The Shepherd Of My Soul Part 3

The spiritual meaning of this, like the other verses of the Shepherd Psalm, is peculiarly descriptive of our Lord, the Good Shepherd of human souls. He, in a manner altogether divine, precedes His elect, and prepares them the way of salvation. He does not deliver them from enemies and dangers, which would be unnatural in the present state, but He makes use of evils, as said before, to increase the perfection of His chosen souls.

Gradually, step by step, from a natural He leads them to a higher state-from diffidence to trust, from fear to love, from sorrow and anguish to peace and joy.

The change in the soul is rarely at once and immediate; it does not come of a sudden. At first it is difficult and repugnant to nature to find joy in sorrow and pleasure in pain, to see gladness in tears and rest in disturbance, to find peace in the midst of our enemies; but G.o.d, in His omnipotent goodness, so disposes and provides for the souls of His elect that sooner or later they penetrate to the meaning of things, and find there their hidden treasure. When the fabric of life itself has crumbled to its native dust, when friends have gone and charms departed, when the very earth we tread seems trembling beneath our feet, and every dream of earthly bliss is fled, when enemies sit where loved ones sat, and the heart has all but ceased to beat, then is the acceptable time and propitious moment, for the devout and faithful soul, that has washed its garments in the blood of the Lamb, to look up to Heaven with expectant joy. The thrilling vision of eternal love so much desired, so long perhaps delayed, is then, indeed, about to dawn.

The sweetness of G.o.d and the peace of His spirit are not to be found in the market place, nor in the noise and clamor of the busy street. It is not at the banquets of earthly kings that we taste of the joys of the Saviour's feast. It is not amid honors and riches and the pleasures of sense that the calm dews of Heaven refresh the soul. We were made for a higher friends.h.i.+p, for a more intimate union, for a sweeter companions.h.i.+p than any that earth can provide. And it is only when the door has been shut to the outer world, when the vanities of time have ceased to be sought, that the soul is ready for the wedding garment, and able to prepare for the marriage feast. It is in the inner sanctuary and alone, divested of fleshy trammels and freed from the bondage of earthly attachments, that the soul is able to meet its G.o.d and hold intimate converse with Him.

There are few, comparatively, out of the mult.i.tude of souls that are called to the feast which is spread for them, that ever sit down at the Master's table. Many are invited, and the servant is sent out at the hour of supper to say to them that were called, that all things are ready, and that they should come; but they tarry, they are not ready, they begin to make excuses and wish to be held excused. Some are entangled in perishable riches and cannot leave their possessions; others are preoccupied with worldly affairs and must not neglect their business; still others are pursuing the pleasures of earth, and have no time for the things of Heaven. But the feast is not for these, after all. The Master invites them, He calls them, He sends His ministers in search of them, He reproves and chides them, He thunders against them to make them hear and obey; but they will not come, they shall never taste of His banquet. He has not spread a table for the proud, the haughty, the arrogant; He cannot meet in loving communion the worldly, the sensuous, the lovers of ease and hurtful pleasures. Such as these are not prepared to meet Him; they would be out of place and ill at ease in His company, they do not like His society.(60)

To be able to come to the Master and to sit at His feast there is need of preparation. The garments of the world must be changed for the garments of Heaven, the ways of men must be made to yield to the ways of G.o.d. For what is wisdom with men is foolishness with G.o.d,(61) the weak things of earth are the strong things of Heaven, the outcast of the world are the chosen of the Father Almighty. And hence our Saviour under the figure of the master in the parable who prepared a great supper, says of all those who will not hear Him, who neglect His divine inspirations and despise the call of His ministers, that they shall never taste of His feast. But who, then, shall sit down at His table? for whom has He prepared the banquet?

He tells us Himself, that those who shall partake of His supper are the lowly, the humble, the poor, the lame, and the blind; the despised of men and the outcast of the people; those who have known sorrow and suffering and penance, who have found the way of the cross and embraced it; who, for the kingdom of Heaven and the love of Christ crucified, have given up father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren and sisters; yea, and their own life also, that they might inherit everlasting crowns that fade not away.(62)

St. Paul was one of these masterful spirits, who surrendered all that he had, all that he prized most dearly for love of Christ and His service.

