Do You Have a Vocation?
By Rev. William Doyle, S.J. 1873
“For many are called, but few are chosen.” - Matthew
XXII, 14
"I entered Carmel to pray for Priests." St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus
“And He said to them: The harvest indeed is great, but the laborers are few. Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest that he send laborers into his harvest.”
(Luke X, 2)
A True Vocation
3. Signs of a Vocation
4. Motives for Entering Religion
5. SHOULD WE ENCOURAGE VOCATIONS?
6. Trying a Vocation
7. Deliberation
8. Age for Entering
9. Importance of Following a Vocation
10. Opposition
11. Objections
12. Advantages of Religious Life
"I entered Carmel to pray for Priests." St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus
“And He said to them: The harvest indeed is great, but the laborers are few. Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest that he send laborers into his harvest.”
(Luke X, 2)
A Vocation
“ Blessed are they that dwell in Thy house, O Lord,
they shall praise Thee for ever and ever. “ –Ps. LXXXIII, 5.
“Alas, alas, for those who died without fulfilling
their mission! Who were called to be holy, and lived in sin; who were called
to worship Christ, and who plunged into this giddy and unbelieving world;
who were called to fight, and remained idle. Alas for those who have had
gifts and talents, and have not used, or misused, or abused them!
The world goes on from age to age, but the holy Angels
and blessed Saints are always crying, ‘alas, alas, and woe, woe, over the
LOSS OF VOCATIONS, and the disappointment of hopes, and the scorn of God’s
love, and the ruin of souls.’”
– NEWMAN
1. “Come, Follow Me.”
“GOOD MASTER, what good shall I do
that I may have life everlasting?” It was the eager question
of one whom fortune had blessed with the wealth of this world, but who
realised that life eternal was a far more precious treasure. He had
come to the Divine Teacher, seeking what he must yet do to make secure
the great prize for which he was striving. He was young and wealthy,
a ruler in the land, one whose life had been without stain or blemish.
“The Commandments? – All these I have
kept from my youth,” he had said; “Good Master, what is yet wanting
to me?”
Jesus looked on him with love, for such
a soul was dear to His Sacred Heart. “ If thou wilt be perfect,”
comes the answer, “go sell what thou hast and give to the poor, and
come, follow Me.”
There was a painful pause: nature and
grace were struggling for the mastery; the invitation had been given, the
road to perfection pointed out. There was only one sacrifice needed to
make him a true disciple, but it was a big one, too great for him who lately
seemed so generous. He hesitates, wavers, and then sadly turns away,
with the words “Come, follow Me,” ringing in his ears, for love
of his “great possessions” had wrapped itself round his heart –
a Vocation had been offered and refused. “What a cloud of misgivings,”
says Father Faber, “must hang over the memory of him whom Jesus
invited to follow Him. Is he looking now in heaven upon that Face
from whose mild beauty he so sadly turned away on earth?”
Nearly two thousand years have passed
since then, but unceasingly that same Voice has been whispering in the
ears of many a lad and maiden, “One thing is yet wanting to you – come,
follow Me.” Some have heard that voice with joy and gladness
of heart, and have risen up at the Master’s call; others have stop their
ears, or turned away in fear from the side of Him Who beckoned to them,
while not a few have stood and listened, wondering what it meant, asking
themselves could such an invitation be for them, till Jesus of Nazareth
passed by and they were left behind for ever.
To these, chiefly, is this simple explanation
of a Vocation offered, in the hope that they may recognize the workings
of grace within their souls, or be moved to beg that they may one day be
sharers in this crowning gift of God’s eternal love.
2. What is a Vocation?
“How do I know whether I have a vocation
or not?” How often this question has risen to the lips of many a young
boy or girl, who has come to realize that life has a purpose, only to be
brushed aside with an uneasy “I am sure I have not,” or a secret
prayer that they might be saved from such a fate! How little they know
the happiness they are throwing away in turning from God’s invitation,
for such a question, and such a feeling, is often the sign of a genuine
vocation.
In the first place, a vocation, or “a
call to the Priesthood or the Religious Life,” in contradistinction
to the general invitation, held out to all men, to a life of perfection
even in the world, is a free gift of God bestowed on those whom He selects:
“You have not chosen Me,” he said to His Disciples, “but I have
chosen you,” and the Evangelist tells us that “Christ called unto
Him whom He willed.” Often that invitation is extended to those whom
we would least expect. Magdalene, steeped to the lips in iniquity, became
the spouse of the Immaculate; Matthew, surrounded by his ill-gotten gains;
Saul, “breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the Christians,”
each heard that summons, for a sinful life in the past, St. Thomas
teaches, is no impediment to a vocation.
But though this gift is of surpassing
value and a mark of very special affection on His part, God will not force
its acceptance on the soul, leaving it free to correspond with the grace
or reject it. Some day the Divine Hunter draws near the prey which He has
marked out for the shafts of his love; timidly, as if fearing to force
the free will, He whispers a word. If the soul turns away, Jesus often
withdraws forever, for He only wants willing volunteers in His service.
But if the startled soul listens, even though dreading lest that Voice
speak again, and shrinking from what It seems to lead her to, grace is
free to do its work and bring her captive to the Hunter’s feet.
Unconsciously, in that first encounter,
she has been deeply wounded with a longing for some unknown, as yet untasted,
happiness. Almost imperceptibly a craving for a nobler life has taken possession
of the heart; prayer and self denial, the thought of sacrifice, bring a
new sweetness; the blazing light of earthly pleasures, once so dazzling,
seems to die away; the joys, the amusements, of the world no longer attract
or satisfy; their emptiness serves only to weary and disgust the more,
while through it all the thirst for that undefinable “something” tortures
the soul.
“Sweet and tender Lord!”
exclaims the Blessed Henry Suso, “from the days of my childhood my mind
has sought for something with burning thirst, but what it is I have not
as yet fully understood. Lord, I have pursued it many a year, but I never
could grasp it, for I know not what it is, and yet it is something that
attracts my heart and soul, without which I can never attain true rest.
Lord, I sought it in the first days of my childhood in creatures, but the
more I sought it in them the less I found it, for every image that presented
itself to my sight, before I wholly tried it, or gave myself quietly to
it, warned me away thus: ‘I am not what thou seekest.’ Now my heart rages
after it, for my heart would so gladly possess it. Alas! I have so
constantly to experience what it is not! But what it is, Lord, I am not
as yet clear. Tell me, Beloved Lord, what it is indeed, and what
is its nature, that so secretly agitates me.”
