Salesian Literature

​

11.  Humility and Obedience   

Sermon for Palm Sunday, March 20, 1622, concerning the perfection and imperfection found in every creature (except the Blessed Virgin)—including the angels in Heaven and the saints, how we should take note of and profit by the imperfections in the lives of the saints, how we should not use the faults of the saints to excuse our own failings, worldly prudence vs. the folly of the Cross, fraternal correction, the ass and colt upon which Our Lord entered Jerusalem and what they represent, Our Lord's humility and patience and submission, perfect obedience vs. obedience full of worldly prudence, the proper answer to make to the objections of worldly prudence, Our Lord's confounding of the maxims of the world, and our blessedness in imitating Him.

​

Everything in the world has two faces, because everything has two principles. The first is God, the first cause of everything that exists. The second is the nothingness from which everything has been drawn. Now, since God is the first principle of every being, there is nothing that does not contain something beautiful and lovable in it. But since every created thing is drawn out of nothingness, each contains some imperfection.

 

The rational creature is truly created after the image and likeness of God [Gen. 1:26-27], who is its first cause and sovereign principle. Because of this it is indeed truly lovable. Further, it is so attractive that anyone seeing a soul alive with grace, having its Creator's image stamped upon it, would be ravished and inflamed with love, as we are told St. Catherine of Siena was. But because of the second principle, nothingness, we always discover some imperfection in every creature. Thus in every rational creature there is found perfection and imperfection, signs of the two principles from which it has come forth into existence.[1] Since everything that issues from God is good and lovable, it follows that everything in the creature that is good and lovable issues from God as its first source; likewise, any imperfection found there comes from the nothingness from which it has been drawn. These two faces are found not only in rational creatures but in everything created by God.

 

All creatures—being a mixture, as it were, of perfection and imperfection—have been used by Scripture to teach us about both good and evil. There is not one from which we cannot draw an analogy to teach us about the one or the other. All can be used to point out either good or evil. For example, in a thousand places in Holy Scripture the dove is taken to represent virtue. Our Lord made use of it Himself: Be simple as doves [Matt. 10:16], indicating in this way how simple He wants us to be so as to be able to draw Him into our hearts. Now, although the dove is ordinarily used to point out to us some perfection, Holy Scripture also uses it to help us understand the ugliness of vice and of sin. Speak­ing to the people of Ephraim, God said: You have gone astray as the dove who has no heart. [Osee 7:11]. Here the sacred text uses the dove to symbolize a lack of heart and courage, cowardice and a lack of generosity.

 

Though the serpent is a wicked reptile and seems to be good for nothing but evil, yet it is not so evil that Holy Scripture cannot use it also to symbolize good to us, for Our Lord Himself said: Be wise as serpents. [Matt. 10:16]. But in other places it compares iniquity to a serpent's venom [Ps. 139 (140):4; Rom. 3:13], and the sinner to its tail. [Apoc. 12:4; Prov. 23:32]. In brief, Scripture uses it to point out both good and evil.

 

Even the rose is not so perfect as to be without some imperfection. Though it is very beautiful in the morning, in full bloom, with a delightful and pleasing fragrance, yet in the evening it is so faded and wilted that its condition can be used to symbolize the voluptuousness and delights of a worldly life. The voluptuous say, we read in Holy Scripture: "Let us enjoy good things, let us crown ourselves with rosebuds." [Wis. 2:6, 8]. Elsewhere in Scripture, things with outward beauty and show, but whose life is short and fleeting, are compared to the rose which withers and fades by evening. [Job 14:2; Ps. 102 (103):15; Is. 40:6-8]. Yet Our Lord, who is infinite Wisdom, compared Himself to it. Speaking of Himself He said: I am like a stalk, or the branch of a rose tree. [Ecclus. 24:18(14)].

