Every act of neglect of God's service, every evasion of His law, is always an act of injustice. Every sin has, besides its specific malice, the malice of injustice. Every idler in the vineyard of the Lord is in a state of sin; if he says that he has not been hired, he is a liar. God hires every man who comes into this world.

Besides the claim God has on us in justice, He has also a claim on our service by reason of the Redemption. We belong to Him because of the price He has paid for our salvation. "He has redeemed us at the price of His Precious Blood." Justice makes us serve Him, but higher than justice is the claim of love. And His Love constrains us to obey Him. Love makes Him sovereign Lord and Master. We belong neither to the world, nor to the devil, nor to ourselves: we owe nothing to them; we owe everything to Him whose love for us has moved Him to buy us with His blood. And so it is, my brethren, that every act of rebellion against God's law is always an act of ingratitude as well as injustice; every sin, besides its special malice, has the malice of injustice and ingratitude.

What pitiful, what hardened creatures we are when we forget these plain truths: when we act as though we were a law unto ourselves, and practically act as though we are responsible to no one. How dull is our sense of justice, how hardened is our heart when we can forget or ignore God and the claims He has upon us. We let the devil rule us, we make passion our master, we lift up self in place of God.

Are there any amongst us here this morning who have forgotten what they owe to God? Are there any whose years of sin and neglect of God have made them so deaf that they cannot hear His call to them; who do not know that their place is in His vineyard? To such as these does God now say, "Why stand you idle?" You who have wasted the morning, the noon, perhaps the evening of life in idleness, in sin; "go you into my vineyard"; there is still a chance for you to redeem the wasted time. Wake up out of your lethargy. Shake off the stupor that unhallowed pleasure and secret sin have cast over you. Smash the chains that have bound you to the service of the devil, the slavery that has smothered within you every instinct of justice, every worthy prompting of the heart, every noble aim in life. "Why stand you here idle?" This is the call of God to you. Go you into the vineyard of His service. What though for years you have neglected His call, His mercy is still near you, and He will pay you what is just— will pay you with life eternal.

We are now on the threshold of Lent - the special season of prayer and penance. Be no longer idle. Enter upon God's service with courage, with honest zeal, with firm hope in God's mercy. Begin at once - begin with a good confession. God is now calling you; for many of you it is even now the eleventh hour; for many of you this call may be the last."

Source: Five minutes sermons for Low Masses for every Sundays of the Year by the Priests of the Congregation of Saint Paul 1893

They seek no mercy from Him, and yet He spares them. Do we not all provoke Him by our sins? Do not many remain careless and enthralled in bad habits for years, with no sorrow, or fear of God, or prayer on their lips? Yet the good Lord is waiting patiently for that prayer for forgiveness to be uttered, and then at once, as He answered the leper, He would say, "I will," and their soul would be cleansed.

But why, O Lord, is Thy good Will so patient and so ready to respond to the cry of a penitent heart? Because we are Thine." Yes, God created us, and He hateth nothing that He has made. God is our Father, we are His children; though often, alas! ungrateful, disobedient, rebellious children. Yet the infinitely good Father loves us still, simply because we are His children.

Moreover, O Lord, we are Thine because Thou hast purchased us by Thy precious Blood. By our sins we have sold ourselves to the devil, we have become his slaves, but Thy good Will has paid the ransom for us. And this not once, but perhaps many and many a time, when we have relapsed all through our own fault, through not seeking help and strength from above. Looking at our past life, who can doubt the patient, loving good Will of Christ our Lord?

We may well wonder how it is; what is the secret of this bearing with us so long, and this readiness to forgive. God loves us. That is the secret of it all. God loves us, for what else could account for such longsuffering patience towards us in sinfulness, and such readiness to forgive, when the grace of contrition, which is His gift, moves us to repent? And what else could account for the multitude of His graces, and the generosity that knows no bounds?

Let us try to learn to bear this remembrance of the good Will of our Lord in our hearts. Nothing could do us more good. We should never then doubt or despair; we should have hope of forgiveness however great our sinfulness, however long we might have abandoned our religious duties. Remembering it, hope would burst forth into love and gratitude. A new life would spring up in our souls: devout prayer, repentance, attending Mass, receiving Holy Communion.

