Satisfying the Complaint of Those Who Are Dry and Disconsolate at Meditation

IN the first place, I do not say that a man should not feel glad when God visits him, for it is clear that one cannot but feel gladness at the presence of one’s Beloved; nor do I say that one should not feel His absence, when He chastises with aridities and temptations, because I see well that one cannot help feeling what Christ our Redeemer felt, being forsaken by His eternal Father, when on the Cross He cried: My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? (Matt. xxvii. 46). But what I desire is that we should know how to profit by this affliction and trial wherewith God is often wont to prove His elect—that we should meet it with fortitude, and say: Not as I will, but as thou (Matt. xxvi. 39). Holiness and perfection do not consist in these consolations, nor in a high and exalted habit of prayer, nor are such things the measure of our advancement. Our advancement consists in true love of God, in union and entire conformity with the will of God, for bitter and for sweet, for adversity as for prosperity. We ought to take from the hand of God the cross of dereliction as we take the delight of consolation, giving thanks for both the one and the other. “If Thou wouldest have me in darkness, blessed be Thou; and if Thou wouldest have me in light, blessed be Thou; if Thou wishest to console me, blessed be Thou; and if Thou wishest to have me in trouble, blessed be Thou” (A Kempis, iii. 17). So St. Paul: In all things return thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you all (I Thess. v. 18). If it is the will of God, what more have we to desire? What is there more in life than to please God? If He is conducting my life by this dark and rugged path, I have no mind to yearn after another way, bright and pleasant though it be. God wishes my neighbor to go by that road which I see and have a liking for, and me by this desert, void of all consolation; I would not exchange my barrenness for his fertility. So they Say who have eyes opened to reality, and with this they console themselves. Father Master Avila says well: “Oh, if the Lord would open our eyes, how we should see clearer than the light of the sun, that all things in heaven and earth are too mean, too unworthy, for us to desire or delight in apart from the will of God; and there is nothing, however small and bitter it be, that has not its value when joined to that will. It is incomparably better to be in anguishes, desolations, aridities, and temptations, if He would have it so, than to enjoy any amount of sweetnesses, consolations, and contemplations away from His will.”

But someone will say: “If I knew that this was God’s will and that He was pleased and satisfied therewith, I should easily fall in with it and be satisfied to pass my whole life in this condition, but it seems to me that God wants me to make my meditation better and with more recollection and attention; and this is what gives me pain, that it is through my own fault and negligence and my not doing my part that I am so dry and cannot get at the meditation. If only I understood and were satisfied that I was doing all that rested with me, and that there was no fault on my part, I should not be in pain at all.” This complaint is well drawn up; there is nothing more to be said; it sums up all the reasons that can be urged on behalf of those who make the like complaints. Therefore if we can meet this well we shall have made a good thing of it, seeing that it is such a common complaint and that there is no one, however holy and perfect he may be, who does not suffer at times from these aridities and spiritual desolations.

So we read of the blessed St. Francis and of St. Catherine of Siena, for all their being such cherished favorites of God. St. Anthony Abbot enjoyed such a high prayer that nights seemed to him but a passing breath of time and he complained of the sun’s rising so early. Yet at times he was so fatigued and overwhelmed with evil and importunate thoughts that he cried out to God: “Lord, I would fain be good, and my thoughts will not let me!” St. Bernard made the same complaint and cried: “My heart is withered, it is clotted like milk, parched like earth without water; it is so hard that it cannot be moved to tears; psalmody is tasteless, I have no mind to read, I have no delight in prayer, and find not my customary meditations. Where is that inebriation of spirit? Where that serenity of mind, and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost?” Thus this doctrine I am delivering is necessary for all, and I trust in the Lord that I shall be able to satisfy all.

To begin, then, I grant that it is all your fault—your distractions and your dryness and your inability to pray. It is well that you should understand and say that for your past sins and present negligences the Lord is minded to chastise you, by giving you no access to meditation, leaving you unable to keep recollected or quiet or attentive, you not deserving otherwise. Still, it does not follow that you have ground of complaint, but only of great conformity to the will of God. Would you see this clearly? Out of your own mouth and from what you yourself have said, I am minded to judge. Out of thine own mouth I judge thee (Luke xviii. 23).

Q. Do you not know and say that for your past sins and your present faults and negligences you deserve great chastisement of God?

R. Yes, for sure; I have many times deserved hell, and so no chastisement will be too great for me, but all will be mercy and indulgence in comparison with what I deserve. And if God shall wish to send me some chastisement in this life, I will take that for a particular benefit, holding it for an assurance that God has pardoned my sins and that He does not mean to chastise me in the next life, seeing that He chastises me in this.

Q. Enough, no more is needed; I am content with that. But that it be not all words, let us come to deeds. This is the chastisement that God wishes you to suffer now for your sins—these fits of desolation, these distractions and aridities, this spiritual dereliction, this turning of your heaven into bronze and your earth into brass, this device of God’s shutting Himself off and hiding Himself from you and giving you no access to meditation. Hereby God means to chastise you now and purge away your faults. Do you not think that your past sins and your present pieces of carelessness and negligence well deserve this chastisement?

R. Yes, for sure; and this is very little compared with what I deserve, and is full of justice and mercy. Of justice, because I have so often shut the gate of my heart to God and have turned a deaf ear when He rapped at my door with His holy inspirations; and as I have resisted them many times, it is just now that, though I cry out, He turns a deaf ear and answers me not and will not open the door to me, but slams it in my face. This is a most just punishment, but very little for what I deserve. Again it is full of mercy because I deserve much more than I get.

Q. Then conform yourself to the will of God in this chastisement and receive it with thanksgiving, since He chastises you with so much mercy and not according to your deserts. Do you not say that you deserved hell? Then how do you dare to ask of God consolations and comforts at meditation, and to find open access and familiarity with God therein, and the peace and quiet and repose of sons well cherished and entertained? And how do you dare to make complaint of the contrary? Do you not see that that is great impudence and great pride? Let it be enough for you that God keeps you in His house and allows you to stand in His presence; and esteem and recognize that for a great favor and benefit.

If we had humility of heart, we should never open our mouths to complain, whatever way the Lord treated us, and thus this temptation would easily cease.