# Hunolt Sermons/Volume 9/Sermon 24

TWENTY-FOURTH SERMON.
ON THE JUSTICE OF THE DIVINE DECREES.
Subject.
We must believe and hold it for certain that everything is good, right, and just in the highest degree that Divine Providence does with us and with everything and everybody in the whole world, although we cannot now understand the reason of this justice and goodness.—Preached on the tenth Sunday after Pentecost.
Text.
Dico vobis, descendit hic justificatus in domum suam ab illo.—Luke xviii. 14.
“I say to you, this man went down into his house justified rather than the other.”
Introduction.
If one of us had seen these two men and the different lives they led, he would most likely have approved of the first, and condemned the second in his own mind. For when a man is ​able to declare himself free from so many vices, such as theft, injustice, adultery, to thank God in fervent prayer for benefits received, to fast and chastise his flesh often during the week, to give a tenth part of all his goods to the poor, are not those praiseworthy holy works and occupations which show a man to be a pious, just servant of God? On the other hand, what is more scandalous than to see a man wallowing in all sorts of wickedness, so that he is publicly called a sinner? Yet how different was the judgment pronounced by Our Lord on the two men! “I say to you this man went down into his house justified rather than the other.” Who would look on such a judgment as just if he did not know it came from the infallible Truth? My dear brethren, many things of the kind happen in the world, and if we were to dare to condemn them, we should make a grievous mistake; still worse should we err by presuming to murmur against and find fault with the hidden decrees and dispensations of Divine Providence; yet that is an error into which many fall, who seem to themselves learned and clever. These over-curious people I must again address in the words of St. Paul: “O man, who art thou that repliest against God?” Who art thou who in a spirit of curiosity darest to investigate the wonderful work ings of Divine Providence in the government of the world, nay, to criticise them, murmur against them, find fault with them, and ask why this or that is done in such a manner? Who art thou? A blind, ignorant mortal, who dost not understand, canst not, and what is more, shouldst not understand the reasons of the divine dispensations, which God has determined not to make public till the last day of general judgment. Therefore thy conduct is foolish in scrutinizing or judging those decrees, and presumptuous in condemning them. Wait till the work of the great Master is completed; then there will be full opportunity of seeing it all. There you have, my dear brethren, the whole subject of my sermon on last Sunday. Yet another point remains: may we not, then, express any opinion on the decrees and dispensations of God’s providence in this life? Of course we may, and that is not only allowed, but it is even our duty to do so, as we shall now see.
Plan of Discourse.
Our judgment of them should be that everything is good, right, and just in the highest degree that Divine Providence does with ​us and everybody in the whole world, although we cannot now understand the reason of this justice and goodness, nay, although many decrees may now appear unjust and inconsistent to our un derstanding, as I now proceed to prove. If we have once rightly seen the matter and formed our judgment on it, the conclusion shall follow of its own accord, that, namely, ive must be always completely and quietly resigned to the will of God.
This resolution of our will we expect and humbly beg of Thee, O God of goodness, through the prayers of Thy Mother Mary, from whose hands Thou hast decreed that all graces should come, and through the intercession of our holy guardian angels.
We must always give a celebrated artist the credit of working according to rule, although we may not understand the work. The proverb says that every master should be believed in his own art, and he who sees an artist at work, if he is discreet, must at once conclude that whatever the artist is doing is according to rule, although he who forms that opinion may not be able to see the design of the work; this is especially the case when the artist is celebrated, and still more so when he has said that the work he is engaged on will be a beautiful one. We form the same opinion of works that we may never have seen. Thus if a man says: I have at home a picture by Rubens, every one who hears him and knows anything of Rubens’ fame will at once exclaim: What a beautiful picture it must be! But how do you know that? I ask. You have not seen the picture nor the painter, nor do you even know what the subject of the painting is. Why do you not go and examine it before approving of it? No; that is not necessary, will be the answer; I need not see either the picture or the painter, or know what subject he has chosen; if Rubens’ name is on the canvas it is enough for me to conclude that the work must be a fine one. When the Indians first saw a clock they were so struck with admiration that they would spend the whole day gazing at it open-mouthed; they saw the pendulum swinging to and fro, and heard the rattling of the wheels when the clock struck; sometimes it struck one, sometimes two or three, and so on. What a strange thing, thought they; there must be something hidden in it! Is it altogether natural? But the simple people nevertheless praised the work, and were of the opinion that great skill was required to complete it; great was their admiration of the man who could make such a wonderful machine, and if they could have got hold of him, there is little doubt they would have looked on him as a kind of god.
