The remaining Sundays are the last of the Church’s Cycle, but their proximity with its final termination varies each Year according as Easter was early or late. This their moveable character does away with anything like harmony between the composition of their Masses and the Lessons of the Night Office, all of which, dating from August, have been appointed and fixed for each subsequent week. This we have already explained to our Readers.
Still, the instruction which the Faithful ought to derive from the sacred Liturgy would be incomplete, and the spirit of the Church, during these last weeks of her Year would not be sufficiently understood by her children, unless they were to remember that the two months of October and November are filled, the first with readings from the book of the Machabees, whose example inspirits us for the final combats, and the second with lessons from the Prophets proclaiming to us the judgements of God.
Durandus, Bishop of Mende, in his Rational, tells us that this, and the following Sundays till Advent, bear closely on the Gospel of the Marriage-Feast, of which they are really but a further development. “Whereas,” says he, speaking of this twenty-first Sunday, “this Marriage has no more powerful opponent than the envy of Satan, the Church speaks to us today on our combat with him, and on the armour with which we must be clad in order to go through this terrible battle, as we will see by the Epistle. And because sackcloth and ashes are the instruments of penance, therefore does the Church borrow for the Introit the words of Mardochai, who prayed for God’s mercy in sackcloth and ashes.”
These reflections of Durandus are quite true but if the thought of her having soon to be united with her divine Spouse is uppermost in the Church’s mind, yet it is by forgetting her own happiness and turning all her thoughts to mankind, whose salvation has been entrusted to her care by her Lord, that she will best prove herself to be truly His Bride during the miseries of those last days. As we have already said, the near approach of the general judgement and the terrible state of the world during the period immediately preceding that final consummation of time is the very soul of the Liturgy during these last Sundays of the Church’s Year. As regards the present Sunday, the portion of the Mass which used formerly to attract the attention of our Catholic forefathers was the Offertory taken from the book of Job, with its telling exclamations and its emphatic repetitions. We may, in all truth, say, that this Offertory contains the ruling idea which runs through this twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost. Reduced like Job on the dung-hill, to the extremity of wretchedness, the world has nothing to trust to but to God’s mercy. The holy men who are still living in it, imitating in the name of all mankind, the sentiments of the just man of Idumea, honour God by a patience and resignation which do but add power and intensity to their supplications. They begin by making their own the sublime prayer made, by Mardochai, for his people who were doomed to extermination. The world is condemned to a similar ruin (Esther xiii. 9‒11).Epistle – Ephesians vi. 10‒17
Brethren, be strengthened in the Lord, and in the might of His power. Put on the armour of God, that you may be able to stand against the deceits of the devil. For our wrestling is not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the world of this darkness, against the spirits of wickedness in the high places. Therefore take to yourself the armour of God, that you may be able to resist in the evil day, and to stand in all things perfect. Stand, therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of justice, and your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; in all things taking the shield of faith, with which you may be able to extinguish all the fiery darts of the most wicked one. And take to yourself the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.Thanks be to God.
Dom Prosper Guéranger:
The early beginnings of man’s union with his God are, generally speaking, deliciously calm. Divine Wisdom, once He has led His chosen creature by hard laborious work to the purification of his mind and senses, allows him (when the sacred alliance is duly concluded) to rest on His sacred breast and thoroughly attaches the devoted one to Himself by delights which are an ante-dated Heaven, making the soul despise every earthly pleasure. It seems as though the welcome law of Deuteronomy were always in force (Deuteronomy xxiv. 5), namely, that no battle and no anxiety must ever break in upon the first season of the glorious union. But this exemption from the general taxation is never of long duration, for combat is the normal state of every man here below (Job vii. 1).
The Most High is pleased at seeing a battle well fought by His Christian soldiers. There is no name so frequently applied to Him by the Prophets as that of the God of Hosts. His divine Son, who is the Spouse, shows Himself here on this Earth of ours as the Lord who is mighty in battle (Psalm xxiii. 8). In the mysterious nuptial Canticle of the forty-fourth Psalm He lets us see Him as Most Powerful Prince girding on His grand Sword (Psalm xliv. 4) and making His way, with His sharp arrows, through the very heart and thick of His enemies (Psalm xliv. 6) in order to reach, in fair valiance and beautiful victory, the Bride He has chosen as His own (Psalm xliv. 5). She, too, just like Him —she, the Bride, whose beauty He has vouchsafed to love (Psalm xliv. 12) and wills her to share in all His own glories (Psalm xliv. 10) — yes, she too advances towards Him in the glittering armour of a warrior (Canticles iv. 4) surrounded by choirs (Canticles vii. 1) singing the magnificent exploits of the Spouse and, she herself terrible as an army set in array (Canticles vi. 9). The armour of the brave is on her arms and breast. Her noble bearing reminds one of the tower of David with its thousand bucklers (Canticles iv. 4).
