The Sermons of Johannes Tauler · 25 of 124
Sermon for Ash Wednesday
Convert us, O Lord, to Thee, and we shall be converted. — Lamentations v, 21.
God is very pitiful of poor human nature, and He never ceases His endeavors to convert us, always looking out for our acceptance of His loving invitations. Some He calls by such visitations as sickness or poverty, or the like misfortunes; others He would draw to Him by the teaching and example of good men; some by His interior admonitions; some by force, as in St. Paul’s case; now it is a severe way; again it is a gentle way that He uses to arouse men’s consciences.
As to what hinders men’s turning to God, we notice three things: Love of this transitory existence, greediness for worldly possessions, and desire of sensual indulgence. For some are infatuated by the honors of this world and set their hearts on temporal riches, so that they may gratify the lusts of the flesh. After they have persisted a while in this wickedness, they become hard-hearted and unresponsive to grace, even ready to undergo any toil or suffering to satisfy their passions. St. Gregory bids us look at the example of the people of Israel: They yearned for the flesh-pots of Egypt, which they had enjoyed only after most painful labor. They preferred this, with slavery, to the heavenly bread God gave them in the wilderness, full of every sweetness. Ah, my dear children, how sad a lesson is this! God had lovingly led this people out from bondage, showing forth for their sake His great power, way and again in another. Until, at last, our loving Lord became impatient with them, and scourged them with serpents and with fire, and gave them over to the will of their enemies. And of all those who had journeyed into the wilderness, He allowed but two to enter the land that He had promised them.
Ah, how many are there among us, whom God with all power and mercy has delivered from the slavery of sin and evil habits and led toward a true conversion, so that we might lead a Godly life, according to His teaching and His Son’s example! And we have but put on an appearance of conversion, outwardly doing things that might make one think that in all truth we were sincerely turned away from our former vicious practices. But how pitiful it is that this is all outward show. Inwardly we still long for the flesh-pots, secretly and weakly yielding to our bodily appetites, and if these enjoyments are now less accessible than before, we give ourselves up to murpiurings wholly unworthy of religious men. And what is yet worse, we will not be content with the worldly goods that belong to our state of life, but whatever luxuries we hear of the rich enjoying, we, poor beggars, must crave to possess. Nothing pleases us. Our heavenly Father feeds and clothes and shelters our bodies; He gives our souls sweet and nourishing spiritual food — all in vain. He cannot win our love; we will not give ourselves up to Him in a deep and true conversion. But, on the contrary, we become too often a scandal to our brethren by our perverse discontent. And as we read that God destroyed from the earth certain leaders of the discontented Israelites, so does He sometimes similarly act among us.
These are often no better than openly wicked men, as is shown if you cross their will. They seem to be really possessed and driven onward, in their evil course, by Satan. Sometimes it happens that they get all that they want and rest quite satisfied with their success; and that is a plain sign of their final loss; the evil one has been given entrance, their hearts are hardened. No real peace or joy can be theirs, however, for their souls are sick with sin, and the enemy casts his fatal net about them. But let them make a mighty effort — naught else will suffice; let
Satan’s slavery; and thus, with hearts full of contrition, let them return again to God’s service.
Alas, my dear children! What can we say of our conversion to God nowadays? It is for the most part only in external signs. Taking us all in all, we are like the fig tree that the Lord cursed: We bear leaves, indeed, but not fruit — not more than one in a hundred is a thoroughly converted man. We are self-seekers; we enjoy all sorts of material conveniences and the pleasures of this life, sometimes more abundantly than if we were still living among worldlings; for those who live in the outer world must, with all their luxuries, suffer besides many anxieties. We have become so spiritually enfeebled, that we have no will to suffer pain of any kind. If we can but imagine a new comfort, we must forthwith have it. If the superiors of the community will not give it, then we go to our friends and relatives outside. Complaints by letters and by word of mouth, every species of endeavor for a soft and easy life — all this goes on endlessly. Alas! shall we never ask ourselves why we came into religion? Shall we forever remain in this childish self-indulgence? But we now conclude our lament over this sad state of things, lest it should detain us the whole day long.