​Much more should we have a good opinion of what God’s Providence does in the world, although we cannot grasp it. Now, my dear brethren, if we with good reason form such a favorable opinion of the works of man, although we do not understand them, and form that opinion simply because we trust every master in his own art, what judgment should we, must we, form of the works of Divine Providence? When we consider what goes on in this world, it appears to us not otherwise than as a mighty clock, in which there are many different wheels, some large, others small; some turn here, others there; that is, one man has a wide sphere of action, another a very small one; one is seated on a throne in great honor, another lies on the ground, poor and neglected; one is rich, another poor; one healthy, another sick; one idle, another busy from morning till night, like the pendulum of the clock; one is prosperous and fortunate, another tried with sorrow and affliction; for one the clock strikes too soon, for another too late: many things seem to us inconsistent, many actually unjust, and most things inexplicable; we are quite bewildered at what we see around us; but let us seek out the Master who is still working at this clock and putting each part of it into its place, until it shall be completely finished at the end of the world.
For God is the Master, who arranges all. Who is this Master and Artist? The almighty, most wise, and most just God, whom we have never seen, but of whom we know for certain that He cannot go wrong in anything, that He is “holy in all His works.” Oh, therefore must we think, and firmly believe that whatever this Artist begins and completes must be good and right, and as it should be, and that it could not be done better; and although we may not understand the reason of it, this one fact, God has so ordained it, should suffice to make us form that judgment. One who is making a voyage in a ship begins to doubt if the course steered is the right one; it should be enough to resolve his doubts to tell him that the captain’s orders are being followed out, especially when the captain is an experienced sailor who knows his way over the sea, and has often made that voyage before. In the same way when a prisoner is sentenced to death, and you doubt whether his sentence is a just one, it should satisfy you to be told that the sovereign pronounced on the man after having carefully weighed the evidence on both sides, especially when you know the sovereign to be just and upright. In olden times amongst the Grecian philosophers of the school of Pythagoras, all doubtful questions ​and all matters of controversy were solved at once by the sole authority of Pythagoras; if it could be affirmed with certainty that he had said anything, that was enough to confirm it as an indisputable fact. Ah, Christians! why should it not suffice for us in all our doubts about the ordinations of Providence in this world to think: God has decreed it; it is His will; it is He who guides every one on the ocean of life; it is He who has pronounced sentence in this case; therefore everything cannot be otherwise than right and just; for He is an infinitely wise Teacher and Master; He is the most experienced Guide, the most just Judge?
And He tells us too that His works are good and just. And for a still stronger reason should we form that judgment of Him since He tells us Himself in Holy Writ that He is just in all His decrees and works, and has, as it were, boastingly promised us that on that day when all His works shall be fully completed we shall praise and approve of them. Again, therefore, this one fact should suffice for us, although we see before our eyes things that to our weak understanding appear unjust and inconsistent; this one fact should be enough to convince us even against our reason and the testimony of our senses that all He does is right and just, and could not be done better. In the very same way, although in the Blessed Sacrament of the Alter, I imagine that I see and smell and feel and touch nothing but bread, yet I believe firmly the contrary, and say without the least hesitation: no, it is not bread; it is the body and blood of rny Lord and Saviour. I do not understand this mystery, but I believe it; it is true. Why? Because He has said it.
We believe many incomprehensible things, because God has said them. And how many things has not God created in the world that seem incomprehensible, nay, incredible to us? and still we must acknowledge them to be true. Who would believe, if God had not revealed it, that the whole vast mass of the universe was created and furnished by a single word! Who would believe that the sovereign, infinite God became man, was born a little child, grew up to manhood, suffered hunger and thirst, was nailed to a cross, and died? Who would believe that the bodies that we now have, which shall decay in the earth, or be reduced to ashes, or devoured by wild beasts—who would believe that they shall be restored again to the form they now have, and be again endowed with life? Any one would say of these and similar mysteries before they actually occur, or are revealed by God, that they are simply impossible, they cannot be; and yet we now say and acknowledge that they have happened and shall ​happen; God has done as He has said and will do so again, for nothing is impossible to Him.