Even in the midst of worldly
pleasure and excitement there is an aching void aching void in the heart.
“How useless it all is! –how hollow! –how unsatisfying! Is this
what my life is to be always? Was I made only for this?”
Slowly one comes to understand
the excellence and advantage of evangelical perfection, the indescribable
charm of virginity, and the nobleness of a life devoted wholly to the service
of God and the salvation of souls. Louder and stronger has grown
the faint whisper, “Come, follow Me,” till at last, with an intense
feeling of joy and gratitude, or even at times, a natural repugnance and
fear of its responsibilities, the weary soul realises that “The Master
is here and calls for thee” –that she has got a Vocation.
Vocation 101: What is Vocation?
A True Vocation
A vocation, therefore, speaking generally,
is not the mysterious thing some people imagine it to be, but simply the
choice God makes of one for a certain kind of life.
“A person is known to have a true
vocation to enter a particular career in life,” writes Father C. Coppens,
S.J., “ if he feels sincerely convinced, as far as he can judge with
God’s grace, that such a career is the best for him to attain the end for
which God places him on earth, and is found fit by his talents, habits
and circumstances, to enter on that career with a fair prospect of succeeding
in the same.”
Pere Poulain, S.J., the great French
ascetical writer, adds: “In order to judge whether we have a vocation
that is inspired by God, it is not usually sufficient to satisfy ourselves
that we have a persistent attraction for it. This mark is not certain unless
a natural condition is fulfilled, namely, that we have certain physical,
moral and intellectual qualities also.”
A vocation to the religious state supposes,
then, not only a supernatural inclination or desire to embrace it, but
an aptitude or fitness for its duties. God cannot act inconsistently.
If He really wishes one to follow Him,
He must give him the means of doing so, and hence if real obstacles stand
in the way, e.g., serious infirmities, an old parent to support, etc.,
such a one is not called to enter religion.
God at times inspires a person to do
something which He does not really wish or intend to be carried out. Thus
David longed to build the Temple of the Lord; Abraham was told to sacrifice
his son, merely to test their obedience and willingness; for, says St.
Teresa, “God is sometimes more pleased with the desire to do a thing
than with its actual accomplishment.”
St. Francis de Sales regards “a firm
and decided will to serve God” as the best and most certain sign of
a true vocation, for the Divine Teacher had once said, “If you wish…
come, follow Me.” He writes: “A genuine vocation is simply
a firm and constant will desirous of serving God, in the manner and in
the place to which He calls me… I do not say this wish should be exempt
from all repugnance, difficulty or distaste. Hence a vocation must
not be considered false because he who feels himself called to the religious
state no longer experiences the same sensible feeling which he had
at first and that he even feels a repugnance and such a coldness that he
thinks all is lost. It is enough that his will persevere in the resolution
of not abandoning its first design.
In order to know whether
God wills one to be a religious, there is no need to wait till He Himself
speaks to us, or until He sends an angel from heaven to signify His will;
nor is there any need to have revelations on the subject, but the first
movement of the inspiration must be responded to, and then one need not
be troubled if disgust or coldness supervene.”
3. Signs of a Vocation
The following is a list of some of the
ordinary indications of a vocation, taken principally from the works of
Father Gautrelet, S.J., and the Retreat Manual. No one need
expect to have all these marks, but if some of them at least are not perceived,
the person may safely say he has no vocatraction, through Father Lehmkulhl says:
“One need not have a natural inclination for the religious life; on the
contrary, a divine vocation is compatible with a natural repugnance for
the state.”
6. To have zeal for souls. To realize
something of the value of an immortal soul, and to desire to co-operate
in their salvation.
7. To desire to devote our whole life
to obtain the conversion of one dear to us.
8. To desire to atone for our own sins
or those of others, and to fly from the temptations which we feel too weak
to resist.
9. An attraction for the state of virginity.
10. The happiness which the thought of religious life brings,
its spiritual helps, its peace, merit and reward.
11. A longing to sacrifice oneself and abandon all for the
love of Jesus Christ, and to suffer for His sake.
12. A willingness in one not having any dowry, or much education,
to be received in any capacity, is a proof of a real vocation.
Considering Catholic Vocations: deacon, priest, nun, monk, married, single...
4. Motives for Entering Religion
St. Francis de Sales writes as follows:
“Many enter religion without knowing why they do so. They come into
a convent parlour, they see nuns with calm faces, full of cheerfulness,
modesty and content, and they say to themselves: ‘What a happy place this
is! Let us come to it. The world frowns on us; we do not get what we want
there.’
“Others come in order to find peace,
consolation and all sorts of sweetness, saying in their minds: ‘How happy
religious are! They have got safe away from all their home worries; from
their parents’ continual ordering about and fault-finding -- let us enter
religion.’
“These reasons are worth nothing.
Let us consider whether we have sufficient courage and resolution to crucify
and annihilate ourselves, or rather to permit God to do so. You must understand
what it is to be a religious. It is to be bound to God by the continual
mortification of ourselves, and to live only for Him. Our heart is surrendered
always and wholly to His Divine Majesty; our eyes, tongue, hands and all
our members serve Him continually. Look well into your heart and see if
you have resolution enough to die to yourself and to live only to God.
Religion is nothing else than a school of renunciation and self mortification.”
As the call to religious life is supernatural,
a vocation springing solely from a purely human motive – such as
those spoken of by St. Francis – the desire of pleasing one’s parents,
or some temporal advantage, would not be to work of grace. However, if
the principal motive which inclines us to embrace the religious
state is supernatural, the vocation is a true one, for Divine Providence
often makes use of the trials and misfortunes of life to fill a soul with
disgust for the world and prepare it for a greater grace.
St. Romuald, founder of the Camaldolese,
to escape the consequences of a duel in which he had taken part, sought
an asylum in a monastery, where he was so struck by the happy lives of
the monks that he consecrated himself to God.
St. Paul, the first hermit, fled to the
desert to avoid persecution, and found in the solitude a peace and joy
he had sought in vain. How many eyes have been rudely opened to the shortness
and uncertainly of life by the sudden death of a dear friend, and made
to realize that the gaining of life eternal was “the one thing necessary”;
thwarted ambition, the failure of cherished hopes or the disappointment
of a loving heart, have convinced many a future saint that the only Master
worth serving is Jesus Christ, His affection the only love worth striving
for.