 

Thus, all creatures have something of perfection and of imperfection. This is why they can be used to provide examples of both. However, I have never found Holy Scripture to use the palm tree to represent anything but perfection,[2] or something excellent and honourable. It seems to find nothing vile or contemptible in it. Among flowers, the lily seems to have nothing abject, so I have never read in Scripture that it was used for any figure but perfection. This is not so with the rest of creatures. The palm tree and the lily are apparently the only exceptions, though they also have their origin in the same nothingness from which God created everything.

 

Among all rational creatures, the Blessed Virgin alone had all kinds of good, free of every trace of evil. For she alone was exempt from all spot and stain of sin and imperfection: she alone is all-pure and all-beautiful [Cant. 1:15; 4:1, 7], with no withering or fading.[3] I say among all pure creatures she is unique, for her Son Our Lord is not simply a creature, being God and man. Being the Source of all perfection, there can be nothing imperfect in Him. But the Holy Virgin, who, like all creatures, came from nothingness, is the only one in whom there was never any imperfection. In all others is found perfection and imperfection. He who would tell someone that he had no imperfection would be as much a liar as the one who would say he had no perfection at all. Every man has some imperfection, no matter how holy he may be— and some perfection, no matter how wicked. Created after the image of God [Gen. 1:26-27], from Him comes all the good that he has; created from nothingness, each retains some imperfection.

 

This is universally true not only among human creatures, but also among the angels, for their perfection is not free from imperfection. Iniquity was found among them, and God cast them out because they rebelled against Him. [Job 4:18, 15:15; 2 Ptr. 2:4; Jude 6]. Imperfection was found among them not only before their confirmation in grace, but also since then. For they were not made so entirely perfect that there does not remain in them a certain negative imperfection which, however, does not render them displeasing to God. Confirmed in grace, this imperfection can no longer cause them to fall from beatitude, nor cause them to commit any sin. Their imperfection lies in the fact that, although they enjoy the clear vision of God, they do not always clearly and fully recognize His will, so that while waiting to have a clearer knowledge, they do as perfectly as they are able what they judge to be most conformable to the divine good pleasure, although at times there are different opinions among them.

 

It happened thus to the guardian angels of the Persians and the Jews, who debated together what should be done for the carrying out of the will of God. [Dan. 10:13]. In this they committed an imperfection—without sinning, however, because they could not sin. They resemble those who go contrary to God's will without knowing it or recognizing it. If they knew that what they are doing is not according to God's good pleasure, they would rather die a thousand times than do it. In His divine wisdom God has willed to leave this in the angels to show that there is no creature whatever who does not have some imperfection and who does not bear the mark of being created out of nothing.

​

Therefore, there is absolutely nothing wrong when one recounts the faults and sins of the saints while speaking of their virtues. On the contrary, those who write their history do a great disservice to everyone when they conceal their faults under the pretext of better honouring them, or in not recounting the often sinful beginning of their lives for fear that this would diminish or weaken the esteem one has for their later sanctity. Oh, no! That is not right! By acting in this manner, they do an injustice to these blessed ones and to all posterity. All the great saints who have written the lives of other saints have always recounted their faults and imperfections openly and simply. They thought, and rightly so, that such candour rendered as much service to God and to the saints themselves, as the recounting of their virtues. The glorious St. Jerome, in writing the epitaph, the praises and virtues of his dear St. Paula, clearly recounted her faults as well, after the account of her virtues. With great candour, honesty and simplicity he condemned some of her actions as imperfect. In recounting both her perfections and imper­fections he did so in complete honesty, knowing that one would be as useful as the other to his readers.[4]

 

It is good to take note of faults in the lives of the saints, not only to recognize the goodness that God has extended in pardoning them, but also to teach us to abhor and to avoid them and to do penance for them, just as they did. We must also take note of their virtues so as better to imitate them. In fact, true Christians and true religious ought to be like bees who fly among all the various flowers to gather honey to nourish themselves. The great St. Antony did this when, having left the world, he went throughout the deserts and grottos of the anchorites—not only, like a holy honey bee, to note and gather the honey of their virtues on which to feed himself, but also to avoid and to guard against any evil or imperfections in them. In doing that he became, in the end, a great saint.