"The things that were gain to me," he says, "the same have I counted loss for Christ. Furthermore, I count all things to be but loss for the excellent knowledge of Jesus Christ my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but as waste, that I may gain Christ."(63) What a struggle, too, was that which St. Augustine describes, speaking of his own conversion! The parting with those sinful delights which had hitherto held him in chains was like the forfeiture of all he possessed, and it seemed to him that life thereafter would not be worth living; yet he generously and vigorously gave them up that Christ might become his possession. He has also described for us the change. "How sweet," he says, "did it at once become to me to want the sweetness of those trifles, which to lose had been my fear, but which to have lost was now a joy! Thou didst cast them forth from me, oh Thou true and highest sweetness! Thou didst cast them forth, and in their stead didst enter in Thyself, sweeter than all pleasure!"(64)

It is such as these, heroic souls, who for the sake of G.o.d and His kingdom, have made the world their enemy, that compose the company of the elect. And for these alone it is that the Shepherd of souls has spread a table of rest and peace, even in this life, of which they partake in the sight of their enemies, in the presence of those who think evil of them, who despise and deride them, in the sight of the world which hates them.

These holy souls, the elect of G.o.d, whom the Father has chosen for Himself, have learned, through the trials and losses of life, the lessons of peace and detachment which crosses are intended to teach. They have learned, by exclusion and retirement from worldly festivities and pernicious delights, to draw near to G.o.d, out of love for His beauty and mercy, or if only to ease their breaking hearts and dispel the loneliness of their forsaken lives. In the words of the Psalmist, they have tasted and seen that the Lord is sweet, and that there is no one like unto G.o.d.(65) With the image of the Crucified before their eyes and conscious of the presence of their loving Shepherd, they greet with delight the sufferings that oppress them, and they feast in peace in the presence of their enemies. They know that all is arranged or permitted by the hand that guards them, and by the One that loves them; and, though He slay them, yet will they trust Him.(66) For what can happen to those that love G.o.d? what evil can befall them? Angels have charge over them to keep them in all their ways.(67)

It is confidence, therefore, in their Saviour and G.o.d that gives peace and tranquillity to the souls of the just. To know Him, to love Him, to trust Him, to dwell in His presence and to please Him, throughout all the vicissitudes and evils of life, are the objects of their constant actions and the highest aspirations of their fervid souls. Confident of the favor and protection of G.o.d, and rooted in His love, they despise all pain and the threats of men; and in the midst of the battle of life they rejoice in a peace of mind and soul of which the worldling cannot dream. The pasture in which they feed, the banquet of which they partake are nothing else than the love and friends.h.i.+p of G.o.d which nourishes and refreshes their spirits when to every mortal eye they seem dest.i.tute, abandoned and alone.

And this peace of G.o.d, which surpa.s.seth all understanding,(68) develops in souls truly spiritual a habit of mind and a character of life that even here below partake of the stability and calm sense of victory which, in their perfection, belong only to the state of the blessed in Heaven. They feel that all things are possible to them through Him that strengtheneth them,(69) and that no temporal affliction, no power of man or any creature shall wrest from them the feast which they enjoy. And hence they are able to ask, in the confident words of the Apostle, "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or famine, or nakedness; or danger, or persecution, or the sword ... In all these things we overcome, because of him that hath loved us. Therefore we are sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor princ.i.p.alities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor might, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of G.o.d, which is in Christ Jesus, our Lord."(70)

X. THOU ANOINTEST MY HEAD WITH OIL; MY CUP RUNNETH OVER.

In these words the Psalmist alludes to one of the most touching offices performed by the good shepherd towards his sheep. The day is drawing to a close, the golden orb of light has sunk to rest, and the shadows are creeping up the hills. The hush of night is falling round, and the shepherd must gather his flock into the fold. The labors, the journeys, the trials, the wanderings of the day are over, and now comes the time for rest. It is a scene full of peace, and the sheep greet its approach with feelings of restful antic.i.p.ation. Many of them are foot-sore and lame; many have received bruises and scratches during the journeyings of the day; some have gaping and bleeding wounds from the attacks of wild beasts; while others are simply tired out and exhausted from the long walks and steep climbing of hills. The shepherd knows all this, and before leading them into rest he takes care to see that the wounds of all are dressed and soothed, so that nothing shall disturb the sweet repose of their sleep.

For this purpose he stands at the door of the fold as the sheep pa.s.s in.

He has olive oil and cedar-tar to use as healing ointments for their wounds, and he has cool, refres.h.i.+ng water for those that are worn and weary. Lovingly and tenderly he regards each member, as one by one they enter into rest; and they that are wounded or over-weary he holds back with his rod, till their scars and sores are duly cared for and made ready for the night's repose.

How closely these offices performed for the sheep by the shepherd resemble the care of our Father and Saviour providing at the end for the souls that He loves! He has been with them all through life, leading, guiding, guarding, shepherding them at all times, going before them with the blessings of goodness. And when at length the end approaches, they feel the need of His loving-kindness perhaps more than ever before. Like the shepherd's flock, their needs are many and various. Some souls there are who, through the special grace of G.o.d, are able to pa.s.s their lives in innocence and holiness, living in the world, yet not of it, dwelling in the midst of men and in the sight of their wickedness and sin, yet undefiled withal, beautiful witnesses of the power and love of Him that strengthens and preserves them.