Hence we may conclude with the learned
theologian, Lessius, “If anyone takes the determination of entering
religion, well resolved to observe its laws and duties, there is no doubt
that his resolution, this vocation, comes from God, whatever the circumstances
which seem to have produced it.”
“It matters little how we commence,
provided we are determined to persevere and end well,” says St. Francis
de Sales; and St. Thomas lays it down that “no matter from what source
our resolution comes of entering religion, it is from God”; while
Suarez maintains that “generally the desire for religious life is from
the Holy Ghost, and we ought to receive it as such.”
5. SHOULD WE ENCOURAGE VOCATIONS?
It is a curious fact that although many
pious and learned persons do not shrink from discouraging, in every possible
way, aspirants to religious life, they would scruple to give them any help
or encouragement. “A vocation must be entirely the work of the Holy
Ghost,” they say. Willingly they paint the imaginary difficulties and
trials of a convent life, and hint at the unhappiness sometimes to be found
there; they speak of the long and serious deliberation necessary before
one takes such a step, and thus, unintentionally perhaps, but most effectively
extinguish the glowing enthusiasm of a youthful heart.
Some even assume a terrible responsibility
by deliberately turning away souls from the way into which the master is
calling them, forgetting the warning: “It is I who have chosen you,”
never reflecting on the irretrievable harm they are causing by spoiling
the work of God.
Others calmly assure a postulant, who
has been found unsuitable for a particular Order, that this is a certain
sign Almighty God does not want him, that he has no vocation and should
not try again.
It is quite true to say that a vocation
comes from above, but God’s designs can be hindered or helped by His creatures,
and He has ever made use of secondary agents in their execution. The formation
of character and the direction of the steps of the young towards the Sanctuary
is largely in the hands of parents and teachers; how many a happy priest
and nun daily thank their Maker for the gift of a good mother, who first
sowed the seeds of a vocation in their childish heart. Fathers and mothers
constantly put before their children the various calling and professions
of life to help them in the choice; is the grandest life of all, the service
of the King of Kings, the battling for precious souls, and the extension
of Christ’s Kingdom, to be ignored and never spoken of?
The saints realized that God looked to
them to aid Him in the work of fostering vocations. St. Jerome writes thus
to Heliodorus: “I invite you, make haste. You have made light of my
entreaties; perhaps you will listen to my reproaches. Effeminate soldier!
What are you doing under the paternal roof? Hasten to enlist under the
banner of Christ.”
So eloquently did St. Bernard speak of
the advantages of the religious life that all his brothers and thirty young
nobles followed him to the solitude of Citeaux.
More striking still was the bringing
of the Apostles to Our Lord by indirect means. St. Andrew and St. John
were sent to the Saviour by St. John the Baptist: “Behold the Lamb of
God. And the two disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus.”
“Andrew findeth first his brother
Simon,.. and he brought him to Jesus.”
“On the following day he [Andrew]
would go forth into Galilee, and he findeth Philip… Philip findeth Nathaniel,
and said to him: We have found Him of Whom the prophets did write… and
Nathaniel said to him: Can any good come out of Nazareth? Philip said to
him: Come and see,” with the result that he also received the call
to follow Christ.
Thus one by one the Apostles were brought
to the knowledge of the Messias and under the influence of His grace, without
which all human efforts are useless to produce a vocation. “Know well,”
says St. Thomas, “that whether it be the suggestion of the devil or
the advice of a man which inclined us to the religious life, and makes
us thus walk in the footsteps of Jesus Christ, this suggestion or advice
is powerless and inefficient so long as God does not attract us inwardly
towards Him. Therefore, the proposal of entering into religion, in whatever
way it may be suggested to us, can come only from God.”
“No man can come to Me, unless it can be given him by My Father.”
Hence the Saint adds, that even if the religious vocation came from devil,
it ought to be embraced as an excellent counsel given by an enemy.
Inside A Catholic Benedictine Monastery
6. Trying a Vocation
Spiritual writers tell us the evil spirit
strives in every possible way to hinder all the good he can. If he cannot
turn one away completely from the determination of giving oneself to God,
he will work, might and main, to defer the moment as long as possible,
knowing that a person in the world is constantly exposed to the danger
of losing both the grace of God and “the pearl of great price,”
his vocation. He knows that until the doors of the monastery have closed
behind the young Levite he has every chance of snatching away that treasure.
He will lay traps and pitfalls, stir up doubts and fears; he will make
the attractions of a life of pleasure seem almost irresistible, causing
the bravest heart to waver: “I never realized how dear the world to
me until I had to leave it” has been the agonizing cry of many.
Under one pretext or another he induces
them to put off their generous resolution from day to day. “O Lord,”
exclaims St. Augustine, “I said I will come presently; wait a moment;
but this presently never came, and this moment did not end. I always
resolved to give myself to You on the morrow, and never immediately.”
How fatal this delay in responding
to the call of God has been those can best tell whom age or altered circumstances
have hindered from carrying out their first intention.
If the vocation is doubtful, there
is need of deliberation, and it must be serious, for hastiness and want
of reflection would be unpardonable in such a matter; but so enormous
are the advantages to be reaped from a life devoted to God’s service, it
would be a far greater calamity to miss a vocation through excessive prudence
than to mistake a passing thought for the Master’s call.
It is well to remember that a person
who felt he had no vocation would not sin by embracing the religious state,
provided he had the intention of fulfilling all its obligations and serving
God to the best of his ability. For, in the opinion of the Angelic Doctor,
God will not refuse the special graces, necessary for such a life, to one
who sincerely desires to promote His glory.
Our Lord tells us to learn a lesson from
“the children of this world, who are wiser in their generation”;
there is no hesitation about accepting a tempting offer of marriage, which
binds one, perhaps to an unsuitable partner, for life; it is worldly wisdom
not to delay about such a step when there is a chance of being well settled;
and yet St. Ignatius teaches that there is more need for deliberation about
remaining in the world than for leaving it. He says: “If a person
thinks of embracing a secular life, he should ask and desire more evident
signs that God calls him to a secular life than if there were question
of embracing the Evangelical Counsels. Our Lord Himself has exhorted
us to embrace His Counsels, and, on the other hand, He has laid before
us the great dangers of a secular life ; so that, if we rightly conclude,
revelations and extraordinary tokens of His will are more necessary for
a man entering upon a life in the world than for one entering the religious
state.”
Endless harm has been done by well-meaning
people, who, under pretext of “trying a vocation”, keep their children
from entering a religious house for years.