Especially the spread of the Christian faith. Consider the beginning and progress of our religion. What a wonderful, incomprehensible thing it is! Who would ever have thought that twelve poor, ignorant, uncouth fishermen, such as the apostles were before their conversion, should be able to change the whole world, and to convince kings, emperors, and philosophers that they had been living in abominable errors, that their gods, to whom most magnificent temples had been erected almost everywhere over the world, were only instruments and tools of the devils? Who would believe that they should be able to persuade the Jews that the religion which they had received from their holy leader Moses, and which was revealed to him by God, was only a figure of ours, and was now of no more value? Who would believe that they should be able to persuade the nations of the world to abjure idolatry, and acknowledge and adore as the true God a poor Man who was crucified as a criminal, to love Him above all things with their whole hearts, and for His sake to suffer all the torments that could be inflicted on them, and a thousand deaths, if it were possible? Who would ever have imagined that those poor fishermen could persuade the world to adopt a religion and faith that appears to contradict natural reason, and comfort, arid sensuality, nay, to be opposed to nature itself; a religion in which poverty is more valued than riches, humiliations more than honors, crosses and trials more than all the joys of earth, for Christ’s sake, and that too merely through the hope of a future kingdom to be enjoyed after the death and decay of the body, a kingdom that no one has seen, a heaven that no one has ever laid eyes on, a happiness that no one has ever had experience of? Yet those poor fishermen succeeded in doing all this, without as much as a staff in their hands to drive off a barking dog, and that too they did although they were beaten out of one city into another, while all those who accepted their teaching and obeyed the law preached by them were tortured in the most frightful manner, and put to death by tyrants. Who could have believed such a thing possible before it actually took place? If I were to say to you: the great city of Rome or Constantinople shall in a short time be plundered and destroyed by twelve flies, who would credit my words? Certainly not one of you, my dear brethren. For my part I could not believe such a thing. And is it more incredible than that twelve ignorant ​men should change the world in such a manner? And yet they did so; no Christian can deny it; God has said it; God has carried His words into effect.
Therefore whatever God ordains we must look on as just, because He Himself says it is rightly ordained. For whenever God does anything we must look, not at the apparent possibility or credibility of the matter, but at the unlimited power of the Almighty, to whom nothing is impossible, although we may not be capable of seeing how the thing is done. Now if we hold everything as true that God has done and said, because He is almighty and infallible, although we may not understand what He has done, why should we not also look on whatever Divine Providence effects in the world as just and right, although we sometimes cannot see how things can be just or right? For God is not less holy and just than powerful, and He has said too that all His decrees are right and just. If the infinite power of God can produce effects that surpass our understanding, why should not Divine Providence also ordain things that we cannot explain, nay, that seem to us inconsistent? If we poor mortals could grasp the works and decrees of God, He would not be a wonderful, incomprehensible God. Meanwhile we are all the more bound to submit humbly our understanding, and to approve of as just and right everything that such a wonderful, incomprehensible, most wise and just and holy God ordains in the world by His inscrutable decrees.
The works of men often seem foolish to us, until we understand them, when we are forced to approve of them. Shown by examples. But why do I speak of the works and decrees of God? How many acts and plans of men do we not condemn as foolish, inconsistent, and wicked, because we do not understand the motive of them, while it we happen to nave them properly explained to us afterwards we see that they were reasonable, sensible, and holy? The Sultan Amurath, as Nanus writes in his History of the Turks, was attacked by a grievous illness, and as he lay on his bed he commanded all the crystal vessels that he had collected from all parts of the world to be brought before him, and then broken in pieces; nor would he rest until his command was fulfilled to the letter. Now tell me why he acted in that manner? Would you not say that he was in a delirium from the fever, since he gave such a foolish command? Or else that he acted through a spirit of grudging, not wishing that others should have the vessels that he could no longer use? Such should have been our opinion if we had been present on the occasion; but we should have been grievously mistaken. Amurath got well again, and after his recovery explained the reason of his conduct; he had often drunk ​to excess out of those crystal goblets, and thereby injured his health; so he made a vow never more to drink wine during his life, and lest the sight of the beautiful goblets should tempt him to break his resolution, he had them all broken. Who would have thought that? And must we not now acknowledge that the emperor, whom we accused as having acted foolishly, was in reality very wise and prudent in what he did?
Confirmed by another. Anaxagoras came, one hot summer’s day, to the public games, where many people were assembled, with a heavy glazed hat on his head, thick boots, and a warm tunic, over which he wore a heavy mantle, while other people could hardly bear the thinnest garments on account of the great heat. All who saw him laughed at him as a fool, because he took such precautions against the cold in such warm weather. No doubt if we had been present we should have laughed at him also. But the laughter did not last long. In a short time a heavy shower of rain fell from the clouds and inundated the place in which the games were held, so that the people had almost to swim for their lives. Then they saw the wisdom of what they had looked on as folly; for Anaxagoras alone, who had foreseen the storm by his knowledge of the stars, remained dry, and warm, and uninjured. Countless things of the kind are done by men from very good and praiseworthy motives which are condemned as foolish, inconsistent, and superstitious by those who do not understand the reason of them. And therefore it is a Christian maxim that we should look on our neighbor as upright and honest until we find him out to be a rogue. Mark this well, as often as you hear calumnious or detracting talk about others.
