In order to convince ourselves of the immense merit of a life formed upon that of our Lord at Nazareth, it would appear sufficient to call to mind what the Gospel relates as having taken place when He was baptized by Saint John. "And behold a voice from Heaven, saying: This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." (Matthew 3:17)
Now, it will be remembered that, when the Eternal Father thus publicly manifested His complacency in His Divine Son, Jesus had as yet wrought no miracle. He had not yet begun to preach, or to go about Judea and elsewhere, doing good. He had but toiled in the workshop of Saint Joseph, as the carpenter of Nazareth, and had led the common life incidental to that humble condition.
But a hidden life is, for all, essentially the life of the heart, and it is because it is the life of the Heart of Jesus that we in a special manner study it during the years He passed at Nazareth. This renders that portion of His earthly career so peculiarly useful for us all, but it does so in a remarkable degree for those who, not being called to the performance of great actions, or to a visible apostolate, must necessarily effect their share of work for the glory of God, in a hidden manner.
We have learnt, then, in the school of Nazareth, that the efficacy of our lives for promoting the glory of God and His interests consists not in the performance of marvellous works, but in the purity of our intention, in the ardour of our love, and in the similarity of our desires to those of the Heart of Jesus. This is that desire of the poor which God will hear so favourably - this is that preparation of hearty which He will accept as so grateful to Him.
Consider how rich a fund of consolation is contained in remembering the merit before God of a hidden life - consolation, especially for those apostolic hearts who thirst to labour for God, but who are precluded from doing so by other than secret means.
We have seen how large a share subjection had in the life our Blessed Lord spent at Nazareth, not only as prompting and directing His obedience in externals, but as the subjection of His interior feelings - that human element which dwelt in Him as the consequence of the nature He had assumed. Now, it is this which forms the principal merit of a hidden life, whether it is led in the midst of the world, or withdrawn from it in a state involving the additional restraints of holy Religion.
When persons in the world hear of the fall of any member of a Religious Order, or the loss of a vocation, one of those scandals which our Lord said "must needs come," (Matthew 18:7), they almost invariably ascribe it to exaggerated austerity of life, or to undue seclusion, or some exterior cause. But if this evil were traced to its origin, it would most frequently be found that the evil began through the pride of the human spirit rising up in revolt against that subjection of the will and judgment, which ever is, and ever will be, so difficult to nature, and consequently so meritorious; and it is chiefly in this subjection that consists the superior merit of the religious state to the merit of any other kind of life. Every state, however, is, as has been seen, capable of participating in the merit of a hidden life, inasmuch as it regards the life of the heart, the inner life.
This has been fully manifested in the course of the preceding meditations; and it remains for us but to consider one or two instances, if we would render the application more close and fruitful to ourselves.
We have seen to what an extent interior renunciation is necessary in order to lead a life really hidden in God, after the example of Jesus of Nazareth; how constantly that pride must be wrestled with, which ever seeks its own glory, ever craves for honour and distinction; how egotism must be crushed, thirsting, incessantly as it does, after notice, favour, and praise from others, and always nervously afraid of neglect or oblivion.
There are, moreover, other fertile sources of merit, such as, for example, secret and unsuspected sufferings, whether of mind or body. The whole world may, perhaps, be cognizant of some great sorrow laid upon us; but how often are there in it aggravating circumstances which, like hidden thorns, are ever piercing our wounded hearts, although no one who knows us even suspects it. These are the secret nails of the Cross, causing an anguish known only to Jesus, and they are the most meritorious part of our sufferings.
Again, how many are there who, conceiving the desire of an apostolic or religious life, are precluded nevertheless from realizing their aspirations. Is their life, on that account, rendered unavailable for the great end they have in view? Certainly not. Their desires are indeed destined never to be realized by the particular form of success they aimed at; but, if they know how to sanctify their disappointed hopes by uniting them to the interior sufferings of the Sacred Heart, and by offering their life of disappointment to promote the same interests as those for which they had desired to work by exterior and visible means, they will infallibly attain the true goal. Their lives will be as efficacious for the cause they had at heart as if they had accomplished in deed as well as in desire all they had hoped for. They will be masters of the hidden life, secret victims of the Heart of Jesus, and true apostles, unknown indeed upon earth, but for whom, perhaps, a martyr's crown is prepared in Heaven.
Lastly, when we reflect on the merit of a hidden life, let us not be selfish in our calculations. Let us desire to merit, not for ourselves alone, but above all for the interests of God's glory, for His Church, for souls. We shall have no cause to regret such unselfishness at the hour of death. "Be solicitous for My interests," said our Lord to Saint Teresa, "and I will take care of thine."
- text taken from the 1906 edition of The Heart of Jesus of Nazareth - Meditations on the Hidden Life; it has the Imprimatur if Bishop John Baptist Butt, Diocese of Southwark, England, 5 February 1890