 

There are some souls who do just the opposite. They are like wasps, not bees. Wasps are nasty little insects that fly among the flowers—not to extract honey, but poison, from them. Although they cull honey, it is only to convert it into bitterness. There are certainly some Christians who take after wasps. They too fly among the flowers, that is, the works and actions of their neighbours, not to gather the honey of a holy edification from a consideration of their virtues, but to extract poison[5] by taking note of their faults and imperfections— either those of the saints whose faults have been recounted in their biographies, or the faults of those with whom they live. They end by committing these same faults.

 

For example: they read in St. Jerome's life of St. Paula of this imperfection: she so grieved over the death of her husband and children that she became sick and almost died. "Well, now," they say, "St. Paula, a great saint, grieved so excessively on being separated from her loved ones — is there, then, any reason to be astonished that I, who am in no way a saint, am unable to resign myself to the many hardships in my life, even though they are offered by Divine Providence for my good?" With such a mindset we refuse to ac­cept any correction for a failing or imperfection, promptly objecting: "Why, such and such a saint did that too! Surely, I am no better or more perfect than he"; or, "If such a one did this, can I not do it too?" Fine reasoning, this! We are a sorry lot indeed! As if we did not have enough work to do in ourselves to correct and unravel our own imperfections and bad habits without trying to clothe ourselves as well with those we see in others!

 

We are so weak that instead of avoiding the failings we see in our neighbour, we use them either to add to our own or to deepen those we already have. Reading of the sharp disagreement between St. Paul and St. Barnabas [Acts 15:37-40], we excuse our own contentious and quarrelsome behaviour with one another! "St. Peter was brusque and precipitous. Is it any wonder that I am so too? That temperament often made him commit faults; can I not be expected to do the same?" O God, what insane logic! What foolishness! Is it not clear that such people are making excuses to nourish their own imperfections and to stagnate in their bad habits?

 

If wasps do not find poison in flowers, they gather the honey but convert it into poison. Such is their nature. There are people like that—so malign that, not content with observing other's faults so as to deepen themselves in their own malice, they go much further and so dwell on and interpret their neighbour's deeds that they actually change honey into poison, drawing evil from his actions. Not only this, but they prompt and provoke others to do the same, like wasps whose buzzing attracts others to the flower where he has found poison. For instance, a young man enters religion, or another does a good work. You can be sure there will be those who censure both and, by their machinations and gossip, cause many others to do so too. What St. Basil says of dogs can certainly be applied to such people: as soon as one barks and yelps, all the others bark and yelp, whether there is reason to or not, but simply because they are prompted and provoked.

 

But the holy Fathers teach us to continue to persevere in good despite all the barkings of such dogs. Let the world cry out as much as it wants; let human prudence censure and condemn our actions as much as it desires; we may have to listen to and suffer from all this, but let us not be frightened or give up; let us rather pursue our course firmly and faithfully. Let worldly wisdom go on constituting what it considers excellency in worldly glory if it wants to. The true Christian, or, to use the term appropriate for you, the true religious, who is tending toward Christian perfection, should, contrary to all the reasonings of human prudence, place all his perfection in the folly of the Cross [1 Cor. 1:18, 23], because it was in this folly of the Cross that Our Lord was made perfect. So all the saints have endeavoured to become wise in this folly and, for this, suffered all the contempt, censures and humiliations which came to them from the worldly wise. Perfection of the Cross requires that we endure labours, persecutions and reprehensions for justice' sake. Blessed are those who are persecuted for justice' sake. [Matt. 5:10].

​

This wisdom is wholly contrary to that of the world. Even though Our Lord cried out again and again: Blessed are the poor in spirit, the peacemakers, the meek, they who hunger and thirst for justice[6] [Matt. 5:3-6], the world cannot embrace this wisdom. It cries out: "Oh! How blessed are the wealthy, the oppressors, those who take vengeance on their enemies, and those whom one dares not offend." See how the perfection of the Cross is folly in the eyes of the world precisely because it embraces what is abhorrent to human nature. It loves correction and submits to it; it not only takes pleasure in being corrected, but it has no greater pleasure than in being reproved and corrected for faults and failings. Oh, blessed are they who speak only to give fraternal correction in a spirit of charity and profound humility! But more blessed are those who are always ready to receive it with a gentle, peaceful and tranquil heart! In this, they have already made great progress. Let them be humble and faithful, and let them have good courage, because in spite of all the trickeries of human prudence, they will arrive at the highest degree of Christian perfection.

