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The Beginnings of Mariastern in Turkish Bosnia

By the summer of the following year, 1868, the small band of Trappists at Agram was tired of living like restless wanderers. Fr. Francis made a last and desperate attempt to gain a foothold and the much desired stability near Banjaluka (Luke’s Bath) in Bosnia. There was reason to hope for success though negotiations were tedious and he needed all the diplomacy and caution he could muster.

Abbot Francis:

“In order not to draw undue attention from Turkish officials I covered my habit with a trench coat which reached down to my ankles … There was not a single hotel available in Banjaluka. The only room I could find was one which an old German Jew put at my disposal. I was eager to accept but the ceiling leaked so much that without an umbrella I would have got soaked. In the end, I had to avail myself of the hospitality of the Austrian vice consul.”

Endless maneuvers and the mediation of kind people, among them the Croatian consul, a Greek businessman and an interpreter, enabled the would-be founder on 10 June 1869 to sign a contract of purchase for property outside town at 1,400 ducats. He could pay, thanks to Br. Zacharias’ successful promotion and learned to find his way in a country under Turkish rule.

Abbot Francis:

“The government did not employ surveyors; instead, natural landmarks such as brooks, ditches, rivers, dirt roads, peculiar trees and huge stones served as boundaries. Our property was about 700 to 800 ac (48 40 sq. yd.). Thus with the stroke of a pen, I became a notable landowner in the Ottoman Empire.”

The property Fr. Francis had acquired overlooked the Vrbas River. It proved to be rich in stone, silica, timber and firewood, while the Vrbas and the smaller Raskovac River had water enough to generate power for the trade shops he planned to build. Except for a few tenants, no one lived in Delibasino selo, the local name for the place. Fr. Francis described it in an article he sent to the “Vorarlberger Volksblatt”. (gazette) within days of their arrival:

1869: Fr. Francis Pfanner on horseback in front of the temporary shelter, the cradle of Mariastern near Banjaluka in Bosnia

“For the time being we live in a stable which belongs to one of our tenants. We plan to build a temporary monastery to enable us to observe our rule, but it cannot be done in a hurry.”

Forty years later he remembered:

“After a tough two-year struggle a stable was all I had to offer my Brothers. We moved in on 21 June 1869 and were finally able to lay our weary heads on ground we could call our own. There wasn’t much else, for there was no straw to be found anywhere. So with our pen knives we cut bracken, dried it in the sun and spread it on the bare ground as mattresses … We did not need windows, because even while the door, hewn of warped raw timbers and barely held together with wooden nails, was closed, abundant light came in through cracks and crevices … The floor consisted of hard, tamped clay. Rafters and shingles were partly burnt and black with soot, because during the winter the place served as a hideout where the tenant brewed the forbidden slivovitz (prune brandy). Tables, chairs, cupboards and armchairs were non-existent. We hung our coats and cowls on hooks or projections in the wall and kept smaller items, such as books, breviaries, ink, chalice, missal, candles and cruets inside or on top of covered corn vats. The builder had dispensed with a chimney, fearing that the smoke would get blown back in through the cracks. The stable served us as an all-purpose room where we took meals and spent our days and nights … A tree gave us welcome shade for saying our Office, while a 5 x 3’ hut, leaning against an ancient oak tree in the thick wood, served us as a chapel in which to celebrate Mass.”13

A letter Fr. Francis wrote on 23 June 1869 to the Cistercian Nuns of Marienstern in Saxony (Germany) had as sender an almost identical name: “Mariastern in Bosnia”. The choice of name was a token of appreciation to the nuns for the generous contribution of two thousand guilders they had made towards the new foundation.

Mariastern became known in no time. After only two years, letters addressed to “Mariastern in Turkey” or “Fr. Franz14 in Turkey” unfailingly reached their destination. As a capable leader Fr. Franz made sure that despite the more than primitive circumstances the rule was observed in its strictness. Contacts outside Bosnia were through the Austrian consulate; it kept open the much needed lifeline to donors and benefactors. After a very few weeks Mariastern received its first postulants: one from Baden in Germany, the other from Vorarlberg.

Not all the pioneers had what it took to face the challenges of a new foundation. An extreme climate with frost, snow and icy cold winds in winter and blistering heat in summer took its toll. Three Brothers fell ill during the first year: one with pleurisy, another with meningitis and a third with malaria. Thus from sheer necessity Fr. Franz turned “doctor”, relying on natural medicine and home cures. Soon he found himself treating not only his Brothers but also the sick, including sick animals, people brought to the monastery.

