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?
To believe will not save us; nor will it do to be good Catholics for an hour on Sunday and during the remainder of the week break God’s laws. It will not do to praise God with our lips, while our hearts are far from Him. Let us, therefore, during this holy season of Lent, mortify ourselves, that we also may be masters of our passions. Let us entreat the Blessed Virgin, the Mother of Jesus, that she may supplicate her Son to assist us in our efforts toward perfection.