But the majority are not thus favored. Notwithstanding all their graces, they have been subject to falls-perhaps to many grievous falls; they have suffered many wounds and bruises, they have had many tears to shed.

Mult.i.tudes there are, in fact, who come down to the verge of life, to the very gate of death, sin-stained, racked and wounded, their life blood ebbing out through sores and wounds which they themselves have made by wilful open friends.h.i.+p with sin and vice, the deadly foes of their souls.

We have many varying examples of these straying souls. There is the type of Mary Magdalen, of St. Peter, of St. Paul, of St. Augustine, who pa.s.sed a portion, brief or prolonged, of their mortal days far from the Father's home, feeding on the husks of swine; but who, while yet in the vigor of life, felt the touch of the merciful hand and heard the sound of the loving voice, leading them, calling them back to G.o.d, back to the "beauty ever ancient and ever new." Such souls as these, it is true, const.i.tute one cla.s.s of erring, but repenting sinners; but there is another cla.s.s whose plight is far more pitiable. They are those long-delayed, but finally repentant sinners, men and women who have lived their lives away from the Church and its sacraments, who have grown old and gray in the sins of their youth, and now, at the last, when death is coming, are moved, by a special grace from Heaven, to weep for their sins and wasted years before they enter their eternal abode.

For each and all of these how important it is that the Shepherd should stand at the door of the fold and bind up their wounds with His tender grace before they pa.s.s through the portals of death! Scarred and wayward children, victims of evil circ.u.mstances, creatures of vanity and of folly, they realize at the end how impotent they are, how helpless in the presence of the coldness of death to redeem or make sure the years that are fled, unless He draw near and a.s.sist them who has sustained them in life, and who is at once the author and the master of both life and death!

But for all, without exception, the need of the Shepherd is imperative at the end. The victory, the happy issue of life's struggle, "is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of G.o.d that sheweth mercy."(71) All may run, all may strive, indeed, for the prize of eternal life, but none can be sure, short of the mercy of G.o.d, that he will be saved; none can merit this crowning glory of life. Whether young or old, whether favored or neglected, whether innocent or guilty, whether the life has been dowered with special blessings and never known the stain of grievous sin, or whether it has been eked out amidst deepest misery and defiled with hateful crimes, the same uncertainty for all remains as to the manner in which the end shall come. Men may reason and conjecture, from what they see and know, that this one or that is in G.o.d's favor, and shall so persevere to the end; that the members of a certain family, or cla.s.s, or station in life, are sure to be saved, and shall never fall short; but that those of another cla.s.s or condition shall, on the contrary, die as they have lived, in the filth of their sins, to be forever in torment. But these are the reasonings of men, which are of no avail in the sight of G.o.d. It is only the Father in Heaven who knows the elect. He alone is able to tell who shall remain to be crowned, and who is to be condemned.

Perseverance is a gratuitous gift of G.o.d, we cannot merit it. All our good actions and holy deeds, which are performed in the state of grace and out of a motive of charity, do, it is true, merit a reward in Heaven, they tend to increase our blessedness hereafter; but just as it is not in our power to merit the first grace, by which we are raised from a state of sin, so are we utterly unable to do anything which shall secure for a certainty the final grace, by which alone we can be saved. Wherefore the Preacher said: "All these things have I considered in my heart, that I might carefully understand them: there are just men and wise men, and their works are in the hand of G.o.d; and yet man knoweth not whether he be worthy of love or hatred. But all things are kept uncertain for the time to come, because all things equally happen to the just and to the wicked, to the good and to the evil, to the clean and to the unclean, to him that offereth victims, and to him that despiseth sacrifices. As the good is, so also is the sinner; as the perjured, so he also that sweareth truth."(72)

This uncertainty as to the end of life, and of the gift of final perseverance, all holy souls have felt. To die in the friends.h.i.+p of G.o.d, and thence to enjoy His presence forever, is a gift of so transcendent a nature, so far above our natural powers and utmost deserts that no creature, which can at all conceive it, would dare claim it as a right. It was this conviction that made the saints tremble to think of it. This it was that prompted St. Paul to admonish the Philippians to work out their salvation with fear and trembling,(73) and that also evoked from the same Apostle those candid words concerning himself: "I chastise my body, and bring it into subjection; lest, perhaps, when I have preached to others, I myself should become a castaway."(74)

