The Vice of Impurity
The Vice of Impurity
St. Alphonsus writes of the name of Mary: "This name was neither invented on earth nor imposed by human agency. It came from heaven and was given to the Mother of God by divine command." Just as it is a peculiar glory of our Saviour's name, that "God hath given Him a name which is above all names, that in the name of Jesus every knee should bow of those that are in heaven, on earth, and under the earth" (Philipp. ii. 9), thus it also behooves that Mary, the most perfect, the most pure, and most exalted of all created beings, should receive a most holy, lovely, and powerful name. St. Methodius declares that the name of Mary is so rich in grace and blessing, that no one can pronounce it devoutly without at the same time receiving a spiritual favor. Bl. Jordan exclaims: "Let a heart be ever so obdurate, let a man even despair of God's mercy, if he have recourse to thee, O Mary, virgin most clement, he can not fail to be softened and filled with confidence if he invokes thy name; for thou wilt inspire him with hope in God's mercy, pardon, and grace."
It is, then, meet and just that we should devoutly honor and praise the name of Mary. Let us never mention it except in reverence and devotion.
Let us invoke Mary by it in all dangers of body and soul, mindful of the words of St. Bernard: "O sinner, when the floods and tempests of this earthly life overwhelm thee so that thou canst not firmly set thy foot, turn not away thy gaze from the light of this guiding star. When the storms of temptation assail thee, and the rocks and quicksands of vexation and trial threaten to shatter thy bark of hope, look up to that bright star in the heavens, and call on the name of Mary. When the billows of pride and of ambition, when the floods of calumny are about to submerge thee, look up to this star and call on the name of Mary. When anger, avarice, and concupiscence convulse the peace of thy soul, look up to this star and call on Mary. When thy sins rise up like hideous monsters before thy troubled vision, when thy conscience stings thee, when the terrors of future judgment fill thee with deadly anguish, when gloom and sadness overpower thee, when thou findest thyself on the brink of hellish despair, take courage; think of Mary, and thou wilt find from thy own inward experience how true are the sayings of those who tell thee that the name of the Blessed Virgin is 'Star of the Sea,' the name of the Virgin is Mary."
ALL ENDS, AND SOON ENDS.
The grass of the field, which is today and tomorrow, is cast into the oven. MATT. vii. 30.
ALL ENDS, AND SOON ENDS.
Behold! All the goods of the earth are like the grass of the field, which today is blooming and beautiful, but in the evening it withers and loses its flowers, and the next day is cast into the fire. This is what God commanded the Prophet Isaiah to preach when he said to him: "Cry out. What shall I cry out? All flesh is grass, and all the glory thereof is as the flower of the field. (Isa. xl. 6. Hence, St. James compares the rich of this world to the flower of grass: at the end of their journey through life, they rot, along with all their riches and pomps. The rich. . . Because, like the flower of the grass, he shall pass away. For the sun rose with a burning heat, and parched the grass, and the flower thereof fell off, and the beauty of the shape thereof perished: so also shall the rich man fade away in his ways. St. James, they fade away and are cast into the fire, like the rich glutton who made a splendid appearance in this life, but afterwards was buried in hell. Let us, then, dearly beloved Christians, attend to the salvation of our souls, and to the acquisition of riches for eternity, which never ends; for everything in this world ends, and ends very soon.
Everything ends
When one of the great of this world is in the full enjoyment of the riches and honours which he has acquired, death shall come, and he shall be told: Take order with thy house; for thou shalt die, and not live. Oh! ” What doleful tidings! The unhappy man must then say: Farewell, world! Farewell, villa! farewell, grotto! Farewell, relatives! Farewell, friends! Farewell, sports! Farewell, balls! Farewell, comedies! Farewell, banquets! Farewell, honours! All is over for me. There is no remedy: whether he will or not, he must leave all. When he dies, he shall take nothing away, nor shall his glory descend with him. St. Bernard says that death produces a horrible separation of the soul from the body and from all the things of this earth. "morti“ horrendum divortium.” (Serm. xxvi., in Cant.)
To the great of this world, whom worldlings regard as the most fortunate of mortals, the bare name of death is so full of terror that they are unwilling even to hear it mentioned; for their entire concern is to find peace in their earthly goods. death! Ecclesiasticus, How bitter is the remembrance of thee to a man that hath peace in his possessions. But how much greater bitterness shall death itself cause when it actually comes to the miserable man who is attached to the goods of this world! Every separation produces pain. Hence, when the soul shall be separated by the stroke of death from the goods on which she had fixed all her affections, the pain must be excruciating. It was this that made King Agag exclaim when the news of approaching death was announced to him: “Doth bitter death separate me in this manner?
