The Lazy Boy (1755) by Jean-Baptiste Greuze. Photo: wikipedia.org
My soul, my soul, arise! Why sleepest thou?
Thus the holy Andrew of Crete addresses his own soul. Could negligence towards his own conscience and forgetfulness of the hour of death boldly draw near to him? Did his living soul not keep vigilant watch over its own salvation? And yet he does not think so of himself; and yet he sings that mournful song, “My soul, my soul, arise! Why sleepest thou?” Oh, how persistently must we rouse our own souls, how often must we repeat the song of the saint: “My soul, my soul, arise! Why sleepest thou?”
What do we do for our own salvation? For the glory of the name of God, the holy Apostles and Prophets endured mocking and beatings, they wandered, not knowing where to lay their heads. What did the holy martyrs not endure that they might not destroy their souls by betraying the Lord? Dread penetrates to the bone when we hear of the suffering they endured. To save their souls, the holy ascetics spent their whole lives in fasting and prayer, in labors and voluntary sorrows. My soul, my soul, arise! Why sleepest thou? Where are the labors for your eternal salvation?
Why sleepest thou? But you and I, my soul, do not yet even understand that we are sleeping. We must first be convinced of this. So be it.
The sleeping man understands neither the danger at hand, no matter how great it may be, nor his erratic movements, no matter how strange they may be. In dreams, he sees himself as wealthy, honored, or seated at a sumptuous table. Are we not in the same state, my soul? Do we not appear to ourselves as people of proper station and sound mind, while in truth we are poor and hungry enough to weep? Do we understand what we ought to be and what we are? Do we understand our own condition? Alas, we do not!
The wakeful man keenly feels his needs. Do we have a sense of our spiritual needs? God punishes us for our sins in order to bring us to our senses. Yet nothing moves us. Thou hast stricken them, but they have not grieved (Jer. 5:3). The soul is naturally driven to seek the eternal, yet our joys and sorrows alike are concerned only with earthly things.
The wakeful man diligently fulfills the deeds of his calling. O, my poor soul! To be a Christian is a high calling; and it is not for earth but for Heaven that you were created. Where then are the works of this high calling in your life? People buy and sell, they make merry, they get married, they multiply—and this is the sum of all their activity! Is this a life worthy of the immortal soul, the Christian soul? Or perhaps they go to church, but out of habit; they pray, but without soul; they help the poor, but out of vanity; they have a form of godliness, but deny the power thereof (2 Tim. 3:5); they are Christians in appearance, but pagans in soul.
O, my God! What is all this if not the sleep of the soul—and a deep sleep at that? How long shall we sleep?
My soul, my soul! You are the only soul I have—if I lose you I lose everything. What are you preparing for yourself, and what am I preparing for myself? My soul, my soul! You were created in the image of God, and having fallen, were redeemed by the blood of the Son of God; yet you have surrendered yourself to the pitiful slavery of the passions and wander senselessly upon the earth. What are you doing, and what are you preparing for yourself?
My soul, my soul, arise! Why sleepest thou? Is it time for you to sleep, when there rages within you the ceaseless, day-and-night warfare of the unclean flesh against the higher aspirations of the spirit? Is it time for you to sleep, when even in a wakeful state there are so many dangers, and others have lost their salvation? Why do you drink in sins as water and iniquities as precious wine? Because you are asleep. How terrible, how ruinous is your sleep!
Arise! Why sleepest thou? The end draws nigh. Is it time to sleep when there is an endless eternity before you? Is it time to sleep when hell and the outcast spirits are before you? Is it time to sleep when every hour is so precious for you, when you have no right to spend a single minute on your own whims?