And have we not sometimes witnessed instances which, so far as man can judge, give ground for this fear as to perseverance, and emphasize the great truth that to die in G.o.d's favor is, indeed, a singular and a gratuitous gift? How many have we not known who started well, but terminated ill! How many are innocent and holy in youth and give every promise of splendid manhood, but fade and drop, like poisoned flowers, ere the age of maturity has dawned! How many are able to pa.s.s through the most critical period of their lives, unshaken and undefiled, full of faith, hope, love, purity; but who, when the age of security is thought to have come, lose the grip which seemed so firm, turn to evil, yield to vicious habits, and die reprobates of G.o.d! Look at King Solomon! Who was ever more promising than he in his youth? Who ever gave fairer prospects of continued holiness and of a beautiful end? He was so lovely, so amiable, so favored of G.o.d in the morning of life; graced with such high perfections, not knowing evil, a stranger to vice, a lover of sanct.i.ty, of wisdom, and of grace. It would seem that he could never fall-he who was the object of such unwonted favors, who dwelt so supremely in the smile of Heaven. But lo, and behold the end of him who had received so many graces, who chose wisdom as his handmaid that he might be guided aright! Behold that youthful figure, so full of promise and goodly hope, praying to G.o.d that he might never deviate from the ways of grace; and then see the gray-haired apostate tottering to the grave, borne down by the weight of his sins and of his years! And how many more there have been, like King Saul, like Renan and Voltaire, and numerous others that we ourselves perhaps have known, who were great and good in youth, and for a term of years, but whose end was a miserable failure!

Our perseverance, then, or the favor to die in the state of grace, is not of ourselves, not the reward of our efforts, or of our good works, "but of G.o.d that sheweth mercy." We must do all in our power to merit eternal life; we must press on to the mark, waging ceaseless battle in behalf of G.o.d and of our souls, even to the last moment; but for the happy end of it all we must perforce rely on the tender mercy of G.o.d. This is why our Lord, before He departed from earth, prayed to His heavenly Father for His disciples: "Holy Father, keep them in Thy name whom Thou hast given me; ... I pray not that thou shouldst take them out of the world; but that thou shouldst keep them from evil."(75) This same truth the Psalmist also had in mind when he prayed: "Perfect thou my goings in thy paths, that my footsteps be not moved."(76)

It is this appalling uncertainty about the end and outcome of life, together with our own inability to make them secure, that makes death so terrible to the minds and thoughts of mult.i.tudes, even of Christians and well-living persons. They fear to fall into the hands of the living G.o.d.

For them the present life may be not so attractive; on the contrary, it is likely replete with pain and toil; but somehow they wish to linger here, preferring that which is certain, although so miserable, to that which is doubtful, perhaps awful and irreparable. So long as they continue in this present world there is chance for change, there is hope of improvement.

But when death intervenes, and the soul is removed to the other life, all hopes of change are swept away, and the lot of the soul is fixed for eternity. There is, of course, a fear of death which is altogether natural. Many dread death who pretend not to believe in a future life, or even in the existence of G.o.d. And many there are whose lives are holy, and who have not whereof they ought to fear, but for whom, nevertheless, the very thought of death is fraught with all manner of terrors. As some are naturally afraid in the absence of light, and tremble with fear at being alone in a dark and lonely dwelling, or spot, or place, so there are many who, without a.s.signable reason, other than a native tendency, are appalled at the thought of death.

But when all due allowances have been made for the uncertainty of final perseverance, and for the anxiety arising from natural temperament, it seems not too much to say that, for the most part, the fear and dread of death which haunts so many Christians can be reduced to two causes: a defect of faith or a love of the world. It is one of these causes, or both of them together, which alone can explain, in the majority of cases, why such numbers of Christians and Catholics are unwilling to surrender the present life, and are disturbed at the very thought of dying. Either they do not realize by faith the surpa.s.sing glories of the life beyond-doubting its reality, questioning its nature, misunderstanding the goodness and mercy of G.o.d; or else they are so attached to the present existence that all serious thought and desire for a better life are excluded from their minds and hearts. Fenelon says that the condition of our spiritual life is indicated by the answers we give to the following questions: "Do I love to think of G.o.d? Am I willing to suffer for G.o.d? Does my desire to be with Him destroy my fear of death?" We do not fear to meet or to be with one whom we really love, for "love casteth out fear." There is no dread at the coming of the parent or friend whom we truly love, unless, perchance, we have offended him, and lack full faith that we have been forgiven and reinstated in his favor and friends.h.i.+p.