The great misfortune of worldlings is that when they are on the point of being summoned to judgment, instead of endeavouring to adjust the accounts of their souls, they direct all their attention to earthly things. But, says St. John Chrysostom, the punishment which awaits sinners, on account of having forgotten God during life, is that they forget themselves at the hour of death. “Anima dversione percutitur impius, ut moriens obliviscatur sui, qui vivens oblitus est Dei. But how great soever a man’s attachment to the things of this world may be, he must take leave of them at death. Naked he has entered into this world, and naked he shall depart from it. says Job, “I came out of my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return thither.
In a word, they who have spent their whole life having lost their sleep, their health, and their peace in accumulating riches and possessions shall take nothing with them at the hour of death: their eyes shall then be opened; and of all they had so dearly acquired, they shall find nothing in their hands. Hence, on that night of confusion, they shall be overwhelmed in a tempest of pain and sadness. “ rich man, When he sleeps, he shall take away nothing with him! He shall open his eyes and find nothing... a tempest shall oppress him in the night.
St. Antonine relates that Saladin, king of the Saracens, gave orders at the hour of death that the winding sheet in which he was to be buried should be carried before him to the grave, and that a person should cry out: “Of all his possessions, this only shall Saladin bring with him.” The saint also relates that a certain philosopher, speaking of Alexander the Great after his death, said: “Behold the man that made the earth tremble.” The earth, as the Scripture says, was quiet before him. He is now under the earth. Behold the man whom the dominion of the whole world could not satisfy: now four palms of ground are sufficient for him. Terram heri conculcabat, hodie ab ea conculcatur; et cui heri non sufficiebat mundus, hodie sufficiunt quatuor ulnæ terræ.Augustine, or some other ancient writer, says that, having gone to see the tomb of Caesar, he exclaimed: “Princes feared thee; cities worshipped thee; all trembled before thee; where has thy magnificence gone?”
Listen to what David says: “I have seen the wicked highly exalted and lifted up like the cedars of Lebanon. And I passed by, and lo! he was not. Oh! How many such spectacles are seen every day in the world! A sinner who has been born in lowliness and afterwards acquires wealth and honors, so as to excite the envy of all. When he dies, everyone says, He made a fortune in the world; but now he is dead, and with death all is over for him.
Why are earth and ashes proud? Such is the language which the Lord addresses to the man who is puffed up by earthly honors and earthly riches. "Miserable creature, whence comes such pride? You enjoy honors and riches; remember that you are dust. "For dust thou art, and into dust thou shalt return. You must die, and after death, what advantage shall you derive from the honours and possessions which now inflate you with pride? Go, says St. Ambrose, to a cemetery, in which are buried the rich and poor, and see if you can discern among them who has been rich and who has been poor; all are naked, and nothing remains of the richest among them but a few withered bones. ” Respi sepulchra, die mihi, quis ibi dives, quis pauper sit vexam. . How profitable would the remembrance of death be to the man who lives in the world! shall be brought to the grave, and shall watch in the heap of the dead. At the sight of these dead bodies, he would remember death, and that he would one day be like them. Thus, he should be awakened from the deadly sleep in which perhaps he lives in a state of perdition. But the misfortune is that worldlings are unwilling to think of death until the hour comes when they must depart from this earth to go into eternity; therefore, they live as attached to the world as if they were never to be separated from it. But our life is short, and shall soon end: thus all things must end, and must soon end

On this day, the Church celebrates, in honor of Mary, two solemn festivals: the first is that of her happy passage from this world; the second, that of her glorious Assumption into Heaven.
In the present discourse, we shall speak of her happy passage from this world; and in the next, of her glorious Assumption.
How precious was the death of Mary!
Death being the punishment for sin, it would seem that the Divine Mother, all holy and exempt as she was from its slightest stain, should also have been exempt from death and from encountering the misfortunes to which the children of Adam, infected by the poison of sin, are subject. But God was pleased that Mary should in all things resemble Jesus; and as the Son died, it was becoming that the Mother should also die; because, moreover, He wished to give the just an example of the precious death prepared for them, He willed that even the most Blessed Virgin should die, but by a sweet and happy death. Let us, therefore, now consider how precious Mary's death was: first, on account of the special favors by which it was accompanied; secondly, on account of the manner in which it took place.
