Sermon XXXII. On the Different Ways in which the Word Presents Himself to Different Souls, and on the Sources of Good and Evil Thoughts
"Show me where Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day."
"Show me where Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day." Hither, my brethren, have we come, and here we begin. But before proceeding with the explanation of this vision and this loving entreaty, I think it would be well if I briefly recapitulated what has been said of the other visions already dealt with, showing how they may be spiritually accommodated to ourselves, according to the desires and the merits of each. For in this way, the understanding of those, if yet it be granted us, will facilitate the comprehension of this which I purpose to discuss in the present sermon. The undertaking is far from being an easy one. Although the language in which the visions or figures are described seems to refer directly to bodies and things of the body, yet what is meant to be conveyed to us is something spiritual, and hence the causes and significations have to be spiritually investigated. But who is capable of examining and comprehending the so various affections and advances of the soul to which is dispensed the multiform grace of the presence of the Bridegroom? Yet, if we enter into ourselves, and if the Holy Spirit deigns to reveal to us by His light the work which He condescends to busy Himself constantly about in our interior, I think we shall not remain altogether without understanding of these matters. For I trust that "we have received, not the spirit of this world, but the Spirit That is of God, that we may know the things that are given us from God"
Therefore, if to any amongst us, as to the holy Psalmist, it has been given to feel intensely that it is "good to adhere to God," or, to speak more plainly, if there be amongst us such a "man of desires" that he "desires to be dissolved and to be with Christ," and desires this ardently, thirsts for it eagerly, and meditates on it night and day, he certainly shall receive the Word not otherwise than in the character of a Bridegroom, at the time of his visitation. That is to say, at the hour when he feels himself closely embraced in his interior, with the arms, so to speak, of divine wisdom, and experiences in consequence a sweet infusion of holy love. For "his heart's desire" has been given him, whilst still sojourning in the body. Yet only in part, and that but for a time, and a short time. For the Beloved, after having been sought and found with so many watchings, so many supplications, so much labour, such floods of tears, suddenly slips away, when we are supposing that we still hold Him fast. Then, again, He unexpectedly confronts us as, weeping, we pursue Him, and allows Himself to be taken hold of, but not to be detained, for He once more flies suddenly away from our grasp. However, if the favoured soul be instant in prayer with tears, He will come back soon to her, and "will not withhold from her the will of her lips." But very soon He again disappears, and is no longer seen, unless He be followed with the fulness of the heart's desire. In this way, therefore, even in our exile here below, we may often experience the joy of the Bridegroom's presence, yet not unto satiety. For although the visitation brings us gladness the withdrawal causes pain in proportion. And so long must the beloved Spouse endure this vicissitude of consolation and abandonment until, having once laid aside the burden of corporeal flesh, she, too, learns how to fly, lifted up on the wings of holy desires, and to make her way unimpeded through the far-spreading aerial plains of divine contemplation, with liberty of spirit following her Beloved "whithersoever He goeth." Yet not to every soul does He communicate Himself in this manner, even momentarily, but only to that which, by the fervour of her devotion, and the eagerness of her desires and the surpassing tenderness of her love, proves herself to be a true spouse, and worthy that the Beloved, in coming to pay her a visit, should "put on His beauty," assuming the form of a Bridegroom. For she that is not yet found so disposed, but rather afflicted at the recollection of her sins, ought to say to God, speaking in the bitterness of her soul, "Condemn me not." And she who has still to struggle against violent temptation from her "own concupiscence, being drawn away and allured," it is not a Bridegroom such a one needs, but a Physician. Therefore, she receives, instead of kisses and caresses, only oils and unguents as remedies for her wounds. Have we not often felt this in ourselves? Has not this been our own experience in prayer, still daily afflicted as we are by our present excesses, and tortured by the memory of the past? O good Jesus, from how great a bitterness of soul Thy advent has frequently delivered me! How often, after anxious tears, after "unspeakable groanings" and sobbings hast Thou not anointed my wounded conscience with the unction of Thy mercy, and soothed it with an infusion of the "oil of gladness"! How often has it not happened that the prayer, which found me almost abandoned by hope, restored to me peace and joy with the assurance of pardon! They who have had the same experience, "behold they know" how truly the Lord Jesus is called a Physician, "Who healeth the broken of heart, and bindeth up their wounds." And such as cannot claim experimental knowledge of this, must believe Him when He says of Himself, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, wherefore He hath anointed Me; He hath sent Me to preach to the meek, to heal the contrite of heart." But if they still doubt, let them draw nigh to Him and put the matter to trial. So, from what happens in themselves, they shall come to an understanding of His words, "I will have mercy and not sacrifice." But let us now pass on to consider the remaining points of our subject.