 

Apropos of this topic, I cannot refrain from telling you a very interesting story. The great St. Charles was once cor­rected by a sincere gentleman for an imperfection which he had noticed in the saint.[7] This good man, however, filtered this failing through the eye of human prudence. It happened like this. Once this glorious saint had to make a trip to Milan, and chose to go by water instead of by land in order to have more leisure for his spiritual exercises—to pray his Office, meditate for an hour, do spiritual reading and speak of spiritual matters. There was more time for such activities when travelling by boat than by horseback. Incidentally, those who have been to Milan know that the scenery is very lovely and that there are delightfully graceful canals en route.

 

St. Charles embarked, then, with his retinue, and as it happened, the above-mentioned gentleman made the same jour­ney. After they had finished their accustomed prayers, St. Charles said: "Now come, let us have a little recreation." (Recreation has always been highly praised and recommended as good by the saints. It is amply provided for in all religious communities to relax the spirit which, if always taut, leads to one kind of trouble or other.)[8] They asked: "What shall we do?" They certainly did not want to do something unseemly or improper for recreation. St. Charles said: "Let us play a game." (There was no question of cards or the like, for this great prelate was too pious.)[9] "Let us play the game of telling each other our faults clearly, simply, candidly—no flattery. Each will tell these things to the one nearest him, one after the other."

 

This was indeed a fine game. Not everyone knows of it and not all like to play it! Certainly the Holy Spirit reigns in this kind of recreation. For it is indeed the recreation of the saints to alert one another to faults—but humbly, charitably, and with great truth and simplicity. The game begins. One says, "We have noticed that you often use duplicity; your words are not simple; you do not perform your actions with sincerity." Another says, "We have noticed that you are vain and proud; you take pleasure in sporting a big moustache; you frequently look to see if your beard is still well combed; in short, we have noticed that you are very vain indeed." During this game you would have seen this one blush and that one blanche, depending upon how they reacted emotionally to these corrections.

 

At last came the turn of the gentleman of whom we have spoken. He was next to St. Charles and had to tell our saint his faults. He stood with cap in hand, and St. Charles begged him to say very simply what he had noticed in him. "Do not spare me, I entreat you; tell me my faults. I am eager to hear you out." Now, the gentleman had had something in his mind for a long time and was happy with this opportunity to tell St. Charles of it. "My lord, for a very long time we have observed in you a great indiscretion. This has been noticed by myself and by many others who esteem you greatly, yet think you very inconsiderate." Raising his hat to him, St. Charles said: "Sir, I thank you. I am sure this is the case, but please be specific. This accusation is too general; I am waiting to hear of some particular faults. Speak; do not spare me."

 

"My lord," replied the gentleman, "your great indiscretion is that you sleep in the daytime instead of at night. When you come to church for Mass, or to hear a sermon, you fall asleep. Those who see you are astonished and ask: 'Do you see our Archbishop sleeping? Would it not be better for him to sleep during the night instead of coming here to do it?' The preacher is displeased and distracted too. You ought to correct this fault by sleeping at night so that you can stay awake during the day." Now although this admonition was prompted by human prudence, St. Charles smiled and thanked the man with great affection, showing that he received it with a humble and gentle heart. Then he said, "It is very true that usually I commit this indiscretion; but I assure you, and it is true, that my body is so heavy and sluggish that even if I sleep nine hours at night I am still sleepy the next day." This is how they spent that recreation. But why did I tell you this story? I really do not know. But when something is useful to living I do not consider my purpose in saying it.

