that for
which others sacrifice everything? Are there any formulas in science which will
solve this phenomenon? Is there any genius who will explain this abandonment
upon scientific principles? Is there a single fact in the nature of things to
unravel this mystery? No; it cannot be explained except on the hypothesis that
Jesus is divine and the Son of the Most High. The religious of both sexes have
listened to the command given by Almighty God on Mount Tabor: "Hear ye
Him." These have not only heard Him, but have obeyed his heavenly
invitation.
Let us now
consider the second great motive prompting man's conduct—the thirst for
pleasure. It may be simple amusement of some sort or another; or it may be an
indulgence in the brimming bowl which destroys. In drunkenness some take
delight. They hesitate not to wallow in the mire, if their heads only reel
under the influence of potent beverage.
But the one,
universal motive impelling mankind is carnal pleasure. The passion burns in the
heart, ofttimes producing a gale which drives men and women, too, from the path
of honor into whirlpools of destruction. To satiate this desire, innocence is
immolated upon the altar of sinful pleasure. The noblest virtue is sold in the
market of lust. The hopes of a promising career are weighed in the balance of
passion, and are but a trifle in the scales of carnal desires. Either
legitimately or illegitimately, the human race is borne to the goal of sexual
pleasures. Some will be hurled along by their unbridled desires, until respect,
reputation, and purity are lost. They care not, finally, whether a thousand
point the finger of scorn at them. They are unmindful where they exhibit their
profligacy. Modesty is for them no more. Chastity is banished from their
hearts. The gentle affections of the heart are impoverished, the intellect is
robbed of its light, and shame is stamped upon a countenance once beautiful in
aspect and innocent in expression. In the abodes of impurity, innocence and
health, fortunes and accomplishments are squandered, though a father's heart
is breaking and a mother is bent in grief. There is no regard for friends or
family affection. Pleasure, carnal pleasure is the one controlling,
overmastering motive! For that they barter themselves, trample upon everything
sacred, disregard the tears and entreaties of parents, spurn the voice of the
Church, and defy high heaven! In their headlong course, they care not whether
they die in the slums of debauchery or in the hospitals for incurables, or be
damned forever to the regions of the vile and the impure. Yet, notwithstanding
the prevalence and force of the thirst for pleasure, we behold persons turning
aside from the blandishment of life, from the gaiety of society, from the
allurement of companions and making the vow of perpetual chastity.
Can you
explain this strange occurrence? Can you account for the fulfillment of that
vow so contrary to human passion? Will the skeptic or infidel produce some
philosophical or scientific maxim to controvert this prodigy of human
sacrifice? We challenge them to bring forth their contradictory arguments; but
they will not—they cannot; the facts are in evidence against them. The only
explanation, the only hypothesis which can be assumed, is that Jesus is God;
and that His influence over the human heart at this distant day, is as powerful
now as His majesty was overawing to the Apostles Peter, James, and John.
We next
approach the third motive of human activity —the thirst for power. This desire
has caused ruin on earth and war in heaven. The craving for power drove Lucifer
from the glories of celestial bliss into the pit of hell. The love of power
expelled our first parents from the Garden of Eden. To become like unto God,
telling good from evil, was the ambition which plundered their innocence, made
exiles of them, and subjected their progeny to misery and death. The wish to be
greater than his brother, to be more influential with God, induced Cain to
stain his soul with the gentle blood of his brother.
Alexander the
Great lamented because his father, Philip of Macedon, was so successful. He
will conquer all, thought Alexander, and there will be no victories left for
me. Cesar, too, longed for power and greatness, though they accomplished his
ruin.
So it is the
same with all the celebrated conquerors and many renowned statesmen. You know
the ambition of Napoleon Bonaparte. His thirst for preeminence plundered other
nations while it exhausted his own. He dictated treaties, spurned the laws of
nations drenched the nations in blood, and in his mad desire for conquest,
dragged the venerable Pope Pius VII from Rome and made him a prisoner. It is
not needful, however, to recall these prodigious examples in order to prove the
limitless extent of the thirst for power.
You are
witnesses of its presence. In our day the thirst for power has become epidemic.
The public mind is restless, and surges in its eagerness for potency and
popularity. In one hand are held corrupt principles; in the other, the fairest
promises of honesty integrity, and justice. The latter, however, are often only
masks disguising dishonesty, faithlessness, and injustice.
Ambition for
power regards not the undying principles of honor; despises truth, if truth
does not serve better than falsehood; courts fraud, deception, and treachery,
when these assist to the temple of worldly greatness. The burning thirst for
fame, distinction, and control converts the honorable into rascals, the honest
into rogues and the truthful into liars. There is no compact so sacred, which
will not be violated; no virtue is so exalted, which will not be humbled or
silenced; no tie of friendship so dear, which will not be broken in the
reckless desire for power!
Cunningness
is called wisdom; bribery, generosity; violated pledges, cleverness! The
victim of this passion resolves to conquer or to perish. He toils day after day
in feverish application. Health is nothing, family happiness is nothing. There
is not anything which can stay his determined, all-consuming purpose.
He exclaims:
"I will have power, though the effort costs me health, though I trample
upon friends, though I favor the base, the low, and intriguing,—I will have
power! Religion will be no barrier! The teachings of the Church shall be no
restraint! The welfare of my immortal soul shall be no hindrance! The glory of
my country shall not deter me! 0h Power! Everything I will offer at your
shrine, if you only crown me one of your elect!"
Still,
notwithstanding that this strife is found in every sphere of human endeavor,
notwithstanding its universality, you are aware that many take the vow of
entire obedience. They lay down their will at the feet of their superior. In
the future, his or her will is to be theirs; at his or her command, they obey
in all things not involving sin.
They may be
prodigies in the sciences and the arts—in every branch of human attainment
they may excel—still they humbly submit to the will of another, although this
other may be inferior in everything which goes to make up great natural gifts
and vast acquirements. He or she may be of only ordinary ability; they may be
remarkable for their extensive research and matchless genius,—yet they bow down
before his commands and acknowledge his guidance.
Again we
inquire, is there any facts within the grasp of human knowledge to account for
this inexplicable surrender of man's will? Is there any theory within the
entire domain of science to offer a solution for this problem? Science is
baffled, the sage is confounded; passion itself is frustrated at the sight of
this marvelous renouncement of the human will!
In this
perplexity, in this search for a solution, we turn once more to the
Transfiguration, and recall again the words: "This is my beloved Son in
whom I am well pleased; hear ye Him."
It is devotion to Jesus which has drawn them from the avenues of ordinary
life and common passion. They have bid adieu to society, to the allurements of
fame and the attractions of popularity, for the thorn- crowned Son of Man. In
the divinity of Christ is found the reason of these phenomena; and to me they
are more persuasive than the Transfiguration: for they are more prolonged in
their duration; are visible to an infinitely greater number of witnesses, and
are beheld in wonderment in this our own time.
These are
arguments that are incontestable. There is no other explanation for the taking
of the three vows of voluntary poverty, perpetual chastity, and entire
obedience. But while we as Catholics profess the divinity of Jesus; while we
expect no proofs—nor do we want them—still, why do we not conform our lives
more and more to the doctrines of Jesus?