So it is with G.o.d. If we are unwilling to meet Him, or filled with fear at the approach of His coming, it seems of a certainty that our faith is at fault. Why should we not wish to meet Him who has made us, who loves us, who has washed away our sins with His own blood, who alone can comfort our trembling souls and fill us with every good? Perhaps we have sinned and betrayed our Maker many times and grievously in our lives, and the voices of those sins are haunting us, and bidding us beware of the hour of death and of the judgment that follows. Perhaps there is a lurking suspicion that we have not been forgiven, a temptation that we are not sincere, a feeling that our sins are too grave to be pardoned, a conviction that we do not belong to the company of the elect. We may have notions, moreover, altogether severe, of the nature of G.o.d and of His justice; we feel His immensity and sanct.i.ty, we have heard so much of His ineffable beauty, that, weighed down with a sense of our nothingness, of our poverty and misery and sinfulness, we cannot but shudder at the thought of appearing in His presence. These and similar terrors may take hold of us and fill us with a dread of death; but is it not clear that, whatever their cause, these fears are born of a lack of faith? We do not trust, as we ought, the Shepherd that loves us, we are not convinced of His mercy and kindness, if we do not believe with child-like confidence that He stands ready ever to forgive and bless the least of His children that humbly and sincerely seek Him, asking for the help they need. The severity of G.o.d toward sinners endures only so long as they refuse to acknowledge their guilt. His harshness with them, like that of Joseph with his brethren, is but love in disguise; and as soon as they are brought to own their guilt, that which before was the anger of G.o.d is swiftly turned into His love and mercy.

Christ did not come to destroy, but to save. He will not crush the broken reed, nor extinguish the smoking flax.(77) "As a father hath compa.s.sion on his children, so hath the Lord compa.s.sion on them that fear him; for he knoweth our frame, he remembereth that we are dust."(78)

But there is also the love of the world, which enslaves so many. So numerous and so bewitching are the attractions of the present life that they are loath to leave them. It is a beautiful world, this universe of ours, so deep, so wide, so vast! It is filled with pleasures and allurements and graced with myriad charms; and he, indeed, seems cold of heart who can easily turn from its enchanting beauties, and close his ear to its manifold voices. Ponder for a moment the richness of nature, its similarity and variety, its sameness and its diversity; consider the abundance of the harvest-the glowing fruits, the green and golden crops, the sweet-scented flowers and gift-bearing gra.s.ses; see the stars above and the waters beneath-all the wonders of earth and sky; and then when you have ranged over fields and waves and mountains, when you have climbed up the steeps of the sky and gazed on the marvels of the heavens, descend again to earth and consider the human form-the chiefest work of the Almighty hand, and the crown of the natural world. What beauties are here concealed! What a mingling of material and spiritual, of human and almost divine! What words can express, what lines portray the beauty of the human countenance? Who can describe or adequately define the loveliness that streams from human eyes, or echoes from the human voice? And yet these are but the outer fringes and dimmest glimpses of the beauties of the soul that dwells within.

How painful, then, it is for the worldly to forsake the beauties and pleasures of this present life. Bound down to their beds of clay by the things of sense, they are grieved to part with a life so full of diverse attractions. How can they think undismayed of closing forever their eyes and ears to these charms of color and sound! It is such a difficult thing, and so hard to nature, to abandon these scenes of enticing pleasure, to bid farewell to those that are dear and be hurried away alone and forlorn to the chill and gloom of the grave.

So reason the children of the world; but are not their reasonings and feelings a proof of their little faith, and of their poor conceptions of spiritual and eternal interests? They do not want to leave the world, because they love it; and they love the world, because their faith is too weak to raise them to a vision of higher things. The plain on which they stand is too low clearly to see the things of Heaven. How poor and trifling at best is the earth and all it contains to Him who beholds with a vivid faith the world above that is to come! How gladly does he lay down his life and give up the struggle with ceaseless battles, who sees by faith, just beyond the portals of death, the great home of the blessed, spread out like a city on the mountains, bathed in light inaccessible, full of joy and unending gladness, where "death shall be no more, nor mourning, nor crying, nor sorrow shall be any more."(79)

The man of faith, therefore, is in no wise straightened or disturbed by the approach of death. He has learned to know and to trust the good Master whom he serves. Like the Apostle, he is only concerned that Christ should be glorified in him at all times and in all things, "whether it be by life or by death;" for to him also, "to live is Christ, and to die is gain."(80) He lives in the world, but is not of it; he treads the ways of earth, but he really belongs to the kingdom above. Hence his cup of interior peace is ever running over. Though surrounded by many evils, he does not faint; though tempted exceedingly, he does not yield; but is joyous and peaceful withal; because at all times and in all things he feels himself to be the faithful servant of G.o.d, "in much patience, in tribulation, in necessities, in distresses, in strifes, in prisons, in seditions, in labors, in watchings, in fastings, in chast.i.ty, in knowledge, in long-suffering, in sweetness, in the Holy Ghost, in charity unfeigned; ... as dying, and yet living; as chastised, and not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as needy, yet enriching many; as having nothing, yet possessing all things."(81)