United to her divine Lord, warriors the most valiant stand about her. They merit that privilege by their well-proved sword and their skill in war. Each one of them has his sword quite ready because of the night-surprises which the enemy may use against this most dear Church (Canticles iii. 7, 8). For until the dawn of the eternal day when the shadows of this present life are put to flight (Canticles iv. 6) by the light of the Lamb (Apocalypse xxi. 9, 23) who will then have vanquished all His enemies — yes, until that day, power is in the hands of the rulers of the world of this darkness, says Saint Paul in today’s Epistle. And it is against them that we must take to ourselves the armour of God which he there describes. We must wear it all if we would be able to resist in the evil day.
The evil days spoken of by the Apostle last Sunday (Ephesians v. 16) are frequent in the life of every individual as likewise in the world’s history. But,for every man, and for the world at large, there is one evil day, evil beyond all the others: it is the last day, the day of judgement, the day of exceeding bitterness, as the Church calls it on account of the woe and misery which are to fill it. We talk of so many years as passing away, and of centuries succeeding each other. But all these are neither more nor less than preparations hurrying on the world to the Last Day. Happy they who, on that Day, will fight the good fight (2 Timothy iv. 7) and win victory! Or who, as our Apostle expresses it, will stand while all around them is ruin, yes, stand, in all things, perfect! They will not be hurt by the second death (Apocalypse ii. 11). Wreathed with the crown of justice (2 Timothy iv. 8) they will reign with God (Apocalypse xx. 6) on His throne, together with His Son (Apocalypse iii. 21).
The war is an easy one when we have this Man-God for our Leader. All He asks of us is what the Apostle thus words: “Be strengthened in the Lord, and in the might of His power!” It is leaning on her Beloved that the beautiful Church is to go up from the desert and thus supported she is actually to be flowing with delights (Canticles viii. 5) even in those most sad days. The faithful soul is out of herself with love when she remembers that the armour she wears is the armour of God, that is, the very armour of her Spouse. It is quite thrilling to hear the Prophets describing this Jesus, this Leader, of ours, accoutred for battle and with all the pieces we, too, are to wear: He girds Himself with the girdle of faith (Isaias xi. 5), then He puts the helmet of salvation on His beautiful head (Isaias lix. 17), then the breastplate of justice (Wisdom v. 19), then the shield of invincible equity (Wisdom v. 20), and finally a magnificently tempered sword, the sword of the spirit, which is the word of God (Apocalypse ii. 16). We should almost think we were here having a list of our own arms. Well, yes, but they are His first. And the Gospel shows Him to us as entering, Himself, on the great battle, that He might show us how to use these same divine arms which He puts upon each of us, if we will but be His soldiers.
This armour consists of many parts, because of its varied uses and effects. And yet, whether offensive or defensive, all of them have one common name, and that name is Faith. Our Epistle makes us say so. And our Jesus, our Leader, taught it us when to the triple temptation brought against Him by the devil on the mount of Quarantana, He made answer to each temptation by a text from the sacred Scriptures (Matthew iv. 1‒11) The victory which overcomes the world is our Faith, says Saint John (1 John v. 4). When Saint Paul, at the close of his career, reviews the combats he had fought through life, he sums up all in this telling word: “I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy iv. 7). The life of Paul in that should be the life of every Christian, for he says to us: “Fight the good fight of faith!” (1 Timothy vi. 12). It is Faith which, in spite of those fearful odds enumerated in today’s Epistle as being against us, it is Faith that ensures the victory to men of good will. If, in the warfare we must go through, we were to reckon the chances of our enemies by their overwhelming forces and advantages, it is quite certain that we should have little hope of winning the day: for it is not with men like ourselves, it is not, as the Apostle puts it, with flesh and blood, that we have to wrestle, but with enemies that we can never grapple with, who are in the high places of the air around us and are, therefore, invisible and most skilled, and powerful, and wonderfully up in all the sad secrets of our poor fallen nature, and turning the whole weight of their advantages to trick man and ruin him out of hatred for God. These wicked spirits were originally created that in the purity of their unmixed spiritual nature they should be a reflex of the divine splendour of their Maker. And now, having rebelled by pride, they exhibit that execrable prodigy of angelic intelligences spending all their powers in doing evil to man, and in hating truth.
