Sermon X. On the Spiritual Ointments

"Smelling sweet of the best ointments."

My brethren, I cannot pretend to such profundity of understanding or to such perspicacity of genius as would enable me to discover anything new for myself. But in the mouth of St. Paul, which is always open to us, I find a full and ever-flowing fountain. As very often on other occasions, so now also in explaining the breasts of the Spouse, I shall draw on its resources. "Rejoice with those who rejoice," says the great Apostle, "weep with those who weep." In these few words he expresses all the affections of a mother's heart. For little children know not how to be ill or well without their sickness or health being, through sympathy, shared in by her who brought them into the world. She cannot help being conformed in all things to her own flesh and blood. Wherefore, agreeably to the mind of St. Paul, I will take the two breasts of the Spouse to signify these two maternal affections, naming one Compassion and the other Congratulation or Sympathy with joy. For if the Spouse does not as yet possess such feelings, does not as yet exhibit these breasts, is not- as yet conscious of a readiness to "rejoice with those that rejoice" and to "weep with those that weep," she is still but "a little one" and immature. Should a soul so defective be appointed to the government of others, or to the office of preaching, she will do no good to her neighbour, but infinite evil

8q to herself. But how recklessly bold and lost to shame should one of this kind be to thrust herself uncalled into such functions!

But let us return to the breasts of the Spouse, and to each let us assign its own peculiar kind of milk. I say, then, that Congratulation yields the milk of encouragement, Compassion that of consolation. Both species the spiritual mother feels flowing abundantly into her loving heart from the heavenly source whenever she obtains the kiss of divine contemplation. You may see her immediately afterwards with full breasts giving suck to her children, distilling from the one breast a wealth of consolation, and from the other a plenteous stream of salutary exhortation, according as the various needs of the little ones may appear to demand. For example, should she notice that one of those whom she has begotten in Christ, is agitated by some violent temptation, and reduced thereby to such a state of perturbation, sadness, and pusillanimity as to be no longer capable of withstanding the enemy's onslaught, how she sympathises with him! how she soothes him! how she weeps over him! how she consoles him! how many arguments of piety does she not presently discover with which to lift him up out of his depression! But if, on the contrary, she observes him to be full of zeal and alacrity, and making good progress towards perfection, oh, then she is jubilant! she approaches him with salutary admonitions; she fans his zeal to brighter flame; she provides him as well as she can with the means of perseverance; she exhorts him to be ever striving towards higher sanctity. In this way does she accommodate herself to all. She transfers to herself the dispositions of all.

2 V And she shows herself to be the mother ot the Weak no less than of the fervent.

How many do we behold to-day actuated by feelings and dispositions very far from motherly! — I speak of those who have undertaken the government of souls. Rather it must be confessed, although with groans of misery, that they melt down in the furnace of their avarice, and fashion into things of traffic, and barter away for filthy lucre the reproaches of Christ, the spittings, the scourges, the nails, the lance, His cross, and His death, — all. And the price of this all, the world's ransom, they hasten to place in their purses! The only difference between prelates¹ of this character and the Iscariot is that, whereas he equated the value of all this merchandise with thirty (silver) pieces, they, on the contrary, influenced by a more griping greed of gain, endeavour to drive a better bargain by demanding an immeasurably higher price. After these profits they hunger with an insatiable appetite. When possessed, they are in fear lest they lose them, and they grieve for them when lost. In the love of them they rest, in so far, at least, as their anxiety to preserve and increase them is consistent with any rest. But for the loss or the salvation of souls, they have no concern. Most certainly, these are not true mothers, who, though they are "grown fat and thick and gross" out of the patrimony of the Crucified, yet feel no compassion for "the affliction of Joseph." The real mother makes herself known by her conduct. She has breasts and she keeps them full. She knows well how to "rejoice with those that rejoice and to weep with those that weep." Nor does she cease to extract the milk of exhortation from the breast of Congratulation, or the milk of consolation from the breast of Compassion. Concerning this milk and these breasts of the Spouse, I have now said enough.

I shall next endeavour to explain what these ointments are of which the breasts smell so sweetly, but only on condition that you, my brethren, by your prayers, shall obtain for me the double grace of conceiving worthy sentiments and of clothing them in suitable language, for the benefit of my hearers, that is, of yourselves. Of these ointments, some belong to the Bridegroom, others to the Bride, just as there are breasts also proper to each. I indicated, in the preceding discourse, the place where an exposition of the Bridegroom's ointments will be most properly given. Let us here consider those of the Bride, and that the more attentively on account of the high eulogium which Holy Scripture passes upon them, declaring them to be, not merely good, but the very best. And, first of all, I will set forth the various species of ointments, that out of all we may select those which most especially belong to the breasts of the Spouse. There is, then, the ointment of Contrition, there is the ointment of Devotion, and the ointment of Piety. The first is pungent, causing pain. The second is soothing, and tempers pain. The third is remedial, and banishes pain. I now proceed to discuss these separately.

