Consideration XVII - ABUSE OF THE DIVINE MERCY

"Ignoras, quoniam benignitas Dei ad poenitentiam te adducit?" (Rom. 2:4).

Point I

We have in the parable of the tares in St. Matthew (ch. 13) that when the tares had grown up in a field together with the wheat, the servants wished to go and pull them up: "Vis, imus, et colligimus ea?" But the master answered: No, let them grow, and then they will be gathered and sent to the fire: "In tempore messis dicam messoribus, colligite primum zizania, et alligate ea in fasciculos ad comburendum." From this parable we learn on the one hand the patience the Lord uses with sinners, and on the other the rigor He uses with the obstinate. St. Augustine says that the devil deceives men in two ways: "Desperando, et sperando." After the sinner has sinned, he tempts him to despair with the terror of divine justice; but before sinning, he lures the soul to sin with the hope of divine mercy. Therefore the Saint warns everyone: "Post peccatum spera misericordiam; ante peccatum pertimesce iustitiam." Yes, because he does not deserve mercy who makes use of God's mercy to offend Him. Mercy is shown to those who fear God, not to those who take advantage of it to not fear Him. He who offends justice, says the Abulensis, can have recourse to mercy; but he who offends mercy itself, to whom will he have recourse?

It is difficult to find a sinner so desperate as to wish positively to damn himself. Sinners wish to sin without losing the hope of being saved. They sin and say: God is merciful; I will commit this sin and then confess it. "Bonus est Deus, faciam quod mihi placet" — this is how sinners speak, writes St. Augustine. But, O God, so too did many who are now already damned.

Do not say, says the Lord: God's mercies are great; however many sins I commit, with one act of sorrow I will be pardoned. "Et ne dicas: miseratio Domini magna est, multitudinis peccatorum meorum miserebitur" (Sirach 5:6). Do not say it, says God; and why? "Misericordia enim, et ira ab illo cito proximant, et in peccatores respicit ira illius" (ibid.). The mercy of God is infinite, but the acts of this mercy (which are the merciful deeds) are finite. God is merciful but He is also just. "Ego sum iustus, et misericors," the Lord said one day to St. Bridget; "peccatores tantum misericordem me existimant." Sinners, writes St. Basil, wish to consider God only by half: "Bonus est Dominus, sed etiam iustus; nolite Deum ex dimidia parte cogitare." To bear with one who uses God's mercy to offend Him more, said Father John of Avila, would not be mercy but a failure of justice. Mercy is promised to those who fear God, not to those who abuse it. "Et misericordia eius timentibus eum," as the divine Mother sang. To the obstinate, justice is threatened; and just as God does not lie in His promises, so He does not lie in His threats, says St. Augustine: "Qui verus est in promittendo, verus est in minando."

Beware, says St. John Chrysostom, when the devil (not God) promises you divine mercy so that you may sin: "Cave ne unquam canem illum suscipias, qui misericordiam Dei pollicetur." Woe, adds St. Augustine, to him who hopes in order to sin: "Sperat, ut peccet; vae a perversa spe." Oh, how many this vain hope has deceived and ruined, says the Saint: "Dinumerari non possunt, quantos haec inanis spei umbra deceperit." Poor the one who abuses the mercy of God to outrage Him all the more!

St. Bernard says that Lucifer was so quickly punished by God because he rebelled hoping to receive no punishment. King Manasseh was a sinner, then he was converted, and God pardoned him; his son Amon, seeing his father so easily pardoned, gave himself to an evil life hoping for pardon; but for Amon there was no mercy. For this reason too St. John Chrysostom says that Judas was lost because he sinned trusting in the kindness of Jesus Christ: "Fidit in lenitate magistri." In short, God may bear with us, but He does not bear with us forever. If it were the case that God always bore with sinners, no one would be damned; but the most common opinion is that the greater part even of Christians (speaking of adults) are damned: "Lata porta et spatiosa via est, quae ducit ad perditionem, et multi intrant per eam" (Matt. 7:13).

He who offends God hoping for pardon "irrisor est non poenitens," says St. Augustine. But on the other hand, says St. Paul, God is not mocked: "Deus non irridetur" (Gal. 6:7). It would be mocking God to go on offending Him whenever one wished, and then go to paradise. "Quae enim seminaverit homo, haec et metet" (ibid. 8). He who sows sins has no reason to hope for anything but punishment and hell. The net with which the devil drags to hell nearly all the Christians who are damned is this deception, by which he says to them: Sin freely, because with all your sins you will be saved. But God curses him who sins hoping for pardon. "Maledictus homo qui peccat in spe." The hope of the sinner after the sin, when there is repentance, is dear to God; but the hope of the obstinate is an abomination to God: "Et spes illorum abominatio" (Job 11:20). Such a hope provokes God to punish, just as a servant who offended his master because the master was good would provoke him.

