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Chapter XI: On Meditation

UNDER the general term “Meditation” we comprise every form of mental prayer in which the soul, by the labour of reflection and reasoning, raises herself to God. Though it contains only the first elements of prayer, meditation is one of the surest means of entering upon a spiritual life.

In that admirable rule of holy living, Psalm cxviii, one thought is constantly recurring: “Unless Thy law had been my meditation, I had then perhaps perished in my abjection.1 Thy testimonies are wonderful: therefore my soul hath sought them.2 My eyes to Thee have prevented the morning, that I might meditate on thy works.”3 Scripture abounds with texts such as these, proving the importance of meditation. The first Psalm makes man’s happiness consist in meditation on the law of God: “On His law he shall meditate day and night . . . and shall bring forth fruit in due season.”4 St. Paul, speaking to his disciple Timothy of the Sacrament of Holy Orders, which he has received, gives this counsel: “Meditate upon these things, be wholly in these things: that thy profiting may be manifest to all.”5 To go still further back, it is related in the Book of Genesis that Isaac, son of the free woman, went out into the field on the eve of his marriage to meditate near the mysterious well, called “Of the Living and the Seeing.” This well was a symbol of the laborious way by which grace was obtained in the Old Law and of its comparatively sparing measure. It contrasts strongly with that river whose torrent rejoiceth the city of God. “And he was gone forth to meditate in the field, the day being now well spent.”6

Reflection is a law of our very nature. Reflection, that is to say natural meditation, is necessary when a man wishes to undertake any work whatsoever; he must steady his thoughts, weigh them well, and put them in order. Meditation is moreover a means of rousing strong feelings. David experienced this when he said: “My heart grew hot within me: and in my meditation a fire shall flame out.”7 If this is the process by which our thoughts take shape and become powerful in the purely natural order, why should we not employ this faculty to apprehend the truths which God has deigned to reveal, and to imprint them deeply on our hearts. What more holy subject of reflection than God’s mysteries? What more noble use of the human intellect and will than to look into and to comprehend the Good, the Beautiful and the True.

Moreover, it would be a strange error to suppose that all souls could turn their thoughts from vanities, and without labour and using violence rid themselves of the tumult of external things. One of the deepest traces of original sin is this very weakness of the intelligence which rebels against the light and prefers darkness to it, so much so indeed that unless the will by force arrests the unstable mind and applies it with perseverance to divine things, there is every reason to fear that the spiritual life will take very little root within us.

"Meditation," said Dom Gueranger, "has a twofold object: to bring back to the mind truths well known but too much forgotten; to draw them out of the darkness and silence in which they are sleeping, and to give these truths a power of action which they can have only when recalled to mind and reflected upon. Meditation consists, therefore, in recollecting ourselves and considering attentively that supernatural truth, the impression of which has grown weak, and no longer sufficiently rules our lives to stamp them with its character and seal. As long as the soul has not become familiar with supernatural truths, or as often as she feels herself becoming less impressed by them and less powerfully spurred on, meditation, or a return to it, will be absolutely necessary. As we cannot see unless we look, so it is only by means of meditation that the soul either gains or regains the truth.

"Experience shows clearly that when the mind works, its steady and orderly reflection gives back to the intelligence matter which had been forgotten; so also meditation on the supernatural truths has the power to restore our conviction of them even after a long period of disregard and forgetfulness."

It was in this sense that the Fathers spoke of meditation: "Prayer," says St. Ambrose, "is the ordinary food that we should give to our souls, because this food, being digested by constant meditation, supports and feeds the soul, as the manna from heaven heretofore strengthened the body."8 St. Augustine also in explaining the Psalms insists upon meditation: "We exhort you, beloved, that what by hearing, ye store, so to speak, in the stomach of your memory, that, by again revolving and meditating, ye in a manner ruminate.”9 And elsewhere the holy Doctor proposes the example of David: “The prophet,” he says, “was conversing in the secret place of his own heart. But let him declare to us what he was doing there. . . . This man was examining his spirit, and was speaking with that same spirit—that is to say, he was questioning himself, was examining himself, was judging himself. . . . He was rejoicing at the mercies of the Lord and exulting in the remembrance of His works.”10

On this subject it is scarcely necessary to quote any more from the Fathers; however it is important to bring forward the teaching of Cassian, as it sums up the tradition of the great contemplatives of old, who presided over schools of perfection and holiness.