There is, therefore, an ointment which the soul, burthened with sins, makes up for herself. This she does when, beginning to consider her ways, she collects, heaps up, and crushes in the mortar of conscience the many and various species of her sins; and in the crucible of a fervid heart, melts down and fuses all together, repentance and sorrow supplying the necessary heat. Hence she can now say with the Psalmist, "My heart grew hot within me, and in my meditation a fire shall flame out." Behold, this is the first ointment wherewith the sinful soul ought to anoint the beginnings of her conversion and soothe her bleeding wounds. For the first "sacrifice to God is an afflicted spirit." Hence as long as the poor and needy soul finds not wherewith to compound for herself a better and more precious ointment, let her not neglect to prepare this, even though it be from the vilest materials, because "a contrite and humble heart God will not despise." Besides, the more contemptible she appears in her own eyes, from the consideration of her past sins, the less so does she appear in the Eyes of God. And, after all, if that visible ointment, with which, as we read in the Gospel, the Lord's corporeal Feet were anointed by Magdalen, was but a figure of the invisible and spiritual kind of which there is question here, we certainly cannot consider this vile. For what is it we read of the former? "The house," writes the Evangelist, "was filled with the perfume of the ointment." It was poured by the hand of a sinner, and poured on the lowest members of the sacred Body, that is, on the Feet. Yet it was not so mean and contemptible but that it could fill the whole house with the scent of its spices and the sweetness of its perfumes. My brethren, if we could but realise what a fragrance of delight is exhaled throughout the Church by the conversion of a single sinner, and what an odour of life unto life the public and perfect penitent becomes, of him also we should proclaim with equal confidence that "the house was filled with the perfume of the ointment. "Nay, the perfume of penitence reaches even to the supernal mansions of the blessed above, so that as Truth Itself testifies, "There shall be joy amongst the angels of God over one sinner doing penance." Rejoice, therefore, ye penitents! Be comforted, ye that are fearful! I refer to you, who, recently converted from a worldly life and withdrawn from the ways of sin, have experienced the bitterness and confusion of a contrite heart, with an exceeding pain and torment, as it were of recent wounds. Let your hands distil with confidence the bitterness of myrrh in this saving unction, because "a contrite and humble heart God will not despise." Certainly, we are not to despise or to consider as vile such an anointing, the odour of which is a source of edification to men, and of joy to the angels.

But there is another ointment more precious than this in proportion as it is made from more excellent materials. We have not far to seek for the elements out of which we extract the ointment of Contrition. They are always within reach and found without difficulty. In the little gardens of our own consciences we can easily gather as much and as often as our necessities require. For, if we wish to be sincere, which of us has not always of his own enough of sins and iniquities ready to hand? And, as you know, these are the stuffs whence we obtain the first ointment, described above. But this earth of ours can never produce the spices that yield the second. "From afar and from the uttermost coasts" must we seek them, "for every best gift and every perfect gift is from above, descending from the Father of lights." This ointment, in fact, is extracted from the divine benefits bestowed on the human race. Happy the man who gathers them carefully, and, with worthy thanks, tries to keep them constantly before the eyes of his soul! When these sweet spices have been placed in the mortar of the breast, and crushed and pounded under the pestle of frequent meditation, and all fused together by the heat of holy desires, and finally mingled with the "oil of gladness," the result shall be, without any doubt, an ointment far more precious and excellent than the first. In proof of this, I need only quote the testimony of Him Who said, "The sacrifice of praise shall glorify Me." Now, this sacrifice will assuredly be offered by him who keeps in mind the benefits of God.

Moreover, since Holy Scripture merely affirms of the first ointment that it is not despised, whereas the second is said to give glory, the latter is manifestly the more highly commended. Again, this is applied to the Head, whilst the other is poured upon the Feet. Now, as in Christ the Head must be referred to the Divinity, according to the words of St. Paul, "The Head of Christ is God," doubtless he, who gives thanks, anoints the Head, seeing that thanks are offered not to man but to God. Not that He, Who is God, has not become Man, since "God and Man are one Christ," but because all good gifts, even such as are communicated through man, have their ultimate source, not in man, but in God. As we know, "it is the Spirit that quickeneth, the flesh profiteth nothing." Therefore is it written "cursed be the man that trusteth in man." For although it is true that we place our whole hope in the Man-God, nevertheless we do so not because He is Man, but because He is God. Therefore, the ointment of Contrition is poured on the Feet, since the lowliness of a contrite heart accords well with the humility of Christ's Human Nature; and that of Devotion is given to the Head, because honour belongs to Majesty. Behold, my brethren, what manner of ointment is this second I have proposed to you, with which, namely, that royal Head, Which makes the principalities tremble, does not disdain to be anointed, — nay even deems Itself honoured by the unction, according to the words, "The sacrifice of praise shall glorify Me."

