How We Should Mortify Ourselves in Lawful Things, and in Necessary Things, Too

IT would seem that there was nothing more to be said on the practice and exercise of mortification but that we should exercise ourselves right well in the practice of the two manners of mortification above mentioned, since that would suffice for our being good and perfect religious. But that we may do these practices better and be more ready and disposed to do them, the saints and masters of spiritual life lay down another exercise of mortification in things that we might do lawfully. Asa good Christian is not content with doing things of obligation that are necessary for salvation, but adds on others of devotion, which they call “works of supererogation”—he is not content with hearing Mass on days of precept, but he will hear it also on weekdays; he recites the rosary of our Lady, and confesses and communicates frequently—so a good religious will not be content with keeping his rules and mortifying himself in all that is necessary for their observance, but he must contrive to do other mortifications of supererogation to which he is not bound by rule, mortifying himself in some things not obligatory, but things that he might lawfully do.

St. Dorotheus says that there is nothing so helpful for advancement in virtue and gaining peace and tranquillity as curbing one’s own will, and teaches us the way that we should take in mortifying ourselves in things that we might do lawfully. You are walking on one side of the street, and there comes over you an impulse to turn your head and look across the road—don’t look. You are in company, and there occurs to you a remark very much to the point, likely, you think, to make you pass for a discreet and judicious person—don’t say it. The saint gives other examples, going into such details as the following. You have a mind to know what we are going to have for dinner; don’t try to find out. You see some new article of furniture in the house; you have a mind to know who sent this or who brought it, whether it is a purchase or a present—don’t ask. A guest comes; at once you have a mind to ask: ‘Who has come? Where does he come from? Where is he going? On what business ?”—don’t try to know; mortify yourself on that point. This practice, St. Dorotheus says, helps greatly to the creation of a habit of denying our own will; for if we accustom ourselves to curb it in these small things, we shall shortly come to having no will of our own in greater matters. As those who are in training for war practise in time of peace what they have to do in war, making trial of themselves in tournaments and conflicts, which for the time being are sham fights, because so it is necessary to make them dexterous and in practice when real fighting comes; so the religious should accustom himself to mortify and curb his will in lawful things that thus he may be afterwards quick and ready and well trained to mortify himself in regard of things unlawful. St. Bonaventure also teaches this practice of mortification in small things and things that we might lawfully do, giving the example of plucking or not plucking a flower when you are walking in the garden because, though there is no harm in plucking it, yet to let it alone on purpose to mortify yourself is more pleasing to God. And he says that a servant of God should often say in his heart: “For your love, O Lord, I will not see this, nor hear that, nor taste that morsel, nor take just now this sort of recreation.”

Of our Father Francis Borgia it is related that, when he was duke, he was much attached to the sport of hawking and took great delight therein; and when he went to fly a heron, just in the nick of time, when the falcon stooped on her lure and killed it, he would lower his eyes and rob them of their lure, depriving himself of that gratification and enjoyment which with so much labor he had sought all day long. St. Gregory says that it is proper to the servants of God to deprive themselves of lawful things in order to be further removed from things unlawful. On this account those holy Fathers of the Desert had such esteem of this practice and brought up their disciples to it, making them give up their work and do work they had no taste for—in little things and things they might have done without sin or any imperfection, that in all things they might deny their own will and be armed for greater things. And of him who in these light and easy mortifications gave good proof of himself, they had good hopes that he would reach perfection; and they had a poor opinion of anyone else who showed otherwise, thinking that a will accustomed to do what it likes, even in small matters and things of little importance will prove very disinclined afterwards to deny itself in greater things. Hence the Society took the practice which it uses, especially in the beginning with novices, of occupying them in different exercises and offices, making them leave what they have begun and undo what they have done and go back to do it again, that they may not grow up headstrong and self-willed, but from the beginning may be accustomed to deny their will and their own judgment.

But the saints go further in this exercise of mortification. Not content with accustoming us to deny our own will in lawful things that we might do without sin and any imperfection, they advise us even in those very things that we are bound to attend to, to accustom ourselves to mortify and deny our own will. But someone will say: “How can this be? Are we to give over doing what we are bound to do, to mortify ourselves?” I say no, by no means; that would be ill done: it is not lawful to do evil that good may come of it (Rom. iii. 8). How, then, is this to be? The saints have found for it a marvelous contrivance, and it is the teaching of St. Paul. Mark and observe, they say, that you are to do nothing, think nothing, say nothing on a main motive of accomplishing your own will or desires; but before you eat, you must mortify the appetite of gluttony and not eat because you have an appetite and want food, but in obedience to God, Who wishes and commands you to eat to sustain life, as did the Abbot Isidore, of whom Paladius relates that he wept when he went to dinner, and went only out of obedience.