It would be the same with the works and decrees of God, if we understood them. Shown by an example. How much more, then, should we not form that good opinion of the God of infinite wisdom and justice, who cannot err in His judgments and decrees, although we may not understand them? Father Nierenberg tells us of a hermit who used daily to beg of God in fervent prayer to reveal to him some of the secrets of His Providence. An angel appeared to him in the guise of a hermit, and said to him: “Come with me and we shall visit some of our brethren who live in this desert.” First they came to a very holy man, by whom they were greeted in a most friendly manner and hospitably entertained. When leaving the place the angel stealthily took up a jar in which the hermit used to carry water, and took it away with him. The pious man, soon after they were gone, sought for the jar, and not finding it, suspected ​a theft and sent a boy after them to demand the stolen jar back again; but the angel took his stick and struck the boy dead with it. They then came to the hut of another hermit who gave them a very rough reception, and eventually beat them away from his door. The angel gave to this inhospitable man the jar he had taken from the other hermit. He then said to his companion, who through reverence and astonishment at such conduct had not dared to say a word: “Now I will tell you the reason of all that I have done; the jar was formerly acquired by theft, and it was not fitting that a holy man should have such a thing in his possession, although he knew nothing of its having been unjustly acquired; therefore I took it from him,, and gave it to the other, for we must return good for evil. The boy whom I killed would, if he had lived one night longer, have slain his pious master; and to preserve him from such a crime I took away his life while he was still in his first innocence.” “These are the judgments of God.” The angel then vanished. So far Nierenberg. Now I again ask you, my dear brethren, if we had been present, what would we have thought of the occurrence? Is it not very ungrateful to steal from a holy man, who had shown himself so friendly, the only domestic utensil almost that he had in his possession? And was it not a strange thing to give it to one who deserved nothing but punishment for his rudeness? And was it not a most cruel injustice to kill an innocent youth? Doubtless the hermit, and we with him, would have been of that opinion. For who could have dreamt or imagined that such actions could have proceeded from a just and righteous motive, if God Himself had not revealed it by His angel?
Confirmed by another. One more point: many considering the case of Lucifer and the host of rebel angels who with him were hurled down out of heaven, pity those spirits, and think the justice of God very strict indeed in not allowing those princes of heaven any time for mercy or repentance, and precipitating them at once into eternal torments, where for one sin of thought they must undergo frightful tortures forever. But if I were to tell you that after their first sin Lucifer and his followers became so hardened in guilt and in the hatred of God that they would not wish to leave hell even if God allowed them to do so, and would not accept His grace and pardon if He offered it to them, would you believe that? And if it be true, would not every one acknowledge that ​it is but right and just that those hardened spirits should be tormented forever in hell? And such, my dear brethren, is the case. St. Brigid in the Book of her Revelations testifies to the fact of having seen a fallen angel at the judgment-seat of God, and heard him say these words to the Almighty: “Even if I could be saved, I should not wish it.” Why not? “Lest Thou shouldst have any joy from me on account of my loving Thee for all eternity.” Who could think such a thing possible if it were not revealed? Thus we see that the divine decrees and ordinations are always just, holy, and right, once we know the causes and reasons of them.
Hence we should have a good opinion of them, although we do not understand them, simply because they are from God. But if we are ignorant of the causes and reasons of many other decrees and arrangements of Divine Providence, is that a reason for looking on them as unjust? Do they not proceed from the same infinitely good, wise, holy, and just God? Ah, says Salvianus, and with his beautiful words I conclude, “let the Author and Cause, God, suffice to me in place of all reasons.” Let a man speculate as much as he likes; let him ask me what questions he pleases; why God, who is so good and holy, allows so much evil to exist in the world; why God, who has suffered the death of the cross for us men, should condemn so many millions of souls to hell; why there are so many millions of infidels, heathens, idolaters, Turks, Jews, and heretics to whom the mysteries of our faith have never been preached; why generally speaking the innocent must suffer, while the wicked prosper; why potentates are allowed by God to wage war on each other so often, to the great detriment of harmless people, who have riot given the slightest cause for war and are thereby reduced to poverty, etc. Let him ask me these and a hundred similar questions, and my only answer shall be, “Let the Author and Cause, God, suffice to me in place of all reasons.” God has decreed it; God permits it; God has ordained it; therefore all is permitted or decreed with the utmost justice, goodness, and holiness. This conclusion is logical enough.
