Of Lukewarmness

Of Lukewarmness

First Point: There is no state more dangerous than a Lukewarm state.
Second Point: It is harder to recover out of a lukewarm state, than from any other.

First Point

Consider that by a lukewarm state is not meant a certain disposition of the soul, in which it contents itself with avoiding heinous sins, but takes little care to avoid small faults: it is negligent in spiritual duties, its prayers are distracted, its confessions without amendment, its communions without fervor and without fruit; it is unfaithful to the divine grace and sins without fear or remorse.

Such a soul grows indifferent to the greatest virtues, and soon after disgusted with them: its affections languish in the service of God, so that the yoke of Christ seems heavy and insupportable; its thoughts are distracted and so very little taken up with God or itself that is suffers them to rove after every object: it dares not retire in to itself because it can find no peace there. In this condition it makes no scruple of exposing itself to the occasions of sin, if it does any good 'tis only by sins, if it performs any duties, 'tis only out of custom: and provided it keeps some measures and avoids the reproaches of those of whom it stands in awe it is not at all solicitous to please God, whom it offends almost by every action.

It makes no difficulty of committing all sorts of venial sins with deliberation, it performs with reluctance and uneasiness those devotions which it cannot avoid: it entertains an aversion for pious Christians, because their virtue is an uneasy reproach to it: it takes pleasure only in the imperfect, because their actions countenance its carelessness.

Hence, proceed those pernicious friendships to which so many pretended friends owe their ruin, those insipid railleries on Christian exactness whereby they stifle the small remainders of their fervour; they are sooner in this wretched state of lukewarmness but they frame to themselves a false conscience, under the shelter of which they frequent the Sacraments and do some good works, yet still indulge themselves in secret aversion, in envious jealousies, in criminal and dangerous engagements, in [...] murmuring against their superiors, in self-love and in pride which influence almost all their actions, and in a hundred other faults of the same nature in the midst of which they live unconcerned. They persuade themselves that there is not great crime in all this, and seek for excuses to palliate those faults which God condemns as heinous sins, and which they themselves will condemn as such when they come to die, for when their passions will be no longer able to hinder them from seeing things as they are in themselves, surely it is no hard matter to discover that the Salvation of a man in such a state as this, is in great danger.

The state of a soul in mortal sin is very dangerous, but our Saviour judges a lukewarm state to be yet worse, for he tells the Angel, or Bishop, of the Church of Laodicea, I would 'thou wert either cold or hot, for because thou art lukewarm and neither cool nor hot, I will cast thee out of my mouth as tainted and offensive.

Does Jesus Christ, who bears with the greatest sinners, who is always ready to pardon them, who did not abhor even Judas himself, does he abhor a lukewarm soul? Hath He, who is so tender towards sinners, no tenderness, no love, for a soul that is neither cold nor hot? What hopes then can such a soul have of being saved?

We ought not to despair of the salvation of the most notorious sinner; though his disorder s and crimes have rendered his conversion difficult, we ought still to hope, for he knows his sins and is therefore more capable of being made sensible of them and of hating them. Tell the greatest sinner of the severe judgments of God, of Death, and of the rigour and duration of eternal tormentsl the force of these terrible verities may alarm and convert him: but all this makes no impression on a lukewarm soul - his condition is without remedy; because it abstains from crying and scandalous sins which startle a soul that hath any fear left, it does not mind spiritual and interior faults, it mingles them with some actions of Piety, so that they easily pass unregarded by a conscience that is not exceeding tender, and thus not knowing the greatness of its danger, it does nothing to prevent it.

Nothing does a soul good in this condition: Prayers, exhortations, reading, Masses, meditations, Sacraments - all our fruitless: whether it be that the little benefit is hath hitherto received by them gives it a disgust, and takes away its desire to make use of them, or that being accustomed to them they have less effect and that having heard these terrible truths discoursed of a hundred times, and having as often discoursed of them itself to no purpose, they make no impression on it.

It receives but few graces because of its unfaithfulness in those which it does receive, its faults are always great because they are attended with a higher contempt, a greater malice and a blacker ingratitude than the faults of others: this odious mixture of good and bad which compose the character of a lukewarm soul discovers clearly how injurious such a conduct is to God: the seeming good works that it does are a convincing proof that it hath not forgotten God, but its careless and imperfect way of doing them shows how little it stands in awe of that God whom it serves with so much indifference and disgust. And indeed, this disgust is mutual, it has an aversion to Christ and Christ hath an aversion to it, no wonder that such men immediately after their communions are ready to return again to and renew their sins as if they had not received. The opinion of their pretended good works tenders them proof against all wholesome advice, they can heart it with all the coldness in the world, and 'tis this that makes so many good thoughts and holy inspirations useless.

