# Sermons from the Latins/Sermon 19

Second Sunday of Lent.
The Transfiguration.
"He was transfigured before them." — Matt. xvii. 2.
SYNOPSIS.
Ex. : I. Life and death. II. Church's liturgy. III. Raphael's Transfiguration.
I. Heaven : i. Inconceivable. 2. Pagan notions. 3. Earth's loveliest spots.
II. It consists: 1. In possessing God. 2. In being in accord with Him. 3. In enjoying delight of soul and body.
III. Its attainment : 1. Hand in picture. 2. Its meaning. 3. The Law and Gospel.
Per.: 1. Our idea of heaven. 2. Our efforts to attain it. 3. Our models.
SERMON.
Brethren, in the midst of life, alas, there is death, but happily, too, in the midst of death there is life. That is the idea of to-day's Gospel. He was transfigured before them. He had just been telling them of the tortures He was to endure, and of His death; of the lives of self-denial and the sufferings in store for them. "Far be it from us and Thee," they said, "to suffer such things." They were shocked and completely discouraged, and to fortify their shrinking souls He granted them a glimpse of heaven — He was transfigured before them. So, too, the Church; scarcely has the gloomy pall of the Lenten season closed around us, than she presents to our thoughts the glories of the Transfiguration. Like a skilful general to his army on the eve of battle, in the shadow of ​death she speaks to us of the joys of victory and the peace and happiness of our heavenly home. Christ and His Church lead us heavenward by alternate appeals to our hopes and our fears — for mental food they give us a judicious mixture of the bitter and the sweet. That is the idea we find embodied in Raphael's masterpiece — " The Transfiguration." Below is depicted the misery of human life — the tortured demoniac, the frantic appeals for help, and the vain efforts of even the Apostles to afford consolation or relief. But a hand points upward to the tower of comfort and support — Religion represented in the ecstasy of the Apostles, and heaven — the happy consummation of it all — reflected in the serene loveliness of the Saviour.
Brethren, when God promised Palestine to Abraham, He bade him lift up his eyes and view that region and walk in the length and the breadth thereof; and Moses while still in the desert was bidden to send messengers abroad to inspect the promised land. So, too, should we with regard to our promised land — the kingdom of heaven; but who shall be able to walk through the length and the breadth thereof? Glorious things are said of thee, O city of God, says the Psalmist, but the greater part of heaven's glories must be left untold, because even to conceive them hath not entered into the heart of man. Like all things most intimately associated with us, heaven is the best known and the least known. That there is life everlasting, our craving for happiness testifies, but what heaven is, where it is, what ​it contains, eye hath not seen nor ear heard. Even the imagination of a Dante or a Milton has found the description of heaven as hopeless a task, as did they seek to examine with the naked eye the midday sun. Reason, alone, unaided by faith, can give of heaven but the faintest, most shadowy picture. Among the ancient Pagan philosophers there are no less than two hundred and eighty-six opinions as to what constituted heaven, some holding it was the exercise of the highest virtue; others, the pursuit of knowledge; others, the enjoyment of all earthly blessings, etc. Their mistake was, first, in seeking to locate heaven in the enjoyment of some created thing, and since nothing created can have all the properties they instinctively felt the object of happiness should possess, they erred, secondly, in making that object not one as it should be, but the sum total of all created good things. So far, indeed, are all earthly things from being heaven, or a substitute for it, that it is only by excluding them and learning what heaven is not, that we can form any conception of what heaven really is. " In heaven," says St. Bernard, " there is nothing you can dislike and there is everything you can desire," and nothing short of that will ever satisfy the insatiable human heart. How, then, can earthly pleasure give the full joy of heaven, since pleasure, though sweet to the taste, grows bitter, and sours in the swallowing? How can virtue or knowledge be heaven, since virtue, however exalted, is perfected in infirmity; and knowledge, the most profound, is to learn how little ​we know? How can honors be heaven, since uneasy lies even the head that wears a crown; or riches, which only whet the appetite for more; or power, since timid kings must have their warlike bodyguards; or any or all created goods, since back of each we see the grim figure of death awaiting his turn? Some dying saints, they say, have received, ere death, the joys of heaven; and oftentimes, in dreams, we traverse fields Elysian, but, apart from empty dreams or doubtful vision, there is no heaven here. There is an island in a southern sea — the isle of Capri — the loveliest spot on earth — where Nature rivals God for man's affections, and God, to hold man's love, must needs perform a yearly miracle; and tourists call it paradise; but among the peasants I found the direst poverty, nor aught of happiness save one, a lonely hermit on the mountain top, his thoughts intent on God. Another day in the great St. Peter's, thronged with people from every land, the Pontiff celebrated Mass, and when the elevation came and every head, from prince to peasant, bowed, and sword and muskets clanged as soldiers kneeled, and a tiny ray of light played round the Pontiffs head, and a tiny ray of sound from a silver bell alone broke the stillness, till down from the dome came the heavenly music of the trumpeters — then people said 'twas heaven, and, truth to say, 'twas like it — but no! many a sinful, unbelieving heart was there, many a sorrow-laden soul; many a form bending under a weight of woe as heavy as that of the heartbroken Leo; but for heaven, we must look higher still — to ​the consecrated Host, to the transfigured Saviour, to God; for we read in St. John, that this is " eternal life — to know Thee — the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent."