​

I do not well recall what I said to you in the past on this topic of Our Lord's entry into Jerusalem. [Matt. 21:1-9]. But I thought I would speak today on the reasons for Our Lord choosing both an ass and a colt for this royal entry. There are many, but six principal ones. I will speak of only three today as I must not speak longer than an hour. The first is the animal's humility; the second, its patience; the third, its willingness to be burdened.

 

However, before proceeding along these lines, I must say a word on the literal meaning of the text. I will do this briefly. The ancient Fathers are not in agreement as to whether Our Lord rode on the ass or on the colt, and there is a great diversity of opinions among the Doctors on this subject, but it is not a point to be discussed in this place. The majority of the ancient Fathers maintain that Our Lord mounted both the ass, and the colt on which no one had ever ridden. [Mk. 11:2]. Others disagree, and each tries to give reasons to prove his own case. For myself, I agree with those who think that our Master mounted both the ass and the colt—not both at the same time, but first one and then the other.[10] Some say that the ass represents the Jewish people, and the colt, the Gentiles. This is certainly not without foundation since, as they remark, the ass had already borne burdens and the colt had borne nothing, just as God had already "burdened" the Jewish people with His Law, while the Gentiles had not yet received it. Since Our Lord was coming to impose His yoke upon the Gentiles, He mounted the colt. [Mk. 11:7]. I find this very touching. But let us return to the reasons why our Saviour chose these animals to mount.

 

The first is because of its humility. The ass, though heavy, sluggish and lazy, has great humility. It is neither proud nor vain; in this it is unlike the haughty horse. Is not a vain and proud man compared to a horse [Ps. 31 (32): 9], which is fiery and arrogant? Not only does it kick, but it also bites, and is sometimes so furious that none dare approach it. When the rider mounts it, it pricks up its ears, as if to hear what is said of it. It raises its head, tosses its mane and tail, and even excites vanity in the man who rides it! No sooner does he hear his horse's hoofs on the pavement than he straightens himself up proudly, raises his head, and looks around to see if there are any ladies at the windows admiring him! Indeed, which is more vain—the horse or its rider?[11] Oh, how foolish and childish all this is!

 

Now Our Lord, who was humble and came to destroy pride, chose not to use this proud animal to carry Him. He chose the most simple and the most humble of all animals because He so loved lowliness and humility that only a humble mount could serve Him. God dwells and abides only in the simple and humble of heart. [Is. 57:15]. Wishing to show His esteem for this virtue, He chose lowliness and abjection for the day of His triumph. He emptied and humbled Himself. He would not have been humiliated and despised by others except He willed it. He Himself emptied Himself, choosing abjection. He who was the Father's equal in all things, without ceasing to remain what He was, chose to be the reproach and outcast of the people. [Ps. 21 (22):7; Is. 53:3]. Though humbled in this way, He nevertheless could affirm His equality with the Father and the Holy Spirit, for He was, with them, one Substance, one Power and one Wisdom. Nor did our Blessed Saviour do a disservice to the truth when in the very depth of His contempt and humiliations He said: "The Father and I are equal in power; the Spirit and I are equal in goodness. We are but one Power, one Wisdom, and one Goodness." For in all ways They were equal. While in this glory, He humbled Himself, in entering Jerusalem not on a horse or other conveyance, but on an ass and a colt, which were covered only with the poor mantles of His Apostles.

 

It is of this great triumph of humility that Isaias [Is. 53:3; 62:11] and Zacharias [Zach. 9:9] sing, along with that divine poet, the royal prophet David[12] [Ps. 45:6, Heb. & Sept.]: He emptied and abased Himself; He humbled Himself; He came mounted upon an ass and a colt. He bent His bow and darted His arrows of love into the hearts of the people of Israel. All were moved at His coming and sang: Hosanna, blessed be the Son of David, blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord; glory be to the Most High. [Ps. 117 (118): 26; Matt. 21:9]. His gentleness and humility captivated all their hearts. Had He come on any other conveyance He would have frightened them. This is the first quality that made the ass appropriate for Our Lord's use on this occasion: its humility.