Once that we felt that our leprosy had been cleansed, that the grievous torment of the sickness of our soul had been relieved and cured, could we help but be as grateful as the leper of the gospel was? We can picture him afterwards following Christ with His disciples, one of the faithful ones. And the faith that should animate us to do our utmost for God should be like that of the centurion, which our Lord marvelled at and commended. He had not found so great faith in Israel.

One of the great evils of sin is to prevent us remembering the mercy of God; whereas the miracles of our Lord and Saviour's kindness recorded in the gospels force us to recall and tenderly to meditate on the love of that Sacred Heart which is waiting to work on our souls the same marvellous cures. To remember the mercies of the Lord is a great grace, and awakens in our hearts a trustful confidence in His goodness. It is the first step of the penitent sinner returning to His outraged Redeemer. It makes us loathe the evil we have done against Him; it brings us to His feet, praying for pardon. We come like the leper, "Lord, if Thou wilt, Thou canst make me clean." And the same blessed answer is ready for us, "I will, be thou made clean." And we come forth from the confessional, filled with that

blessed confidence that He has spared us, because He loves us. And unworthy though we are, at His loving invitation we draw near to the altar, longing for the Bread of Life, and we hear that divine voice saying, "I will come and heal you," and strengthen you and guard you, and "he that eateth this Bread shall live for ever." May we persevere loyal and faithful to the end, and that end will soon come. Then may our dying prayer be, "Lord Jesus, receive my soul !" and we may trustfully hope that the blessed answer will be, "I will." "Thou sparest all, because they are Thine, O Lord, Who lovest souls." Short Sermons on the Epistles & Gospels of the Sundays of the Year By Rev. Francis Paulinus Hickey, O.S.B. 1922 3rd Sunday after Epiphany

Now, in considering this question let us not get into a panic. God knows us just as we are, and far better than we know ourselves. Therefore He is not so cruel as to hold us strictly to all our promises. "God is true and every man is a liar," says Holy Writ, and our experience of human nature demonstrates that although we are honestly determined to tell the truth, and do tell it, when we promise to God to behave ourselves properly, yet we know very well that in a moment of weakness we may break down, and that is understood when we make our promise. I remember reading of St. Philip Neri that sometimes on waking in the morning he would say, "O Lord, keep thy hand on Philip today or he will betray Thee."

Hence it is a great folly to say, "I do not want to make a promise for fear I could not keep it." That would be good sense if you were going to swear to your promise, or if you were to make a Vow. But a promise to attend Sunday Mass, to keep out of saloons, to stop stealing, to be more good-natured at home, and the like is a very different matter. In such cases we must shut our eyes and go ahead, and meantime pray hard for God's assistance.

This was His Mother Mary's doing! It is this same loving Mother that we pray to so often! If, without a prayer, and just for kindness' sake, she obtained the working of this first great miracle, what will she not do for us? There was no need for her to have done it. She was not bound to do it. She was not asked to do it.

How, then, can she refuse us or "despise our petitions in our necessities," when she did this, unbidden, just to prevent shame and confusion to others? Our necessities are so great. It is a matter of life and death to us eternal life, eternal death - that we should not give way to temptation, remain in sin, die in sin; can our Blessed Lady refuse to deliver us from such dangers? Even without our turning to her she is anxious for us; how much more, then, if we pray to her! If we cry to her for help, to avoid sin, to repent, to give our hearts to God, to endeavour to persevere day after day, can our Mother turn a deaf ear to our supplications? Oh! Mary, Mother of the Saviour, remember thy kindness at Cana, and be to us the same loving Mother now. Your request was granted, although His hour had not yet come. Ever since He has been listening to you, and never yet refused you, for He wills that all grace should come to us through you, O blessed Mother.

What daily, hourly prayers should we offer to our Lady; what confidence and trust we should place in her love and her power! Obtain for us, blessed Mother of God, the grace always to turn to thee-like little children to their mother-in all anxieties, fears, and dangers.

"And the Mother of Jesus was there." Let us impress those words on our soul, and endeavour to make them true in our own regard at all times, day after day.

In life, oh! may Mary Mother be there. At Baptism, when we became children of God, our souls had Mary there then. And she remained with us during our childhood, till, perhaps at last, some sad day, we drove our Mother away by mortal sin. But when we had repented, and received Holy Communion, again the Mother of Jesus was with us. How patiently she remains with us, guarding us, helping us, as we battle with temptation, beginning again after failures, rising after little falls, doing our daily duties with a good intention. This is the way to holy perseverance, which we must endeavour to obtain with Mary our Mother's constant help.