Brethren, the vision, the possession, of God, and that alone, is heaven, just as the loss of God, and that alone, is hell. Our yearning for happiness will not be appeased by shadows of God's perfections such as creatures are; it demands the reality — God Himself. " When Thy glory shall have appeared," says the Psalmist, " I shall be satisfied." And never sooner — and why? " Because," says St. John, " we will be like Him when we see Him as He is." Our happiness and that of God will be identical, consisting in the contemplation of Himself — the all-true, the all-good, the all-beautiful. As the moon and stars catching the sun's rays are made to resemble the sun itself, so the beatified souls shine like the Sun of Justice Himself, in the kingdom of their Father. The riches of the beatific vision fill the measure of all our heart's desires. " I am thy reward, exceeding great," says the Lord. Our soul with its memory, understanding, and will, is a triangle of infinite extent, which this earthly globe can never fill, which nothing can ever fill but that other infinite triangle, the three in one — the triune God, who fills it with good measure and pressed down and flowing over. Besides the riches of the Divinity, we will enjoy in heaven unlimited power — a certain omnipotence. Our wills shall be so attuned to that of God, that our wish becomes His and His ours, so that of us as of Him it ​will be true that we will be able to do all things in heaven and on earth and no one shall be able to resist our will. And as for honors, He has promised that whosoever shall have conquered in the battle of life, He will give him to sit with Him in His throne, even as He hath conquered and sitteth in the throne with the Father. If, even here, worldly power is transitory and the glory of the saints more enduring than brass, how much more so hereafter, where true merit is never overlooked and honors are eternal! Our temple of fame will there be founded on the eternal rock and not, as here, on the shifting sands of time. And as for pleasure, — who shall foretell the joys of heaven! " Lord, it is good for us to be here," cried the three Apostles, and in the ecstasy of the moment, forgetful of all else, they proposed to build three tabernacles wherein the vision might last and they enjoy it forever. When the Queen of Saba visited Solomon she exclaimed: " O blessed are thy servants who stand before thee always and hear thy wisdom! " But far more blessed they who stand forever face to face with the God of Solomon— the Author of wisdom and goodness. If faith, hope, and charity, are at the bottom of every true enjoyment here, as they are, what will be our delight when faith becomes the vision of God, when hope becomes possession, and charity is perfected ! Delight, not for the soul alone, but for the body too — where the eyes shall feast on the glories of God, of Mary and the blessed; and the ears be ravished with heavenly music; where loving friends are reunited to share ​each other's joys, not for a day or a year, but forever. " For God," says St. Paul, " shall wipe away all tears from their eyes and death shall be no more, nor mourning, nor crying, nor sorrow, but joy perennial, and happiness eternal." And all this in a land as lovely as a dream. Look up to heaven on a starry night and reflect, if the outer walls of God's city are so magnificent, what must be the splendor of the interior! Consider all this and you will say with the Psalmist: " Thy friends, O God, are made exceeding honorable." You will agree with St. Paul that " the sufferings of this life are not worthy to be compared to the glory to come."
Brethren, I would be to you, this morning, the hand pointing to the transfigured Saviour — to heaven. I would have that vision so fill you with hope and encouragement that you would exclaim: " Lord, it is good for us to be here " — that your thoughts would wander thither often— that you would ardently desire to abide there forever and act accordingly. And what, you ask, must I do to gain eternal life? " If you would enter into life," says Our Lord, " keep the commandments." How small the labor! How unspeakable the reward! In the Old Law, to keep the commandments was a difficult task, for man had no example to follow. God said to Abraham: " Walk thou before Me and be perfect and I will be your reward, exceeding great." But in the New Law, Christ leads the way, and only asks that each take up his cross and follow Him— only asks that each perform the ordinary duties of his state and ​patiently endure the ills of life, from the higher motive of pleasing God and gaining heaven.
Brethren, are we doing that little? Do we regard heaven as a shadowy myth or a reality; or if a reality, do we act up to it? What are we doing, what are we willing to do for heaven? Not half, I venture to say what we would endure to gain a purse of gold, or a fat office, or a moment of sensuous pleasure. Consider the mighty efforts men put forth to accomplish worldly ends — a loss of energy which, if rightly used, would raise the whole world up to God. On the other hand, consider how little is done for heaven; how rare the ideal Christian. Ah, we sow sparingly, and unless God, out of pure benevolence, gives the increase, we will reap sparingly. Mediocrity is the curse of modern Christianity, for he who is content with mediocrity is the devil's right-hand man. And yet, mediocre as we are, we expect the reward of saints. Think of the saints — the lives they lived and the deaths they died, and ask yourself — how like am I to them, what will become of me, since even they trembled for their destiny? Not that we can all be monks and nuns, but we can, at least, cultivate their spirit. If we cannot be poor in fact, we can be poor in spirit. If we cannot suffer persecution and die martyrs, we can, at least, be meek and humble. If we cannot take the vow of chastity, we can, at least, be clean of heart. And talk as we may, criticise as we may, we must admit that the humble monk and gentle nun have best solved the problem of salvation. Mark them well; their calm faces, and sweet plaintive ​voices, and spare frames and gentle manners, and hearts weaned from the world, and wills subdued. And though their meekness meet with insult and their purity with slander and their gravity with suspicion, still they have Christ for their portion, and enjoy a continuous ecstasy before their transfigured Saviour. Brethren, let us follow their lead, that when they shall have come into the high places prepared for them, you and I also may take our lowly station in the kingdom of the Father.