Hence proceeds the strange blindness of a lukewarm soul, and that horrible insensibility which is the heaviest of judgments, and the utmost degree of misery. And therefore S. Bernard and S. Bonaventure declare that it is much easier to convert a worldling, though ever so wicked, than a lukewarm religious.

What hope is left for such a soul? There is no remedy for it; it will not be cured, because it is not sensible of its illness: it is a sick creature whose condition is the more desperate because it laughs at those who think it sick; so that there is need of a greater miracle to convert a lukewarm soul than to make the blind to see or to raise the dead to life.

None but Thou my God canst do it, thou art able to cure the most inveterate diseases, but Thou hatest Lukewarmness, and this makes me fear; I cannot pray with that confidence as I would for the most scandalous sinner. I acknowledge that I have been hitherto in a lukewarm state. But since Thou hast made me sensible of it, I am persuaded Thou desirest to draw me out of it. Oh! let not this renewed grace, which perhaps will be that last Thou wilt ever offer me, be ineffectual: Thou wouldst have me to be Saved, I am resolved to be Saved, what then can hinder my Salvation?

Second Point

Consider that a lukewarm state is not only very dangerous, but which is more strange, it is almost impossible to recover a soul out of it, because he that would recover must be sensible of his being in danger, which a tepid soul is not.

A heinous sinner easily knows his danger; there are certain favourable moments where in by the help of grace, he discovers so much deformity in his soul that he presently laments his misery, which knowledge and confession render his conversion much less difficult.

But a lukewarm soul does not believe that he is lukewarm; he hat believes himself tepid ceases to be so, for we are rarely sensible of our condition till we begin to be fervent. This renders the conversion of the lukewarm almost impossible, for which way shall one go about to persuade them that they are in such a state? Blindness is the first effect of tepidity.

Its unfaithfulness being gradual, it is less sensible of them, then its faults grow habitual, and at last it takes pleasures in them: nothing toucheth it when it is in this condition, and is suspects nothing: it is not sensible of any new fault; it grows lukewarm without omitting one of its devotions; 'tis the imperfections of these very devotions that give birth to its tepidity, and help it to deceive itself by covering its real faults with a false appearance of virtue.

God Himself who so loudly alarms the sinner is now silent and will not awake him; but leaves him to die in this mortal lethargy. I will begin, says He, to cast thee out, He does not do it all at once, once He throughs him off by degrees that he may not see it, the unhappy soul is rejected and his reprobation sealed, and he does not perceive it, nor is he in the least sensible of his wretched condition.

And what hope can he have to be cured? How is it possible for him to recover out of this dismal state? The advice of his true friends, the pious counsels of his wise director, and of his zealous Superior, and the best examples, are all ill received. By his insensibility and hardness of heart, he seems to be enchanted, all his actions bear the visible marks of certain reprobation, and that God hath left him.

Saint Bonaventure observes that it is no extraordinary thing to see notorious sinners quit their sins and become truly penitent, but that it is very extraordinary to see a lukewarm soul recover. And to this we may apply the words of S. Paul in that terrible passage at which all those who grow cold after been fervent in the service of God should tremble; it is impossible (that is, extremely difficult) for them who were once enlightened and have tasted of the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the Holy Ghost preferably to many others, and of the sweetness of a spiritual life, and of saving truths, if they fall away, if they grow weary of serving God and return to their sins, it is impossible to renew them again unto repentance.

But my God, what is all this to a lukewarm souls unless by a miracle of mercy Thou art pleased to open his eyes and to make him see his dangers? He does not suspect himself of being fallen away, nor will he suspect it till thou discover it to him by an inward light; and what will it avail him to be convinced of it, unless Thou givest an extraordinary supply of grace to recover him from that wretched state?

Let us now examine if we have no reason to fear. The lukewarm are exceeding curious, they will try all sorts of devotions, and therefore may possibly read this meditation, but let them not deceive themselves, this day of retreat may be profitable if we examine impartially and diligently whether this dangerous tepidity does not influence all our actions, whether the Sacraments are useful to us, and whether we grow daily less imperfect by the exercises of Virtue.

from A Spiritual Retreat for One Day Every Month by Fr. Jean Croiset