Wherefore, it is not in the power of a poor and needy, that is, of a pusillanimous soul, to confect for herself this spiritual ointment. The spices or elements from which it is produced are only possessed by confidence, which is itself the offspring of liberty of spirit and purity of heart. For he that is diffident and weak in faith is restricted by the scantiness of his resources, and by reason of this poverty cannot spare time to devote himself to the praises of God, or to the consideration of the divine benefits which evokes these praises. And if ever such a one has the courage to endeavour to raise himself to this sublimity, domestic necessities and clamorous cares drag him down again directly, and he has perforce to confine himself once more within the narrow limits of his straitened circumstances. If you ask me the cause of such misery, I shall answer by pointing to what, if I do not mistake, you will recognise as existing, or, at least, as having existed in your own selves. This feebleness and diffidence of soul usually springs, as it seems to me, from one or other of two causes, namely, from newness of conversion, or, in the case of those who have been long in religion, from tepidity of life. Both the beginner and the lukewarm monk feel their souls oppressed, dejected, and disquieted, the former because of the sudden change of life involved in conversion, the latter because he perceives his old passions revived by his laxity, and the consequent necessity of devoting his energies again to the task of rooting out the briers and nettles that have sprung up anew in his interior garden, a work which will require his continual presence at home. For surely he who staggers under the burden of such penitential labours cannot at the same time delight himself in the praises of God. How can the mouth that is filled with groans and lamentations give forth with Isaias "thanksgiving and the voice of praise "? We are told by the Wise Man that "Music in mourning is as a tale out of time.', Besides, thanksgiving does not anticipate, but follows upon the bestowal of favours. Now, the soul that is in sadness, far from rejoicing in divine favours, is rather sorely in need of them. She has, therefore, more incentives to prayer than motives for thanksgiving. One cannot surely recall a benefit which one has not yet received. Rightly, then, have I said that the indigent soul is unable to produce for herself the second species of ointment, which can be extracted only from the recollection of heavenly favours. She cannot see the light so long as she contemplates the shadows. Plunged in bitterness, she occupies herself with melancholy memories of her sins, to the exclusion of every brighter thought. It is to such souls the Prophet addresses the words, "It is vain for you to rise before the light." As if he should say, "vainly do you attempt to rise to the contemplation of those benefits which excite feelings of pleasure, before the remorse which disquiets you has been soothed by the light of consolation." The ointment of Devotion, therefore, is beyond the reach of the spiritually indigent.

But consider who they are that can sincerely lay claim to an abundance of it. The two apostles "went from the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were accounted worthy to suffer reproach for the name of Jesus." Assuredly, they had anointed themselves well with the oil of the Spirit, whose sweetness² could be soured neither by words nor stripes. For they were rich in charity, which no expenditure can exhaust, and from it they were always able to offer "holocausts full of marrow." Their brimming hearts were constantly distilling this sacred unguent, with which they were then more abundantly supplied, when "they began to speak in divers tongues the wonderful works of God, according as the Holy Ghost gave them to speak." Those also, no doubt, were richly provided with the same precious liquor, to whom the Apostle bears witness where he says, "I give thanks to my God always for you, for the grace of God that is given you in Christ Jesus, that in all things you are made rich in Him, in all utterance, and in all knowledge, as the testimony of Christ was confirmed in you, so that nothing is wanting to you in any grace." My brethren, would to God that I may be able to return similar thanks for you, as beholding you rich in virtue, full of fervour in the divine praises, and more plenteously abounding in all spiritual graces, through Christ Jesus, Our Lord. Amen.

Footnotes

1. The Saint is speaking of simoniac prelates, at that time very numerous in the Church, who knocked down ecclesiastical offices and privileges to the highest bidder, thus making merchandise of the fruits of Christ's Passion. The comparison with Judas recalls a similar made somewhere by Ruskin. "There are many Iscariots nowadays," says the great art critic, "but, alas! very few of them get the grace of hanging themselves." — (Translator.) ↩

2. Lenitas — smoothness. There seems to be an allusion here to the wrestlers' custom of lubricating their bodies so as to render their limbs more supple and flexible. — (Translator.) ↩