Letter 87. To a Religious woman
He shows that it is no assured sign of disfavour, for God to estrange himself sometimes: & that our safety depends more upon his goodness, than our deserts: and he persuades her to have confidence in God.
I Have received many of your letters since I saw you last. And in some of them, you told me, that your soul was troubled: and in others, that our lord had begun to give you comfort. Yea, and I think you said, in some one of them, that the peace, and comfort which formerly you had received, was entirely returned. I answered none of those letters, either because my sins hindered me, from the grace of giving you comfort; or else because I knew you had sufficient confidence in me, without receiving my answers. But now at last, I receive a letter from you, whereby you tell me, that you are as much afflicted, as ever, if it be not rather more; and you desire me to write.
I am in pain, through your pain, and this, hath moved me, to entreat, that for the love of Christ Jesus crucified, you suffer not yourself to be blinded by that darkness, which superfluity of sadness, is wont to draw over our souls, but remember, how faithful that lord is, to whom you have offered yourself. And, that it is an usual thing with his infinite wisdom, to save the souls of his servants, by means which they cannot reach to understand; hiding his love from them sometimes: and showing them a countenance of some rigour; and all this, not because he is cruel, but out of pure, and perfect mercy. Because he knows that our infirmities are better cured, when we are laid under the scourge of tribulation; then when we are carried up in the hands of prosperity and comfort.
You tell me that desolation wherein you are, seems very bitter to you, and that you cannot bear the rigour of that angry face of our lord, which you say he shows to you, and that absence also from him, wherein you live. But I tell you, my good sister, that though tribulation may be of as much danger to you as you declare: yet the state of comfort, is still subject to as much. Nay, prosperity, is much more to be feared, than adversity. For in the former, the soul runs hazard, to departed from God: but in the latter though it suffer pain, yet that very pain itself, incites one to draw nearer to him. And if you say, that the great weight of discomfort, doth sometimes put the soul in danger of sinning through impatience, you say nothing but truth. But yet you must know withal, that much oftener, and by assaults of greater danger, the soul is brought into danger by the sweetness of gust.
Remember the Apostle saint Paul, who through the grace of him who was crucified, did esteem it for glory, to suffer the afflictions of the Cross.
And though he were environed by wars without, and fears within: yet his soul was safely kept, as in a haven most secure. But so great was the danger which he ran by the fair and clear weather of consolations and revelations; that if God had not permitted him, to be seized upon by the tempest, both of inward, and outward troubles, which laid such load upon his neck, as made him stoop, that great Saint might have been in danger, through the occasion of comfort, whom so many discomforts could not once pluck down.1
By this means, the bitter, was the cure of the sweet: and the Angel of Satan, was the occasion of benefit to him, to whom that great communication of Almighty God, might have been the occasion of falling; if through humane frailty, he had puffed up himself.2
If now this might have happened to that vessel of election: and if it were necessary for him to suffer, that so he might be freed from the dangers of comfort; how can you marvel, if God have watered your joy with tears: if your harp be set to sad tunes; and if those sweet communications, job 18. which you had before with Almighty God, be turned into such an unsavoury departure from him. His eyes, are able to discern, that, which your cannot. And he knows full well, the vanity of that hart of yours, which would not perhaps, be able to endure the weight of divine favours. Or else perhaps he may see, that you are likely to suffer decay of health by the excess, of the sweetness, of that divine gust which he gave you: Or else, that you esteemed more of yourself than you did of others, who want these comforts: Or else in fine, it may have happened, for any one of many other faults, which may have taken hold of the imperfection of your hart, jere. 17. & which cannot be throughly sifted by any, but by that God alone, who made it.