They urge that getting “to know the
world” will develop their faculties and enable them to understand their
own mind better; that such a process will broaden their views and help
them to judge things at their proper value; finally, that a vocation which
cannot stand such a trial, the buffeting of dangerous temptations, and
the seductive allurements of worldly pleasure, to which it has been unnecessarily
exposed, is no vocation and had far better be abandoned.
“Is the world the place for testing
a vocation?” asks St. Vincent de Paul. “Let the soul hasten as fast
as possible to secure asylum.” The Church, realizing well the necessity
of such a trial, prescribes at least a year of probation in every novitiate
before admitting candidates to the religious profession. There, safe from
the contagious atmosphere of a corrupt world, with abundant time for prayer
and thought, with liberty to remain or leave at will, each one can test
for himself the sincerity of the desire he felt to abandon all things and
follow Christ, before he binds himself irrevocably by his vows.
“One could not give a more pernicious
counsel than this,” writes Father Lessius. “What is it in reality
except the desire to extinguish the interior spirit, under the pretext
of a trial, and to expose to the tempest of temptation him who was
preparing to gain the port of safety?
“If a gardener were to plant a precious
seed, requiring great care, in stony ground, covered with thorns ; if he
exposed it to the rays of the sun and every change of climate to try would
it grow in that unfavourable spot, who would not look upon him as a fool?
Those who advise people called to religious life to remain, for a while,
in the world have even less sense. A vocation is a divine fruit for eternal
life. It is planted in the human heart, a soil little suited to its nature,
and requires great care and attention. Watch must be kept that the birds
of the air, the demons, do not carry it away; that thorns, the concupiscences
and solicitudes of the world, do not choke it; that men with their
false maxims should not trample it under foot. Whosoever wishes to preserve
and see grow in his heart the seed which the Divine Sower has cast there,
ought to fly from the world and reach a safe refuge as soon as possible.”
7. Deliberation
It follows from what has been said that
once the voice of God is recognized, that is when the thought of leaving
the world has been more or less constantly before the mind for some time,
and the souls realizes, even though she dreads it, that “the Lord hath
need of her,” the call ought to be obeyed promptly.
St. Thomas holds that the invitation
to a more perfect life ought to be followed without delay, for these lights
and inspirations from God are transient, not permanent, and therefore the
divine call should be obeyed instantly. As of old, when He worked His miracles
and went about doing good, “Jesus of Nazareth passeth by”; if we
do not take advantage of His passing, He may never return. “I stand
at the door and knock,” He said, “If any man shall hear My voice
and open to Me, I will come in to him,” if not, that call may never
come again.
“Make haste, I beseech you,” exclaims
St. Jerome, “and rather cut than loosen the rope by which your bark
is bound fast to the land,” for even a day’s delay deprives a person
of invaluable merit, which he would acquire in religion.
Delay is dangerous, and long deliberation,
as Msgr. Malou assures us, is unnecessary: “Of all the state of life
the religious state is, without contradiction, that which demands the least
deliberation, and is that of which the choice should cause less doubt,
and provoke the least hesitation; for it is in this state that fewer difficulties
are met with, and the best means are found for saving our souls.”
8. Age for Entering
“It is well for a man to have borne
the yoke from his youth,” says Holy Scripture. Mindful of this counsel,
and realising that the pure heart of the young receive the impressions
of virtue without difficulty, and easily form good habits, that it is above
all the time sacred linen of the altar, they promised, in the presence
of God and of His Saints, stability in his behalf. Little beings of three
or four years old were brought in the arms of those who gave them life,
to accept at their bidding the course in which that life was to run.
They were brought into the sanctuary, received the cowl, and took their
places as monks in the monastic community.”
St. Benedict was only twelve when he
entered the cloister, and St. Thomas of Aquinas barely fourteen. St. Catherine
of Ricci was professed at thirteen; Blessed Imelda died in a Dominican
Convent at the age of eleven, and St. Rose of Lima had vowed her chastity
to God while only five. In our own days Sœur Therese, “The Little Flower,”
was scarcely fifteen when she entered the Carmelite monastery at Lisieux.
“The Spirit breatheth where He will.”
There is no rule for vocations, no age-limit for the Call. Innocence
attracts the gaze of God, deep-rooted habits of sin, provided they are
not persevered in, do not always repel Him. One comes because of the world
disgusts him, another loves it and leaves it with regret; docility draws
down more graces, while resistance often increases the force of his invitation.
The little child hears His whisperings, while others have not been summoned
till years were far advanced.
So jealous is the Church of this liberty
for her children that the Council of Trent excommunicates those who, by
force or fear, hinder anyone from entering religion without just cause.
As parents often exceed the authority
given them by God over their children, in the question of a choice
of life, it will be well here to quote the words of the great Jesuit Moralist,
Father Ballerini: “Paternal power cannot take away the right which sons
and daughters have to make their own choice of a state of life, and, if
they will, to follow Christ’s Counsels. The duty, however, which filial
piety demands ought not to be disregarded, and the leave of parents ought
to be asked. If it is refused, their children ought not at once to take
their departure, but should wait for some little time till the parents
have realised their obligations. If, however, there should be danger of
the parents unjustly hindering the fulfillment of their children’s vocation,
they may and ought to go without their parent’s knowledge. Parents have
a right to make some trial of the vocation of their children before they
enter; it is not, however, lawful for them to insist that they should first
taste the pleasure of the world. If they should happen to be affected by
these, the parent would not have reason to conclude that there had not
been a true vocation. There may be a true vocation which has been wrongfully
abandoned.”
St. Liguori quotes a number of theologians
who hold that “Parent who prevent their children from entering religion
sin mortally. To turn one from a religious vocation,” says St.
Jerome, “is nothing else than to slay Jesus Christ in the heart of another.”
9. Importance of Following a Vocation
There is no more important moment in
the life of a young boy or girl than when “they stand with trembling
feet” at the parting of the ways. With St. Paul they had said: “When
I was a child, I spoke as a child, I thought as a child,” but the days
of irresponsible childhood are gone forever, and now they must launch their
bark alone on the stormy waters of life and steer their course of eternity.
It is a solemn moment, a time big with possibilities for good or evil,
for the youth is face to face with question what he must do with his future
life, a choice upon which not merely his happiness on earth, but even his
eternal salvation, may depend.
He has been made by his Creator and given
a precious gift to spend it in a certain, definite way, marked out from
all eternity by the hand of Divine Providence. What that life is to be
for many, circumstances and surroundings clearly indicate. But in the hearts
of others arises a violent storm from the clashing of rival interests.