There are some, my brethren, who, tired of spiritual things, lapse into tepidity, and in a certain faintness of the spirit, walk sadly on in the ways of the Lord, approaching every duty with a dry and heavy heart, and often giving way to discontent and murmuring. Weary and desolate, they are heard to complain of the length of the days and of the length of the nights. With holy Job they say, "If I lie down to sleep I shall say, when shall I rise? and again I shall look for the evening." Therefore, whenever we happen to suffer anything like this, if only the Lord out of pity should meet us "in the way in which we are walking," and, being Himself from heaven, should begin to talk to us of the things of heaven, or to sing us a sweet and soothing song of the canticles of Si on, or to entertain us with an account of the city of God, of the peace of that city, the eternity of that peace, and the immutability of that eternity, I assure you, my brethren, such delightful conversation would be as a soft litter to the drowsy and weary wayfarers, relieving at once the languor of the mind and the fatigue of the body. Does it not seem to you that such was the experience of him and such the object of his prayer, who said, "My soul hath slumbered through heaviness; strengthen Thou me in Thy words"? And when his request was granted, did he not exclaim, "Oh, how I have loved Thy law, O Lord!"? Our meditations on our Bridegroom, the Word, on His Glory, His Beauty, His Power, His Majesty, may be considered as His conversations with us. A ad not only that, but even when with fervent hearts we ponder His testimonies and the "judgments of His Mouth," and "meditate on His law, day and night," let us be firmly convinced that the Beloved is there present and speaking to us, so that, charmed with His words, we may not grow weary of the labour.
Whenever, therefore, my brethren, you are conscious of entertaining such thoughts in your souls, do not mistake them for your own reflections, but acknowledge them to be the interior speech of Him Who declares by the mouth of His Prophet, "I (am He) That speak justice." For there is, in some respects, the closest resemblance1 between the thoughts of our mind and the words of Truth speaking within us. Hence, it is no easy matter for a man to distinguish the words which his heart utters from those which it simply hears, unless he prudently attends to the teaching of Christ, where He tells us in the Gospel that "from the heart come forth evil thoughts," and where He says, "Why do you think evil in your hearts?" and, "When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own." And the Apostle similarly asserts "not that we are sufficient to think anything of ourselves, as of ourselves, but our sufficiency is from God." It is, of course, only the sufficiency to think anything good that he refuses to admit in us. The evil, therefore, that we revolve in our minds is our own thought; the good is the secret word of God. Our hearts speak the former, they only listen to the latter. "I will hear," says the Psalmist, "what the Lord God will speak in me, for He will speak peace unto His people." Consequently, it is God Who speaks peace, piety, and justice in us. Of ourselves we cannot think of such things, we do but hear them. On the other hand, murders, uncleannesses, thefts, blasphemies, and such like come forth from the heart. These are not heard by it, but spoken. For "the fool hath said in his heart, there is no God." And therefore "hath the wicked provoked God, for he hath said in his heart, He will not require it." But there is something besides, which is indeed felt by the heart, and yet is not a word uttered by the heart. For it does not come forth from the heart as our own thought. Neither is it the same as that other word, which, as I said, is spoken by Truth to the heart, viz., the word of the Word, since this word is evil. But it is inspired by the opposing powers, as one of the things sent "by evil angels" (Immissiones per angelos malos — Ps. cxxvii. 49). So we read that the demon put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon, as an evil word, to betray the Lord.