There are three things that make sin a most detestable evil. The first is that offending God is monstrous and shameful — the only thing that can possibly be offensive to Him is sin. The man who lives in sin, if he would but look into his condition, would be overwhelmed with horror at the intolerable and disgraceful state he has brought his soul into. The second is the shortness of the sinner’s time — the swift approach of his death. The third is the horror that must fill him at the thought of the eternal death of his soul in hell. As to the reasons for a sinner’s conversion, they are one of these three: His sins grievously afflict him because he dreads eternal damnation; or because he begins to long for the happiness of Heaven; or because his heart is touched at the thought of God’s infinite love for him. These are the inner sources of all conversion to God.
The sinner recalls to his mind the principles of his Christian faith: There is a God, and He is all powerful and all just, and the dread of His judgment fills the sinner’s soul with anguish. And, again, his faith
This lights the holy fires of love and of gratitude in his heart, and he longs for the privilege of eternally serving and loving so good a God. When this noble sentiment inspires him, neither the fire of hell nor the joys of Heaven are the motives of his repentance. The fire of love devours every other feeling, and carries every thought upward into union with the Divine will. It is to heavenly love that he turns as the one source of all his happiness. And herein is found love rightly so called. The other two motives of conversion — fear of hell and longing for Heaven — have some mixture of self-love in them, and are not so pleasing to God as the third. Let us now consider each of these three motives more in detail.
Three kinds of men are converted by fear of hell. The first kind fear its pains taken by themselves, without fearing the God whose penalties they are. These are gross and bad natures, and if they should die with no better mind than this, they cannot be saved. The fear of death, sure to come, but the time of it never known beforehand, haunts them and tortures them with inward anguish, and finally drives them to repentance and reform of life. Feeling that the ordinary life of this world is too dangerous for them, these men sometimes enter religious communities. And their fatal error is that they think that if they but refrain from mortal sin in their holy order, they will surely escape eternal loss; that is the whole basis of their conduct, namely, to avoid mortal sin. All sorts of venial faults, however, they do not dream of avoiding, and have no sorrow whatever for committing them. Nor do they for a moment think it necessary to atone for their past mortal sins by truehearted works of penance. No desire to advance in the practice of virtue actuates them, the reason being that there is little love in their souls. When they go to confession and perform the penance imposed on them, they think that they may now dismiss the fear of hell, and that gives them content. They thus continue cold and slothful, vain, neglectful, and frivolous, self-indulgent and ever seeking after superfluities; consulting their personal advantage in everything, only limited in careless living by the need of keeping up good appearances. Interiorly their thoughts and affections are ruled by self-will and pride, holding them back against all generous impulses, meantime showing an
They sit in judgment on other men, pointing out their defects very freely, and this they do by way of justifying their own. Such, then, are the characteristics in heart and in conduct of this class of souls. They are, nevertheless, on their guard against committing mortal sins, and yet ere they are well aware of it they fall into them most miserably.
