Letter I

Letter I

To Madame Laurence de Budos,(2) Abbess of Holy Trinity Monastery(3)

at Caen. On the death of her brother, Anthony Hercules de Budos, (4)

killed at the siege of Privas.(5)'

[1629]

Live Jesus and Mary

Madame, May the grace, peace and consolation of Our Lord Jesus Christ and His most Holy Mother be with you for ever.

I must and I wish to adore with you the most holy and amiable will of God in the affliction i t has pleased Him to send you. I must and I wish to cherish and love His eminently just and amiable hand which has dealt your soul such a harsh blow and pierced your heart with so bloody a wound, since that divine hand does nothing save through love of self and its creatures whom it seems to love even as itself.

Nevertheless, I must confess that my soul is filled with sadness and my heart with anguish at the thought of your agony. I cannot think of (1). The purpose of these foonotes is to identify persons to whom the letters are addressed or to whom reference is made. Historical and theological terms are also elucidated and brief annotations are added on geographical names unfamiliar to the average English-speaking reader. The chief source books of Eudistic data used in the preparation of this edition are: Ch. de Montzey, Father Eudes (London, 1874); D. Boulay, Vie du Vénérable Jean Eudes (Paris, 1908), a very elaborate biography in four large volumes; Matthew Russell, S.J., The Life of Blessed John Eudes (London, 1 9 0 9 ) ; Oeuvres Complètes du Bienheureux Jean Eudes (Vannes, 1910); P. Costil, Annales de la Congrégation de Jésus et Marie and Les Fleurs de la Congrégation de Jésus et Marie, two unpublished mimeographed volumes; J. M. Ory, The Origin of the Order of Our Lady of Charity (Buffalo, 1918); H. Joly, Life of Saint John Eudes (London, 1932); E. Georges, Saint Jean Eudes (Paris, 1936).

you, nor of your piteous state, without pain and tears; that, I believe, is permitted me. I see Jesus, the joy of heaven and earth, giving way to profound grief at the sight of the tears of Martha and Magdalen, who were weeping for the death of their brother!(6) Why, then, may I not weep on a similar occasion? I wish to weep with Jesus, that I may honor His tears. I wish to weep with all who mourn, according to the words of the Apostle St. Paul: "Weep with them that weep."(7) I wish to weep from the same emotions and sentiments as Jesus wept. I wish to offer Him a sacrifice of tears i n homage to His divine and adorable tears. Let us, Madame, offer Him our tears in honor of His. Let us implore Him to sanctify and bless them through His. Let us beseech Him to unite our grief with His own in such a way that the tears Rowing from our eyes may be mingled with those celestial waters of which the Prophet David says: "Let all the waters that are above the heavens, praise the name of the Lord." (8)

Madame, would you have your tears united with those sacred waters which unceasingly bless God in heaven? Then weep holily and religiously, that is to say, shed tears worthy of a religious and of one who is in a state obligating her to holiness. Let your eyes weep, but let your will be submissive to the will of God. Let your eyes weep, but let (2). Madame Laurence de Budos, daughter of Viscount de Portes, belonged to one of the most illustrious families of France. When she became abbess of Holy Trinity Monastery at Caen, she found the house without enclosure, common life, regular religious dress, and scarcely any observance of the rule. All these irregularities she eventually remedied by her patience, meekness, and good example. St. John Eudes met the Abbess of Holy Trinity when he was a young Oratorian at Caen. Madame de Budos recognizing the profound wisdom and great prudence of the Saint, placed herself and her religious under his guidance. She died at Caen in the odor of sanctity on June 23, 1650. Cf. D. Boulay, Vie du Vénérable Jean Eudes, Vol. 1, p. 275; H. Joly, Life of Saint John Eudes, PP. 34 and 42; E. Georges, Saint Jean Eudes, p. 29. (3). A Benedictine monastery founded by Matilda of Flanders, wife of William the Conqueror. Only a lady of noble blood could hold the office of abbess. Cf. Boulay, op. cit., Vol. 1, 274. (4)Vice-Admiral of France. Cf. Boulay, ibid., P. 275. (5). Huguenot stronghold in Longuedoc, southwestern France. The siege and capture of Privas i n 1629 was the final episode of the religious wars during the reign of Louis X111. (6). John 11, 35. V (7). ROM. 12, 15. (8). Ps. 148, 4-5

your heart and lips frequently repeat these divine words uttered by Jesus at the height of His anguish, and in a distress infinitely more poignant than your own: 0 my Father and my God, "not m y will, but Thine be done." (9) In short, weep patiently and moderately, not excessively and without restraint.

