Sermon XX. Self-denial.

"We came into the land to which thou sentest us, which in very deed floweth with milk and honey, as may be known by these fruits." —Num. xiii., 28.

(A Sermon for the first Sunday in Lent.)

When the ancient people of Israel, after traversing the desert of Arabia, drew nigh to the promised land of Canaan, Moses, their prophet and leader, sent out one of every tribe to view the country, that they might be able to bring back an accurate account of it—of its productiveness, the number and strength of its population, and its means of defence. These spies, upon their return, were all agreed in regard to the wonderful fertility of the country, but in other respects their account was very discordant. One of their number, Caleb the son of Jephone, was full of enthusiasm, and said to the people: "Let us go up and possess the land, for we shall be able to take it!" But the others that had been with him spoke ill of the country, representing it as unhealthy, and impossible to be conquered. "The land which we have viewed devoureth its inhabitants; the people that we beheld are of a tall stature. There we saw monsters of the sons of Enac, of the giant kind, in comparison of whom we seemed like locusts." Why did these last give such a different account from the first? It was because they were cowardly, and afraid of the inhabitants of Canaan, and this blinded them to the fertility of its soil, its fine fruits and great beauty. Their fears caused them to exaggerate difficulties, and to overlook blessings which were within their reach.

This party of pusillanimous Israelites represent a portion of the Christian world in our day, who, taking counsel of their fears, and consulting their ease, speak of the practice of self-denial, and the virtue of penance, as something to be dreaded, unnecessary, and even criminal. "It is a land which devoureth its inhabitants!" They imagine insurmountable obstacles in the way. "We saw there monsters of the sons of Enac, of the giant kind." If their souls were of a more robust make, if their hearts were a little larger, their error would be dispelled, and they would see that a life of Christian mortification, instead of devouring them, would introduce them to the enjoyment of spiritual advantages and pleasures such as they never yet conceived of. They would find it a land "which in very deed floweth with milk and honey, as may be known by these fruits."

Their error concerning the virtue of Self-denial is owing in some measure to a misconception of its true meaning. To establish its true meaning, let us ask ourselves first of all, what is a true Christian life? The little catechism tells us that man was created to know God, to love Him and to serve Him in this world, and be forever happy with Him in the next. A true Christian life, then, consists in knowing, loving and serving God. If we give any other direction to our thoughts, or affections, or actions, we live falsely. Self-denial, as a Christian virtue, consists in renouncing all misdirection of the powers of the soul, or in setting aside all things which stand in the way of our realizing the great end for which we were created. Complete self-denial places the soul in true and complete relations with God.

Man has become in a great measure the servant and slave of the appetites and passions of his inferior nature, and by every act of self-denial he recovers his lost superiority, and renders himself again their master. Whenever, therefore, we find our passions and appetites are leading us astray, we should resist them, and practise self-denial and mortification. If a man, for instance, finds that his sensual appetites lead him to gluttony and drunkenness, he should fast and practise sobriety. If pride and vanity are entering his heart, he should exercise himself in humility. When he finds that the love of riches is making him miserly, he should be liberal to the poor. Anger must be overcome by meekness, incontinence by chastity, and sloth by vigilance and action. Briefly, the office of self-denial is to deny to the instincts of our lower nature what is contrary to right reason, and to God's holy law.

Should there, however, arise conflicting claims between our higher and lower nature, then the renunciation of one good for another of a higher order must be practised; according to the words of Christ: "If thine eye scandalize thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee." [Footnote 149]

For what, after all, are created things, or the members of a man's body, or even his life, compared with the eternal salvation of his soul? Men do not hesitate to sacrifice the less to save the greater; to cut away the masts of a ship in a storm to save the vessel; to amputate a limb to save the whole body. It is on this principle that our Lord declares that, "It is better for thee that one of thy members should perish, than that thy whole body should go into hell." Again our Lord says, on the same point, "If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sister, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple." [Footnote 150]

The meaning of our Lord is not that there is in these human ties any thing contrary to God's law, for his commandment to us is, "Honor thy father and thy mother;" "Love thy neighbor as thyself." The meaning of the text is; if your father, or your mother, or your wife or children, or your brother or sister, or even your own life, should stand in the way of your duty to God, then they must be subordinated, or even sacrificed, to your obedience and duty to Him. Our duty to God is supreme; and when the question arises of obeying Him or clinging to something else we possess or prize, He is content with nothing less than an unconditional surrender. So, then, self-denial is practised not to deny one's self of any thing that is a real good, but in regulating what is disorderly, in repressing what is excessive, in renouncing what is evil, that we may come in possession of our sovereign good. It aims at restraining the excesses of our animal instincts, and holding them in subjection to reason, and not at their destruction. For, in themselves considered, there is nothing even in our animal instincts which is irreconcilable with the perfection of the soul.