“The most elementary principles of a profession,” says Cassian, “facilitate its beginnings, and enable us easily to reach its highest degree of perfection. A child could never pronounce syllables without first knowing its letters, and how could he read fluently who could scarcely put words together? Or how could one become skilful in rhetoric, or philosophy, who had not mastered the rules of grammar? So likewise the sublime science which teaches us how to unite ourselves to God, has certain fundamental principles which will be a sure groundwork whereon to erect the spiritual edifice of the highest perfection. It seems to us that the first of these principles consists in the remembrance and thought of God, and then in the means for fixing this remembrance and thought in our minds. Is not all perfection herein contained? We would, therefore, know what these means are of forming some conception of God, and having Him ever present to our minds, so that if we sometimes lose sight of Him we may be able to recall His divine presence immediately and without difficulty.”11

The holy solitary, the Abbot Isaac, to whom Cassian was speaking, then gave a perfect lesson of meditation on the verse: Deus, in adjutorium meum intende, showing that by means of one single verse of a Psalm the soul can become recollected in God, and thus avoid that fickleness and inconstancy which these venerable men looked upon as a great danger in the spiritual life. Let us once more borrow from them the exact picture of these wanderings of the imagination in prayer: “Scarcely do we begin to think on some verse of a Psalm, than it immediately and insensibly escapes us, and we wonder how we can so easily roam from place to place in holy Scripture; as soon as we begin to apply, and before we have apprehended what we were reflecting upon, the memory has hurried to another passage, and we lose all the fruit of our meditation. Thus the mind runs from one subject to another, and skips from Psalm to Psalm, from the Gospels to the Epistles, from the Epistles to the Prophets, and from the moral to the historical parts of Scripture. It does nothing but wander, without any fixed purpose, through the whole extent of the sacred volume. It can retain nothing, reject nothing by choice. It meditates on nothing, penetrates into nothing. It runs lightly over a subject, without being able to relish the inward meaning, or to produce and assimilate any holy thoughts. Thus always roving, always unstable, always distracted, the soul resembles an intoxicated person, even during the Divine Office, and is incapable of discharging its duties rightly. For instance, when we pray, we are thinking of some Psalm or some reading; if we chant a Psalm, something else not at all connected with it will rush into the mind; if we read, we are distracted by dwelling upon what we have done, or upon what we have to do, and thus we are the sport of chance, without rule or any means of fixing our will and retaining what we should wish to meditate upon.”12

The wound is plainly discovered just as we know it after the lapse of so many ages; and here in part is the answer of the Abbot Isaac: “Three things arrest the wanderings of the mind: watching, meditation and prayer. An assiduous application to these exercises will render the soul firm and immovable. This result, however, cannot be obtained without manual labour.”13 Thus we learn from Cassian that our Fathers made a distinction between prayer and meditation, and that our mind should be intent upon some one thing in meditation, and not be carried away by a variety of thoughts. It is well known that the mind shows greater power when it reduces many notions to unity and simplicity, than when it wastes itself lightly in a multitude of thoughts.

The ancients prescribed this method, especially for beginners, as we may infer from the advice of the holy Abbot Paphnutius to the generous penitent Thais: “Sitting and looking towards the east, frequently repeat this one prayer: ‘Thou, who hast created me, have mercy on me.’”14 After three years God made known by a miracle that this short prayer had been so pure as to bring about the perfect cleansing of the venerable penitent, and now the virgins themselves were preparing her adornments.

From these examples we see clearly that, although meditation is a discourse of the mind, a summary of considerations intended to impress truth upon the heart and to develop the love of God, it must not be a work of the understanding only, such as the composition of a sermon or the drawing up of a learned theological thesis. Nothing could be farther from the purpose than this kind of meditation, which will gratify vanity rather than foster the love of God. For self is mirrored in these high thoughts, and the soul takes delight in her own sublimity; of all other illusions this is the most dangerous, since there can be no true prayer without humility, which is the purity of the mind, just as chastity is that of the body. The devil himself, with exaltation of mind, knows how to meditate on divine things, he could give lessons in it even to men of genius; but this very meditation intoxicates him with pride: "By the multitude of thy merchandise, thy inner parts were filled with iniquity; thou hast sinned, and I cast thee out from the mountain of God."15

Meditation on divine things is then a certain cure for the wanderings of our mind. Therefore all true meditation will have for its object to give back the light of divine truths and to make them sink deeper into our hearts. As light, however, never exists without heat, this greater hold of truth will increase within us the fire of love.

We have already pointed out that the Fathers of old recommended their disciples, when meditating, to avoid a multiplicity of thoughts, plainly proving that true meditation is not an offspring of curiosity, but occupies itself humbly with the simplest truths, because these afford no matter for vain, subtle inquiry, and more easily carry the soul to God. Here we are reminded of that comprehensive lesson of perfection given to St. Catharine of Sienna by our Lord Himself in these few words: "I am He who is: thou art she who is not."