"Precious in the sight of G.o.d is the death of His Saints." As they have lived for Christ, they gladly welcome the summons that calls them home to rest. Calmly and fearlessly they go down to death; joyously and with feelings of exultation they hail the coming of Him on whom their thoughts have rested throughout life, of Him whom they have ever seen by faith, whom they have loved, whom they have trusted, whom they have chosen for their own. Confident of the power and goodness of their faithful Shepherd, pain daunts them not, the enemy frets them not. The last hour for them is not one of darkness, but of light; it is not a time for lamentations, but for joyous and gladsome strains. The end may be sudden, or it may be gradual in its approach; it may come early, or late in life; it may be at home or abroad; it may be in the winter, or it may be in summer; on the sea or on the land; but to the just and spiritual it can never be a surprise, it can never be lonely, never sad. It is the time for which they have always longed-a time of liberation, of emanc.i.p.ation from the trammels of earth and flesh, the end of continuous dying and the beginning of lasting life. What a supreme moment, what a joyous event is death for a just and holy soul! What sweet emotions must thrill the spirit, as the Saviour stoops over the bed of death to wipe away forever the last of earthly tears! Mary is there to hush the voice of reproach and to whisper words of peace; Jesus has come to claim the soul and take it to Himself, and flights of angels are waiting to sing it to its rest.

XI. SURELY GOODNESS AND MERCY SHALL FOLLOW ME ALL THE DAYS OF MY LIFE; AND I SHALL DWELL IN THE HOUSE OF THE LORD UNTO LENGTH OF DAYS.

If the tender lambs and timid sheep of the shepherd's flock could speak the sentiments of their innocent hearts, each one would certainly voice the words which here the Psalmist has uttered for them all. Throughout the live-long day, throughout all the days of their lives, they experience the shepherd's goodness, they are the objects of his constant mercy. He has been caring for them since their birth; he has led them out each morning, since first they were able to walk; he has provided them with food, and led them to water; and he has ever been present to s.h.i.+eld them from harm, and to protect them from their enemies. After such repeated experiences and trials of his loving-kindness, they have grown accustomed to his faithfulness and are filled with love of his goodness and mercy. And while they have not the power of speech, and cannot by words express their feelings, they do by the louder voice of action-by their quiet trust in his care, by their habitual mildness and gentleness and quick response to his every word, by the absence of solicitude and fear in view of his presence-by these and all the other actions that speak their simple hearts they show their love for their shepherd. Though often wounded and bleeding and exhausted from the roughness and length of their journeys, they have no distrust about the future, no fear for the morrow. In the midst of distress the shepherd, they know, will provide. The Psalmist, therefore, in the closing words of the shepherd song, gives utterance to the feelings of the sheep when he sings: "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord unto length of days."

But here, as in the opening verse of the Shepherd Psalm, the words of the sacred Singer, although truly expressive of the sentiments of the sheep, are more directly the expression of his own inner feelings, and of the feelings of all faithful souls towards the Lord who rules and guides them.

All those whose lives have been really and sincerely led by faith, have, like the shepherd's flock, grown trustfully accustomed, in the course of years, to the goodness and mercy, to the faithfulness and love of the hand that provides for them. As they look into their lives, and retrace the steps they have taken, they cannot fail to see how G.o.d has been always with them, patiently enduring their faults, mercifully binding up their wounds and hurts, and lovingly leading, drawing them to Himself. They can see their advancement, slow perhaps as it has been; and they know it is G.o.d who has given the increase. Looking now at their lives through the perspective of the years that are gone, how many problems they are able to solve! for how many apparent mysteries they have found an explanation! All those crosses and trials, all those struggles and battles with the enemy, all those attacks from within and a.s.saults from without, all, in fact, that they have ever endured, their sins alone excepted, they now can trace, through the light of faith, back to the hand of their Father in Heaven. Not everything, forsooth, has yet been explained, but enough, indeed, is sufficiently clear to remove every doubt from the faithful soul as to the goodness and Providence of G.o.d. And hence she exclaims with the Psalmist, out of the abundance of her faith and confidence, "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

It is doubtless a lack of implicit trust in G.o.d and divine Providence which, more than anything else, accounts for the unhappiness and spiritual barrenness of so many Christian and religious lives. Poor and scanty is the fruit they yield, simply because they have no depth of soil, they are not deeply and firmly rooted in faith and confidence in G.o.d. Like reeds shaken by the wind, like houses built on the sand, they tremble and shake with every blast, they are all but overturned by every tempest that rises.