From Shed to Monastery

In the middle of the nineteenth century Bosnia-Herzegovina and the rest of the Balkans along with Greece and Bulgaria belonged to the Ottoman Empire governed by the Turkish Crescent. Bosnia was a Turkish province of mixed population: ca. 300,000 Muslims, 360,000 Orthodox Christians, 122,000 Catholics (mainly Croatians), 5,000 Jews and 9,000 Romani. Banjaluka was the residence of a mutasarrif, the equivalent of a district officer. He was anything but obliging. But Fr. Francis was not bullied. Differences and disputes could not deter him from building Mariastern on a solid foundation:

“We desperately needed a shelter against the approaching winter … But it did not take our Turkish neighbours or the civic authorities long before they suspected that since we had no wives we must be Christian dervishes.”

Budding Mariastern did not only have to contend with scarce living space, unfavourable weather and Turkish hostilities, but also and more importantly, with differences in outlook among its own members. While Fr. Franz was ready to dispense from one or the other rule on account of the circumstances, two of his priests insisted on the literal observance of the rule. To humour them, he almost immediately began with the construction of a temporary monastery by hiring an Austrian contractor who had been recommended to him by the consul. That building was ready in September 1869.

Fr. Francis:

“Our little monastery stands on the edge of the oak wood but still on forest floor. It has one door opening towards the river and another, towards our future stables. A staircase leads from a central passage to the attic. The floors at ground-level are of packed clay but the attic has a wooden floor. The boards are not sawn but hewn from oak trees and made to lie flat by huge iron nails. The roof is something else. The local custom is to save shingles by placing them, not in double rows but singly. The attic is our dormitory. Though it is not high enough in the center for a man to stand upright, it offers room for many postulants. Lying flat on your back on a clear night you can see the stars twinkling through the chinks between the shingles. However, if by bad luck snow blows across the roof, our brown beards and bed covers turn white in no time. When we rise for choir at one or two in the morning, icicles fall off our beards. They melt only in the warm chapel.”

This description speaks volumes! The monks at Mariawald and Oelenberg could not have lived more primitively than their confreres at Mariastern. But it was precisely this stark simplicity which gained them candidates. On 7 September 1869, Eduard Biegner entered. He had travelled from Vienna to Hungary by a Danube steamer and then down the river Sava to Alt-Gradiska in Croatia. Unannounced, he stood at the door of the little monastery by the river and asked to be admitted as a Trappist.15

A Novice in a Monastery

By Francis Wendelin Pfanner

I am cheerful and content, because body and soul are in the right place.

I would not leave the monastery for anything in the world; here alone I wish to live and die.

To have nothing in this world, not even a shirt or a quill pen to write with, means something, if one renounces these things for the love of Jesus. Formerly, I had enough of everything but not the peace of mind I enjoy now.

Our monastery still needs furnishing. Because we have neither desks nor tables we write kneeling on the floor.

The Bosnian winter of 1869/​1870 was particularly severe. The monks installed an iron stove in the passage of their temporary monastery, but the smoke of the half green firewood, relentlessly curling its way to all the rooms including the chapel, drove them into the fresh air as soon as they got up.

Fr. Francis:

“Early one morning we headed for the woods to dig out stubs for no other reason than to warm up. We picked up our iron cramps and picks which leaned against the wall under the roof and started out. I don’t know what I was thinking when I grabbed mine and began to work with it. But I soon found out, because my fingers started knocking against the shaft. Completely numb, they were in no time as hard as iron. I ran to dip them in cold water. Feeling returned but the skin came off. I could not say Mass for several days.”

Until they were able to install an oven, the Mariastern pioneers had their maize bread baked by one of the tenant women. Gradually, stables for horses and cows were completed as were several trade shops. Fr. Franz appointed one of the priests as master of novices and a Brother, as general manager. Much of his own time was taken up with writing letters to friends and benefactors, while Br. Zacharias continued to campaign for support and vocations. Particularly generous donors were “named in the register of benefactors” and promised “a share in all our prayers and works of penance”. According to Trappist custom, two Masses were said for benefactors every Friday and Sunday.