On the one hand comes the call of the
world, the pleading of human nature for a life of ease and pleasure; on
the other, the Voice of Christ, softly yet clearly, “Come, follow Me
– I have need of you – I have work for you to do.”
This, then, is the meaning of his life,
the reason why he was drawn out of nothingness, “to work the works of
Him Who sent Him.” Is he free to hesitate? Is it a matter of indifference
for him to live in a God-chosen state of life or in a self-chosen one,
now that his vocation is certain?
To this question St. Liguori answers:
“Not to follow our vocation, when we feel called to the religious
state, is not a mortal sin; the Counsel of Christ,
from their nature , do not oblige under this penalty. However, in regard
to the dangers to which our salvation is exposed, in choosing a state of
life against the Divine Will, such conduct is rarely free from sin, much
more so when a person is persuaded that in the world he places himself
in danger of losing his soul by refusing to follow his vocation.”
Though one would not sin mortally by
refusing to follow a clear vocation, since it is an invitation, not a
command, a person would certainly run a great risk of imperiling his salvation
by so acting. God foresees the temptations and dangers of each one; some
He knows would never save their souls in the midst of a sinful world, and
these He calls away to protect them from its dangers. To the vocation
He has attached helps and graces to strengthen the weak soul, but deprived
of this help -- for God may refuse to give them in the world the
graces He would have granted in religion -- many will find salvation extremely
difficult.
Hence, though the deliberate refusal
to correspond to the Divine vocation does not necessarily imply the commission
of sin, even when the call is clear and unmistakable, yet it is a serious
responsibility, without sufficient reason, to refuse to correspond to such
an invitation, offered with so much love and liberality; for a vocation
not only shows God’s eagerness for the sanctification of the person called
to follow in His footsteps, but implies that the Savior looks for his constant
co-operation in “the divinest of all works,” the salvation of human
souls.
Can it be wondered at, then, that, deprived
of the special graces destined for them, the lives of those who have refused
to follow, or have abandoned, a decided vocation are generally unhappy,
and, too often, as every confessor knows, sullied with great and numerous
sins?
The Beauty of being a young nun.
10. Opposition
Seeing the immense importance of a vocation,
and how much depends upon it, both for ourselves and others,
it is only natural to expect that the evil one should stir up a regular
hornet’s nest of opposition. He will prevent it if he can and will not
give up the fight without a fierce struggle. Checked and defeated in one
direction, he renews his attacks, with greater audacity, in another, striving
by delays, disappointments and interior trials to weary the soul and turn
it in the end from its resolve. It has been truly said that we never fully
realize the number of enemies we have to contend with until the moment
we make up our mind resolutely to serve God. One certainly never
knew how many people were so keenly interested in our future happiness,
so anxious to warn us of the difficulties and dangers of our proposed step,
until it became known we were entering religion.
When a young man resolves to renounce
the world, his so–called friends rally round him begging of him not to
be such a coward as to run away from what clearly is his duty. They remind
him of all the good he might do by staying where he is, but his conscience
assures him there is nothing better he can do than go where God, his Master,
bids him. They ask him if he is he a mad fool to give up all the amusements
and pleasures he might lawfully enjoy; would it not be better for him first
“to see life,” before he buries himself in a gloomy cloister; they
taunt him with want of moral courage and call him hard-hearted and
cruel to desert a loving father or mother in their declining years.
What a terrific struggle
it all is he only knows who has been through it. To be told one is simply
selfish when one wants only to be generous; to meet with nothing but coldness,
cynicism and discouragement when most of all there is an agonizing cry
in the soul for kindness and sympathy, is hard indeed for flesh and blood
to bear, even for the love of Jesus. God, too, Who at first “had disposed
all things sweetly” to wean the soul from earthly love and draw it
to Himself, in the end sometimes seems to hide His face and abandon His
spouse. “It seemed to me,” the holy Mother Kerr used to say, “that
all my wish for religious life vanished from the moment I decided to follow
it.”
Doubts and fears give place to the joy
and yearning for a life of sacrifice, which formerly filled the heart.
St. Teresa, however, tells us not to fear, for this trial, if bravely borne,
will lead to greater happiness.
“When an act is done for God alone,”
she writes, “it is His will before we begin it that the soul, in order
to increase its merit, should be afraid; and the greater the fear, if we
do but succeed, the greater the reward and the sweetness thence afterwards
resulting. I know this from experience; and so, if I had to advise anybody,
I would never counsel anyone, to whom good inspirations may come, to resist
them through fear of the difficulty of carrying them into effect; there
is no reason of being afraid of failure since God is omnipotent.
“Though I could not at first bend
my will to be a nun, I saw that the religious state was the best
and safest. And thus, by little and little, I resolved to force myself
into it. The struggle lasted three months. I used to press this reason
against myself: The trials and sufferings of living as a nun cannot be
greater than those of Purgatory, and I have well deserved to be in Hell.
It is not much to spend the rest of my life as if I were in Purgatory,
and then go straight to Heaven. The devil put before me that I could not
endure the trials of religious life, because of my delicate nurture. I
was subject to fainting-fits, attended with fever, for my health was always
weak. I defended myself against him by alleging the trials which Christ
endured, and that it was not too much for me to suffer something for His
sake; besides, He would help me to bear it. I remember perfectly
well that the pain I felt when I left my father’s house was so great
(he would never give his consent to my entering) that I do not believe
the pain of dying will be greater, for it seemed to me as if every bone
in my body were wrenched asunder. When I took the habit, Our Lord at once
made me understand how He helps those who do violence to themselves, in
order to serve Him, I was filled with a joy so great that it has never
failed me to this day.”
11. Objections
To make matters worse, we play into the
hands of the Tempter by listening to his objections, or building up for
ourselves imaginary difficulties, which may never occur, forgetting that
with the call comes the special “Grace of Vocation,” with which,
as the Apostles assures us, “we can do all things.”
1. “I may not persevere.” - Were one to hesitate
before a possible failure, little would be done in the world, but
the Church wisely guards against this danger by giving the aspirant to
Religion ample time, in the noviceship, to try if he is really called or
suited for such a life. To leave or be dismissed from the house of probation
is no disgrace, but simply shows God has other designs on the soul. St
Joseph of Cupertino was several times refused admission into the Franciscan
Order as unsuitable, He entered the Capuchins, but was sent away, after
eight months’ trial, because it was thought he had no vacation. Out of
compassion he was then received by the Franciscans, with whom he lived
till his saintly death.