And at death-the time of all for a mother to care for her child - oh! may the Mother of Jesus be there.

Then all the prayers of our lifetime will intercede for us; the good habits formed in life will come to our aid; in our hearts, when voice may fail, we shall call upon her to stay with us. How safe shall we be in the arms of our Mother, how blessed the end!

And when we stand before the Judge, please God, may "the Mother of Jesus be there." For the last time she will plead for us, and may it be her happy privilege then," after this our exile is ended, to show us the blessed fruit of her womb, Jesus." Oh! that glorious, never-ending day of eternity in heaven, and Mary the Mother of Jesus will be there."  Short Sermons on the Epistles & Gospels of the Sundays of the Year By Rev. Francis Paulinus Hickey, O.S.B. 1922 2nd Sunday after Epiphany

He knew that His Blessed Mother and St. Joseph would derive great profit and merit out of this painful abandonment, because they would willingly accept the pain of it, and present it over and over again as an offering to their heavenly Father, who does everything right and for the best.

The example of the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Joseph should always be before us and make us accept the things of our Father in heaven, no matter how painful they may be, with resignation, and constant prayers for it if we do not feel it, and for help not to give way to murmuring and dissatisfaction because God does not treat us in some other way than He in His divine wisdom and love actually sees fit to treat us.

If we would only say constantly, and on all occasions, "What is the business of my Father? I must make it my business to do it," it would save us many an evil and many a sorrow, and fill our lives with a true joy and a constantly accumulating merit. O my brethren! what fools we are, and how short-sighted, not seeing what is perfectly plain, and what no reasonable being can think of denying.

Everything we do should be one of the things of our Father in heaven. We should consider His will about rising from sleep in the morning, not indulging too much in a sensual and idle slothfulness; and should do the same about going to rest at night, giving ourselves sufficient repose and not spending the hours of rest in dissipation and luxury. All the business of the day should be done, first and above all, as a thing of the heavenly Father, acting with honesty, with fraternal charity, and with sobriety, serving our Lord Jesus Christ, and not men or our own selfishness.

Our conversation should be something which is of God, not being in a hurry to speak of our neighbor's faults or to attribute a bad motive to him or to revile him, but in all things seeing in him the image and likeness of God. Let us remember that he as well as ourselves is an heir of immortal glory, and that Christ has loved him so much as to die for him. Bright and innocent conversation, from which all spite and malice and all badness is excluded, is a thing of the Father and a joy to men and to angels.

And all that happens: bad weather, sickness, failure to carry out our desires, want, death of friends; all come from the permission of the Father, and are handed out to us. In all these things lie concealed the most glorious opportunities of pleasing God and securing our salvation.

Let us often say to ourselves what Jesus said to His blessed Mother: "Do you not know that I must be about the things that are my Father's?" Do you not know that everything else is of no account? Do you not know that here lies the whole business of your life? Do you not know that your whole happiness lies here? Rise up, then, O my soul! and go on courageously; let no obstacle stop you; look on all things with the eye of faith, and not according to the ways of the world. Then shortly you can say with St. Paul: "I have run my course. I have kept the faith. I have fought the good fight. And now there is laid up for me the crown of glory which God will give not only to me but to all who love His coming." Five-minute Sermons for Low Masses on All Sundays of the Year, Volume 1 by the Paulist Congregation Priests, 1893

And at Bethlehem - still the least of all seeds- "she brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him up in swaddling clothes, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them at the inn " (Luke 2. 7). And outcasts again were the Child and His Mother, for the Angel warned St. Joseph to flee with them to Egypt for fear of King Herod. And the long years at Nazareth, where the child grew up - how poor, secluded, uneventful were they. How despised a life in the eyes of the world, for when her Son began His public life, was it not cast against Him, "Can anything of good come from Nazareth?" (John 1. 46).

Come to Calvary! Behold that poor, heartbroken Mother standing by the Cross on which her Son died, scoffed at, derided, blasphemed by those for whom He died. Well may unbelievers sneer at such an apparent failure the life of the Virgin Mother and the death of her Son! But we - thank God for the faith within us- deny the failure and humbly adore God's marvelous providence. The seed must die in the ground before the growth ensues. Yes, Mary was "the least of all seeds", indeed, but we see and believe and bless God for the result of her humility, her acceptance of the Will of God, her hidden life, her poverty, her sufferings. Behold the result! Immaculate Mary herself tells us,"Behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. Because He that is mighty hath done great things to me" (Luke 1. 48, 49).