Exciting Events

The new monastery for which Fr. Francis and Br. Zacharias had been sent from Mariawald had become a reality. But what was Mariastern’s status in the Order? As could be expected, Abbot Ephrem, who had been defeated in Rome, was more than reluctant to officially admit it to the Order. As vicar general of his Congregation16 he wielded his power to the effect that no admission was granted. This was a bitter pill for the pioneers but nothing could stop them from plodding on, not even the fact that all the reports Fr. Francis sent to his abbot remained unanswered. So they quietly continued turning scrub into farmland, cultivating the ground and building roads. Fr. Francis who was used to hard physical labour from youth led his monks in all activities and expected them to follow his example. Besides, he had taught himself enough of the Croatian language to attend to the people, mainly Catholics, who brought their needs to the “holy men in the woods”. One of the letters he wrote to Oelenberg describes in broad terms what life was like at Mariastern in 1869:

“At its furthest end our property borders on a huge forest where wolves have their dens. Fortunately, we do not need to fear them or other dangers. We are a community of nine, including five choir monks, but that number will soon go up to seven! Unfortunately, we had to send away two men for health reasons, i.e., chronic diseases. One was a much needed blacksmith and the other, a tailor. The only way we can get in touch with the outside world is by means of a draw bridge we have thrown across the Vrbas. Bosnia can be reached by train and/​or steamer. We have no problem meeting visitors at the border because our mail coach does the eight-hour trip twice a week on a regular basis.”

The Trappist Abbey of Mariastern in Bosnia which Francis Pfanner founded in 1869

This was an open invitation to Abbot Ephrem to come and see the new foundation for himself. But he remained adamant in his refusal, maintaining that Fr. Francis had “acted without authorization”. Who could change his mind? Apparently, nobody! Fr. Francis, though he had no obligation towards him after he had been vindicated and given a fresh mandate by Rome, did everything to humour him. When next he had business at the Vatican and went to stay once again at the Trappist procure, Abbot Regis whispered to him at the door: “Your countryman is inside.” Abbot Ephrem! Without a moment’s hesitation Fr. Francis went to see him. Ephrem however simply looked at him from his armchair but did not make a move to welcome him. So what was he to do? Trappist custom bade him prostrate, and he did so.

Abbot Francis:

“I remained in my prostrate position for I don’t know how long. Only when after a considerable time I had not yet been asked to rise, I decided to get up on my own and quietly left the room.”

Until his death, Ephrem did not melt towards Francis or, for that matter, towards the monks of Mariastern or the other monasteries Fr. Francis was still to found. Neither did he inform Oelenberg that he had been defeated in Rome. On the contrary, he left his monks free to circulate the rumour that Francis was “a renegade” who acted from disobedience.

As Bosnia was considered ‘mission territory’, the monastery, too, was recorded as a missionary institute and as such came under the jurisdiction, not of the Congregation for Bishops, Priests and Religious, but Propaganda Fide. It was precisely this status which was resented by the Franciscans who had enjoyed uncontested pastoral privileges in Bosnia for four hundred years. Very soon, Fr. Francis found himself at odds with them and their bishop. However, their fear was totally unfounded, because Trappists do not usually become pastorally active except in emergencies.

Problems arose also with Turkish officials over Mariastern’s building activities. At one point, positions became so hardened that Fr. Franz had to actually resort to the supreme authority in Constantinople.

Meanwhile, the monastery experienced an explosive growth. Br. Bruno, confectioner in Austria before he entered, was appointed farm manager. His job included the care of Mariastern’s cows to which Fr. Francis had recently added four pedigree animals of the ‘Muerztal breed’. But who could milk them? Since the manager had never milked a cow, Fr. Francis taught him without further ado. Other responsibilities were distributed: Fr. Gallus was appointed coachman, Br. Fridolin, cook and Br. Jacob, smith. Whatever a man’s occupation, he lend a hand with buildings and roads, while an Italian contractor supervised the kiln and Croatian masons laid the bricks.

Endless Quarrels

Not that everything went smoothly. There were differences of opinion among the monks. Two priests complained that the projected quadrangle of the future monastery was too big for poor, simple Trappists. Fr. Francis gave in and changed the plans he had drawn up. On the whole, however, the monks were united. Things became critical only when some escaped overnight, an incident we return to a little later.