There are three things which render death bitter: attachment to the world, remorse for sins, and the uncertainty of salvation. The death of Mary was entirely free from these causes of bitterness, and was accompanied by three special graces, which rendered it precious and joyful. She died as she had lived, entirely detached from the things of the world; she died in the most perfect peace; she died in the certainty of eternal glory.
And in the first place, there can be no doubt that attachment to earthly things renders the death of the worldly bitter and miserable, as the Holy Ghost says: "O death, how bitter is the remembrance of thee to a man who hath peace in his possessions!'' But because the Saints die detached from the things of the world, their death is not bitter, but sweet, lovely, and precious; that is to say, as Saint Bernard remarks, worth purchasing at any price, however great. Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord. Who are they who, being already dead, die? They are those happy souls who pass into eternity already detached, and, so to say, dead to all affection for terrestrial things; and who, like Saint Francis of Assisi, found in God alone all their happiness, and with him could say, 'My God and my all.' But what soul was ever more detached from earthly goods, and more united to God, than the beautiful soul of Mary? She was detached from her parents; for at the age of three years, when children are most attached to them and stand in the greatest need of their assistance, Mary, with the greatest intrepidity, left them and went to shut herself up in the temple to attend to God alone. She was detached from riches, contenting herself to be always poor, and supporting herself with the labour of her own hands. She was detached from honours, loving a humble and abject life, though the honours due to a queen were hers, as she was descended from the kings of Israel. The Blessed Virgin herself revealed to Saint Elizabeth of Hungary that when her parents left her in the temple, she resolved in her heart to have no father, and to love no other good than God.
Saint John saw Mary represented in that woman, clothed with the sun, who held the moon under her feet. And a great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet. Interpreters explain the moon to signify the goods of this world, which, like her, are uncertain and changeable. Mary never had these goods in her heart, but always despised them and trampled them under her feet; living in this world as a solitary turtle-dove in a desert, never allowing her affection to centre itself on any earthly thing; so that of her it was said: The voice of the turtle is heard in our land. And elsewhere: Who is she that goeth up by the desert? When the Abbot Rupert says: Thus didst thou go up by the desert; that is, having a solitary soul, Mary, then, having lived always and in all things detached from the earth, and united to God alone, death was not bitter, but, on the contrary, very sweet and dear to her; since it united her more closely to God in heaven, by an eternal bond.
Secondly, peace of mind renders the death of the just precious. Sins committed during life are the worms which so cruelly torment and gnaw the hearts of poor dying sinners, who, about to appear before the Divine tribunal, see themselves at that moment surrounded by their sins, which terrify them and cry out, according to Saint Bernard, 'We are thy works; we will not abandon thee.' Mary certainly could not be tormented at death by any remorse of conscience, for she was always pure and always free from the least shade of actual or original sin; so much so that of her it was said: "Thou art all fair, O my love, and there is not a spot in thee." From the moment that she had the use of reason, that is, from the first moment of her Immaculate Conception in the womb of Saint Anne, she began to love God with all her strength, and continued to do so, always advancing more and more throughout her whole life in love and perfection. All her thoughts, desires, and affections were of and for God alone. She never uttered a word, made a movement, cast a glance, or breathed, but for God and His glory; and never departed a step or detached herself for a single moment from the Divine love. Ah, how all the lovely virtues she had practised during life surrounded her blessed bed in the happy hour of her death! That faith so constant; that loving confidence in God; that unconquerable patience in the midst of so many sufferings; that humility in the midst of so many privileges; that modesty; that meekness; that tender compassion for souls; that insatiable zeal for the glory of God; and, above all, that most perfect love towards Him, with that entire uniformity to the Divine will: all, in a word, surrounded her, and consoling her, said: 'We are thy works; we will not abandon thee.' Our Lady and Mother, we are all daughters of thy beautiful heart; now that thou art leaving this miserable life, we will not leave thee. We also will go, and be thy eternal accompaniment and honour in Paradise, where, by our means, thou wilt reign as Queen of all men and of all angels.
In the third place, the certainty of eternal salvation renders death sweet. Death is called a passage; for by death we pass from a short to an eternal life. And as the dread of those is indeed great who die in doubt of their salvation, and who approach the solemn moment with well-grounded fear of passing into eternal death; thus, on the other hand, the joy of the Saints is indeed great at the close of life, holding with some security to go and possess God in heaven.