Suarez tells us we are to consider less our own strength in the matter
than the help of grace, for it is in God we must particularly trust. He
will not desert us if only we are faithful to His inspirations. If
He calls those who do not seek Him, much more will He aid and protect those
who have obeyed His call.
“If I did but know that I should persevere,” says the author
of the Imitation, “and presently he heard within himself an answer from
God: ‘Do now what thou wouldst do then, and thou shalt be very secure.’”
Instead of being frightened at the sight of a few who have been inconstant
in their vocation, St. John Chrysostom says, why not consider the great
number of those who, faithful to their engagements, find in Religion peace,
happiness and salvation?
2. “My health may break down.” - No religious
is ever dismissed, after Profession, through ill–health. Should God not
give sufficient strength for the duties of the novitiate, it is an evident
sign that He wants the novice elsewhere. Thus St. Benedict Joseph Labre,
finding himself unable to persevere with either the Cistercians or Carthusians,
and having tried in vain, for two years, to enter among the Trappists,
saw that his vocation lay in another direction, the perfect imitation,
in the world, of the humble, suffering life of the Master. Experience
has proved in numberless cases that the regular Community life is
of immense benefit to those of feeble health, and God rewards the generous
spirit and trust of one willing to serve Him in the midst of infirmities,
by giving new vigour and strength.
Pere Surin, S.J. advised his mother to become a Carmelite nun at the
age of fifty–six. So delicate had she been that she required the constant
attendance of four nurses, yet during the fifteen years she lived in the
convent, observing all the austerities of the Rule, she never once entered
the infirmary.
Another Carmelite, Madame Soyecourt, who died at the age of eighty,
had never even abstained in the world on account of ill-health.
St. Bernard served God faithfully for sixty-three years, never relaxing
his penances, fasting or labors, though from his entry into religion he
was extremely delicate and constantly spat blood.
3. “I should break my parent’s heart.” – When
the devil sees in anyone a religious vocation, he does everything possible
to prevent him following that attraction. But of all the means he makes
use of, the love of one’s parents is the most powerful and dangerous. He
shows it to be so just and reasonable, he makes use of such specious sophisms,
that the poor soul does not know to which voice to listen – that which
call him or that which bids him go back.
St. Alphonsus Liguori declared that the
hardest trial of all his life was when he made known to his father his
determination of quitting the world. “Dear father, I see that you suffer
for my sake. However, I must declare that I no longer belong to this world:
God has called me, and I am determined to follow His voice.” For three
hours the father clasped him in his arms weeping and repeating, “My
son, do not leave me! Oh, my son, my son! I do not deserve this treatment.”
If he had listened to this pathetic appeal the Church would have lost one
of her grandest saints; fortunately he remembered the words of Him Who
could call Himself “the kindest and gentlest of men”: “Do not
think that I came to send peace upon earth: I came not to send peace but
the sword. For I came to separate the son from the father, and the daughter
from the mother; … he that loveth father or mother more than Me is not
worthy of Me.”
A terrible responsibility rest on the
conscience of some parents, who, through selfishness or misguided love,
succeed in preventing their children from following the call of God, and
unscrupulously withhold from Him those He is drawing to Himself.
They may have the satisfaction of keeping
a little longer with them those to whom they have given birth, but they
must annt of realization
of the immense advantages of religious life, and the merit which comes
from the living vows.
Would St. Francis, St. Dominic, or St. Ignatius have done more for God’s
glory had they led the life of pious laymen, and would not the world have
been poorer and heaven emptier if Nano Nagle, Catherine Macaule or Mary
Aikenhead had refused the grace offered them?
5. “Good people are wanted in the world.” –
But does God want ME there? If so, why did He give me a call to leave it?
Surely I must take it for granted that He knows what is best for me and
for His glory, and blindly follow His voice.
Pere Olivaint, one of the Jesuit Martyrs
of the Commune, answers the objection of a young man who wished to remain
in the world as follows: “My parents have plans for my future. …But
what does God want? In that position which is offered to me men will hold
me in great esteem. … But God? My natural taste moves me in that direction…
But God? I shall certainly be able to save my soul in the world. …True,
but does God wish that you should save it there?”
Granting that I have a clear vocation
to the religious life, where I shall be far better able and more fitted
to work for the welfare of my neighbor, I cannot persuade myself that I
could do more good by going against the Will of God.
6. “I may be unhappy in the convent.” – Is
the world, then, such an earthly paradise, so full of love, peace and happiness
that no sorrows is to be found there? Religious may have much to suffer,
days of trial and desolation to be endured, the grinding monotony of a
never changing round of duties to be bravely faced, day by day, yet with
St. Paul they can exclaim: “I super-abound with joy in the midst of
my tribulations.”
“Father,” said an old Trappist
monk, “I have so much consolation here amid all our austerities I fear
I shall have none in the next world.”
“One evening in winter,” writes
the Little Flower, “I was about my lowly occupation; it was cold and
dark. Suddenly I heard the harmony of several musical instruments outside
the convent, and pictured to myself a richly furnished, brilliantly-lit
drawing-room, resplendent with gilding and decorations; young ladies, tastefully
dressed were sitting there and paying each other many a vain compliment.
Then I looked on the poor invalid I was tending. For the music I had her
complaints; for the gilded drawing-room, the brick walls of an austere
convent, lighted only by a feeble glimmer. The contrast was exceedingly
sweet. The dim light of earthly joys was denied me, but the light of God
shone all around. No, I would not have bartered those ten minutes taken
by my deed of charity for ten thousand years of worldly diversions.”
“Here in Carmel,” she adds, “a
prey to bodily and spiritual anguish, I am happier than I was in the world;
yes, happier even than in my home, and by my beloved father’s side.”
7. “Perhaps I never had a vocation.” –Many
persons have been tried by great doubts about their vocation, sometimes
fearing they had deceived themselves, and that it would be impossible for
them to secure their salvation in the religious state. All sweetness and
devotion seems to have vanished; everything is wearisome, prayer, spiritual
reading, even recreation, a clear sign, they think, that God never wished
them to enter !
Theologians, and at their head St. Liguori,
lay it down as a principle that even if one should enter religion without
a vocation and persevere through the novitiate, God will certainly give
one at the moment of pronouncing one’s vows. To hesitate or doubt when
that step has been taken would be treason: “He who puts his hand to
the plough and looks back, is not worthy of Me.”
Moreover, that repugnance and even dislike,
which some suffer from during the whole of their religious life, is not
a sign of want of vocation, if they persevere; God is only trying their
fidelity to increase their merit.