What really taxed Fr. Franz’s patience were the marauding gypsies who had been set up against the Trappists by a neighbouring Turkish landowner. Only after many negotiations and God’s felt protection at the intercession of good Saint Joseph – to whom, incidentally, Francis Wendelin Pfanner had a lifelong devotion – he was able to reach a settlement with them. It was one of the many occasions which could have robbed him of all courage and confidence. But he stood his ground even when Turkish officials tried to put a stop to the new monastery by citing the Koran to him.

Abbot Francis:

“We had hired day labourers at twenty-one Turkish groschen (pennies) a square meter to help us lay a solid foundation. Sand, though not terribly clean, was taken from a level patch of ground by the Vrbas and bricks were burnt at the brickyard in Krcevina. Firing the bricks required a large amount of firewood and a road for transport. Bricks were made and stones quarried by hired labour who also loaded the carts which were drawn by two gray Styr horses. These huge beasts easily made the trip to and fro between the kiln and the quarry a hundred times and more. Limestone was a problem. Since we did not have the right quality of lime we had to buy it from neighbouring peasants. All building timbers and boards were sewn at the mills by the river Sava on the other side of Old Gradiska six hours distant and then rafted across the Vrbas. Everything worked out alright until one day the Pasha showed up at the building site, accompanied by a whole squad of sabered officials. ‘What are you up to?!’ he shouted. ‘You are building a fortress! I say: Stop it’!”

Each time Fr. Francis demanded to see the regulations black on white and then usually ignored them. He knew fully well, for example, that by Turkish law Christians were allowed to build “only with wood and clay”. But what options did such laws leave him? Mollify the shouting Pasha with bakshish? The Pasha would have liked that and probably turned a blind eye to the building. However, the Vorarlberger would not stoop that low. “With a few hundred ducats I could have swayed the Pasha, but bribery was out of the question. I never learned that trade.”

Like two bulls interlocking horns neither the Turk nor the Vorarlberger was ready to budge an inch. However, the time came when Fr. Francis had enough of intrigues and wrangling. He threatened the Pasha that he would appeal to the sultan in Constantinople. His words came to the ears of the Austrian consul who did all in his power to restore peace between the loggerheads without, however achieving anything. Instead, Fr. Francis sent Br. Zacharias to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Vienna to obtain an introductory letter for him to the Sublime Porte. Armed with this letter he travelled to Istanbul to present it to the Grand Vizier in person. The journey was all but safe. Was the Pasha not known to use any means available, such as hiring highwaymen to eliminate an opponent? Fr. Franz was warned. Under cover of dark he had himself rowed across the Vrbas. On the opposite bank a horse carriage was waiting for him of the kind people used for transporting prune plums in huge vats. On this occasion one of these vats was conveniently left empty. No sooner had he let himself down in it, the driver covered it and immediately gave the horses the spurs. Eight hours to the border – plenty of time for the adventurer monk to pray for protection and the success of his mission!

In Istanbul the Franciscans – “Italians, all of them” – generously accommodated him. Was he ever happy now to have learned their language twenty years earlier in Padua! Baron von Osten-Prokesch, the Austrian ambassador to the Sublime Porte, to whom he reported the very next day, promised him assistance. He appointed an attaché to accompany him not only to the imperial palace but also to the residences of the Sultan’s officials. Fr. Francis armed himself with a lot of patience for not only in Rome but also here in Istanbul the clocks ticked differently. He waited for three months until the Sultan finally stooped to attend to his request by issuing him with an edict that authorized him to build “a private home with sixty rooms”.

Abbot Francis:

“I was promised the document but it took another week before it was actually issued, signed and sealed. The dragoman (ambassador’s interpreter) was a very fine man. Not only did he insist on sending for my ticket but he also paid for it from his own pocket. – I do not have words to describe the joy and satisfaction I felt when Constantinople lay again behind me. If I had won the California gold mines I could not have been happier.”

Challenges no End

Armed with the all-important decree, Fr. Franz returned to Mariastern to face the Pasha with more bargaining power. Construction had continued but so had the Pasha’s interferences. Fr. Franz faced him unafraid.

