“Art thou he that art to come, or do we look for another?”–Matt. 11, 3.

A Person roused from sound slumber whilst darkness still envelops the earth, is unable to say what hour it is of the night. But if his wandering gaze discover through the casement the rosy tinge of early dawn, he knows well that day is at hand. And if the rays of the sun fall upon his couch, and brightness fill the chamber, he pauses not to ask: Art thou the sun, or shall we wait for another? It is day!

Day dawns for the soul when Christ approaches; Holy Writ calls Him “the Sun.” He Himself says that He is “the Light of the World.” Let us consider today this office of Jesus Christ as the Sun and the Light of the world in connection with a threefold night and a threefold day. The threefold night to which I refer is: the night of sin the night of death and the night of the grave. He who changes this night into day is:

Christ, the Sun–on the day of conversion–at the hour of death and on the day of judgment.

When Christ, the Sun, shines and diffuses His light in this threefold night, then the soul that loves Him does not ask: Is it Thou? but she exultingly cries: It is Thou!

Mary, thou Dawn of Morning on the firmament of salvation, pray for us, that the light of day illumine our souls, through Jesus Christ our Lord! I speak in the most holy name of Jesus, to the greater glory of God!

Sin is a state of spiritual night. The sinner lives in darkness, and his deeds are deeds of darkness. But as soon as a true conversion of heart opens the way for Jesus into the benighted soul, the shadows of spiritual darkness vanish, and light diffuses there its glowing splendor. It suddenly becomes day; the soul begins to know herself, to understand the wretchedness of her former existence, and to see what is meant by a change of heart, a permanent one, such as the Lord demands of her.

She can hardly conceive how it was possible that she, a child of the Church, in the midst of a flood of light, could live in such blindness; how it was possible that, having been instructed in the faith from her youth, and having it before her eyes in its eternal greatness, she looked upon it as a thing of no consequence, and esteemed it so little. How is it possible that she lived without fear in so many and so great dangers–yes, even sought temptations and dallied with them–that professing a belief in hell, she continued to live in sin, not concerned, that at any moment, by a sudden death, she might sink into the eternal flames of hell, if God withdrew His merciful hand?

The meaning of the words of Christ: “What does it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his soul,” becomes all at once clear to the repenting sin ner; he sees how vain is all striving and seeking after fortune, honor, and pleasure, with which the children of the world endeavor to satisfy the cravings of their hearts.

The scales fall from his eyes. He determines to follow Christ and to tread the path that leads to salvation. He looks upon his model and hears His assurance: “It is I!” Yea, it is He. It was He alone, the Light of the world, who could awaken and enlighten a soul that had slept and dreamed so many years in the night and darkness of sin.

Jesus, it is Thou! I follow Thee! What man, who after having led the life of a sinner, and become truly converted to God, will not acknowledge the truth of my words?

But now, Christian, put the question to yourself: Are you truly converted? Have you not lived, perhaps for many a long year, in the state of sin? Have you, blinded by the allurements and false light of this world, forgotten heaven for earth, and with the eternal truths of the Gospel ringing in your ears, been solicitous only to enjoy the goods, honors, and pleasures of this life? Happy are you, indeed, if day has already dawned on you! In gratitude for this priceless gift of conversion, walk henceforward as a child of light and practise, with redoubled zeal, the works of grace. Preserve yourself from all dangers of a relapse, for, the night into which you would then sink would be still darker and more baneful, as Christ himself warns you: “The last state shall be worse than the first.” Experience teaches us the truth of these words in regard to relapsing sinners.

The second night which Christ, the resplendent Sun of the world, changes into noon-day, is the sad night of death.

Good reason have we to speak of that night. The dying do not see though their eyes are open; their pupils do not move, even though the light falls upon them. Thus veiled with the darkness of night is also the eye of their mind. They do not know all that the word “dying” implies, nor what follows that dread ordeal; horrible darkness and fearful gloom encompass them.

But how the night changes into day when Christ comes! Even the sinner then sees his soul by an unwonted light. The deeper the shadows of death gather on his mortal eyes, the clearer he recognizes the vanities of the world, the folly of his life, the thoughtlessness and frivolity with which he has wasted the precious hours. He sees now better than ever before the greatness and multitude of his sins. Christ approaches, daylight breaks upon his soul but only to reveal the horror of his state.

How differently does Christ, the Sun, brighten the night of death for the just, whose light He has been upon the path of life. Listen to what is told of the death of a saintly hermit.

As he lay upon his death-bed, surrounded by a number of other hermits who wished to witness his happy release, his face suddenly shone with a strange light, and he said softly: “Behold the choir of Patriarchs comes to meet me.” After a little while he spoke again: “Behold the choir of Prophets comes,” and a still brighter light rested on his countenance. Not long after he said with tremulous joy: “The Apostles of Christ are here, and wish to take me with them.” When he again moved his lips, and they asked him to whom he was speaking, he replied: “The angels are here and invite me to go with them; but I have begged them to leave me a little longer here below that I may do penance.” One of the elder hermits said to him: “Holy father, you need do no more penance.” And lo! the face of the dying man beamed still brighter, and saying exultingly: “Behold, Christ comes!” he gave up his soul unto the Lord at the dawn of eternal day.

Yes, if Christ during our life has been the Sun in whose light we have been walking, then He will also change the night of our death into a day of consolation.

The third night is the night of the grave. A well- known Easter hymn says:

“Short is for me the dismal night,
Until the angel calls: ‘T is light!”

That the stillness of the grave resembles the night, needs no illustration, nor that day everlasting dawns when the trumpet of the angel sounds, and Christ, the Sun, appears as our Judge, and a supernatural light illuminates the book of conscience of angels and of men.

But how different on that day is the effect of that light! “Ye mountains! fall upon us, and ye hills, cover us! “Thus at the left of the judgment-seat of Christ, the all-knowing Judge, the reprobate will cry in shame and despair.

But what happiness will fill the just at His right hand, when their virtues and their victories are revealed to the whole world, and they enter with the children of God into the kingdom of eternal reward, that kingdom, whose day knows no evening, and where Christ, the Sun, shines in everlasting glory! Amen!

by Fr. Francis Xavier Weninger, 1877