8. “Wait! Wait! Wait!”
“If I were you I would not be in
such a hurry.” –- But Jesus would not let the young man remain
even to bury his father: “Let the dead bury their dead,” He said,
“and come thou and follow Me – make haste and tarry not.”
“You do not know the world.” --I
know it is my worst foe, the friend and helper of my deadly enemy, Satan,
and a danger I should fear and fly from.
“You are too young, wait a while.”
-- Should I wait till the foul breath of the world has tarnished
the beauty of the lily of my soul, which God loves for its spotless purity
and wants for himself. “It is well for a man who has borne the yoke
from his youth.”
Prayer For Priests
12. Advantages of Religious Life
Within the limits of a small pamphlet
it would be impossible to give even an outline of the advantages of the
religious state, and the heavenly favors enjoyed by those who are called
to such a life. “What a glorious kingdom of the Holy Ghost is
the religious state!” writes Father Meschler, S.J. “It is like an
island of peace and calm in the middle of the fleeting, changing, restless
flood of this earthly life. It is like a garden planted by God and
blessed with the fat of the land and the dew of heavenly consolation.
It is like a lofty mountains where the last echoes of this world are still,
and the first sounds of the blessed eternity are heard. What peace,
what happiness, purity and holiness has it shed over the face of the earth.”
Nor is this to be wondered at, since
God is never outdone in generosity, rewarding the sacrifices made in obedience
to His call with a lavish hand.
Peter said to Him: “Behold, we have
left all things, and have followed Thee: what, therefore, shall we have?”
And Jesus said to them: “You shall receive a hundred-fold and possess
life everlasting.”
“Taste and see how sweet the Lord
is,” says the Psalmist, for only those who have experience of the happiness,
peace and contentment of the cloister realize fully the truth of the Savior’s
words: “Mary hath chosen the better part.” The present writer
could quote the heartfelt words of gratitude to God from many a soul for
the grace of their vocation. One who had to suffer much in breaking
the ties which bound her to the world and home, writes: “I seem to be
slowly awakening from a long dream. I am so very happy I do not know
if I am myself or some one else. How can I ever thank God enough
for bringing me here?”
St. Jerome compares religious, who have
left the world, to the Israelites delivered from the bondage of Egypt,
and says God has shown great love for them in exchanging their hard slavery
for the sweet liberty of the children of God.
A. Its Happiness
Many caricatures have been painted of
monks and nuns, depicting them as a merry, jovial crew, rejoicing in the
good things of this world, but no artist has ever yet drawn a religious
community as a collection of sad-faced, melancholy beings. The very
atmosphere of a convent is joy and tranquility, its inmates bright and
cheerful; for, safe from the storms and troubles of the world and the insatiable
desire for wealth, free from the cares, the anxieties, of a home and family,
protected by the mantle of a loving charity from the disputes, the quarrels
and petty jealousies of life, they have at last found true happiness, which
consists in peace of soul and contentment of heart.
The world may boast of many things, but
it cannot claim to give happiness to its followers. One who had the
means of gratifying every craving, Solomon, sadly exclaimed: “Whatsoever
my heart desired, I refused them not, and I withheld not my heart from
enjoying every pleasure, but I saw in all things only vanity and vexation
of spirit, except to love God and serve Him alone.”
The life of a religious, like that of
every other human being, must be a warfare to the end; they have their
crosses and tribulations, and God, in order to sanctify them, often sends
great trials and interior sufferings, yet through it all, deep down in
the soul they feel the presence of Christ’s most precious gift: “My
peace I leave you, My peace I give you,” that peace of heart, “a
continual feast,” which the world knows not of, nor can earthly pleasures
bestow.
Hence St. Lawrence Justinian says: “Almighty
God has designedly concealed the happiness of religious life, because if
it were known all will relinquish the world and fly to religion.”
“An earthly Paradise,” says St.
Mary Magdalen of Pazzi; and St. Scholastica, “If men knew the peace
which religious enjoy in retirement, the entire world would become one
great convent.”
Secure in the possession of God, rejoicing
in the promise of a glorious eternity, is it any wonder that those who
left all to follow Christ should find “His yoke sweet and His burden
light”? The writer of Recit d’une Sœur sums up well this
picture of true religious life in these words: “Happiness in heaven
purchased by happiness on earth.”
B. Its Holiness
Spiritual writers say that
life in religion surpasses all others, because it removes obstacles to
perfection and consecrates one, in the most perfect manner, to God. The
world, with its round of amusements and distractions is the deadly enemy
of piety, and even the best disposed persons find it hard not to be influenced
by the prevailing spirit of indifference to spiritual things, or unaffected
by so much careless, if not downright evil, example around them.
Many a holy soul hungers for prayer and recollection, only to find that
the cares of a family, the calls of social duties, the unavoidable visits
and entertainment, encroach far on the limited time they can give to God.
In religion, on the other
hand, care of the soul is the first and most important duty, its advancement
and perfection the great business of life.
By a wise economy of time, religious,
in spite of many other occupations, can devote four or five hours a day
to meditation, prayer, visits to the Blessed Sacrament, and the recitation
of the Office, so well distributed that no burden is felt.
His Rules and
the voice of Obedience make known to him the Will of God, which he could
never be certain of in the world; they protect him from a multitude of
dangerous temptation, shutting out in great measure the possibility of
sin; the company of so many chosen souls, their generous example and saintly
lives, spur him on to nobler things; saved from all worldly anxieties,
he can give his whole heart to the service and love of God, leading a life
which is an earnest, if humble, imitation of his Lord and Master Jesus
Christ.
“O Lord,” cries out holy David, “a single day in Thy house is worth a thousand in the courts of sinners.” “I hold it for certain,” says St. Alphonsus, “that the greatest number of the vacant thrones of the fallen Seraphim will be occupied by souls sanctified in the religious state. Among the sixty persons canonized during the last century there were only five who did not belong to religious orders.”
C. “The Triple Cord” –The Vows
But that which constitute
the essence of religious life, and give to it such merit, is the observance
of the three vows of Evangelical Perfection – Poverty, Chastity and Obedience.
A vow is a solemn promise made to God, after serious deliberation and having
fully grasped its responsibilities, by which the soul engages to perform
something, under pain of sin, which is better to do than to omit.