Such men, all content as they are with an exterior conversion to God, are, as we have said, found in some religious communities and are an intolerable burden to them. The fervent members would rather have savage lions and bears living among them. It is by their means that our mortal enemy, the devil, can work his purposes, for in reality they are his slaves, no matter how many holy vestments they may wear. But, as they are very unstable of purpose, it is always doubtful whether or not they will continue in the community. The evil one keeps them in or sends them out, as suits his ends. If it happens that they return to right reason and would then wish to remain in the convent, they soon begin to realize, that they run as much risk of grave sin and of an unhappy death in a religious community, as they did when living in the world. Then they grow doubtful and undecided, exceedingly impatient and distressed. And now if they have no friends who will plead for them with God, none to help rescue them, they will surely fall into deadly sins, and will finally forsake their devout associates. They say to themselves: When I was in the world and in my sins, I had at least good hopes of salvation by entering a religious community; but now that I am bad in spite of these holy surroundings, what is to become of me? Some of them, fallen thus into despair and mistrusting God’s goodness, leave the community, and are immediately sunken into their former vicious conduct; for they are too proud to reveal their temptations to anyone, and thus they act hastily and without good counsel. And now they go on from bad to worse, they rush headlong into the embrace of the enemy of their souls, giving themselves up to every evil propensity, at first secretly, but soon openly, until some of them are beside themselves with the resistless torrent of their vices and temptations. It may be that they escape the very worst consequences of their sinfulness and receive the sacraments at the point of death; but at the elevate their motives. Meantime they bring no shame on a devout community, nor inflict any injury on its religious observance. It is a mighty and a difficult task to change such creatures into men of interior spirit* And now if this is the sad condition of men who would, indeed, keep out of grave sin, but yet only half-heartedly, what must we think of those unhappy souls who constantly wallow in wickedness, and never give a thought to repentance?
The other class of men not only fear hell, but they have a lively dread of the fires of purgatory. They, indeed, avoid mortal sin very carefully, but they go beyond that; they diligently avoid committing venial faults* They sigh and weep over their former wickedness; they do painful penance. And yet if they die in no better state of virtue than this, they will suffer a long and painful purgatory, for they have so far been actuated only by self-love and not purely by the love of God. Yet we must know that their purgation will be a hundred times less painful than that of the cowardly sohls above described. But how much better is it to do penance out of love and not by constraint of fear only! The souls we are now describing have not been loyal in all single-heartedness to the Supreme Good that God is; their inspiration has not been a puremotived trust in the goodness and sufferings and merits of the Son of God. This lack of whole-heartedness they must painfuly make up in purgatory; that done and over, they shall be introduced into the second choir of the blessed spirits of Heaven. And one reason why they are a hundred fold more generously rewarded than the others, is because they have left edifying examples of virtue to their neighbor.
The third class not only fear the pains of hell and purgatory, but they earnestly purpose to go straight to God without any purgatory at all*
They, therefore, dread and avoid not alone grave sins, not alone venial sins — our daily petty transgressions — but they anxiously watch against the very least imperfections. How earnestly do they not strive that the searching fires of purgatory shall find no material in them upon which to feed! To the very best of their power they conquer depraved nature, now by penitential exercises, again by accepting thankfully all painful happenings, and also by applying themselves to every sort of good works. These are more pleasing to God than the former class. And yet they, too, must suffer purgatory, for there has been a mixture of self-love in their motives. Their only and all-controlling motive was not God’s honor. But their purgatory shall be much shorter, because real love has had a place in their virtuous lives. When their purgatory is done and over they shall be enrolled in the third choir of angels; namely, those that are specially called the Powers or virtues, for they have labored hard to overcome their self-indulgence. Hence their place is higher than that of the others. So far we have been considering only the first degree of conversion to God — that of souls moved by some sort of fear or anxiety for themselves. Of all of these it may be said that they enter into external bliss by the left-hand gate of Heaven.