How, then, are we who, by our very nature are darkness and misery, to wrestle with these spiritual principalities and powers who devote all their wisdom and rage to produce darkness so as to turn the whole Earth into a world of darkness? “By our becoming Light,” answers Saint John Chrysostom. The light, it is true, is not to shine on us in its own direct brightness until the great day of the revelation of the sons of God (Romans viii. 19), but meanwhile we have a divine subsidy which supplements sight. That subsidy is the Revealed Word (2 Peter ii. 19). Baptism did not open our eyes so as to see God, but it opened our ears so as to give us to hear Him when He speaks to us. Now He speaks to us by the Scriptures and by His Church, and our Faith gives us, regarding Truth thus Revealed, a certainty as great as though we saw it with the eyes of either body or soul, or both. By his child-like docility, the just man walks on in peace with the simplicity of the Gospel within him. Better than breastplate or helmet, the shield of faith protects us, and from every sort of injury. It blunts the fiery darts of the world, it repels the fury of our own passions, it makes us far-seeing enough to escape the most artful snares of the most wicked ones. Is not the word of God good for every emergency? And we may have it as often and as much as we please.
Satan has a horror of the Christian who, though he may be weak in other respects, is strong in this divine word. He has a greater fear of that man than he has of all your schools of philosophy, and all its professors. He has got accustomed to the torture of such a man crushing him beneath his feet (Romans xvi. 20) and with a rapidity (Romans xvi. 20) which is akin to what our Lord tells us He Himself witnessed: “I saw Satan, like lightning, falling from Heaven” (Luke x. 18): it was on the great battle-day (Apocalypse xii. 7) when he was hurled from paradise by that one word Michael — exquisite word, which was given to the triumphant Archangel to be his everlasting noble name! And he himself, by that word of God, and by that victory for God, was made our model and our defender. We have already explained to our readers why it is that these closing weeks of the Church’s Year are so full of the grand Archangel Saint Michael.Gospel – Matthew xviii. 23‒35
At that time, Jesus spoke to His disciples this parable: The Kingdom of Heaven is like a king who would take an account of his servants. And when he had begun to take the account, one was brought to him that owed him ten thousand talents: and as he had not the means to pay it, his lord commanded that he should be sold, and his wife and children, and all that he had, and payment be made. But that servant falling down besought him, saying, “Have patience with me, and I will pay you all.” And the lord of that servant, being moved with pity, let him go and forgave him the debt. But when that servant had gone out, he found one of his fellow-servants that owed him a hundred pence; and laying hold of him, he throttled him, saying, “Pay me what you owe.” And his fellow-servant falling down besought him, saying, “Have patience with me and I will pay you all.” And he would not, but went and cast him into prison till he paid the debt. Now his fellow-servants, seeing what was done, were very much grieved, and they came and told their lord all that had been done. Then his lord called him and said to him, “You wicked servant, I forgave you all the debt because you besought me; should not you then have had compassion also on you fellow-servant, as I had compassion on you?” And his lord being angry, delivered him to the torturers until he paid all the debt. So will my heavenly Father do to you, if you forgive not every one his brother from your hearts.Praise be to you, O Christ.
Dom Prosper Guéranger:
“O thou just Judge of vengeance (on man) grant us the gift of forgiveness, before the Day of reckoning cometh!” Such is the petition that comes from the heart of holy Mother Church as she thinks on what may have befallen those countless children of hers who have been victims of death during this, as every other, year. It is, moreover, the supplication that should be made by every living soul after hearing the Gospel just read to us. The Sequence Dies Irae from which these words are taken is not only a sublime prayer for the Dead. It is, likewise, and especially at this close of the Ecclesiastical Year, an appropriate expression for all of us who are still living. Our thoughts and our expectations are naturally turned towards our own deaths. We almost seem forgotten and overlooked in this evening of the world’s existence. But it is not so, for we know from the sacred Scripture that we will join those who have already slept the last sleep, and will be taken, together with them, to meet our divine Judge (1 Thessalonians iv. 14‒16).
Let us hearken to some more of our Mother’s words in that same magnificent Sequence. This is their meaning: “How great will be our fear when the Judge is just about to come, and rigorously examine all our works! The trumpet’s wondrous sound will pierce the graves of every land and summon us all before the throne! Death will stand amazed, and nature too, when the creature will rise again, to go and answer Him that is to judge! The written Book will be brought forth, in which all is contained, for which the world is to be tried. So, when the Judge will sit on his throne, every hidden secret will be revealed, nothing will remain unpunished! What shall I, poor wretch, then say? Who ask to be my patron, when the just man himself will scarce be safe? O King of dreaded majesty! who saves gratuitously them that are saved, save me, fount of love! Do thou remember, loving Jesu! that I was cause of your life on earth! Lose me not, on that Day!”