But who is there that watches so vigilantly and constantly over his interior feelings, whether only in him, or also from him, that in every illicit emotion of the heart he clearly distinguishes between the natural corruption of his own mind and the bite of the serpent? In my opinion, no mortal man is capable of this, unless he who, enlightened by the Paraclete, has received that special grace which the Apostle mentions amongst the gifts of the Holy Ghost, and names the discernment of spirits. One may guard his heart with all possible vigilance, according to Solomon; and with most watchful attention observe all its interior motions; one may be long practised and have frequent experience in these matters, yet never shall he be able to discriminate with certitude between the home-sprung evil and the hell-inspired. For "who can understand sins?" But it concerns us very little to know whence the evil is, as long as we perceive that it is really within us. Rather, whatsoever its source, we should make it our business to watch and pray assiduously, lest we should give it our consent. The Psalmist prays against both evils, viz., that originating from our own hearts, and that inspired by the demon, when he says, "From my secret sins cleanse me, O Lord, and from those of others spare Thy servant." I cannot deliver unto you, my brethren, that which I have not myself received. But I have not received, I must candidly confess, any means of distinguishing infallibly between the evil that is begotten of the heart and that which is injected by the enemy. Both are truly evils, and proceed from an evil source; both are in the heart, yet not both of the heart. Of that much I am certain, although I am not able to determine what is to be attributed to the domestic, and what to the foreign enemy. However, as I have already remarked, such ignorance is attended with no great danger.
But there is another matter wherein error would unquestionably be perilous, nay, even pernicious, viz., in assigning to their respective sources the good and the evil which we discover within us. And here we have duly prescribed for us a certain and definite rule lest we should credit ourselves with what belongs to God, mistaking the divine visitation for fruit of our own hearts, or, on the other hand, attribute to grace what is but the product of nature. For between these two there is the same distinction as between good and evil. Our rule, therefore, is this, that nothing of evil must be ascribed to God, nor anything of good to ourselves, except perhaps that which the heart may have previously conceived through the grace of the Word. For "a good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can an evil tree bring forth good fruit." But I think enough has now been said to show how much of the contents of our minds is due to God, and how much to ourselves, or the evil spirit; enough, I say, yet nothing superfluous, since I want the enemies of grace2 to understand clearly that, without grace, the human heart is incapable of even a good thought, but its "sufficiency is from God"; and that the good which is conceived is rather the voice of the Lord than the offspring of the mind. If, then, you hear that voice, you will no longer be ignorant "whence it cometh, or whither it goeth," knowing that it "cometh from God and goeth" to the heart. But see to it that the word which comes forth from the Mouth of God does not return to Him empty, "but that it shall do and prosper in all the things for which He sent it." Thus shall you also be able to say, "His grace in me hath not been void."
Happy the soul to which the Bridegroom, as her inseparable Companion, everywhere shows Himself affable, and gives to experience uninterruptedly the sweetness of His divine eloquence! She certainly will have it in her power at all times to deliver herself from the troubles and temptations that have their source in the flesh, whilst she occupies herself in "redeeming the time because the days are evil." Weariness and distress can have no access to such a soul, for, as it is written, "Whatsoever shall befall the just man, it shall not make him sad."
Now, it seems to me, my brethren, that the Word also manifests Himself as a great Father of a family, or rather under the form of Royal Majesty, to those who, as the Psalmist says, have "come to a deep heart," viz., have their hearts filled with noble courage, and are rendered more magnanimous by great liberty of spirit and purity of conscience. I mean such as are wont to dare the difficult things, to penetrate the deep things with a kind of restless yet commendable curiosity, to lay hold of the high things and to undertake the perfect things, and that, not so much in the physical, as in the spiritual order. For these are found worthy, by reason of the greatness of their faith, to be
I. 26 admitted to the fulness of every grace. And amongst all the storerooms of wisdom, I do not think there is a single one from which "the Lord, the God of all knowledge" judges that they should be excluded who show themselves as desirous of truth as they are strangers to vanity. Such a one was Moses, who dared to say to God, "If I have found favour in Thy sight, show me Thy Face." Such was St. Philip, who asked that the Father should be shown to himself and to his fellow-apostles. Such, too, was St. Thomas, who refused to believe unless with his own fingers he touched the Saviour's Wounds, and put his hand into His pierced Side. His faith, indeed, was weak, but was founded, in a sense, in his greatness of soul, as is clear from his boldness in demanding such a proof. Another such was King David, for he also desired to see the Lord, and said to Him, "My heart hath said to Thee: my face hath sought Thee, Thy Face, O Lord, will I still seek." These men, accordingly, had the courage to ask for great things, because they were themselves great men. And they obtained that which they had the daring to solicit, according to the promise made to them, namely, "Every place that your foot shall tread upon shall be yours." For great faith merits a great reward. And as far as you extend the foot of your confidence in the goods of the Lord, so far shall be yours.