This poor, unknown, sorrowful Virgin - what has she become? The Queen of heaven, the Queen of Angels and of Saints! Acknowledged, reverenced from the earliest ages of the Church with a love and devotion increasing as the centuries roll on. A new era began for her at the Resurrection of her divine Son. Then did she realize, as He appeared to her, glorious, impassible, and immortal, what it was indeed to be the Mother of the Savior, for this was the Child of Bethlehem, this the Victim of Calvary. And at the Ascension what a vision of the glory of heaven was revealed to her longing soul! Ten days after, when the Holy Ghost came down upon the Apostles and filled their souls with His marvelous gifts, even Mary's heart was enlarged, she realized that a new work was laid upon her-she became the Mother of the infant Church. For twelve years she remained with the disciples, a living answer to all who doubted that God had become man to redeem the world, for there still amongst them was found His Mother. From the earliest days there were self-opinionated men holding heretical doctrines, but one after another they failed and perished as true belief in Mary was taught and maintained by the successors of the Apostles. The powers of the wicked one, having ensnared the hearts of so many, were concentrated against our Blessed Lady. But the prophecy of old was verified, and the Virgin Mother "crushed the serpent's head" when, in the days of St. Cyril of Alexandria, at the General Council of Ephesus, it was declared as an article of faith that Mary was the Mother of God. The least, indeed, of all seeds had grown and become glorious in its triumph. The title "Mother of God" was the test of orthodoxy.

Not only did Mary become the test and strength of our faith, but hope in her, as the mediator with her divine Son, en-kindled piety and devotion to her.

A moment's thought, the raising of our mind to God, the intending every word or work to be said and done in the name of Christ, for the love of Christ, would spiritualize our lives, and make of them an offering acceptable to God and blessed by Him with an eternal reward. And this pure intention, this morning offering, must be a daily work. We are so fickle, so inconstant, that even then self-love or yearning for praise will creep in. The fairest bud may have a canker in its heart.

No longer let our days be profitless for want of a little thought. With our morning prayers-yea, before them; as soon as our mind awakes-a moment's earnest thought will do-all for Jesus-and the day and all its thoughts, and prayers, and words, and works are offered to God and blessed by Him. "Do all in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ."

You may say that is a trifling thing indeed, and can that bless and ennoble our daily life? Yes, it is a little thing, but, as St. Francis of Sales says, "Little things are but little things, but fidelity in little things is a great thing." And the fidelity in making this pure intention, this offering to do all in the name of Jesus, and for the love of Jesus, is a great thing. For it is this being united to our Blessed Lord that gives its value, its eternal value, to all we do.

Let us picture to ourselves what this pure, heartfelt offering would mean. Sloth and tepidity would instantly stand abashed and ashamed. Sin and all desire for sin would be warned off, for our souls are giving themselves to Christ. The evil one would see that his plans and intrigues were detected and thus rendered powerless. In a moment the bright thought of Mass, of Holy Communion, perchance, would irradiate our soul. Our thought would question-Have we time? Can we make time for them? What an offering indeed to our dear Lord if we can; yea, a pleasing offering indeed for only wishing that we could. The daily toil, whatever it may be-laborious, poorly paid, wearisome-also, offered humbly, without a murmur, according to the blessed Will of God. Recording Angels are busy throughout the day adding up the wages due to such a worker.

Take what the saints have done and said. The great St. Teresa prays thus: "Forgive us, O Lord, not because of our prayers and good deeds, but because we have forgiven." When Blessed Juvenal Ancina was dying, poisoned by an enemy, he not only refused to mention the name of the assassin, whom he knew well, but strictly forbade that any inquiry should be made to lead to his punishment. And St. John Gualbertus, about to kill the murderer of his brother, at the sign and mention of the Cross, forgave him from his heart. And this was the turning-point-a proud young nobleman changed into a saint.