Blessed are your tears if they are shed in this manner, for they will deserve to be dried by the hand of God Himself, according to this passage from Sacred Scripture: "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." (10) They will be carefully gathered by the hands of the angels. They will be cherished like a precious liquid that perfumes heaven and renders eternal praise to God. if, on the contrary, they were not accompanied by these dispositions, they would be very displeasing to God and His angels and would serve only to make the flames of purgatory more painful for you. I implore Our Lord Jesus not to permit such a thing. I should gladly entreat Him, if it were possible, to transfer all the anguish in your soul to me, so that not only might I share your pain and sorrow, but even bear alone the weight of this affliction. Yet it is so heavy that only Our Lord can support it.

I beseech Him, then, to dwell in your soul, to enter into your heart, that He Himself may bear within you this painful cross which He has ordained to be yours. The Prophet Isaias tells us that Christ came into the world to share the burden of our sorrows and infirmities(11). Indeed, Our Blessed Lord once experienced the same sorrow you are suffering now, a sorrow which for Him was infinitely more bitter and painful than yours is for you. The anguish you feel at this moment was one of die causes of the anguish He suffered in the Garden of Gethsemani, making Him sweat blood and utter these sorrowful words: "My soul is sorrowful even unto death." (12) It was not only the sight of the pains He was to suffer in His own body which wrung these words from His lips, but also the clear knowledge He possessed at the time of all the afflictions, those of the body as well as the spirit , which His beloved children were to undergo. He saw even then the grief (9). Luke 22, 42.

(10). Apoc. 7, 17

(11). Isa. 53, 4. (12). Matt. 26, 38.

which oppresses you at this moment. He behold your tears, He heard your laments and sighs; and all these sighs and complaints were as so many sharp and piercing arrows which transfixed His Heart with grief because of the infinite love He bears you, just as the complaints and sorrows of a child dear to his father are like painful shafts in the heart of that poor parent when he beholds the suffering of his beloved offspring.

Jesus, therefore, Who is your Father and Spouse, felt in His paternal Heart the same affliction which fills yours at the present time. For that reason it should seem sweet and soothing to you, since it has passed through a Heart so full of love and meekness. I repeat that He once bore the same affliction that you bear. He bore it without your help and for your sake; yet He still wishes to bear it now in you and with you. Admit Him, then, into your soul. Do not let yourself become so taken up with grief that you leave no place in your heart for Him Who is your joy, your consolation and your all.

I see Him knocking at the door of your heart and waiting there with His own Heart and hands full of ineffable graces, blessings and comforts which He yearns to bestow upon you.

I hear Him saying to you in a kind and gentle voice: "Open to me, my dearly beloved sister, open to me the door of your heart." It is open to Thee; enter, 0 good Jesus, enter this poor heart. It i s open to Thee; of that I am certain. Could it be possible that this soul would be so unfaithful as to refuse Thee admittance into her heart, allowing herself to be fully possessed by a futile and pernicious sadness? No, no, I do not think so. Enter, therefore, 0 God of love and comfort, into this heart crucified by grief, that it may be filled with love and consolation. Rid it of sadness and weariness and fill it with that strong and vigorous love through which Thou didst bear with strength and constancy the sorrows and agonies of the Cross and death.

Madame, behold then Jesus within your heart. He is there with the desire to bear with you the harshness of your trial, but He neither can nor wishes to bear it without you. Therefore unite yourself with Him, that you may bear your sorrow with Him. Unite your spirit with His spirit, your heart with His Heart and your will with His will.

Bear it holily, as He bore it holily and divinely; bear it strongly and courageously, as He bore i t strongly and courageously.

To this end, I beg of you in His name to divert your mind from all considerations which sadden you, that you may devote it to better and holier thoughts. Consider the most holy will of God. Remember that this divine will is very worthy, excellent, powerful and absolutely sovereign in all things, is very just and equitable, very happy and joyous in all it does, and is very wise and prudent in all it ordains. All these points regarding that divine will are most worthy of consideration, and i t seems to me that the purest, holiest and most perfect consolation I can give you should be drawn from these holy and divine considerations, and not at all from shallow and earthly thoughts, since I am addressing a person who has renounced everything shallow and earthly in the world in order to be professed in a holy and heavenly life.