Nor is it wonderful that this should be so. The higher gifts of the spirit come from G.o.d, and hence the good fruit which the spirit yields is also traceable back to Him. "We do not gather grapes from thorns nor figs from thistles; and as a good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, so neither can an evil tree bring forth good fruit."(82) And just because the abundance of the harvest of the spiritual life is dependent upon G.o.d as its giver, is it strange that any distrust of Him and His Providence should be a great hindrance to the soul's advancement, and to the bestowal of the constant help it needs? Can G.o.d be pleased with those who do not confide in Him, and who do not trust Him? Our Lord's own chiding words to His disciples are a proof of His displeasure at any distrust in His power and goodness. How often did He rebuke them for their want of confidence in Him! How often did He accuse them reproachfully of their "little faith,"(83) of being "slow of heart,"(84) of being an "unbelieving and perverse generation!"(85) He was constantly pointing to their lack of faith, reminding them that it was the source of their weakness, the cause of their ignorance in things spiritual, the reason of their powerlessness in the face of difficulties and against the enemies of their souls. It is clear that Almighty G.o.d, being a generous and loving Father, must be offended at those of His children who do not trust Him; and their want of faith in Him is consequently the reason for His denying to them the help which is the life of their souls, and without which they are powerless to be useful servants in His vineyard.

And this failure to confide in the goodness of G.o.d betrays itself in other ways. Besides sealing up the fountains of special graces and closing the door on divine generosity, besides a general unfruitfulness in the spiritual life, and the lack of all greater works for G.o.d and for souls, which are its immediate consequences, it also penetrates into the interior sanctuary of the spirit, and weakens at their source the springs of spiritual action. The results are manifest. Not only is there no yielding of fruit, but growth is likewise wanting. And if, under fairer conditions, there has ever been any progress, it is soon perceived to wither and wane in a soul devoid of living faith. All the exercises and practices of the Christian life partic.i.p.ate in the baneful effects. Prayer and the use of the sacraments are either seriously neglected or gradually given up, and the blighting influences of irreligion rapidly spread and overrun all the departments of life. The view one takes of G.o.d, the faith or lack of faith and trust one has in Providence, have their effect on the character and give a direction to all one's ways of thinking, feeling, acting, in regard to the world we live in, in regard to mankind in general, in regard to the causes, purposes, and destinies of all things.

Our conceptions of Providence are vital, therefore. They really determine what our life is to be, and they are an index to the life that is finished. It is impossible that we should be quite the same whether we try to eliminate G.o.d from our lives, or allow His blessed influence to cheer and lead us on; whether we look upon Him as a cold Master, waiting to exact and to punish, or as a kind Father and Shepherd, seeking to spare and to save; whether we regard Him as hid far in the heavens, caring naught for the creatures and the world He has made, or whether we conceive Him as intimately bound up with all the works of His hands, although distinct from them, as guiding and regulating everything, as tenderly loving and providing for all the needs of our souls.

Another most harmful result of deficient faith and confidence in G.o.d is that it leads us to trust in creatures. It causes us to reverse the proper order of things. We are dependent beings, and we instinctively feel our deficiencies and the need of some one, or something on which to lean, at times, and to which we can look for a.s.sistance. We may not be entirely and always conscious of this tendency in us, we may be too proud or too blind to admit it, or we may wish we could overcome it and rid our lives of so constant a need; but whether we see it and acknowledge it or not, whether we encourage it or try to repress it, the need is always there, deeply engraved in our nature as creatures, and we cannot but seek to satisfy it.

There is none of us, frail beings that we are, who is entirely sufficient unto himself. Sometimes, of course, the voice of our needs is silent, and we feel that we shall never want; "I said in my abundance," observes the Psalmist, "I shall not be moved forever;"(86) but when the tide begins to ebb and prosperity subsides, how soon do we remember that we are dust! How frequently in times of trouble, in times of illness and poverty and suffering, when face to face with our foes, or when death steps in and slaughters, are we made aware of our insufficiency, and of our utter helplessness to live our lives alone and meet single-handed the burdens and misfortunes of earth! It takes but a little frost to nip the root of all our greatness, and then when our high-blown pride breaks under us we quickly realize how fragile and insecure are the personal foundations of our lives. Naturally and reasonably, therefore, did the pagan philosophers conclude that friends.h.i.+p and friends were necessary to man.