Conclusion and resignation to God’s will in all things. Truly, O Lord, we acknowledge with the Hebrew youths: “Thou art just in all that Thou hast done to us, and all Thy works are true, and Thy ways right, and all Thy judgments true.” Whatever Thy all-wise Providence does with us and with all in ​the world is right, holy, and just; and as we now acknowledge this, we must again repeat the oft-made resolution of committing ourselves to Thee in all circumstances, at all times, with quiet, confident hearts, and submitting cheerfully our will to all Thy decrees, whether they are sweet or bitter to our natural inclinations; and Thy decrees shall be dear to us for the sole reason that they come from Thee, O God! Drexelius writes that when Harpagus had unwittingly eaten some of the flesh of his own son, and the tyrant As ty ages, who had prepared the horrid banquet for him, placed the members of the son, such as the head, the arms, and the feet, before the father, and asked him whether he knew the head, and how he had liked what he had already eaten, Harpagus answered with downcast eyes: “All that the king does is well done, and is pleasing to me.” The philosopher Epictetus said that he would wish to utter sincerely and fervently these words when dying, directing them to God with an upright intention: “I willingly grew sick because Thou didst wish it; I was poor because it was Thy will; I was never in a position of authority to my great content, because Thou didst so ordain; hast Thou seen me sad on that account? Have I ever appeared before Thee with sorrowful countenance? I am ready for all that Thou wishest to lay on me or to command me. And my wish is that death may find me meditating, and writing and reading these things.” O my Lord and my God, that barbarian who to please his king was satisfied to eat the flesh of his own son, that heathen who was so submissive to Thy will, how they put to shame the discontent, impatience, murmuring, and disobedience of which I have been guilty hitherto, whenever Thou didst require anything from me contrary to my inclination, although Thou hast bestowed on me so many marks of Thy favor! Ah, should I not rather therefore think and say: all that Thou, O God, dost is well done, and is pleasing to me too? Yes, so shall it be with me in future; all that Thou, O my God, wiliest I too shall desire; all that displeases Thee shall displease me too. What pleases Thee shall please me, because it is Thy will. If Thou wilt that I be poor then I wish to be poor, because it is Thy will; that I be despised and persecuted, then I wish to be so, because it is Thy will; that I lie sick and suffering, in ​bed, then I wish it, because it is Thy will, and I will imitate St. Francis of Assisi, who, as Nebridius writes, when he was attacked by a grievous illness, threw down his suffering limbs on the ground, and kissing the earth humbly, said: Eternal thanks to Thee, O God, for all the pains Thou hast sent me! Increase them a hundred-fold, if such is Thy will; there is nothing more agreeable to me than pains and sickness which come from Thy holy will! For the fulfilment of that will causes me ineffable joy. So will I think and say in all circumstances: all that Thou ordainest and commandest for me and mine, both now and in the future, is and shall be agreeable to me, because it is Thy will; therewith I shall be always satisfied; Thy holy will be done! Amen.
Another introduction to the same sermon for the third Sunday of Advent.
Text.
Tu quis es?—John i. 19.
“Who art thou?”
Introduction.
What the Jews said in to-day’s Gospel to St. John, “Who art thou?” that I say again with the apostle, “O man, who art thou” etc. Continues as before.
* ↑ O homo, tu quis es, qui respondeas Deo?—Rom, ix. 20.
* ↑ Sanctus in omnibus operibus ejus.—Ps. cxliv. 13.
* ↑ Hæc sunt judicia Dei.
* ↑ Quamvis possem salvari; nollem tamen; ne tu de me aliquod gaudium habeas.
* ↑ Satis mini sit pro universis rationibus Author et Ordinator, Deus.—Salv. 1. 3. de provid.
* ↑ Quid Justus es in omnibus quæ fecisti nobis, et universa opera tua vera, et viæ tuæ rectæ, et omnia judicia tua vera.—Dan. iii. 27.
* ↑ Aegrotavi volens, quia tu voluisti: pauper fui, te volente: sed lætus uon imperavi, quia tu voluisti; numquid me hac de causa tristiorem vidisti? numquid unquam vultu minus hilari te accessi? paratus si quid mandes, si quid imperes. Hæc me cogitantem, hæc scribentem, hæc legentem occupet mors.—Arian. Epist. disput. 1. 3. c. 5.
* ↑ Quoniam impletio voluntatis tuæ ineffabile meum gaudlum est!—Nebrid. Antiq. Monast. Ep. 37.