It follows from what has been said thus far, that we must use meditation properly so-called only until we have gained a firm and lasting hold upon supernatural truths. No one should ever forget that meditation is intended to fill up a deficiency in our souls, and to conquer our natural inattention; and that if it is very important to make use of it when necessary, it is childish to persist in it when no longer needed.

It is necessary as long as the truths of faith are not deeply impressed upon the soul; it ceases to be so, at least continually, when the gift of piety so works within us that without any difficulty we relish holy things, and when the mind retains them present and active by an attention that no longer wanders. Were the soul in these conditions to continue the use of meditation she would run the risk of stifling within herself the true spirit of prayer, which does not consist in reasoning but in the affections. She would resemble a person seeking a light and continuing to strike with the steel when the stone had already given the spark, thus risking to extinguish it again. It is necessary to strike the stone as long as it does not give a spark, but it is unwise to continue a superfluous labour beyond all limit.

We repeat, meditation must always tend to inflame the heart; but if the heart warms up without much meditation on divine truth, we must dwell peacefully in this affection for it is true prayer and the end of all meditation. There is folly in seeking a thing found and in pursuing an end which has been reached.

Experience, however, suggests a remark which must find its place here. Side by side with those persons who, without any merit on their part, are by a special grace, and from the very beginning drawn to prayer without passing through meditation, there are others who, even naturally, are unfit for this exercise. In consequence of a lively imagination and a certain levity and want of steadiness, they are almost incapable of fixing their mind upon any subject whatever. In vain would they persist in trying to meditate; were they to succeed, it would be mere human labour and a kind of philosophical work. How then will they employ their time? On this point St. Teresa, who was not able to meditate, gives excellent advice which we shall quote farther on. But what is most important of all is that they should not lose courage, thinking that because they are not able to meditate therefore they are unfit for mental prayer. There are indeed various other means of rendering the soul attentive to divine things and of fixing the heart upon them. Thus for example, making many acts of the virtues of which we stand most in need; making intercession for the Church, for our neighbour and for ourselves; reciting some vocal prayer very slowly, and gently fixing our attention upon it.

Many persons ask what are the best subjects for meditation. This is a question of some importance, especially for beginners in the spiritual life, as it may happen that not having chosen a fixed subject, caprice becomes mistress of their prayer, and they waste their time skipping from one thing to another, which is the ruin of all self-control. Masters of the spiritual life have often advised preparation over night of the subject for meditation. It is an excellent practice, especially for persons unaccustomed to recollection and the exercise of the presence of God.

But having in a general way touched upon this subject, it seems almost impossible to give any precise rule for the choice of our meditations. Each soul has its own aptitudes and needs; and these are not the same at all times. We pray differently when we are in joy or in sorrow, in fervour or in discouragement, in consolation or in trial. One person can with ease gather up his thoughts and apply his mind to the mysteries, another can arrest his attention only by some pious imagination, such as picturing a place, a scene and, as it were, the external and sensible part of the mysteries. A few lines suffice for one, more is necessary for another. Some souls have a special attraction for one mystery—and we must take heed of disapproving of this—while others feel the need of following the liturgical cycle and uniting themselves even in private prayer, with its successive phases. In all this there is no law, no general system to be adopted; each must seek light from those who have mission and authority, and submit his drawings to them.

There is no need to vary the subjects of our prayer; we have found that the ancient Fathers thought that a single verse of a Psalm was sufficient to feed the soul for many years. St. Teresa suggests another very simple and profitable way of prayer: "You already know," she says, "that before beginning your prayer you must first of all examine your conscience, then say the Confiteor, and make the sign of the Cross. This being done try at once, my daughters, since you are alone to find a companion, but what companion is preferable to the Divine Master? . . . Think not that I ask you to make long meditations upon this Divine Saviour, to reason much, to produce great and subtle considerations; simply gaze at Him, if you can do no more keep for at least a few minutes the eye of your mind fixed upon your Spouse. Who can hinder this?"

The seraphic Mother suggests as a means for recollection the keeping a picture of our Lord before our eyes, or the reading a spiritual book in our own tongue; and elsewhere she observes: "The words of the Gospel always led me to recollection better than any other works, however well they might be written, especially when they were not by authors thoroughly approved, for then I felt no desire to read them."16 In point of fact the holy Scriptures will always have a special power to cleanse our souls, to nourish them and to raise them to God.