Abbot Francis:

“The first thing to be completed was the stone wall followed by the brickwork. Thank God, fall blessed us with favourable weather … Since we could only buy building timbers, rafters and boards at Krain, we had to transport them as far as Alt-Gradiska (both in today’s Slovenia) and from there in a ten-hour haul to Mariastern. The labor was one thing, the rivers, another. We had to negotiate two, including our wild Vrbas which had as yet no bridge. Crossing it without the aid of a single machine proved a feat of “engineering”! It showed how resourceful, no: brilliant my monks were! They first offloaded the timber and iron; then they dismantled the waggon, carried its parts and everything else through the water, reassembled the waggon on the opposite bank and, having reloaded it, drove it to the building site … In this way we carted all the materials we needed, including nails, because nothing was available in the godforsaken Banjaluka. The only building materials we could produce ourselves without the use of special equipment, were limestone and bricks.”

On 12 September 1870, sorely tried Fr. Franz wrote to his friend and benefactor, Bishop Fessler of St. Poelten. The authorities in Constantinople had not only been delighted about Mariastern’s plan to open an orphanage, but they had actually asked him to establish a school as well.

“In Constantinople I saw a rare sight: different religious communities – Jesuits, Lazarists, Benedictines, Dominicans, Reformed Franciscans, Franciscan Conventuals, Capuchins, Daughters of Lyon and Sisters of Mercy – living peacefully side by side and undisturbed by Turks, Greeks or Armenians … The Lord is good to us. Though the jug of oil and the jar of flour have been empty several times already, they have always been filled again. The building eats up what meagre funds we have; still, we make progress. Forty brick makers and twenty bricklayers, eighty labourers in all, demand a good chunk of bread every day. Thank God, so far we have been able to provide them … We are a community of twelve, including seven novices. All are Germanspeaking. – A railway is under construction at a short distance from our monastery. It begins at the Austrian border and, cutting across Bosnia, continues all the way to Constantinople. We could not be in a better position than we are. Incidentally, the Bosnian name for Mariastern is Marija Zvijezda.”

We return now to the incident we mentioned before. It was something that happened towards the end of 1870 and grievously disappointed Fr. Franz. Just before Christmas his Brothers abandoned him. They left Mariastern to seek their luck elsewhere. Only the novices stayed. The ringleaders of the deserters were two priests who convinced the others to follow them. Biegner who was only a postulant at the time, also packed to leave. He told Fr. Franz that he was disillusioned: “Reverend Father, since you are leaving, I have no choice but to go as well.” – Leave? His superior was utterly taken aback. The conspiracy had been carefully hidden from him. “Leave!” he exclaimed. “I will not leave. But if you wish to go, do so by all means. I am not keeping you.” Then musing as if to himself, he added: “Now it will be seen whether God wants Mariastern or not.”

Biegner stayed and, to anticipate our story a little, the others returned, but not before the worst was over. That year the weather played crazy. First, the Vrbas flooded the lower pastures and then it snowed nonstop. Temperatures dropped to –18 °C. It was so cold that the wolves left their dens and prowled around the neighbourhood, sniffing for food at the shelters where the hired hands lived. No one and nothing moved. Correspondence with Mariawald and Oelenberg was at an all-time low. As if these were not trials enough, on 17 January 1871 the cook died after professing his simple vows. “Br. Fridolin died a holy death,” Fr. Francis drily wrote in the monastery chronicle.

Decades later, Fr. Joseph Biegner wrote a Pro Memoriam for Br. Fridolin. “He was our first novice and a devout monk. Though a trained mason, he was made to cook. Cooking in those days was not a big thing. Our diet was more than frugal, consisting of maize porridge three times a day and, if we were lucky, a thin soup at noon with a few stray beans floating on top. We ate with wooden spoons and were happy and content. We followed the good example our Prior17 gave us, in the belief that the life we lived was normal for Trappists. We had chosen it freely. – Br. Fridolin earned heaven as a cook. In those years many of us caught malaria and I had to be ‘physician-cum-nurse’. When Fridolin was laid to rest I also was the one to climb down in his grave to pull his hood over his face – the first Trappist for whom I did this favour. In my eyes, but not only mine, Fridolin was a saint, even a martyr, on account of all the smoke which he inhaled in our primitive kitchen.”

Letter-Writer – Beggar – Health Practitioner

Despite setbacks such as the defection of his monks life at Mariastern continued. Abandoned, snowbound and completely cut off from the outside world, Fr. Franz decided to use the enforced leisure of the long dark winter months to make Mariastern known. Making himself a beggar, he wrote to friends and relatives and also composed interesting articles for newspapers and weeklies. Some of his writings found entry into a school reader; others were bound in book form and printed under the title “Letters from the Vrbas”. Today, these form part of Bosnia’s 19th century cultural heritage.