Yea and if you should not be, in any necessity, of this kind of physic (because, though our lord should comfort you still, yet perhaps you were not, to fall into these inconveniences) yet there are many other reasons, why our lord may think fit to treat his servants, after this manner. All which, are grounded upon his love to us; though in the blind eye of flesh and blood, they may seem to grow from disfavour. You know, it is a common saying, He who love's thee, will make thee cry. And the holy scripture saith, that a wound, given by a friend is better than the treacherous kiss of an enemy. And believe you for certain, that our lord love's you, and therefore doth he treat you after this manner. For it is written, our lord punnishes whom he love's, and he corrects such a one, as he receives for his son.3
And as in former times, God sent most hideous Martyrdoms to his beloved servants, by the hands of base and bloody executioners, engaging them in bitter wars, that afterward he might honour them with precious crowns; so now, when those exterior Martyrdoms are ceased, he sends others which be interior. And these (how soever they are not visible) be yet as great, or greater, than those. For then, men tormented them, and God gave them comfort; and by the strength of this Omnipotent God; those torments were overwrought, and mastered, which were inflicted on them, by weak men. But now, he who discomforts, is our Lord, who hides himself; and the Devils, like cruel executioners, do by a thousand devices, torment the mind, which is far more sensible, than the body. And from that torment, doth many times redound, a torment even to the very body itself. And so the whole man, both within and without, is laid upon the discomforts of a Cross And he sighs, and groans, and asks succour of our Lord. And our Lord, the while, makes himself deaf, and is more hidden from the soul then if there were seven walls, between him and it. Yea and it doth also expressly feel, that our Lord hath absented himself from it; and that, not only in the way of not doing it any favour, but rather expressly seeming, to disfavour it. As he proceeded with the Cananean, when, at the first, he did but forbear to answer, but afterward, he compared her to a dog.4
That indeed is an hour, of mighty anguish, when the soul finds no repose, in any thing, to which it can apply itself. As when a man is drowning, in a profound sea, without finding so much, as any little rest for the feet. Or like one, who is bound fast, hand and foot, and would fain rise up, but knows not once how to stir. For as he, who is highly comforted by Almighty God, cannot be discomforted, by any pain, or torment, so can nothing comfort him, who is discomforted by Almighty God. And yet must these servants, go after their lord; through such a desert as this, which is even a very image of death, and by such darkness, and distress, they must pass on, to the place of rest.
This Martyrdom I say, must be endured, for love of the Spouse, by that soul, which desires to carry, the Emblem of Love in her hart; and amongst these thorns she must make her nest, if she will be conform to her Head, who was crowned with thorns. And these draughts must she swallow down; & into these sweats must she be cast who resolves to keep that Lord company, who, being in fierce agony upon that holy Thursday at night, did sweat drops of blood, from his whole body, in testimony, that his soul, was truly sad, even to the very death.
Did you think perhaps, that it was some dainty and delightful thing, to serve Christ our Lord? or that you undertook some trifling business, when you began to place your love on him? They who fight the battles of love, must dye daily, as S. Paul did. And they must be even cruel, against themselves, (as a man who were careless of so many base and broken pots) to the end, that they may never fail of fidelity to the Love of our Lord. Which Love, was never complied with well by any, who was either negligent, or inconfident. For the former of these two, seeks his own Regalo, whereas it were his part, to seek the contentment of his beloved. And the latter, faints in his love, because he cannot believe that he is beloved. But Faith being joined to Obedience, frees us from such mischeives as these; making us believe that God love's us, and then most, when he most hides his love from us; and when he seems to be most rigorous, and cruel towards us. For the condition, and property of true faith, is to believe not only upon those signs, and pawns, which may be given; but as well, without them; and not only without them, but even against them. And herein, it doth but resemble every other virtue, which then declares best of what strength and beauty it is, when it is put on, by the fewest helps; and when it is encountered, by the greater impediments.
