Sermon 313F

Sermon 313/F

Held in the Basilica of the Blessed Martyr Cyprian in Mappalia
His birthday

In the morning, Augustine had discoursed about restless charity.

First, I will respond to my brother and colleague. I said in the morning that love must be restless, not idle; but since he wished it, let us obey, both him and God through him, and to you, and let him give obedience within you. We have sung: I have hoped in the mercy of God. Of our hope, let us say a little. And the words of our sermon indeed will have an end suitable to the time; but the hope itself, of which we speak, must endure, and not cease with our sermon. We speak, and we desist; but it always cries out to God. But even this hope—it may be hard what I am saying, but it will not offend if I show why I am saying it, and I believe it will not offend—but even this hope will not be eternal. For when the thing itself comes, hope will not be; indeed, it is called hope only as long as the thing is not yet held, as the Apostle says: Hope, however, which is seen is not hope. For what one sees, why does he hope for? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. Therefore, if hope which is seen is not hope, because what one sees, why does he hope for? And thus it is called hope, because we hope for what we do not see; when what we see will come, hope will not be, because it will be the thing itself. Nor then will it be a curse to be without hope; but now, for anyone, to be without hope is a curse and a disgrace. And woe to him who is now without hope! For it is bad to be without hope, because it is not yet with the thing; then hope ceases to be, when the thing itself is held.

No man's life is without hope. How many are deceived by this hope.

But what is the very thing that will be held? What is it that will succeed hope? For we see men now hoping for many earthly things, and according to the world itself, no man's life is without hope; and, until he dies, no one is without hope; hope in children, that they may grow, that they may be educated, that they may know something; hope in young men, that they may marry, that they may beget children; hope in the parents of children, that they may nourish, educate, and see them grow up, whom they fondled when they were little; so that I may call this life of human hope the most important, which is, as it were, more natural, more excusable, and more common. For there are many vulgar hopes, very reprehensible; but let us hold on to this one, which is civil and natural. For anyone is born for this, to grow, to marry, to procreate children, to educate them, even to be called the father of children. What more does he seek? And the hope is not yet finished: he wishes to marry his sons to wives, and still he hopes. And when he has also attained this, he wishes for grandsons; and when he has them, behold, now there is a third succession, and the old man is reluctant to give way to children: he still seeks what he may wish for himself, seeks what he may hope for, and he seems benevolent. If only, he says, that boy would call me grandfather, and I would hear this from his mouth, and I would die! The boy grows, calls him grandfather, and he still does not recognize himself as a grandfather; for indeed, if he is a grandfather. If he is an old man, why does he not acknowledge that he must now depart, so that those who have been born may succeed? And when he has heard from the voice of a child the name of honor, he wants to educate him himself. Is anything lacking that he may hope for a great-grandson? So he dies, and he hopes; and he hopes for one thing after another, having received what he hoped for. But receiving what he hoped for, he is not satisfied, he yearns for other things. Why did what you hoped for come? Surely already to end, where are you going: the end is not extended. And how many are deceived by this hope, common hope! First it does not satisfy when it has come, and how many does it not come to! How many have hoped for wives and could not marry! How many have hoped for those with whom they would be well and have married those by whom they are tormented! How many have wished for children and could not receive them! How many have groaned over the evils of those they received! So everything. Someone hoped for riches: either he was tormented by desire for what he did not obtain, or having obtained, tortured by fear. And no one ceases to hope, no one is satisfied, so many are deceived, and they do not rest from the hope of the world.

God is now your hope, he himself will later be your reality.

Let our hope be sometimes not deceiving, but satisfying, and something so good that it cannot be better. What then is the thing we hope for, which, when it comes, hope will cease because the thing will succeed? What is that? Is it the earth? No. Something that is born on the earth, like gold, silver, a tree, a crop, water? None of these. Something that flies in the air? The soul abhors it. Could it be heaven, so beautiful and adorned with lights? For what is more delightful, what is more beautiful in these visible things? It is not this either. And what is it? These things delight, they are beautiful, they are good; seek the maker of these, he is your hope. He is your hope now, he will be your reality later; hope is for the believer, reality will be for the beholder. Say to him: "You are my hope." For now you rightly say: "You are my hope"; for you believe, but do not yet see; it is promised to you, you do not yet hold it. As long as you are in the body, you are a stranger from the Lord; you are on the way, not yet in the homeland. He, the ruler and creator of the homeland, became the way to lead you; therefore say to him now: "You are my hope." What later? "My portion in the land of the living." What is now your hope will later be your portion. Let your hope be in the land of the dying, and your portion will be in the land of the living. Turned to the Lord.