# Sermons from the Latins/Sermon 53

Nineteenth Sunday After Pentecost.
The Denial and its Consequences.
" The kingdom of heaven is likened to a king who made a marriage for his son" — Matt. xxii. 2.
SYNOPSIS.
Ex. : I. History of religion. II. Mercy and justice. III. Infidelity, faith, charity.
I. Marriage: i. Proposal. i. Betrothment. 3. Ends in view.
II. Invitation : 1. Patriarchs and prophets. 2. Apostles. 3. Dives and Lazarus.
III. Call rejected : 1. Jews. 2. Gentiles. 3. Faith and charity.
Per. : Parable a lesson in faith, hope, and charity.
SERMON.
Brethren, the parable of to-day's Gospel, brief as it is, sums up the entire history of religion. It is a story of divine mercy and justice on the one hand, and of human ingratitude and its consequent punishment on the other. It deals with the one event, the incarnation, around which cluster all the other facts of sacred history. With that mystery as a standpoint, glancing into the past and again into the future, it divides the whole human race into unbelievers and believers, and the latter it subdivides into those who believe only in word and in tongue, and those who believe in deed and in truth. Believers and doers of God's will are admitted, but unbelievers and mere believers are either admitted only to be ignominiously expelled, or utterly excluded from the celestial banquet prepared for the blessed in the kingdom of the Father.
​A certain king made a marriage for his son. The king is God the Father, and the marriage, the union of the divine and human natures in the single personality of Jesus Christ. Most appropriately, indeed, is the incarnation likened to a marriage. First came the betrothment; the declaration of the divine Son's love, as sung by the inspired Solomon in the Canticle of Canticles, and His promises to the patriarchs and the prophets. Then the Father, through Gabriel, announced to Mary His will and His consent, and she, the mother of regenerated humanity, answered for her daughter: " Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done unto me according to thy word." Then the marriage, whereby in very truth two become one — two natures so closely united in one person that, unlike other marriages, not even death itself could separate them. Thenceforward, too, the Royal Prince and His lowly peasant spouse shared all things in common; she, His supernatural attributes, and He, her human infirmities. Nay more, a certain familiarity, a certain relationship was thus established between the relatives and followers of each; that happy intercourse between earth and heaven known as the communion of saints. Finally, the usual ends for which royal marriages are contracted are apparent here. There was the love of the betrothed; God so loved the world as to give His only-begotten Son. There was the dire warfare of earth with heaven, which ended only at the incarnation, when the angels proclaimed: " Glory to God and peace to men." There were the rich ​possessions of the bridegroom, to which humanity longed to be made heir. There was need of a remedy for sin, and " it is," says St. Paul, " a true saying and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ came to save sinners." There were vacant thrones in heaven, and no heirs apparent, but when the Word became flesh, God gave as many as received Him the power to be made the sons of God because "born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God." Rightly, therefore, is the hypostatic union called a marriage which the King of kings made for His divine Son.
And He sent His servants to call them that were invited to the marriage, and they would not come. Notice they had been already invited and are now simply reminded that the happy day has come. For ages the patriarchs and prophets had foretold to the Jews the future incarnation of the Son of God, and bade them prepare, besides the robe of faith, the nuptial garment of charity; but now, when John the Baptist, the Apostles and disciples, bid them to the long-looked-for feast, they refuse to come. But God, rich in mercy and patience, sent other servants, saying: " Behold I have prepared My dinner; all things are ready; come ye to the wedding." This second band of messengers are the selfsame Apostles and disciples, but they are called " other servants because upon them, in the meantime, the Holy Ghost had descended. Thus (I. King x.) Samuel says to Saul: "The Spirit of the Lord shall come upon thee and thou shalt be changed into another ​man." The Apostles after Christ's Ascension, transformed by the Spirit from timid men into heroes, made a second and more impassioned appeal to the Jews to admit the incarnation and embrace Christianity. But no; the Jews neglected; and while some went their ways to their farms and their merchandise, others treated the King's servants contumeliously and put them to death. You may think, perhaps, that this king, to faithfully represent God, should have sent his servants with invitations to the poor rather than to the rich, but remember that possessors of great wealth are oftenest, in the sight of God, the poorest of the poor. It is a sad commentary on them that the rich, in the ages of persecution, were ever the first to apostatize. " Give up all and follow Me " is for the rich man, at all times, even at death, a fearful trial which the poor man is happily spared. It is sadder still that a man's riches and his relish for spiritual things follow an inverse ratio. Talk to Dives of faith or the nuptial garment of charity! Pshaw! Purple and fine linen, or even the workaday garments of the shop or counting-house, are good enough for him. What cares he for a banquet of spiritual delights! Let Lazarus have all that and welcome, but for himself, he is content to feast sumptuously and more substantially every day. It is saddest of all, that, in the attainment of their coveted millions, they will not allow even human lives to block their way. Dives's millions! how many human lives do they represent; how many neglected opportunities; how many tears of widow and orphan; how ​many broken hearts; how many citizens disfranchised; how many laws perverted; how many crimes of oppression, extortion, injustice, cry from their midst to heaven for vengeance!