Thus we find that Moses spoke to God face to face. The holy Legislator deserved to see the Lord openly and not "in a dark manner "and under symbols and figures, whilst the Lord Himself declared that He revealed Himself to other prophets only in visions and spoke to them only in dreams. St. Philip, likewise, according to the petition of his heart, was shown the Father in the Son, no doubt, in the words immediately addressed to him, "Philip, he that seeth Me, seeth the Father also," and, "I am in the Father and the Father in Me." To St. Thomas, also, his request was granted, for the Word gave Himself to him to be handled according to his heart's desire, and did not "defraud him of the will of his lips." What shall I say of David? Does not he, too, give us to understand that he was not defrauded of the object of his desire, when he declares that he will not "give sleep to his eyes, nor slumber to his eyelids, nor rest to his temples, until he found a place for the Lord "? Thus the Bridegroom will appear in His greatness to such great souls, and will <f do great things for them." He will "send forth His light and His truth, and conduct them and bring them unto His holy hill and into His tabernacles," so that each of them shall be able to say with Mary, "He that is mighty hath done great things for me." Their eyes shall behold the "King in his beauty "guiding their steps towards the "beautiful places of the desert," to the home of the roses and the lilies of the valleys, and to the pleasant gardens, and to the refreshing fountains, and to the storehouses replenished with delights, and to the fragrant spices, and lastly, even to the privacy of the royal bedchamber.
Such, my brethren, are the "treasures of wisdom and knowledge" concealed in the abode of the Bridegroom. Such are the pastures of life, prepared for the nourishment of holy souls. "Blessed is the man that hath fulfilled his desire with them." Only let me exhort him not to wish to keep to himself alone that which would suffice for many. It is, perhaps, for this reason that after the mention of all these treasures the Bridegroom is described as appealing in the form of a Shepherd, viz., to remind him who has received so much grace, of his obligation to feed the flock of the simple. By the simple I mean those who have neither the power to attain to such things of themselves, nor yet the courage to go out into the pastures without their shepherd. The prudent Spouse, conscious of this, begs to be shown where He feeds and reposes in the mid-day heat, yearning, as her words indicate, to be fed and to feed with Him, and under His protection. For she does not think it safe to drive her flock far from the Supreme Pastor, on account of the hostile incursions of the wolves, particularly of the wolves that come to us in sheep's clothing. Hence, she is anxious to feed in the same pastures with Him and to repose in the same shade. And she explains the reason of her request when she adds, "Lest I begin to wander after the flocks of Thy companions." These are they who wish to appear the friends of the Bridegroom, but are not. And although they are more concerned to feed their own flocks than His, yet they keep crying out deceitfully from time to time, "Lo, here is Christ, lo, there is Christ," in order to seduce the many, to lead them away from the flock of the Lord, and unite them to their own. Thus far I have been occupied with the obvious sense of my text. The underlying spiritual signification shall engage me in my next discourse, in which I hope to communicate to you whatever lights may, mean-time, be vouchsafed me in answer to your prayers, through the gracious mercy of the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ, Our Lord, Who is over all things, God blessed for ever. Amen.
Footnotes
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"Son, observe diligently the motions of nature and grace for they move very opposite ways and very subtlely, and can hardly be distinguished but by a spiritual man, and one that is internally illuminated" — Imitation, Bk. III. ch. liv. — (Translator.) ↩
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The Saint is here alluding to Abelard and his followers who went beyond Pelagius himself in their attempts to depreciate grace, Which, according to them; is nothing supernatural at all, but either the very light of our natural reason, or at most, the example of Christ. — (Translator.) ↩
Chapter 33 of 89