Page:Sermons by John-Baptist Massillon.djvu/574

 Christ, dying  and  crowned  with  thorns,  with  delicate  and  sensual members? Would this  connexion  not  be  horrible? Will you dare, by  converting  his  body  into  your  own  substance,  to  transform it into  an  effeminate  and  voluptuous  body? Ah! it would  be  the perfection of  iniquity. To be  nourished  with  the  body  of  Jesus Christ, your  members  must  become  his  members,  his  body  must take the  figure  of  your  body. Now, his  body  is  a  crucified  body; his members  are  suffering  members;  and,  if  you  live  without  suffering;  if  you  bear  not  upon  your  body  the  mortification  of  Jesus Christ; if,  perhaps,  you  have  never  practised  a  single  instance  of  selfdenial;  if  your  days  are  passed  in  a  tranquil  effeminacy;  if  afflictions excite impatience;  if  you  feel  hurt  at  every  thing  which  opposes your humour;  if  you  prescribe  to  yourself  no  works  of  mortification; if those  sent  to  you  by  heaven  are  unwillingly  and  unthankfully received; how  will  you  that  you  unite  your  body  to  that  of  Jesus Christ? This is  never  reflected  upon,  my  brethren,  and  nevertheless, a  soft  and  sensual  life  can  be  a  presage  only  of  an  unworthy communion.

Lastly. The death  of  the  Lord  is  shown  in  this  mystery,  for  he is  there  himself  as  in  a  state  of  death. He hath  a  mouth  and speaketh not;  eyes,  and  useth  them  not;  feet,  and  walketh  not. View then,  my  brother,  and  act  according  to  this  model;  behold how you  ought  to  show  his  death  in  partaking  of  his  body:  you must bring  there  eyes  instructed  to  be  closed  for  the  earth;  a tongue  accustomed  to  silence,  or  to  sayings  of  God,  as  St.  Paul says; feet  and  hands  immoveable  for  the  works  of  sin;  senses either extinguished  or  mortified:  in  a  word,  to  bring  there  a  universal death  over  your  body. The state  of  Jesus  Christ  in  the eucharist is  the  state  of  the  Christian  on  earth;  a  state  of  retreat, of silence,  of  patience,  of  humiliation,  of  divorce  from  the  senses. For, what  is  Jesus  Christ  in  the  eucharist? He is  in  the  world as if  not  there:  he  is  in  the  midst  of  men,  but  invisible;  he  hears their vain  discourses,  their  chimerical  plans,  their  frivolous  expectations, but  he  enters  not  into  them;  he  sees  their  solicitudes,  their agitations, and  their  enterprises,  and  he  allows  them  to  act;  divine honours are  paid  to  him,  and  he  is  insulted;  and,  ever  the  same, he seems  insensible  alike  to  the  insults  as  to  the  homages:  he looks  on  while  families,  empires,  and  ages  are  renewed;  manners are changed;  the  taste  of  men  and  of  ages  are  incessantly  fluctuating; he  sees  customs  sink  into  decay  and  then  revive;  the  figure of this  world  in  an  eternal  revolution;  his  inheritance  divided; wars, seditions,  and  unexpected  revolutions;  the  whole  universe shaken; and  he  is  tranquil  upon  its  ruins;  and  nothing  withdraws him from  his  close  and  ineffable  study  of  his  Father;  and  nothing interrupts the  divine  quiet  of  his  sanctuary,  where  he  is  always living for  the  purpose  of  interceding  for  us. Once more,  consider and act  according  to  this  model:  let  us  bring  to  the  sacred  table eyes long  since  closed  upon  every  thing  which  may  hurt  our  soul; a tongue  surrounded  with  a  guard  of  circumspection  and  of  modesty; eats  chaste  and  impenetrable  to  the  hissings  of  the  serpent,