Another class of men are converted to God by desire of eternal glory, and these enter Heaven by the right-hand gate. They are in general of a naturally joyous disposition. To them the joys of eternal life are a more powerful inducement to virtue than the pains of eternal loss. If the happiness of this transitory life, they say, is so sweet, what must be the everlasting bliss of Heaven? Such thoughts draw them away from earthly pleasure. They readily forget the allurements of the world, and soon begin to serve God earnestly, moved by nobler motives than the other classes we have considered, whose primary motive is fear. Once they have turned to God and have joined a religious community, or entered some other worthy Christian state, they advance immediately in virtue. They not only avoid all sin, whether mortal or venial, but they eagerly embrace every opportunity of serving God, determined to become perfect. As to heavy labors or deep afflictions, nothing of all this can hinder them, for they are ever absorbed in the thought of eternity. They are very receptive of Divine grace, and grow more and more so every day; and if they persevere until death, they are given a place among a yet higher choir of the heavenly spirits; this is the reward of their great earnestness. And yet they do not entirely escape the pains of purgatory, for they have sought their own happiness rather out of this imperfect condition, it will be by means of temptations manfully resisted, and sufferings patiently endured. Only these sore trials can reveal to them how much they have sought themselves, and how unconsciously they have forgotten God as the one only motive of their lives. Their painful probation must be long and wearisome. It is a tiresome and interminable task to leave oneself, to renounce self incessantly. It is indescribably hard to love God above one’s own self, and to love one’s neighbor as one’s self; that is to say, in the meaning of those words when applied to a perfect life. But if they approach this state closely, and die in the full ardor of this love, then are they enrolled in the fifth angelic choir, that of the Principalities. Still, even these must suffer some small detention in purgatory, for their love is hardly quite and entirely pure.
If before death they progress yet further in God’s righteousness, suf’ fering many miseries and the contempt of men in a yet greater degree, and with motives still more purified, until at last they are unmoved by any and all pains and temptations, and if they finally are able completely to renounce all selfhood, all spirit of proprietorship, O, how happy are they! Penance is perfected; peace reigns supreme; they are masters of all temptations. And at death they are introduced into that choir of the angels called the Dominations.
The third kind of conversion is that of souls who realize how very good God has been to them, all undeserving as they are. A powerful impulse of gratitude possesses them, and an admirable yearning to serve God perfectly and forevermore. Not knowing what to do that God may best be honored by them, they cry out to God in deep anguish of heart, saying, with St. Paul: “Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?” Acts ix, 6.) Ah, how gladly would I know Thy will, what I am to do or suffer or give up for Thy sake! O, grant me that knowledge, for I promise Thee that I will not spare myself any trial or pain to fulfill Thy purpose! Hell has no terrors for such souls, Heaven has no joys, until they know God’s designs with them. Deep sorrow they have for their sins, yet not on account of the pains of hell, but out of downright love of God — that love to which they know they once were faithless. They cannot forget their past infidelity to so good a God, and they are at a loss to find penances severe enough to offer in atonement. They even imagine that if they had God’s power over themselves, they would
God will not condemn them to any punishment in purgatory whatsoever, for the reason that they have so upright a purpose to condemn themselves with absolute justice, doing penance to the uttermost limit of their ability. If such a man had been guilty of the sins of all other men put together, God would forgive him everything the instant he had attained this state of perfect love. If he dies in these dispositions, we repeat that he shall have no purgatory, but shall be quickly transported into the seventh choir of the angelic host, that of the Thrones, for he is become, indeed, a throne of God and a vessel of election.
But, supposing these men to make yet further progress in holy love before death, then they are placed among the Cherubim. They can praise God with the prophet: “My heart is ready, O God; my heart is ready.” (Ps. lvi, 8.) I am ready for joy or sorrow, to do or leave undone, according to Thy will — everything for Thy will and nothing for mine, in time and in eternity. And if death is yet further postponed, and such a soul makes yet greater progress in Divine love, then is he fit for the company of even the Seraphim. He exclaims, with St. Paul: “Who shall deliver me from the body of this death” (Rom. vii, 241, that I may live with Christ? As to their neighbor, such men say with the same apostle, and in all sincerity: “I wished myself to be an anathema from Christ for my brethren.” (Rom. ix, 3.) This refers to the fruit of Divine grace they would help their brethren to enjoy, even at their own expense, and it is a disinterestedness of soul exceedingly pleasing to God. For now God, seeing them so ready to advance His kingdom in men’s hearts, descends into their own in a most intimate union, so that the apostle’s words may be made their own: “And I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me.” (Gal. ii, 20.) May God grant us to be thus converted. Amen.