Before you study, you should mortify your desire to study, and then study because God wishes it and commands it and not of your own will and taste. Before you preach or lecture in the professor’s chair, mortify the craving and inclination that you have thereto and do not do it to suit your own taste and desire, but because so you are bidden and it is the will of God. In the same way in all other things you must abandon the proper motion of your own will, and do them because God so requires. It is not reasonable that things should lead us captive to go their way, but we should draw them to ourselves and to God, doing them purely for Him. This is what the Apostle says: Whether ye eat, or drink, or do anything else whatsoever, do all to the glory of God (I Cor. x. 31). This is a very chief point, a point of high spirituality. We must not do our actions nor discharge the office which we hold for our own taste and inclination, but purely for God, because He so wishes and commands. We must accustom ourselves to do in all things not our own will but that of God, and delight in them, not because the things are in themselves agreeable or to our taste or conformable to our inclination, but because we do in them the will of God. Whoever shall live in this manner, will not only become accustomed to mortify and deny his own will, but will be doing the will of God in all things, which is a very high exercise of the love of God and of great profit and perfection, as we have said elsewhere.

Wide enough the field that we have opened for this exercise! Thus, whoever shall wish to make his particular examen on mortifying and denying his will—and a very profitable examen that will be—should go little by little by the steps and degrees that we have laid down in the chapters on Examination of Conscience. To begin with, we may make our own particular examen on mortifying ourselves on the occasions that offer without our seeking them, in which there is enough to do for some days and even for many, especially if we go the length of bearing things not only with patience but with joy and cheerfulness, which is the third and most perfect degree of mortification. The second step would be to mortify our will in what disturbs and hinders us from doing well the thing that we have to do to be good religious and keep our rules and proceed with edification, which things are countless. The third step would be to mortify ourselves in some things that we may lawfully do, in this way to accustom and habituate ourselves to deny our own will and be the more ready and better prepared for the time when other and greater occasions shall offer. We may purpose to mortify ourselves in these things so many times in the morning and so many times in the afternoon, beginning with a smaller number and afterwards increasing them according to the progress we make.

And the more frequent these mortifications are, the better, even though they were to complete the full number of their particular examen beads, as we have known some in the Society to do, who mortified themselves that number of times every day and even went beyond the number, as was well approved by the progress they made. Fourthly, we may make this particular examen on those same things that we are bound to do, taking care to do them, not because we like them or have a taste for them, but because such is the will of God, which is a practice that may last for a lifetime, being a thing of great perfection. This examen according to these points may be made by way of conformity to the will of God, taking all things as coming from His hand, and sent us by the loving-kindness of a Father for our greater good and profit. We may reckon that Christ Himself speaks to us, saying: “Child, I would have thee now do or suffer this.” In this way it will be easier and sweeter, more profitable and effectual and of greater perfection, because it will be an exercise of the love of God, which renders all things easy and sweet. That reason: “This is the will of God; God here and now wishes and has a mind for this,” is a convincing and conclusive argument; it ties feet and hands, and leaves no escape.

We read of our Father Francis Borgia that he once set out late from Valladolid for Simancas, where was the house of probation. It was snowing heavily, and there was blowing a very cold and chilly wind. He arrived late at night, at a time when the novices were already in bed. There he was a long time knocking at the gate, while heavy flakes of snow were falling upon him. As they were in their first sleep, and the gate was far from the house, he got no answer. After a long time they heard him and opened to him. The novices were much distressed at having kept their father so long waiting, and to see him pierced and shivering with cold. The father then said to them with a very gracious and cheerful countenance: “Do not grieve, my brothers, for I assure you that the Lord has given me great consolation while I was waiting. I was thinking that it was the Lord Who aimed the snowflakes at me and sent the icy winds to blow upon me; and that all that He does He does with infinite delight and satisfaction to Himself; and that I ought to rejoice, considering the satisfaction of God in chastising and afflicting me, and be glad of the joy that He took in that work, as a lion or other brute animal is harried to pieces before a great prince solely to give him pleasure.” After this manner we ought to take all occasions of mortification, and this should be our joy and satisfaction in them, the joy and satisfaction of God.