Undoubtedly, such a prayer as this has every best chance of being graciously heard, addressed as it is to Him who has nothing so much at heart as our salvation and who, for procuring it, gave Himself up to fatigue, and suffering, and death on the Cross: but we should be inexcusable, and deserve condemnation twice over, were we to neglect to profit of the advice He Himself gives us by which to avert from us the perils of “that day of tears, when guilty man will rise from the dust and go to be judged!” Let us, then, meditate on the parable of our Gospel, whose sole object is to teach us a sure way of settling, at once, our accounts with the divine King. We are all of us, in fact, that negligent servant, that insolvent debtor, whose master might in all justice sell him with all he has, and hand him over to the torturers. The debt contracted with God, by the sins we have committed, is of that nature as to deserve endless tortures. it supposes an eternal Hell in which the guilty one will ever be paying without ever cancelling his debt. Infinite praise, then, and thanks to the divine Creditor who, being moved to pity by the entreaties of the unhappy man who asks for time and he will pay all —yes, this good God grants him far beyond what he prays for, He, there and then, forgives him the debt. He puts but this condition on the pardon, as is evident from the sequel: He insists, and most justly, that he should go and do in like manner towards his fellow-servants who may, perhaps, owe something to him. After being so generously forgiven by his Lord and King — after having his infinite debt so gratuitously cancelled — how can he possibly turn a deaf ear to the very same prayer which won pardon for himself, now that a fellow servant makes it to him? Is it to be believed that he will refuse all pity towards one whose only offence is that he asks him for time, and he will pay all?
“It is quite true,” says Saint Augustine, “that every man has his fellow-man a debtor, for who is the man that has had no one to offend him? But, at the same time, who is the man that is not debtor to God, for all of us have sinned? Man, therefore, is both debtor to God, and creditor to his fellow-man. It is for this reason that God has laid down this rule for your conduct: that you must treat your debtor, as He treats his... We pray every day. Every day we send up the same petition to the divine throne. Every day we prostrate ourselves before God, and say to Him: “Forgive us our debts, as we forgive them that are debtors to us” (Matthew vi. 12) Of what debts speak you? Is it of all your debts? Or of one or two only? You will say: Of all. Do you therefore forgive your debtor, for it is the rule laid upon you. It is the condition accepted by you.”
“It is a greater thing,” says Saint John Chrysostom, “to forgive our neighbour the trespasses he has committed against us, than to condone him a sum of money. For, by forgiving him his sins, we imitate God.” And, after all, what is the injury committed by one man against another man, if compared with the offence committed by man against God? Alas! we have all got the habit of that second. Even the just man knows its misery seven times (Proverbs xxiv. 16) over and, as the text probably means, seven times a day, so that it comes ruffling our whole day long. Let this, at least, be our parallel habit: that we contract a facility in being merciful towards our fellow-men since we, every night, have the assurance given us that we will be pardoned all our miseries on the condition of our owning them. It is an excellent practice not to go to bed without putting ourselves in the dispositions of a little child who can rest his head on God’s bosom and there fall asleep. But if we thus feel it a happy necessity to find in the heart of our heavenly Father (Matthew vi. 9) forgetfulness of our day’s faults, yes, more an infinitely tender love for us His poor tottering children, how can we, at that very time, dare to be storing up in our minds old grudges and scores against our neighbours, our brethren, who are also His children? Even supposing that we had been treated by them with outrageous injustice or insult, could these their faults bear any comparison with our offences against that good God, whose born enemies we were, and whom we have caused to be put to an ignominious death?
Whatever may be the circumstances attending the unkindness shown us, we may and should invariably practise the rule given us by the Apostle: “Be kind one to another! Merciful! Forgiving one another, as God has forgiven you, in Christ! Be imitators of God, as most dear children!” (Ephesians iv. 32, v. 1). What! You call God your Father and you remember an injury that has been done you? “That,” says Saint John Chrysostom, “is not the way a son of God acts in! The work of a son of God is this — to pardon one’s enemies, to pray for them that crucify him, to shed his blood for them that hate him. Would you know the conduct of one who is worthy to be a son of God? He takes his enemies, and his ingrates, and his robbers, and his insulters, and his traitors, and makes them his brethren and sharers of all his wealth!”