​

The second quality is its patience. Not only is the ass humble, it is exceedingly patient, allowing itself to be beaten and maltreated without ever forgetting its origin. [Is. 1:3]. It neither complains, nor bites, nor kicks. It endures all with great patience. Our Lord so loved patience that He wished to become its mirror and pattern. He endured scourging and ill treatment with invincible patience; He supported so many blasphemies, so many calumnies, without saying a word.

 

Now humility and patience have such an affinity with one another that one can hardly exist without the other. He who desires to be humble must be patient enough to endure the contempt, the censure, the reprehensions that the humble suffer. Likewise, he who desires to be patient must be humble, because one cannot long support the labours and adversities of this life without the humility which makes us gentle and patient. Finding these two qualities in this animal, Our Lord chose it rather than any other for His entry into Jerusalem.

 

The third reason is that this animal is obedient, permitting us to burden it as much as we want without offering any resistance. It carries the load with remarkable submission and suppleness. So much did our Divine Master love obedience and suppleness that He Himself chose to give us an example of it. So He bore the heavy burden of our iniquities and suffered for them all that we had merited. [Is. 53:4ff.]. Oh, how blessed are they who are supple and submissive, who allow themselves to be commanded as others wish, subjecting themselves to all kinds of obediences without reply or excuse, supporting with good heart the burden imposed on them! Only when clothed with these qualities of humility, patience and submission can we be worthy to carry Our Lord. Then the Saviour will mount upon our hearts and, as a divine riding master, conduct us under His obedience.

​

Having chosen the ass to carry Him into Jerusalem, Our Lord sent two of His disciples to a little village which was close by, saying: Go into the village, loose the ass and the colt, and bring them to Me; if anyone says a word to you, say, "The Lord has need of them." Hearing this, they left at once and went where their good Master had sent them. They loosed the ass and the colt and led them to Him. If you ask me who these two disciples were, I cannot tell you because the Evangelist does not tell us. Since he does not name them, neither can I. There are different opinions on this subject; some think they were St. James and St. Philip; others, St. John and St. Peter; each has his own opinion, but no one really knows who they were.

 

Whoever they were, I love and admire them very much because they were extremely simple and perfectly obedient in making no reply. They could have replied: "Indeed, You order us to bring You these two beasts, but how will we know which two You want; are there only these two? Will we be allowed to take them?" and many other such objections which human prudence could have suggested. Certainly, there are those who make so many reflections, see so many aspects, find so many interpretations, that they make a thou­sand replies to all obediences given them. We find no submission in them. They live in perpetual disturbance. On the contrary, these Apostles went without making any reflections, because they were obedient and loved obedience. It is a sure indication that one does not love the command when one reflects incessantly on it.

​

I have already spoken about all this at other times.[1] I remember giving you the example of Eve, who raised so many difficulties concerning the prohibition against eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge. To the serpent she said: "Oh, God has forbidden us to look at or touch this fruit" [Gen. 2:17; 3:1-3], implying that it was an unreasonable, harsh, and dif­ficult command to observe. Certainly, one who has no love for obedience never lacks reasons for avoiding its fulfillment or for lamenting its difficulty. If a person like this is advised to receive Communion frequently, "Oh," she will think, "what will people say if they see me communicate so frequently, or go to confession so often, or make meditation every day? Oh, what will they say?" Simply go and do what the Lord commands!

 

The Saviour knew, of course, that the Apostles would meet people who would question their taking these animals and what they were going to do with them. So it happened that not only did the owner question them, but the neighbors med­dled in as well. Anticipating this, Our Lord said to them: If anyone tries to prevent your bringing them to Me, say that the Lord needs them, and he will let them go. With these words from their good Master, the Apostles left. To those who tried to prevent their taking these animals they replied: The Lord needs them; and the people let them go. [Mk. 11:3-6]. Indeed, I love the people in that village for they were very courteous; they no sooner heard that the Lord needed their beasts than they willingly let them go.