Profoundly aware of this fundamental need of help and support which is a result of our nature, we habitually stretch out our hands to others, not only during the years of infancy and childhood, but to a greater or less extent throughout the whole period of our earthly existence. At first, of course, it is to creatures that we necessarily look-to parents, relatives, guardians, teachers, and later on, to friends and acquaintances. Our needs in the beginning and in early years, though many and imperative, are comparatively simple; they can be satisfied by those around us. But as we advance to maturity and take in more completely the meaning of our lives, and consider not so much the needs of the body as the demands of the soul, we find that the multiple requirements of infancy and youth, which were able to be supplied by those that were near, have given way to the fewer, but vast and unlimited, claims of age, which express the wants of the spirit. It is when we appeal to creatures for the complete and permanent satisfaction of these latter necessities of our being, that we seriously err, and open the way to disappointment and sorrow. Not that we are to have no cherished and chosen friends, or that we should despise the needs and gifts, the privileges and blessings of friends.h.i.+p, which in truth our nature requires; nor again that we are to regard with skeptical, disdainful eyes the world and human nature; but we must not deceive ourselves by trying to find in any created being that which it does not possess. We must not endeavor to get from any creature that perfect satisfaction which we need, and which the Creator alone can give. Neither must we seek to fill the unlimited capacity of our souls with those gifts only, poor and defective at best, which frail mortals like ourselves are able to supply. It is folly in the highest degree to expect from anyone less than G.o.d that which only G.o.d can afford.

The mistake, therefore, is made when creatures of any kind are allowed to take the place of G.o.d; when they are sought and reposed in as an end in themselves, and as sufficient satisfaction for the needs of the human spirit. Unwise, indeed, is this mode of action, and bitter are the sorrows of soul to which it inevitably leads! One man trusts in riches, another in glory, another in the esteem of men; one leans upon his friends and companions, another upon his relatives-all forgetful of the frail and unsubstantial nature of every earthly prop. Frequently they never awaken to the peril of their state until they find themselves face to face with their doom and the awful disillusionment. The crash may be delayed, but the day must come sooner or later for all of us, who have advanced but a little beyond maturity, when all the natural lights of life go out, when every human prop is removed, and we find ourselves out alone and in the dark, so far as depends on the world and creatures. How miserable then shall we be if we have put our trust in men! if we have tried to make creatures play the part in our lives which only G.o.d can play! When we need them most they fail us, when we fain would find beneath their protection a s.h.i.+eld against the fiery darts of life, behold they wither like the ivy of Jonas and leave us alone in our want!(87) How vain, therefore, and groundless is that confidence which is put in men, and how wretched that poor man that hangs on princes' favors! "Thou trustest in money," says St.

Augustine, "thou holdest to vanity; thou trustest in honor, and in some eminence of human power, thou holdest to vanity; thou trustest in some princ.i.p.al friend, thou holdest to vanity. When thou trustest in all these things, either thou diest and leavest them here, or in thy lifetime they all perish, and thou failest in thy trust."(88)

It is no despisal, then, of the needs and helps of earthly friends and of our fellow-creatures to say that we should not put entire trust in them for all the wants and demands of our being. They are good, they were made by G.o.d, they are oftentimes able to a.s.sist us-nay, we need them to a certain extent; but they are utterly unable to satisfy us completely, they cannot if they would, simply because of the extent of our wants. And even if creatures could give us a partial contentment, as at times they seem to do, we know that it cannot last, and in the midst of our joy and pleasure we are haunted by the thought that some day, soon at latest, it all must pa.s.s away. We are seeking for rest, for peace, for happiness, and that unending; we want something to steady our lives and satisfy the yearnings of our souls forever: but we must not look for these things in the world, for the world at best is pa.s.sing away. There is no stability to human things; the cloud and the storm swiftly follow the suns.h.i.+ne; we have not here below a lasting habitation. Today we are sitting at the banquet of pleasure, tomorrow we are draining the cup of sorrow; today we receive the applause of men, tomorrow we may be the objects of their scorn; today we put forth the tender leaves of hope, tomorrow there comes a killing frost that ruins all our prospects.

Such, then, is the lot of man when considered in his relations to creatures and to the world. It is a lot full of uncertainty, of instability, of vicissitude; but this should not make us skeptical or cynical; it affords no justification for pessimism. It is a condition arising, on the one hand, from the very nature of limited beings, and on the other, from the vast potentialities of our souls, which, while they are limited in giving to others, cannot be appeased except by the G.o.d who made them. There is a craving in the heart of man for something which the world cannot give. He clutches for the things that are pa.s.sing, he toils, he labors, he struggles; he strives for money, for power, for place, for honor, not that any of these things are in themselves what he desires, but only because he conceives them as means and helps to the satisfaction, to the stillness of mind, and peace of heart, and rest of soul and body for which his nature longs. Peace and happiness and contentment of life are the objects of all our dreams, of our persistent efforts, of our ambitions and aims; but until we give up the hope of finding these things in the world, in our fellow-mortals, in anything short of G.o.d, we shall never know the blessedness for which we yearn. If we would ever attain to the state which we covet, we must learn the lesson, even though it be through tears and sorrow, that G.o.d alone, who made our souls with all their vast desires, is able to comfort us and steady our lives amid the storms and distresses of earth.