This is a lovely pastoral exhortation for the newly baptized, no matter the age, and a sobering and poetic reflection upon the typical ebb and flow of Christian life. There is consolation in knowing one’s struggles are not unusual. This homily is not about severity, but reassurance.
"You stand today before the face of the Lord your God..." (Deuteronomy 29:10-11).
These words were spoken by Moses to the people at the end of their forty years of wandering. The people stood on the border of Canaan. Before them lay the Promised Land—the wondrous land flowing with milk and honey, of which Israel had long dreamed.
This land is now before you. The Lord calls you to it.
Here you stand before the face of the Lord your God. Perhaps even at this moment, before God's face, you do not feel the Lord's touch and do not wish to see His land.
But you will see Him yet.
People are often blind and deaf until their hour comes. Their ears do not hear the Lord's voice, speaking as He did to Elijah in the gentle whisper. They do not hear Him even when He speaks in thunder and storms.
This is not a misfortune. You will hear Him yet during the long, cross-bearing journey of life.
The great Kepler said he was "thinking God's thoughts after Him, tracing the profound wisdom of the world He created." He saw and felt God in everything—in the harmonious order of the heavenly bodies and in the structure of a simple wildflower.
But consider Voltaire—he could not find God throughout his life. Only in his final moments did he come to know the One he did not wish to know. Heine and Rousseau also heard His calling voice on the threshold of another world.
And for us, too, the time will come to feel both the need for God and to hear His voice.
Hagar and Ishmael were cast into the wilderness. Their vessel had no water. Death stared them in the face. And at that moment, the Lord opened their eyes, and they saw a source of "living water" nearby. God revealed His face to them.
I am not saying that God will be revealed to us only at the gates of eternity. No, our life is still long, and there will often be moments when we need the hand of the Lord. And you will see Him because the soul is not entirely dead; it cannot live without God; it hungers without Him.
In deep mines, there are poor, stunted plants. They barely live but still stretch upward toward the sun. In the depths of souls—even those dark and distant from God—there are still not entirely "dead" corners where God shines. In the hustle of life, these corners are clogged, hidden by a scarlet veil. But the hunger for communion with God does not die and eventually makes itself known.
I know a man who openly says, "Why God? Life can be well arranged without Him—even better." I believe that for him (and you know this person), it's better without God. God is superfluous to him. He hinders him from living as he wishes, following the "desires of his own heart." The thought of God and responsibility poisons his trivial joys. Naturally, he drives God away because he fears Him, wants to forget about His judgment, about the account he will have to give. But I am convinced that even he will need God yet. All the more will you need Him.
Without God, life is "the devil's vaudeville," as one writer put it—a nonsense, a cruel joke full of darkness and contradictions.
But let me return to the beginning.
You are on the border of the Promised Land, I said. The Lord is bringing you into His gracious Kingdom—a great joy that you may not yet be able to appreciate. Over you, the greatest sacrament has been performed, which has brought you into the light of Christ.
The significance of this great sacrament is so immense that even Leo Tolstoy acknowledges the great importance of this "consecration to the service of God." And it will be a great pity if your souls take little from today's bright celebration.
You have stood under the banners of the Lord; you have clothed yourselves in bright and white garments; you hold in your hands the "lamps of faith," and so on. How rich in meaning all this is! How all this calls and preaches.
"All who have been baptized into Christ have been baptized into His death," was sung today. You heard the same in the Epistle. What does this mean?
Baptism is an image of the Lord's death.
We are baptized as if not with water but with the most pure blood of the Lamb of God. Baptism is the sacrament that calls us to unite with the Lord in the mystery of His death. The Lord died on the cross for the salvation of the world, to renew the world with His blood, to make life purer and more righteous.
By being baptized into the Lord's death, we commit ourselves to build the Kingdom of God with Him, to contribute at least one of our own bricks to the building of the Lord's Kingdom. By being baptized, we take upon ourselves the obligation to make the law of self-denial, love unto death—even death on the cross—the law of our life. This is the first commandment of today's celebration.
You have taken up the cross. This is the sign that you are going to the "battle of Christ," acknowledging yourself as His warrior. But "carrying the banner" does not mean only confessing the Lord with your lips. It means, in life itself, to fight for the truth, to fight against sin within your soul and evil outside.
Just as Israel had to destroy the sinful Canaanites—because otherwise, they would corrupt him—so you must put to death your "beloved" sins; otherwise, they will kill you. You have taken up the cross; as our forefathers struck with the sword to free Palestine from pagan feet, so you should act bravely and fearlessly in the great crusade for the holy land of your soul.