 

Certainly, this answer, "The Lord needs them," is one we ought to give to anyone who tries to prevent us from doing God's will. "Why do you fast, go to confession and Com­munion so often?" ask the worldlywise. Answer them: "Be­cause the Lord needs it." "Why are you entering religion? Why do you enclose yourself and bind your eyes like a fal­con?" "The Lord needs it." "Why make yourself as poor as a beggar?" "The Lord needs it." In a word, we ought to make use of this reply to put in their place all those who wish to keep us from doing God's will.[2]

 

The Apostles led the ass and colt to Our Lord. We must note that He deliberately told them to loose them and lead them to Him. If we wish to go to our Saviour, we too must allow ourselves to be loosed from our passions, our habits, affections and the bonds of sin which keep us from serving Him. This ass and colt had only the Apostles' cloaks laid on them; then Our Lord mounted them; and in this abjection and humility He made His triumphal entry into Jerusalem. In this He confounded the world, which overthrows all the maxims of the Gospel, relishing neither humility nor abjec­tion. It never ceases to say: "Unfortunate are the poor and suffering. But how happy that wealthy one is!" "Why do you find him happy?" "Because his barn is full of grain and his cellar is full of wine. This girl is also happy because she too is rich, well dressed and covered with jewels." Others are considered happy because their hair is well curled or daintily braided, or they have a fancy gown. How childish all this is! Nevertheless, these are the kinds of people the world considers happy and fortunate.

 

Our Lord turns all such ideas upside down today by His entrance into Jerusalem. He in no way acts like princes of the world, who, when entering a city, do it with much pomp, show and expense. He chooses no other mount but an ass covered with the worthless and poor cloaks of His Apostles. Oh! how blessed are they whom our Divine Master chooses to carry Him, who are covered with the Apostles' cloaks, that is, clothed with apostolic virtues, which render them worthy of bearing our dear Saviour and of being led by Him. Blessed are they who conduct themselves here in lowliness and humility. They will be exalted in Heaven.[3] [Matt. 18:4; 23:12; Lk. 14:11; 18:14]. Their patience will win for them perpetual peace and tranquility; for their obedience they shall receive a crown of glory [Tab. 3:21; James 1:12]; finally, they shall be covered with the hundredfold of blessings in this life and shall bless the Father, Son and Holy Spirit eternally in the next. May God give us this grace. Amen.

​

​

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[1] St. Francis de Sales is using poetic license in speaking here of nothingness as something like a co-principle of created being. As a philosopher he would agree with the classical maxim that from nothing, nothing comes.

[2] Cf. Spiritual Conferences, XIX.

[3] Cf. Sermons of St. Francis de Sales on Our Lady, "The Purification," February 2, 1622.

[4] Cf. Introduction to the Devout Life, Part III, chapter 1 and Chapter 2; Spiritual Conferences, XIV.

[5] Cf. Introduction, Part III, chapter 28.

[6] Cf. Sermon for Passion Sunday.

[7] The editor of the Annecy edition of these sermons notes at this point that no biography of St. Charles recounts this story, and suggests that St. Francis learned of it on one of his many trips to Milan.

[8] Cf.  Spiritual Conferences, IV; IX

[9] It is good to be reminded here that St. Francis is giving this Lenten series to the contemplative Visitation nuns. He always has the congregation in mind when preaching and giving examples or making asides.

[10] Like all the Doctors of the Church, St. Francis finds significance and spiritual value in the least detail and nuance of Scripture. In this way the Bible becomes for him an inexhaustible source for genu­ine wisdom and spiritual formation.

[11] Cf. Sermons on Our Lady, "The Visitation," July 2, 1621; Spiritual Conferences, XVII.

[12] Treatise on the Love of God, Book IX, chapter 6.

[13] Cf. Sermons on Our Lady, "The Purification," February 2, 1622.

[14] Cf.  Treatise, Book VIII, chapter 6.

[15] Cf. Sermons on Our Lady, "The Immaculate Conception," December 8, 1622.

 

Back to Top

​