Affections and Prayers

Ah, my God, here I am — I have been one of those who offended You because You were good to me. Ah, Lord, wait for me; do not abandon me yet, for I hope, by Your grace, no longer to provoke You to abandon me. I repent, O infinite Goodness, of having offended You and of having so abused Your patience. I thank You for having waited for me until now. From this day forward I will betray You no more, as I have done in the past. You have borne with me so long, so that one day You might see me become a lover of Your goodness. Behold, this day has now arrived, as I hope. I love You above all things and esteem Your grace more than all the kingdoms of the world; rather than lose it, I am ready to lose my life a thousand times. My God, for the love of Jesus Christ, give me holy perseverance until death, together with Your holy love. Do not permit me to betray You again and to cease loving You.

Mary, you are my hope; obtain for me this perseverance; and I ask nothing more of you.

Point II

Someone will say: God has shown me so many mercies in the past; so I hope He will show them to me in the future. But I answer: And because He has shown you so many mercies, is that why you wish to return to offending Him? So then — St. Paul says to you — do you thus despise the goodness and patience of God? Do you not know that the Lord has borne with you until now, not so that you might continue to offend Him, but so that you might weep over the evil done? "An divitias bonitatis eius, et patientiae contemnis? Ignoras, quoniam benignitas Dei ad poenitentiam te adducit?" (Rom. 2:4). When you, trusting in divine mercy, will not make an end of it, the Lord will make an end of it. "Nisi conversi fueritis, arcum suum vibrabit" (Ps. 7). "Mea est ultio et ego retribuam in tempore" (Deut. 32:35). God waits, but when the time of vengeance comes, He waits no more and punishes.

"Propterea exspectat Dominus, ut misereatur vestri" (Is. 30:18). God waits for the sinner so that he may amend; but when He sees that the time given him to weep over his sins is used instead to multiply them, then He calls that very time to judge him. "Vocavit adversum me tempus" (Lam. 1:15). St. Gregory says: "Ipsum tempus ad iudicandum vertit." So that the very time given, the very mercies shown, will serve to have him punished with greater rigor and more quickly abandoned. "Curavimus Babylonem, et non est sanata, derelinquamus eam" (Jer. 51:9). And how does God abandon him? Either He sends him death and lets him die in sin; or He deprives him of abundant graces and leaves him with sufficient grace alone, with which the sinner could indeed save himself, but will not. The blinded mind, the hardened heart, and evil habits will render his salvation morally impossible; and so he will remain, if not absolutely, at least morally abandoned. "Auferam sepem eius, et erit in direptionem" (Is. 5:5). Oh, what a punishment! What does it mean when the master tears down the hedge and allows anyone to enter the vineyard — men and beasts? It means he abandons it. So God does when He abandons a soul: He removes the hedge of fear, of remorse of conscience, and leaves it in darkness; and then all the monsters of vice will enter that soul. "Posuisti tenebras, et facta est nox, in ipsa pertransibunt omnes bestiae silvae" (Ps. 103:20). And the abandoned sinner, being in that darkness, will despise everything: the grace of God, paradise, warnings, excommunications; he will even mock his own damnation. "Impius, cum in profundum peccatorum venerit, contemnit" (Prov. 18:3).

God will leave him in this life without punishing him, but not punishing him will be his greatest punishment. "Misereamur impio, et non discet iustitiam" (Is. 26:10). St. Bernard says on this text: "Misericordiam hanc ego nolo; super omnem iram miseratio ista." Oh, what a punishment it is when God leaves the sinner in the hands of his sin and seems no longer to call him to account! "Secundum multitudinem irae suae non quaeret" (Ps. 9). And it seems He is no longer indignant with him: "Auferetur zelus meus a te, et quiescam, nec irascar amplius" (Ezek. 16:42). And He seems to let him obtain everything he desires on this earth: "Et dimisi eos secundum desideria cordis eorum" (Ps. 80). Poor sinners who in this life are prosperous! It is a sign that God is waiting to make them victims of His justice in the eternal life. Jeremiah asks: "Quare via impiorum prosperatur?" And then answers: "Congregas eos quasi gregem ad victoriam." There is no greater punishment than when God permits a sinner to add sins upon sins, according to what David says: "Appone iniquitatem super iniquitatem... deleantur de libro viventium" (Ps. 66:28). On which Bellarmine says: "Nulla poena maior, quam cum peccatum est poena peccati." It would have been better for some of these unhappy ones if the Lord had let them die after the first sin; because dying later, they will have as many hells as they have committed sins.

