“It is true that the outbreak of war put a sudden end to much that was thoughtless, stupid, and even base in contemporary life. ’Tango teas’ and afternoon Bridge among women have receded almost as far into ancient history as dinners at Ranelagh or suppers at Cremorne. But human nature is easily frightened into propriety by a crisis; it is not so easy to maintain the new way of life when the fright is safely over. The things that are amiss in our national life, and above all that lack of seriousness which so many observers have lamented during the last few years, can be amended only by a clear conviction of the inherent unsoundness of our outlook, and a firm determination to rebuild it upon new and more stable foundations.”
The soul of the nation needs discipline, and that can only come through the effort of the individual to discipline his own life.
There is a ceaseless temptation to echo the cry of the disciples in regard to the few loaves and fishes: “What are they among so many?”
Of what value or power is my feeble little life among the teeming millions that go to make up the nation?
Put away the thought, for it is a direct temptation of the Devil.
It was just when, in the very depths of his human despair, Elijah cried out, “I, I only am left,” that God revealed to him the seven thousand men who had not bowed the knee to Baal.
It was because Athanasius was content to stand contra mundum, against the world, that the Catholic faith was preserved to the Church.
Let us very seriously examine ourselves as to the use we are making of our life with regard to other people.
We have considered that life, in various details, in respect to ourselves, and only incidentally as it affects others, but now let us put away all thought of self.
Take the one absolute standard of life as set in the text, “I came down from Heaven, not to do mine own will, but the will of Him that sent me.”
The result was a life entirely devoted, from the first moment to the last, to one stupendous cause: the lifting up of humanity to the very throne of God.
You and I cannot reach even a fraction of the way towards that perfect standard; but it is our pattern, our plummet, our measuring-line.
Very practically, then, we must ask ourselves such questions as these:
What proportion of my time is spent for others?
Have I any method of employing time or any stated hours that I give to philanthropic or religious work; or do I just, in a casual way, let other people have odd moments, when I happen to think of it?
Similar questions should be asked as to money. Many people, especially those who do not keep accounts (which everyone ought to do), would be shocked if at the end of a year they could see the enormous disproportion between the vast amount they have frittered away on self, and the pitiful little doles they have handed out in the cause of charity.