It is certain
that it is more perfect and more agreeable to God to do a good work, after
having obliged ourselves to do it by vow, than to do it freely without
this obligation. For, as St. Thomas says, an act of perfect virtue is always
of itself more excellent than that of a lesser virtue. Thus, an act of
charity is more meritorious than an act of mortification, since charity
is a more perfect virtue than the virtue of penance. After the theological
virtues of Faith, Hope and Charity, the most perfect of all is the virtue
of Religion, by which we worship God; a vow is an act of this the noblest
of all the moral virtues, the Virtue of Religion, and by it all the actions
performed in virtue of the vows are elevated to the dignity of acts of
religion, giving them not only much greater value in the eyes of God and
imparting to the will constancy and firmness in well-doing, but immensely
increasing the holiness of the person, since from each action he reaps
a double reward, the merit of the act of virtue, and the merit of the act
of religion, imparted by the vow.
Of all the
vows that can be made, the three of the religious state are the noblest
and the best. The perfection of a Christian consists in renouncing the
cupidities of life, in trampling on the world, in breaking all ties that
hold him captive, and in being bound and united to God by perfect charity.
The three great obstacles that prevent him from acquiring this perfection
are, according to St. John, the concupiscence of the eyes for riches, the
concupiscence of the flesh for the pleasure of the senses, and the pride
of life for seeking after honours. The vow of poverty destroys the
first, the vow of chastity the second, and that of obedience the third.
By these vows
man makes of himself a perfect sacrifice to God, he offers himself as a
holocaust to His glory, surrendering into His hands, for ever, not only
all earthly possessions that he has or might have, but even gives up his
liberty and will, the most perfect immolation a human being can make.
Seeing how
pleasing is this lifelong sacrifice to God, the Fathers of the Church,
St. Jerome, St. Bernard, the Angelic Doctor and many others, have always
called religious profession a “Second Baptism”, by which the guilt
and punishment due for past sins is entirely remitted.
“A religious
lives more happily and dies more confidently,” wrote St. Bernard; and
well he may, for he knows that the three vows which bound him forever to
the service of his Master have washed away all trace of a sinful past,
that the evil deeds of his life, be they as numerous as the sands on the
seashore, with all the dreadful consequences they brought with them, have
been blotted out by the recording angel, and that his soul is as pure and
spotless as when first the waters of baptism made him the heir of heaven:
“Greater love than this no man hath,” said the Saviour, “that
a man lay down his life for his friends,” and, adds the Apostle: “Charity
(the love of God) covereth a multitude of sins.” By the daily crucifixion
of his life, the religious makes this offering of all that is dear to him
into the hands of his Friend and Master, a martyrdom far more painful than
that of blood, but one which he knows will win for him a glorious crown.
One can easily
understand, then, the determination of those who for one reason or another
have been obliged to leave a religious house to enter again. Disappointment,
delays, even refusal, seem but to increase their longing to give themselves
to God, for they have learned in the convent the beauty and grandeur of
a life which is “All Jesus”, they have tasted their sweetness and
realized the possibilities of immense holiness within its walls, and, like
Isabella of France, who refused the hand of the Emperor Frederick to become
a humble nun, they exclaim: “A spouse of Jesus Christ is far more than
even an Empress.”
13. THE HARVEST OF SOULS
In the preceding pages
we have seen brief, therefore, the Lord
of the harvest that He send labourers into His harvest.”
The words died away, but their echo has never ceased to
sound. “The harvest is great, but the labourers are few.” Turn where
we will, in no matter what part of the globe, and there we shall see still
the harvest of souls, waiting to be garnered into the Master’s granaries.
“Send me
half a million priests,” writes a Jesuit missioner from India, “and
I promise to find them abundant work at once.”
“For the
love of God, come out to us. I have come across millions of men here in
Africa who need but to hear Our Lord’s words and deeds to become so many
good and happy Christians.”
Another, as
he gazes at the teeming Chinese population around him, exclaims: “The
ten thousand catechumens of my district would be a hundred thousand tomorrow
if there were priests and nuns enough to instruct and receive them.”
“The harvest
indeed is great” – a total Pagan population in the world of 995,000,000
(nine-hundred and ninety-five million) [in 1910 – ed.], or eight
out of every thirteen of the human race, who have never heard the Name
of God, each with an immortal soul looking for salvation. America, on the
authority of Archbishop Ireland, with its forty thousand converts in one
year; England, registering, at the last census, twenty million of her people
as having “no religion”, while from every town and village of our
own land comes the cry for more Brothers, Priests and Nuns to labor in
the fields “white with the harvest.”
“Pray ye,
therefore,” still pleads the Saviour from the tabernacle, as He gazes
on the vast work yet to be done, “pray ye the Lord that He send labourers,
many and zealous, into His harvest.”
How to Discern Your Vocation
14. AN APPEAL
Boys and girls, young men
and ladies, with your young lives so full of promises opening out before
you, have you no nobler ideals, no loftier ambition, than to spend your
days in pleasure and amusement, while your brothers and your sisters look
appealing to you for help? Lift up your eyes and see the harvest awaiting
you, the most glorious work ever given man to do –the saving of immortal
souls!
The day of
Ireland’s greatest glory was the time when the land was covered with a
golden network of schools and monasteries; when her missioners and nuns
were to be found in every clime and country; when every tenth Irishman
and woman was consecrated to God and His service. “If our country would
be born again,” wrote Thomas Francis Meagher, “she must be baptized
once more in the old Irish holy well.” This is the work that lies before
you, the work God looks to you to do – strengthening the Faith that St.
Patrick, St. Francis Xavier, St. Alphonsus and other saints left us, preaching
the truth to an unbelieving world, sacrificing yourselves, as your ancestors
did before, leaving home and friends, and, for the sake of God, giving
your life that others may be saved.
A vocation
is, indeed, the gift of God, but through love of the souls whom He longs
to save, gladly would He bestow it on many more, if only they would listen
to His voice or ask him for this treasure.
Are you one,
dear reader, at whose heart Jesus has long been knocking, perhaps in vain,
inviting, pleading, urging? “The Master is here and calls for you”;
He has need of you for His work. Follow Him bravely and trustfully, you
will never regret it. But if you have not yet heard that voice, then remember
His words: “Ask and you shall receive”; ask Him for a vocation,
not once but daily, ask confidently, perseveringly, for He has pledged
His word to hear you, so that you, also, may share the happiness of those
who serve the Lord, and that "your joy" – like theirs
– “may be full.”
“One thing
I have asked of the Lord, this will I seek after, that I may dwell in the
house of the Lord all the days of my life.” Ps. xxvi.4
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