For
the Love of Christ I Do Not Spare Myself in Preaching Him
‘Son of man, I have appointed you as watchman to the house of Israel.’
Note that Ezekiel, whom the Lord sent to preach his word, is described as a
watchman. Now a watchman always takes up his position on the heights so that he
can see from a distance whatever approaches. Likewise whoever is appointed
watchman to a people should live a life on the heights so that he can help them
by taking a wide survey.
These words are hard to utter, for when I speak it is myself that I am
reproaching. I do not preach as I should nor does my life follow the principles
I preach so inadequately.
I do not deny that I am guilty, for I see my torpor and my negligence.
Perhaps my very recognition of failure will win me pardon from a sympathetic
judge. When I lived in a monastic community I was able to keep my tongue from
idle topics and to devote my mind almost continually to the discipline of
prayer. Since taking on my shoulders the burden of pastoral care, I have been
unable to keep steadily recollected because my mind is distracted by many
responsibilities.
I am forced to consider questions affecting churches and monasteries and often I must judge the lives and actions of individuals; at one moment I am forced to take part in certain civil affairs, next I must worry over the incursions of barbarians and fear the wolves who menace the flock entrusted to my care; now I must accept political responsibility in order to give support to those who preserve the rule of law; now I must bear patiently the villainies of brigands, and then I must confront them, yet in all charity.
My mind is sundered and torn to pieces by the many and serious things I
have to think about. When I try to concentrate and gather all my intellectual
resources for preaching, how can I do justice to the sacred ministry of the
word? I am often compelled by the nature of my position to associate with men
of the world and sometimes I relax the discipline of my speech. If I preserved
the rigorously inflexible mode of utterance that my conscience dictates, I know
that the weaker sort of men would recoil from me and that I could never attract
them to the goal I desire for them. So I must frequently listen patiently to
their aimless chatter. Because I am weak myself I am drawn gradually into idle
talk and I find myself saying the kind of thing that I didn’t even care to
listen to before. I enjoy lying back where I once was loath to stumble.
Who am I — what kind of watchman am I? I do not stand on the
pinnacle of achievement, I languish rather in the depths of my weakness. And
yet the creator and redeemer of mankind can give me, unworthy though I be, the
grace to see life whole and power to speak effectively of it. It is for love of
him that I do not spare myself in preaching him.
The Mercy of God to the Penitent (by Saint Maximus the Confessor)
Purification of spirit (by Saint Leo the Great)
Source: The
Liturgy of the Hours – Office of Readings
From a Sermon by Saint Gregory the Great
Photo taken from Wikimedia Commons
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