Not only were the saints ready to forgive, but they practiced active and kindly charity amongst the poor, the sick, and the afflicted. When we read the lives of holy men we cannot help but be struck by this humble and penitential habit. Even exalted personages and profound scholars steal time from their other labors to visit hospitals and the poor in their homes. This is one of the surest marks of real holiness. And others, again, devoted their whole lives to such work and founded religious Orders to perpetuate their labors. Oh! they had compassion on their fellow-servants. Call to mind St. Vincent of Paul. Who shall ever tell all that has been done in his life and since his death, by himself and those he taught to succor human misery? Their name is legion who have followed in his footsteps. And St. Camillus, the patron of a holy death, whose holy calling it was to tend the dying, winning poor sinners over in his hospitals to repent and die in peace. These are the heroes of charity, and so many more that could be named, and whom you of yourselves will remember. Heroes of charity, who loved to tend the most loathsome diseases, and whose touch wrought so many miraculous cures. We cannot be like them heroes, but we can and must pray to have a little of their spirit of kindness and compassion.

We must be determined and ready to meet the trials of life with resignation and serenity, and being kind to others in their necessities and miseries will bring this grace to our own souls. We cannot help it; suffering is like our shadow-we cannot get away from it. But being mindful and tender towards the sufferings of others will enable us to bear our own with fortitude and hope. St. Laurence the Martyr first saw to the poor and afflicted, distributed the Church's treasures to them, and with the sign of the Cross opened the eyes of the blind; and then when roasted slowly to death, God blessed him so that the flames were like roses to him, and happily and triumphantly he died for Christ. This is how God blesses compassion and fraternal charity.

For ourselves let us take consolation from this thought: God seems blind to our failings, as long as He sees kindness to others in our hearts. He gives us Himself as an example. He was meekness itself; He went about doing good to all; He loved to be amongst the poor; and of all that were diseased, do we read of one being sent away uncured? And His blessed Mother is like to Him, as we should expect. We salute her as Queen of Heaven, but a title she loves better is "Mother of Mercy." Mother of Mercy." How often have we stood in need of her pity and her help, and how often again shall we receive it, for she will ask our Lord for us, and she cannot be denied, if only she sees us striving to be to each other kind, and charitable, and merciful, and compassionate." Source:  Twenty-First Sunday after Pentecost, Short Sermons on the Epistles & Gospels of the Sundays of the Year By Rev. Fr. Francis Paulinus Hickey

Come down! Yes, daily upon our altars, and yet the Sacred Heart of Jesus is not content. There is another yearning, another longing that inflames it. Come down, He bids us pray again. Come down, dear Lord, into the very depths of our poor souls, come down and heal them in Holy Communion. Have we no pity for our own poor souls, that are dying-frail, languishing, wasting for nourishment and health and strength? And our Blessed Lord comes down to us, saying to us, "I am the Bread of life. If any man eat of this Bread he shall live for ever (John vi. 48, 52). All that is wanting is our desire and longing to come to Him to be healed.

What shall we answer to Christ the Judge if our souls die? It will be all our own fault. No shadow of an excuse. No one upon whom to lay the blame except our own selves. We may say we were tempted by the devil; but here was our Lord to succor us. We were weak and sinful; yes, and we neglected to seek strength and holiness here in the Blessed Sacrament. We were busy and occupied with many cares and the pursuits of the world; ah! had we not time to secure eternity? Passing pleasures of an hour were more thought of than the eternal joys of heaven, of which the Blessed Eucharist is the token and the pledge.

Our divine Lord is longing to come to us; but we, alas! have little longing or desire to come to Him. Where is our faith, our hope, our love for Him? Where is the fear within us lest our soul should die? It humbles us to remember the devoutness of others, and how in response to the cry of their hearts, our Savior has come and made His abode with them, and transformed them into saints. Yes, they have become saints because they were anxious about their souls, and their faith taught them how their souls could be safeguarded. The cry of their heart was, "Lord, come down"; they knew they could not do without Him. And the safety, the growth, the perfecting of their souls was in this that our Lord had come with His blessed healing and nourishing, and had stayed with them. His Presence made them realize more and more His blessings and His love, and then on their part their desire and longing for Him and wholehearted response to His graces grew more and more.

Mass and Holy Communion must not become matters of custom and habit, and there is here a great danger, especially for the young and thoughtless. But they must be so prepared for and longed for each day, that this love of receiving our divine Lord may be intensified each time. We are humbled, when we think of the devotion of the saints that we read of. How St. Gerard, a mere little boy, longed so for his Lord that St. Michael the Archangel brought him his first Communion. How the Sacred Host left the altar and came of itself to St. Catherine of Siena at the end of the church.