themselves. We begin with our priesthood and pastoral care, and we have still many of the faults which they had before they received their supernatural powers. And yet He dwells in the midst of us, silent and calm, seeing all our faults, yet blind to them; forgiving them, as He forgave Peter, with renewed commands to feed His sheep. His patience, too, is generous. He is easily satisfied. One word of self-accusation, of self-rebuke, of self-reproach, and all is past. We cannot and ought not to forget our unworthy words and actions, but He puts them behind His back. "He will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax."[1] He waits in patience and in hope for our growth in perfection. And it is He that is the first to draw us to Himself before we have resolved to come. We fear and hesitate from conscious unworthiness, till an impulse of the will overcomes reluctance. It needs a firm conscience to examine itself truly. We see our faults without looking at them. To look is disquieting and humbling. It breaks our peace where there ought to be no peace till we have been open and honest with our good Master, who will easily forgive us if we do not so easily forgive ourselves.
5. Lastly, in friendship there is mutual society.
- ↑ Isaias xlii. 3.