That is true love, which love's a person, who even deserves not to be beloved. And that is true Patience, which suffers impertinences, and endures wrongs. And then doth Chastity, deserve a rich, and gallant crown of glory, when in despite of several temptations, it stands fast. And so, you must learn to know, the true value of true faith, which believes and puts confidence, in the truth, and goodness of God, against that distrust, or despair, which humane reason, or the senses of flesh and blood, might pretend to cause. By this Faith, we see that which is invisible, how deep soever it be hid. And even through the midst of these pikes, which are the disfavours of God, (the sharp points whereof we feel sticking in us) we yet enter, and pass on, into that most retired secret of the hart of our Lord; and there we find, that indeed he love's us, though he show us signs, which look as if they proceeded from disaffection. And then so we esteem, and use them, as we ought, when we take them for the trial of our Faith; and for the exercise of our Love; and for the increase of our Crown; and for matter, whereupon our Obedience to God, must work.
If you believe me not, I pray you tell me, how shall the chaste woman be tried, but by contradictions, and combats against Chastity? And how shall your Faith be tried, but by receiving these tokens of disfavour, which pretend to deprive you of confidence. Be not troubled, to find that your Spouse is thus resolved, to make trial of your fidelity to him. For this is a very usual thing between Spouses; and the fruit thereof uses to be, but an increase of love; which it is not fit to keep idle; for in our employment, and exercise thereof, doth our life and treasure consist. And now God made choice of you, to discharge this office towards him. And if indeed you would exercise it well, it must be by loving him, though you feel not yourself to be beloved by him, and by following him, whom you conceive to be flying from you. For he who love's not but only when he finds himself to be beloved, is indeed no true lover; but his respects, run all towards himself. And hereby it will appear, whether you be that true Cananean or Noah, if when you hear hard language, and be cast of by our lord; you do yet importune him; and if following him, who flies from you; and humbling yourself to him, who treats you no better, than some base, unre asonable creature, you do yet proceed to love him, as sincerely, and purely, as if you tasted of great delights, and Regalos, at his hands. For in the end, he will answer you thus, O woman, great is thy faith, let that be done which thou desirest.
But in the mean time be you resolute, in continuing faith full; and say to him with your whole hart, O Lord I will love thee, though thou shouldest not love me. I will seek thee, and look cheerfully towards thee, though thou fly from me. Let me love thee still: upon that condition, do with me what thou wilt. By this means, the disfavours of our lord, shall be converted, into the exercise of true love: and herein you are to remain more contented; then you are to be in pain, for being disfavoured. Nor shall you only please our lord by this means, but more over you will obtain a crown in heaven, which will be strangely great. For by the measure of your discomforts, that robe of glory, is to be cut out, wherewith you must be vested, in heaven: and from the seed of tears, we must gather the sheaves of joy. And we are not to be crowned, for having been in devotion, and consolation; but for having been (as it were) threshed with variety of temptations, and for having been content, with the taste of such gall, as carried the very image of hell with it, and of the torments thereof: and for bearing all these things, with an equal mind, and for believing that they are light, and few, in comparison of that superexcellent weight of glory, which is to be revealed in them, who shall be humbled, and mortified after this manner. And we must think ourselves happy, in being obedient to the ordinance of our lord God, not only, in that which gives us gust, but in the contrary also. For otherwise, what wonder is it, to see the spouse, obey her fellow spouse, in that, which gives contentment to herself: since for that, there is no great need of love: for the respect of proper interest is able to breed such obedience as that. Nor do I know, with what eyes, Christ our lord will look upon such a spouse as that: since he obeyed his Father, for her sake, in cases of so extreme affliction, saying: Let it be, not as I will, but as thou wilt. Whereas she saith, just the contrary; Not as thou wilt, but as I will: for she will be squared out by another rule, than her head was: and will needs make the will of God, which is eternally good, to be crocked, that it may conform itself to her will: which seeks not that which is truly good for her, and which eternally is to be so but that which seems likely, to give her, some little temporal delight.56
A wake O Virgin, out of that sleep, wherein you are: for it is broad day. Take the shield of Faith, since God hath armed you with it, and drive away these dismays, believing, that you are beloved, though you be not regaled by our lord. And turn your complaint back upon yourself since a little present disfavour, is of more power, towards the drawing you down; then the many favours, which are past, to keep you fast on foot. You now, do just the contrary, of what you should. For whereas it were reason, that in this time of tribulation, you should remember your comforts of former times: believing, that the trouble which now you have, is but to try, what proportion of trust, you repose in God: You do yet call it into question, whether his love were true to you then, or no: believing rather in the show, and leaf, then in the substance, and root, You have no just cause to be dismayed, though you be afflicted. For our lord is nor gone from you: but he went away, with a meaning only to stand by, and to see how you carried yourself, like a mother who hides herself behind a hanging, to observe, and hear, what her child saith, and doth: whilst he thinks that he hath lost her, but then shortly she steps out and makes much of him.7
If you fear, that he hath forsaken you, and given you a bill of separation, for the faults, and ignorances, into which you may have fallen, you are much deceived. For in far greater falls than those, jerem. 3. his course hath been to comfort souls, by saying, Thou hast committed fornication with many lovers: but yet return to me, and I will receive thee.