But, it will be said, does it not often happen that in spite of all efforts, in spite of all contrivances, the hour of prayer comes, and the soul is devoid of feeling and empty of thought? What use is there in continuing an exercise in which we are only wasting our time? Christian soul, this is a snare of the devil; the enemy of man dreads above all things fidelity in prayer, and he seeks by every possible means to discourage us from doing a work in which the very least particle of success is an immense gain. Our perseverance and assiduity in meditation, even in the midst of the aridities of which we are speaking, will always have the advantage of making us practise the humility of the Canaanitish woman who, when she was seemingly rejected by our Lord, cried out: "Yea, Lord; for the whelps also eat of the crumbs that fall from the table of their masters."17 Now, who can ever read without emotion the answer of the Lord, who had thus tried her: "O woman, great is thy faith; be it done to thee as thou wilt."18

May not then the King of heaven leave His servant at the gate of His palace without doing him an injustice, and are we right in at once forsaking the post assigned to us in order to undertake some other work of our own liking that we think more useful? The soldier on watch at the king's gate may neither read nor speak; he is under strict discipline, and seemingly inactive and useless. Round about him some are occupied in business, others in pleasure; and he has nothing to do but to play his profitless part. But his simple presence is a homage rendered to his sovereign. What would be said if, under the specious pretext that the king had never invited him into his presence, he were to refuse his service? Yet the humble sentinel of the King of heaven may hope that one day, even before eternity dawns, his patience and perseverance will touch the heart of the Divine Master and win the intimacy of his Lord.

Again we have heard reflections such as these: "But we see sometimes persons very regular in their mental prayer, and yet it is evident that even after years of fidelity they have made no progress beyond what is absolutely commonplace." Such an example proves too much, and therefore proves nothing; in the same way numbers of persons daily receive Holy Communion, and yet remain very imperfect. Can we on this account argue against the Holy Eucharist? The most powerful means of sanctification may through our own fault become sterile.

Meditation only does not make us perfect; still it is a means of withdrawing us from the life of the senses. But if we desire to advance in prayer we ought to join with it a generous struggle against our faults. We can scarcely conceive how much our progress in prayer depends upon our gaining of virtue; but we must add that meditation only will not suffice for everything. Some souls will never reach the perfection of virtue unless they seek strength in a higher kind of prayer. This is expressly pointed out in the Psalm lxxxiii: "Blessed is the man whose help is from Thee: in his heart he hath disposed to ascend by steps, in the vale of tears, in the place which he hath set. For the lawgiver shall give a blessing; they shall go from virtue to virtue."19

What we have said of meditation is almost superfluous here. Arguments are not needed when we speak to souls aspiring after contemplation, who, on that very account, cannot be faithful except on condition of living entirely by prayer and attention to divine things. Only let them consent from the beginning to make efforts and to be faithful, and a special grace, a particular help will soon raise them above themselves and free them, without much delay from the slow and painful ways of meditation.

Footnotes

  1. Nisi quod lex tua meditatio mea est, tunc forte periissem in humilitate mea (Ps. cxviii, 92). ↩

  2. Mirabilia testimonia tua; ideo scrutata est ea anima mea (Ibid., 129). ↩

  3. Prævenerunt oculi mei ad te diluculo, ut meditarer eloquia tua (Ps. cxviii, 148). ↩

  4. In lege ejus meditabitur die ac nocte . . . . et fructum suum dabit in tempore suo (Ps. i, 2, 3). ↩

  5. Hæc meditare, in his esto: ut profectus tuus manifestus sit omnibus (1 Tim., iv, 15). ↩

  6. Et egressus fuerat ad meditandum in agro, inclinata jam die (Gen., xxiv, 63). ↩

  7. Concaluit cor meum intra me, et in meditatione mea exardescet ignis (Ps., xxxviii, 4). ↩

  8. De Cain et Abel, lib. II, cap. vi. ↩

  9. St. Aug. In Ps., cxli. ↩

  10. Ibid., in Ps., lxxvi. ↩

  11. Cassian, Coll., x, cap. viii. ↩

  12. Cassian, Coll, xiv, cap. xiii. ↩

  13. Ibid., cap. xiv. ↩

  14. Tantummodo sedens contra Orientem respice, hunc sermonem solum frequenter iterans: Qui plasmasti me miserere mei (Vita S. Thaidis, cap. ii). ↩

  15. In multitudine negotiationis tuæ repleta sunt interiora tua iniquitate, et peccasti; et ejeci te de monte Dei (Ezeeh. xxviii, 16). ↩

  16. Way of Perfection, xxii. ↩

  17. Etiam, Domine: nam et catelli edunt de micis, quæ cadunt de mensa dominorum suorum (Matth. xv, 27). ↩

  18. O mulier, magna est fides tua: fiat tibi sicut vis (Ibid., 28). ↩

  19. Beatus vir, cujus est auxilium abs te, ascensiones in corde suo disposuit, in valle lacrymarum, in loco quem posuit. Etenim benedictionem dabit legislator, ibunt de virtute in virtutem (Ps., lxxxiii, 6, 7, 8). ↩

Chapter 12 of 24