The same may be said of all human relationships; if they are not made to stand in the way of our salvation, and the keeping of the Divine Law, they render our natural life the more complete, and the obligation for their renunciation ceases. Did not Christ look upon mankind with human eyes, and make all our human feelings his own? As a son He obeyed his mother until his death; and even while suffering on the cross, such was his filial love and solicitude for her welfare, that He gave her in charge to his beloved disciple. As a friend, He wept at the death of Lazarus. In fine, all human sympathies, sorrows, and woes, found a home in his bosom. No, there is nothing in all created things, nor in human nature, even in its lowest appetites and passions, which may not be brought into harmony with reason, be reconciled with what holds the first place in the rank of our duties, and be made to contribute and adorn the perfection of the soul.

For it is not the purpose of Christianity to supersede man's nature; it supposes his nature. Christianity would be of no account independent of human nature. Christianity finds us men, and leaves us men; gentle, not cowardly; child-like, not childish; amiable, not effeminate; zealous, not fanatical; earnest, not narrow-minded; pious, not weak; humble, not abject; full of faith, and yet rational; obedient, not slavish; mortified, not mutilated; for Christ died to save man, and not to transmute man into something else. Christianity demands for its fullest manifestation the most complete nature. The more we are men, the greater our capacity for Christianity.

This being so, how strange it is to find men who modestly assume the character of Christian philosophers; and yet when the word self-denial, mortification, or asceticism is pronounced in their presence, they startle like one who is about to be exorcised! An ascetic, in their courteous language, is "a miserable victim of a falsely interpreted religion, starved and withered in delusion." Miserable victim indeed, if the highest purposes of life are, to gratify our animal instincts and give one's self up to ease and self-indulgence! Deluded certainly, if it were our belief, as it was that the heathen, that the grossest indulgence of sensual passions is a part of religious worship! On such a theory, an ascetic is unquestionably a miserable victim! But do these men really fancy that all that lies beyond their mental conceptions is delusion, like the Chinese, who look upon all that come from beyond the limits of their country as barbarians? Can they never learn the simple truth, that the practice of self-denial and kindred virtues, will always correspond in degree to one's conception of the dignity of the human soul, and the greatness of its destiny. Or are they cognizant of this truth, but pusillanimous like the Jews, who conjured up to their imaginations, "monsters of the sons of Enac, of the giant kind," being too cowardly to face the dangers and conquer the enemies which stood between them and the possession of "the land flowing with milk and honey"?

Strange indeed it is, that these self-called liberal Christians are not liberal enough to allow men, who have higher aims than the indulgence of sensual propensity and appetite, to live the life they like! If a man abstains from eating meat, why not let him, if he likes, eat fish? If another is bent on practising entire abstinence, why not allow him to fast? If another fancies he will improve by scourging himself, why not let him whip his body? If another takes the notion to shave his crown and walk with uncovered feet, wherein is he to be blamed? If another seeks the desert, or ensconces himself in a cave, what commandment does he break? What is there criminal in these actions, that there should be displayed so much spleen against those who live in this way? Christ was born in a stable, he fasted forty days and forty nights in the desert, and often had not a stone to rest his weary head upon. Daniel fed upon pulse, and gained both wisdom and health. The Baptist fed upon honey and locusts, and "there has not risen among those that are born of women a greater than John the Baptist."

These men were in pursuit of a great object. You perhaps don't perceive it! It is because the object which they aimed at does not lie within your range of vision, but above it. They were hungering and thirsting after the beauty of holiness. This was the great aim of their lives, and they followed it up like men in earnest.

"Life was to them a battle-field, Their hearts a holy land."

Be true to thyself, O friend; and learn to "let every one abound in his own sense," and in thy liberality, "let all the spirits praise the Lord."