You sleep, my poor soul, while the time of grace and mercy flows on and passes away, never to return. It is no longer the morning of your life—your youth faded long ago. It is no longer midday—your courage has passed. It is now the evening of your days—hoary old age. And still you sleep! You sleep, while the number of your sins and the number of your transgressions grows and multiplies, and the danger for you becomes ever graver. You sleep and do not think that at any moment you may be cast into the abyss of hell. You sleep, content with the grace of God, as though it expects nothing of you, as though it must do everything to indulge your whims while you owe it nothing in return. How do you not see that your sleep is blasphemy against the Lord? How do you not see that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance? (Rom. 2:4). You sleep, but however great God’s patience may be, there is also God’s justice. You sleep while death draws near. It will approach, overtake you, and strike you, and what will become of you?
“And thou shalt be troubled.” Your earthly cares, for which you forgot about God, are no protection from the wrath of God’s offended justice, nor are puerile friends with you whom made merry. Will you seek peace and consolation in the wisdom of worldly unbelief? All sophisms will flee from before the formidable reality of eternity opening before you, to your grief and shame. Then you will know with full force that you will reap only what you have sown—and having sown only for corrupted nature throughout your entire life, for the flesh, you will reap nothing but corruption (Gal. 6:8).
You will know it, and how will that knowledge echo within you? With confusion and despair. “Thou shalt be troubled.” You will also be troubled by your past, which will appear before you with your iniquities and transgressions. You will be troubled by what is coming—that which, so long forgotten and neglected, will stand before you in irresistible reality and terrifying majesty. How can you stand before the majesty of the Judge of the universe? Thou shalt be troubled for this one reason alone, that in your drowsy slumber you never came to know of the fate that awaits you beyond the grave, and encountering that which is unknown to you, you will appear defenseless and helpless, separated from the world for which and by which you lived.
Arouse thyself, awaken, O wretched soul, while there is still time. It is not yet the voice of eternal wrath that thunders over you, but the gentle voice of goodness that rouses you: Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light (Eph. 5:14). Do you hear how the Lord speaks from the Heavenly banquet saying, and yet there is room? (Lk. 14:22). It is a place for you and I, my poor soul. Let us hasten to occupy this space, before it is too late.
Arouse thyself, my poor soul! Rise from the bed of sin. Banish the dreams that seduce you and gather your thoughts that have been scattered by the vanity of the world. Come to your senses. How long Heavenly goodness has awaited your awakening! How long the Lord Jesus has awaited your repentance! This is why He came to earth—to call sinners to repentance. He has prepared everything for the salvation of sinners. Here is the Gospel to enlighten your thoughts on all the paths of life. Here are the Sacraments for the healing of your diseases and the reviving of your enfeebled heart. Arouse thyself. Take courage in hope upon your merciful Savior. Do many sins weigh upon your conscience, many debts hang upon your neck? Before you stands the Cross upon which the Son of God was crucified for the sins of the whole world. Before you stand thousands of pardoned sinners. Your Lord, your Savior, is always the same, for all times and all people. He is the atoning sacrifice.
Arouse thyself. Gather your strength, begin a new life, and resolve to serve the true and living God, just as you have served the idols of your heart. You have no strength, your infirmities are too great! Do not deceive yourself. How much toil you endure for the world, for the flesh, for sin! Labor half as much for the Lord, and you will see that you are not altogether without strength.
Arouse thyself. Whoever sincerely recognizes himself as weak will pray for the help of grace, and Heavenly help will be sent to him. Pray, then, likewise. The forces of grace are ready for you; through prayer you will receive all things. To whom has the Heavenly Father ever refused His help? Whom has the Son—Who is eternal love—ever failed to aid? If you, being so unkind, do not give your children a stone instead of bread or a serpent instead of a fish, how much more will the Heavenly Father give all that is needful to those who ask Him—so the Lord Jesus tells us. And He likewise says: Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in My name, He will give it you (Jn. 16:23).
“Arouse thyself, then, that Christ God may spare thee, Who is everywhere present, and fillest all things.” However deeply we may have fallen, however firmly the enchantment of sinful slumber may have benumbed the powers of our soul, there is no barrier for the Infinite One. The life-giving power of Christ penetrates everywhere, for every soul there is forgiveness and mercy—Christ the Lord. Let us therefore glorify our Lord with a wakeful soul.
Glory and thanksgiving to Thee, O eternal love. Amen.