" And the king, being angry, sent his armies and destroyed those murderers and burned their city." From the past the parable now turns to the future, and foretells the most signal instance of divine vengeance that history affords — the siege and capture and destruction of Jerusalem. Thirty-seven years after Christ's Ascension, a Roman army, guided and aided from on high, attacked the Jewish capital, captured and enslaved ninety-seven thousand; slew sixteen hundred thousand; burned the Temple and razed the city to the ground. Forbearance had ceased to be a virtue, and God slew those murderers and burned their city. The wedding, indeed, was ready, but they that were invited were not worthy. What food for reflection here, my Brethren! How often since then has Christ's invitation to that feast, where He is both host and banquet, been scornfully refused or neglected! " Come to Me," He says, " all ye that labor and are burdened, and I will refresh you." But men mistrust Him. They fear His yoke is neither sweet nor His burden light, and so they turn from Him to the world, its allurements and its slavery. As surely as the darkness follows the light, so surely will God's vengeance overtake these men and destroy these murderers of their own souls, and burn those temples of pleasure, their vile bodies. But God's mercy, though superseded for a moment ​by His justice, was by no means exhausted. Once again He sent forth His servants into the highways to gather together as many as they found, both bad and good, till the wedding was filled with guests. It was the call of the Gentiles to the Christian faith, that call that has rung down the ages, that has rung out to-day from so many Catholic pulpits; from the steeples of so many Christian temples. The royal banquet-hall is to-day the Christian Church, and the vast numbers of baptized Christians therein collected speak volumes for the assiduity of the King's servants and the docility of those they invited. The proud, self-sufficient Jew thanked God he was not like other men, and spurned the invitation; but the lowly Gentile, though the call came to him secondhand, bowed an humble acknowledgment, " Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner," and accepted it without question. The wedding was filled with guests and the King's heart, though still yearning for His own, His chosen ones, was consoled, nevertheless, as was the heart of the prodigal's father by the continuous presence of his dutiful son. But among His guests He sees one who has not on the wedding-garment of charity. Many had come, both good and bad — many clothed in the filth and rags of iniquity, but by the bounty of the host and the efforts of His servants all but one had been clothed in that garment that covereth a multitude of sins. One persisted in outraging the etiquette of the occasion, and, once again, mercy gave place to justice and he is cast out into the exterior darkness.
​Herein the parable follows the course of religion even to our own times by refuting the arch-heresy of the latter days — the Protestant theory of salvation. " The good alone," say they, " belong to the Church, and faith alone shall save them." But the parable teaches that faith may be possessed by and procure admission alike for bad and good, but that if one lack charity he is, though admitted, practically an outcast. Think of it, Brethren, there are numbers of Christians in the world, in this parish, here to-day, led to Church every Sunday by a sense of duty, the outgrowth of their faith, who imagine they are thus fulfilling the whole law, but who, because they have not charity, because they are habitually in the state of mortal sin, are little better than reprobates, and, but for God's mercy, would have been long since irrevocably cast into exterior darkness. But God's mercy surpasseth all understanding. So, as one accepts the invitation at all, however unworthy he may be, there is still hope that God will do the rest, for He temporizes and would fain be friends with the very worst. Especially is this so under the law of mercy — the Christian dispensation. Of all the guests only one was expelled. On the judgment day, it may be that from the many called few will be chosen. But that thought should not be a discouragement to Christians. Of those invited secondhand one only was found unworthy. Up to the time of Christ, practically all had refused the invitation and were lost; so that were even all Christians, or, as I confidently believe, the vast majority of Christians ​to be saved, it would still be true on the judgment day that " many were called but few were chosen."
Brethren, to-day's parable is the most marvellous piece of history ever written, recounting with equal exactness events of the past and future, summing up in a few words the religious history of centuries, inculcating the soundest moral, and teaching the deepest dogmatic truths, refuting errors ages before they had arisen. How truly did the Jews say of Christ: "Never did man speak as this man!" He exhibits to us His mercy, ever foremost, but His justice, too, glancing over mercy's shoulder ready to strike after the days of forbearance. He teaches, moreover, that not every man who says "Lord, Lord," shall be saved, but he who doeth the will of the Father, he shall be saved. A firm faith, an abiding hope, an ardent charity, these, together with an humble bearing and a docile mind, are the chief requisites for the ideal Christian who would fain be not only as one called of God, but also as His chosen friend in the kingdom of heaven.