Meanwhile the practice of these virtues richly repays the soul. They restore to the soul her true and perfect liberty. Is this not a great boon? Suppose that a queen was torn from her throne by a band of ruffians, and being stripped of her royal robes, was clothed in rags, and thrown into a dark and loathsome prison. Abuse and contempt are heaped upon her, putrid meat and filthy water are given to her for food and drink. Her cries are unheeded, and often she meditates an escape, but the sight of the cold and massive walls around her shake and overpower her resolutions. Enfeebled and exhausted, she finally relapses into indifference and despair. Now a slight but strange noise reaches her ears. It grows louder and louder. She listens attentively, and to her quick ears the sounds seems to come like blows struck upon her prison walls. They come nearer and grow louder; the iron bars of her cell give way under them; friends enter and her chains are broken. She steps forth free, breathes once more the fresh air, sees the fair world around her, and she is replaced with increased splendor and dignity upon her throne. Can you not easily imagine that every stroke she heard given against her prison walls, must have sent a thrill of joy through her whole frame? What language can express the gratitude which filled her heart toward her deliverers? And this is simply the picture of a soul which has been subject to the demands of its lower appetites and passions, and has been freed by the practice of self-denial. For what prison walls are so strong as the tyranny of passion over the soul? What degradation is equal to that of a Christian enslaved by vice? What food is so loathsome to the body as lust and sensuality must be to a soul made for wisdom and virtue? What comparison is there between the relief felt at escaping from a material prison to the liberation of the soul from the fetters of sin, free to breathe the pure air of angels, and feed on celestial joys. Oh! blessed virtue of Penance which emancipates the soul, and restores that image of God which is stamped upon it, to its original beauty and splendor!

Besides, penance renders a man invincible against his spiritual foes. The mortified man is like a horse in the open fields. You may approach him with a halter in hand, and almost lay your hands upon him, but he easily escapes your grasp. So the devil may approach a man who has gained mastery over his appetites and inordinate affections, with his temptations, and the opportunity of committing sin ready at hand, but he has no power to capture or bind him. But the self-indulgent man has not the moral life to resist, nor the strength to escape; he is easily led into sin and made the slave of the devil. The mortified man is like a flower which draws nothing but its necessary nourishment from the earth, and that through a slender stem, while it opens wide its bosom to the light and air of heaven; so he, by self-denial, has narrowed all those avenues of his soul which lie earthward, while his whole mind is open to the contemplation of God, and his heart is filled with the taste of His sweetness.

Moreover, it renders the practice of prayer easy. All the irregular movements of our lower nature being subdued, the soul thus disengaged is able to think steadfastly on God, and attend to his inspiration, according to those words of the divine Spouse in Scripture: "I will lead her into the solitude, and will speak to her heart, and she shall sing there as in the days of her youth." [Footnote 151]

According to the experience of all spiritual men, the spirit of prayer can only spring from, mortification. "Give more study to mortification," says Lewis da Ponte, "than to contemplation, for an unmortified person seeks after the spirit of prayer and cannot find it, whilst prayer itself seeks the man who is truly mortified, and knows how to find him." Saint Ignatius once heard one say in the praise of a great servant of God: "He is a great man of prayer." The saint replied, "No, he is a man of great mortification." And on another occasion he remarked, that "a quarter of an hour spent in prayer is sufficient to unite a mortified man closely to God; whereas an unmortified man would not obtain this in two hours." "He who does not live according to the corruption of the senses," says St. John of the Cross, "has the consolation to see all the operations of the powers of his soul tend to the contemplation of God as to their centre."

Finally, it fills the soul with spiritual consolations, according to the words of Holy Scripture. "Who is this that cometh up from the desert flowing with delights, leaning upon her beloved?" [Footnote 152]

While the heart is disturbed with irregular affections and filled with inordinate love for created things, divine love cannot enter it. The desert of which Solomon speaks in the passage just quoted, is produced in the soul by the renunciation and mortification of the irregular movements of the sensual appetites, and the soul then goes forth to meet the celestial spouse; and as all obstacles to his love are removed, she is filled with his divine consolation. And thus supported by her Beloved, the practice of every virtue becomes easy. "Whilst my heart was dilated with thy consolations, I ran in the way of thy commandments." [Footnote 153] Oh, blessed penance, which recovers for the soul its supreme good, and gives it here a foretaste of Paradise!

Let us, then, enter upon the duties of Lent with the conviction of their necessity and their high importance. Let us manfully conquer all our repugnances to the works of penance enjoined by Holy Church; for every act of self-denial and mortification of sensuality will open avenues of true spiritual joy to the soul. Let us pass through this holy season with sincerity and confidence, practising all its requirements, that it may be said of us also, "Who is this that cometh up from the desert, flowing with delights, leaning on her beloved?" For only those who take part in the penances of Lent can share in the joys of Easter.