You are baptized, planted like a cherished vine in the Lord's vineyard. You are watered with the dew of heaven. Therefore, do not be like the barren fig tree, so that the Lord does not have to act with you like the owner of the vineyard who came seeking fruit on it and did not find any. He said to the vinedresser, "Look, for three years I have come seeking fruit on this fig tree and find none. Cut it down; why does it use up the ground?"
Burning candles have been given into your hands—keep them. Preserve the light of your Christ-enlightened soul. Guard the holy spark of faith and love kindled in your souls, and do not let the winds of life extinguish it.
I know you will stumble and fall more than once. I know that more than once you will stray far from Christ. More than once your lamps will seem extinguished. But I hope they will never go out completely. The frost of life may destroy fruits and leaves, but the root will live, and the vine of the soul will revive.
In your temptations and falls, you will not be alone. Do not think that you will remain helpless amid the waves of sin. The ocean of life is vast, and your little boat—a mere shell—will face many terrible shipwrecks on its harsh waves. But during the strong winds, the Lord will firmly hold your weak hand over the guiding helm, and you will safely reach your intended harbor. From the delicate threads of your weak, wavering will, He will forge iron cables to anchor you to the eternal hope that forms the anchor of the soul.
He has received you into the bosom of His Church, and from now on, like a guardian, He and His angels stand near your soul. The Lord is henceforth your Father, and there is no father on earth more compassionate and loving.
"He condescends to all our weaknesses. He sympathizes with all our sorrows. He has overcome all our temptations. He bears all the great burdens of our sins. Every beat of our heart is known to Him. He sees every tear we shed. He considers every cherished desire we hold. He answers every sincere prayer we make. When we are in deep humiliation, He supports us. In the difficult moments of our life, His angels do not abandon us. In the valley of darkness and death, where no one can accompany us, His radiance illuminates every dreadful step."
Your lamp will go out more than once. Do not despair. Do not be troubled. Do not lose heart. Hope, for your lamp will never completely go out as long as life lasts and the Spirit of God does not finally leave the human soul. Even if your lamp grows dim due to laziness or nearly goes out because of your sinfulness, believe that it can still be lit by Him who can ignite extinguished flames even now.
You have a means to rekindle the fire in your soul with a second baptism. This second baptism is repentance. To cleanse you from your secret leprosy, today the Lord has extended from heaven the finger of His healing right hand. To restore the lost health of the soul in the future, He has left a green leaf from the tree of life in the mystery of repentance.
In the holy sacraments of the Church, as at Pentecost, the Lord "again and again" ignites our smoldering spirit with His descending flame. Be courageous; I repeat, your lamp will be extinguished, but you will not perish if you hasten to light it anew.
You will stain the white garments of your soul with sin. Then remember repentance. In the Holy Land, there will still be a white garment for you; your feet can yet step on the "golden streets"; your lips can still drink from the pure river that flows from the throne of the Lord and the Lamb. Just know that repentance will erase your sins and falls from your conscience, but it will be sacrilege and a desecration of the sacrament of baptism if you deliberately and consciously give freedom to the "dogs of passions and lusts" living in your soul, hoping to wash afterward the soiled garments of the soul.
Parents and those who have taken upon themselves the great duty of guiding the newly enlightened! To you, I direct my words. You have taken upon yourselves a great responsibility. You must become the guardians of their baptismal garments—the keepers of the holy fire kindled in their souls.
You are responsible for their souls. Throughout their life's journey, you must support them in their Christian duty; maintain in them the understanding that life is not a holiday or a joyful stroll but a crusading feat of love and service to God and neighbors. Do not disgrace your great calling—the title of guarantors for a soul taken into the service of God. Do not let it escape from under the banner of its Leader—Christ.
In conclusion, one final word. Not all in this family have yet come to the Promised Land. Some are still far from the holy border. I hope that those who have already arrived will bring others along. How will they bring them? Through a passionate desire for their salvation, through prayer.
Saint Nonna converted her pagan husband to Christ—even though he was a pagan. How did she do it? We know that Saint Nonna's husband yielded to her pleas after a dream in which he heard a mysterious voice: "I rejoiced when they said to me, 'Let us go to the house of the Lord.'" But where did this voice come from? It was obviously the echo of Saint Nonna's prayers, calling him to the house of the Lord.
Pray that there may be unity of faith in this household. Let your prayer sound to them as a constant call: "Let us go to the house of the Lord." Better yet, let this voice constantly resound in your conscience: "Let us go to the house of the Lord."
Be always near the temple of God yourselves. But let your temple not be only the house of prayer but your entire life—the everyday moments of life. Let your life be an act of worship. Then those who have not yet come to Christ will see through your deeds that you are His disciples and will follow you.
Profoundly beautiful and moving! Thank you for sharing this.