The idea of “mission” weaves like a red thread through the Prior’s writings. His description of the first public Corpus Christi procession at Mariastern in 1871 is an example. The procession was followed by eight hours of Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, for the explicit purpose of calling down God’s blessings on Bosnia and its citizens. When word reached Banjaluka that “the foreigners at the monastery” had actually asked their God to send favourable weather to the whole of the country the Pasha was for once favourably impressed.

Fr. Franz was never idle. Besides writing to promote Mariastern he improved his knowledge of home remedies and natural medicine. He admired people who cured infirmities with simple means. Learning from them he became known for his own expertise. People who suffered from all kinds of diseases and infirmities flocked to Mariastern to consult him.

Abbot Francis:

“It is said that Trappists eat the most unbalanced diet. But this is not true! Most People in Bosnia do not eat half as well as we do. Their staple food is unleavened maize bread. As a result their bellies become distended and they are left with little or no energy. Children and youngsters of fourteen are pale, potbellied and apathetic. Horrified at these symptoms, I decided to help them to improve their eating habits.”

The “doctor of Mariastern”, although dispensing only natural remedies, cured hundreds of patients, especially those who suffered from worms and malaria. In an effort to stop the clandestine brewing of the popular prune brandy (slivovitz) he sometimes purchased a whole wagonload of plums and dried them. People admired the Trappists for their versatility, inventiveness and diligence. But when they saw the Prior working with his own hands they objected: “Effendi (sir), you work? A big lord living in a mansion like you must not work!”

A Digression:

Death and Burial of a Trappist

When a Trappist is about to die, someone knocks with a wooden hammer on a hollow board. As soon as this sound is heard the monks hurry from everywhere to the dying man’s cell to pray for him. If he wants to say farewell, make a request or exhort them in some way he is given permission to do so. Then it is seen how the Brothers love each other, even though they may not have said a word to one another for twenty years or more. Good-byes on the threshold of eternity are deeply moving. They give eloquent proof of the truth that brotherhood and love do not reside in the tongue!

When death has occurred, the deceased is dressed in his habit, wooden shoes are put on his feet and his body is laid on a board, with his head raised on a straw pillow. While this is done the community chants the Miserere (Psalm 50), the Our Father and various other psalms a hundred times over. Then the “coffin” is brought in front of the altar and the Mass for the Deceased is celebrated for the repose of the dead Brother’s soul. Afterwards, it is taken to the cemetery and lowered into a grave. A Brother goes down after it, pulls the hood over the dead one’s face, crosses his arms, incenses his body a last time and finally pours the burning coals from the censer alongside his board. When that is done, the body is covered with soil, starting at the foot end. The community returns to the church, and, prostrating before the Blessed Sacrament, prays the 7 Penitential Psalms. Each monk says a Psalter (150) of the Miserere and each priest celebrates three Holy Masses for the deceased Brother.

Francis Pfanner, “Letters from the Vrbas”. 1871 – 1874.

Seeing or, more often, hearing the monks pray shortly after midnight or at the most unearthly hour of the day was something that took their breath away: Why on earth should anyone get up so early? Had piety gone to their heads? And why did they never speak? Why did they live such a primitive life when they could afford a better one? It was all too much for them. But some reflected and came to the conclusion that it must be the love of God and fellow men that drove the Trappists to live as they did. It explained why they were moderate, simple, ascetic and, yes, celibate. Gradually, their outlook changed. The silent witness of the Trappists was not in vein. It had a profound missionary dimension and was bound to bear fruit for the good of Muslim-Orthodox Bosnia and beyond.

Serious and Funny

By Francis Pfanner OCR

What matters is common sense. Without it, diligent study and a sharp mind are of little avail.

When the devil gets his toe stepped on, he utters the selfsame groan, no matter where.

I was such a hothead when I was young that if I had had to create the world, I would have done it in one day rather than six. Thus I would have come to blows even with the Good Lord himself.

If nothing else can spur us on to work more diligently for the salvation of souls, then let us at least be ashamed at the zeal Satan displays! The idlers of this world are his followers. While we rock ourselves in our hammocks with not a care in the world, he holds the key to the powder magazine and is lying in wait to blow us up when his hour comes.