Woe to the Souls
where Christ does not Dwell!
When God was
displeased with the Jews, he delivered Jerusalem to the enemy, and they were
conquered by those who hated them; there were no more sacrifices or feasts.
Likewise angered at a soul who had broken his commands, God handed it over to
its enemies, who corrupted and totally dishonoured it. When a house has no
master living in it, it becomes dark, vile and contemptible, choked with filth
and disgusting refuse. So too is a soul which has lost its master, who once
rejoiced there with his angels. This soul is darkened with sin, its desires are
degraded, and it knows nothing but shame.
Woe to the path that
is not walked on, or along which the voices of men are not heard, for then it
becomes the haunt of wild animals. Woe to the soul if the Lord does not walk
within it to banish with his voice the spiritual beasts of sin. Woe to the house
where no master dwells, to the field where no farmer works, to the pilotless
ship, storm-tossed and sinking. Woe to the soul without Christ as its true
pilot; drifting in the darkness, buffeted by the waves of passion, storm-tossed
at the mercy of evil spirits, its end is destruction. Woe to the soul that does
not have Christ to cultivate it with care to produce the good fruit of the Holy
Spirit. Left to itself, it is choked with thorns and thistles; instead of fruit
it produces only what is fit for burning. Woe to the soul that does not have
Christ dwelling in it; deserted and foul with the filth of the passions, it
becomes a haven for all the vices. When a farmer prepares to till the soil he
must put on clothing and use tools that are suitable. So Christ, our heavenly
king, came to till the soil of mankind devastated by sin. He assumed a body
and, using the cross as his ploughshare, cultivated the barren soul of man. He
removed the thorns and thistles which are the evil spirits and pulled up the
weeds of sin. Into the fire he cast the straw of wickedness. And when he had
ploughed the soul with the wood of the cross, he planted in it a most lovely
garden of the Spirit, that could produce for its Lord and God the sweetest and
most pleasant fruit of every kind.
Source: The Liturgy of the Hours – Office of Readings
From a sermon said to be by St Macarius
Image taken from Wikimedia Commons
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