Though God like well, that his servants should know, and weigh the faults, into which they fall; yet it is not his pleasure, that they should be dismayed, or too excessively afflicted by them. Nay he esteems this, to be of more disservice to him, than the very fall itself. Neither is it also his pleasure, that a sin which is as little as a grain of seed, should be made by us, as big as an Elephant, and much less, that we should make that to be a sin, which indeed is none. So that if you have not fallen into sin, and yet will needs be troubled, as if you had, you offend against his truth, And if you had fallen, you should offend against his mercy, by not believing, that he hath pardoned you. You offend also against his love by suspecting, that he hath forgotten you. And lastly, you offend against the Crosses, which he hath sent to you, esteeming them to be messengers, and signs of wrath, whereas indeed, they are effects of his goodness.
Take therefore the courage, now at last, to sally out, from the own narrow thought; & believe of God, according to his goodness; as it imports his honour, that you should do. And live not still, in such blindness, as to measure the large hand of God, by the rules of your own poor woeful hart. Nor conceive you, that now he will be a rigorous judge, who, at others times, and in your greatest occasions, hath been, a most indulgent Father to you.
It was not you upon whom he looked, when he pardoned you, and called you; but he regarded his own blood, which he shed. Nor doth he now, stand hanging upon your hands, as if he loved you, for them; but you are placed, and written in his, as he saith, by his Prophet Isay. And in those hands, he love's you; and with those hands he guards you, even then, when you think he gives you buffets. But it is his mercy, which is your remedy, and safety, and no merit of your own. You are a Daughter, and you are to possess heaven, by way of inheritance, and not, as a mere day labourer. Confide in God; and give him glory, in that he lodges his eyes, upon so unworthy a thing as you; and for that he purposes, to exalt so base a creature, to such height of glory. And know, that he hath no need of anything, in you; and that if he desire anything, it is, but that you may offer him that sacrifice of praise for your own good; confessing him to be your gracious pardoner and your piteous raiser up, from your falls; and your Sentinel who never sleeps when there is question, either of doing you favours, or of drawing good out of your sins; and your most wise conductor, who carries, and saves you, by such paths, as seem, in the eye of your ignorance to be very far about, or rather quite out of the way. And all this, he doth, through his own goodness alone, considering what himself is. Which carries a greater weight towards your salvation, than your wickedness doth, towards your condemnation; and you are bound to believe that so it is. And it must not seem strange to you, that the greater, surmounts the less: and the Creator, the creature. But let it stand for the last conclusion, that as no goodness in you, was the cause, why God loved, and called you to his service; so will he take care, that your wickedness, and weakness, shall not hinder the course of those mercies, which he resolves to show you, for all eternity. Continue your Communions; and, I beseech our Lord to give them his benediction. For my part, I like well thereof; and upon the days which are set down, communicate, from time to time; and God will give you strength, that it may do you no hurt: for he hath no quarrel to you. I beg that he may be your Love, since he is your Lover.
Footnotes
Chapter 35 of 57