Affections and Prayers

My God, I see already that I have deserved to be in this miserable state — deprived of Your grace and deprived of light. But seeing the light You now give me, and hearing myself called by You to penance, it is a sign that You have not yet abandoned me. And since You have not abandoned me, come, my Lord, increase Your mercies upon my soul; increase the light; increase in me the desire to serve You and to love You. Change me, O almighty God, and from the traitor and rebel I have been, make me a great lover of Your goodness, so that one day I may come to heaven to praise Your mercies for eternity. You then wish to pardon me, and I desire nothing but pardon from You and Your love. I repent, O infinite Goodness, of having given You so many displeasures. I love You, O supreme Good, because You command it of me; I love You, because You are well worthy of it. Ah, my Redeemer, through the merits of Your blood, let Yourself be loved by a sinner whom You have so greatly loved and with such patience borne with for so many years. I hope for everything from Your mercy. I hope to love You always from this day forward until death and for eternity. "Misericordias Domini in aeternum cantabo." I will praise Your mercy forever, my Jesus.

And I will praise your mercy forever, O Mary, which has obtained so many graces for me; I owe them all to your intercession. Continue, my Lady, to help me now and to obtain for me holy perseverance.

Point III

It is told in the life of Father Luigi la Nusa that in Palermo there were two friends. One day as they were walking together, one of them named Cesare, who was an actor, seeing the other pensive, said to him: "I'll bet you have been to confession, and that is why you are troubled." Then he added: "Listen, know that one day Father la Nusa told me that God was giving me twelve years of life, and that if I did not amend within that time, I would make a bad death. I have traveled to many parts of the world; I have had illnesses, especially one that brought me to the point of death; but in this month, when the twelve years are coming to an end, I feel better than at any time in my whole life." Then he invited his friend to come on Saturday to hear a new comedy he had composed. Now what happened? On Saturday, the 24th of November, 1668, while he was about to go on stage, he was struck by a seizure, and died suddenly, breathing his last in the arms of an actress — and so the comedy ended. Now let us come to ourselves. My brother, when the devil tempts you to sin again, if you wish to damn yourself, it is in your power to sin; but do not say then that you wish to be saved. While you wish to sin, consider yourself damned, and imagine that God then writes your condemnation and says to you: "Quid ultra debui facere vineae meae, et non feci?" (Is. 5:4). Ungrateful one, what more should I have done for you that I have not done? Now then, since you wish to be damned, be damned — it is your own fault.

But you will say: And where is the mercy of God? Ah, wretch, does it not seem to you a mercy of God to have borne with you for so many years with so many sins? You should be lying with your face to the ground, always thanking Him and saying: "Misericordiae Domini, quia non sumus consumti" (Lam. 3). By committing a single mortal sin you have committed a crime greater than if you had trampled underfoot the first monarch of the earth; you have committed so many that if the injuries you did to God you had done to your own brother, he would not have borne with you. God not only waited for you but called you so many times and invited you to pardon. "Quid ultra debui facere?" If God had needed you, or if you had done Him some great favor, could He have shown you greater mercy? Given all this, if you return again to offending Him, you will cause all His mercy to turn into fury and punishment.

If that fig tree found by the master without fruit, after the year allowed for cultivating it, had still borne no fruit, who would ever have hoped that the Lord would give it more time and spare it from being cut down? Hear then what St. Augustine warns you: "O arbor infructuosa, dilata est securis, noli esse secura, amputaberis." The punishment, says the Saint, has been deferred, but not removed; if you abuse divine mercy any further, "amputaberis" — in the end He will cut you down. What are you waiting for — that God should actually send you to hell? But if He does, you already know that there will then be no more remedy for you. The Lord is silent, but He is not silent forever; when the time of vengeance comes, He is silent no more. "Haec fecisti, et tacui. Existimasti inique, quod ero tui similis? Arguam te, et statuam contra faciem tuam" (Ps. 49:21).

He will place before you the mercies He has shown you, and will make them themselves judge and condemn you.

Affections and Prayers

Ah, my God, poor me if from this day forward I were not faithful to You and returned to betraying You after the light You now give me! This light is a sign that You wish to pardon me. I repent, O supreme Good, of all the injuries I have done You, for having offended You, infinite Goodness. I hope in Your blood for pardon, and I hope for it with certainty. But if I were to turn my back on You again, I see that I would deserve a hell reserved for me alone. And this is what makes me tremble, O God of my soul: I can return to losing Your grace. I think of how many times I have promised You to be faithful, and then again I rebelled against You. Ah, Lord, do not permit it; do not abandon me to this great misfortune of seeing myself once again made Your enemy. Send me every punishment, but not this one. "Ne permittas me separari a Te." If ever You see that I would again offend You, let me die first. I am content with any death, however torturous, rather than having to weep the misery of being once more deprived of Your grace. "Ne permittas me separari a Te." I repeat it, my God, and grant that I may always repeat it: "Ne permittas me separari a Te." I love You, my dear Redeemer; I will no longer separate myself from You. Through the merits of Your death, give me a great love that may bind me to You so closely that I can never again be loosed.

O Mary, my Mother, if I return to offending God, I fear that you too will abandon me. Help me then with your prayers; obtain for me holy perseverance and love for Jesus Christ.