The Reward of Loving God

LET us see what benefit accrues to us from loving God. Though we may see this ever so imperfectly, that is better than to be blind to it. We have spoken (though in a manner unworthy of God, yet to the best of our power) of God's right to our love ; we will now speak of the recompense He has attached to our loving Him ; for whilst we must love God, independently of all reward, we shall none the less be rewarded for having loved Him. True charity cannot be left without salary, although she is not mercenary and seeketh not her own. Love is a going forth of the soul, not a contract ; it is not the result of a convention, and is not to be acquired by agreement ; it is spontaneous in its impulses, and likens us to itself; also true love is its own satisfaction. Its recompense lies in the object of its love ; for whatever be that which we seem to love, if our real object be something else, 3o LOVE OF GOD.

it is really that something which we love, and not that by which our heart strives to attain it. St. Paul preached not the gospel for his daily bread, but the bread which kept him alive enabled him to preach the gospel. What he loved was the gospel, not the bread. True love seeks no reward, but it merits one ; it is very certain that no one proposes to pay for love, although it not only deserves its re compense, but shall surely have it. In a lower class of things, who are they that are excited by the offer of rewards ? Those that are slack and unloving. Does it ever occur to any one to persuade with pay those that are burning to be allowed to serve? One does not give money to a starving man to engage him to eat, no more than to a tender mother to induce her to give suck to her child, to get a vinedresser to protect his vines, or a householder to rebuild his fallen house. Far less does he who loves God need to be urged by the promise of a recompense which is other than God Himself; otherwise it would be the reward he loved, not God.

It is natural to a reasonable being to desire that which appears to him, according to his particular mode of thinking, better than what he possesses ; and never to be satisfied if a good thing wants the particular quality which he prefers. If he loves beauty he will desire what seems to him most beautiful. If he plumes himself on the posses sion of a very precious jewel, he will desire to possess a still more splendid one ; and whatever riches he may have, his nature is to want more. Is it not a thing we see every day, the owner of immense property and wealth buying up more land, and never content but in extending his estates ? Those who dwell in vast palaces, are they not for ever building new ones, always altering, making round the cornered, and the cornered round ? Are not men in high position constantly aspiring to higher, constantly striving to rise, out of an am bition more and more difficult to appease ? There is no limit to such restlessness, because, in all such things, it is impossible to reach a point absolutely good and high. But it is not astonishing that so long as a man can see beyond him something greater and more perfect, he should be dissatisfied with his own possession of what is less and worse. What does seem foolish beyond all expression is, always to be longing for things which cannot even lull to sleep our desires, far less satisfy them. What follows? this — that the heart, tempted by many deceitful charms, wearies itself to no purpose, is always craving, and counts for nothing what it has enjoyed, compared to what it fain would have; and is tormented, by desire of what it has not, out of all delight with what it possesses. All one cannot have ; for the little it is possible to get, the price of labour must be paid ; and it must be en joyed with trembling ; nay, with the miserable certainty that one day it must be lost, though the date of that day be not known.

I have described the conduct of a perverted will blindly seeking the sovereign good. It makes haste in vain, the plaything of its own vanity, de ceived by iniquity. Why wear out the day in fruit less struggle this way and that, and be caught by death unsatisfied? In such toils do the profane entangle themselves who seek about, like fools, to obtain their souls' desires. They consume , their life in useless efforts and arrive at no perfect happi ness ; for they are in love with created things, not with the Creator, and they try them, one and then another, before they dream of trying the Lord that made them all. Yet, if they could have their hearts' desire and achieve the possession of the world, less Him who is its author, they would feel at last, by the same law which has ruled their life, that Him they must have, or never rest. They have gone from one ambition to another, coveting always some better thing ; and now, masters of all in heaven and earth, they would soon find all insuffi cient, and discover that they were forced to seek Him who is wanting still, they must seek God Himself. Once discover that, once attain unto LOVE OF GOD.

Him, there is peace ; it is impossible to go beyond. The soul must cry out : “ It is good for me to adhere to my God;” or, “What besides Thee have I in heaven, and besides Thee what do I desire upon earth?” and again: “Thou art the God of my heart, and the God that is my portion for ever.” Even this way would a soul necessarily end in God if it could try in sequence all lesser things than He. But life is too short, and strength would fail for any such attempt ; also the number of competitors is too great. It would be impossible to try all creatures and find them wanting. It were more easy and more advantageous to do the work in imagination than in reality. Our minds have been endowed with more activity and perspicacity than our hearts precisely for this end— that they may go first and prevent the heart from attaching itself to what the mind has not first found desirable. “ Prove all things : hold fast that which is good.” The first should prepare the ground for the second, so that the heart should follow the judgment of the mind. Otherwise there is no hope of “ ascending into the mountain of the Lord, and dwelling in His holy place ;” and it is in vain that we possess a reasoning mind, if we do as the beasts do, and only obey our senses, the reason not interfering. They who are not guided by reason, run indeed in the race, but they run without chance of winning. D LOVE OF GOD.

How should they win, seeing they care not first for the prize, but put that last of all ? How should they do other than entangle themselves in a maze without beginning or end? Not so with the just. Warned by the blame addressed to those who thus err (for the way is wide and well trodden that leads to death), they choose the royal road which turns to neither right nor left, for “ the path of the just is straight.” They take the shortest road, guided by a word as simple as simplifying, commanding them not to heed what their eyes may see, but to sell all and give to the poor ; for blessed indeed are such poor, and the kingdom of heaven is theirs. The Lord knoweth the way of the just, and commendeth it. He knoweth also the way of the sinner, in which he cannot but perish. The just are happy in their poverty, and the rich unsatisfied in their abundance ; for the wise man saith : “He that loveth riches shall reap no fruit from them.” But they who “hunger and thirst after justice shall be filled.” Justice is their needful food. As to the things of this world, the soul is no more nourished by them than the body is by air. If we were to see a starving man inhaling with wide open mouth, drinking long draughts of wind to quench his thirst, we should say, Poor fool ! So is it with those who seek to satisfy the soul with worldly goods, which do but puff it out as with wind, and no more feed it than things spiritual feed our bodies. “ Bless the Lord, O my soul, who satisfieth thy desire with good things.” He filleth thee out of His fulness ; at once giving thee thy desire, and exciting thee to wish for more. He prevents, He sustains, He fills thee ; He kindles desire in thy heart, and He Himself is the Object of all desire.

I have said that the motive of our love to God is God Himself, and it is well said, for He is both the efficient cause and the final end of our love. He is such that it is impossible to know and not to love Him ; not also to hope in Him ; for, if we did not hope to love Him perfectly hereafter, our present love for Him would be nothing. Our love is prepared and recompensed by His. He first loves us out of His exceeding goodness ; then He claims the due return of love, and permits us in the future the most glorious hopes. He is generous to those who call upon Him, but He can give nothing better than Himself. He Himself is the end of our merits, and our reward. He is the food of holy souls, the ransom of those that are yet in captivity. If the Lord be good to the soul that seeketh Him, what is He to that soul which hath found Him ? But this may seem strange, that no one can seek the Lord who hath not already found Him ; for His will is to be found that He may be yet more sought ; and sought, that He may be more entirely found. But, though He may be sought and found, He can never be forestalled. He is always first; and if we say: “In the morning my prayer shall prevent Thee,” it is nevertheless quite certain that that prayer would be very chilly if, O God, th'ine inspiration did not precede it.

We have spoken of the consummation of the love of God, let us now see what are its beginnings.