Therefore consider, Madame, that the will of God is immense, that is, it reaches everywhere, arranging and ordaining everything that takes place in this world. That is why nothing happens by chance, nor by luck or accident; all things occur through the guidance and will of God.

Consider that the divine will alone is worthy of existence, continuance and accomplishment because of its infinite excellence and dignity; then let every other will be annihilated in the face of this one. Consider that it alone is worthy of reigning by reason of its sovereignty; then let every other will become submissive to its reign, not through compulsion, as in the case of the demons, but voluntarily, as with the angels. Consider that it is most just and equitable in itself and all its effects; then let all other wills acquiesce and conform to its decrees, as being eminently just and equitable. Consider that it is most sweet and amiable, doing all things through love of self and us; then let it be loved and cherished at least by those who have renounced love of the world to consecrate themselves to God. Consider that the divine will does all things with happiness and rejoicing; then let it be praised and blessed with happiness and rejoicing in all its manifestations, banishing all excessive sadness. Finally, consider that it does all things for the best, in the best possible way, at the most propitious time and place; then let

it be adored and glorified in all the conditions and circumstances in which it accomplishes its work.

Thus, Madame, do the angels and saints look upon and adore the most adorable will of God i n heaven. Think how many saints there are in heaven who see their fathers, mothers, brothers and other relatives in the damnation of hell, which is the misfortune of misfortunes and the height of all woes; and notwithstanding, they adore, they love, they bless with joy and happiness that most just will because they see that such is the decree of divine justice concerning these relatives.

There is nothing like that in your case, thank God. The misfortune in which you have to adore the will of God is infinitely less grievous and bitter. Indeed, it is but honey and sweetness i n comparison with the other sorrow. In that case it is a question of an eternal death, a terrible and fearful death; here it is a matter only of a temporal death which must not even be called death, but rather the passing from a mortal and unhappy life to an immortal and happy one. Then adore, on this occasion so sweet and benign to one who understands it welladore, I repeat, and love and bless the most sweet and amiable will of God on earth, as the saints adore and bless it in heaven.

I do not doubt in the least that you are doing this. If you did not, how could you dare hope one day to be united with the saints in heaven, since one must do on earth what they do in heaven? If you did not imitate them, how could you dare say these words which you address to God so many times each day: "Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven?" (13) Would you not fear that the Son of God might make the same terrible reproach to you that He once made to the hypocritical Pharisees: "Hypocrites, well hath Isaias prophesied of you, saying: This people honoureth me with their lips; but their heart is far from me?" (14)They pray with their mouths that my will may be done on earth as it is i n heaven, but their hearts belie their tongues; their works are contrary to their words.

God forbid, Madame, that that should ever be said of you! Strive rather to be numbered among those who are referred to in the magnificent words which the Church so often puts on your lips: "To the (13). Matt 6, 10. (14). Matt 15, 7.

saints, who are in his land, he hath made wonderful all my desires in them." (15) It is Jesus Who speaks, through David His Prophet, of His Eternal Father and His saints. "My Father," He says, "hath transmitted all my wonderfully admirable intents to the saints who arc on earth." You are in the world of the saints, you arc in a place of holiness; there should be no one in that place who is not a saint or inclined to saintliness. Therefore you should regard all the decrees of Jesus, whatever they may be, the most severe as well as the most delightful, as being equally wonderful, admirable and pleasant; let them all be wonderfully pleasant, dear and precious to you, and more precious than anything else in heaven and on earth. You can then say with your heart what you utter each day with your lips: "The law of thy mouth is good to me, above thousands of gold and silver;" (16) that is, M y God, Thy will is dearer and more precious to me than not only millions in gold and silver, but even millions of brothers, relatives and friends if I had them. I should rather be deprived of a hundred brothers than that Thou shouldst be deprived of the accomplishment of the least of Thy desires.

By taking this attitude, Madame, you will deserve to be numbered among those who are meant in these words: "To the saints who arc in his land . . ."(17) Therein is the epitome of true holiness, which is wholehearted submission to the will of God in all things.

As far as I can see, there could be no better opportunity for you to advance in grace and holiness. How dear and precious should be this hour of affliction! It is a time of grace and holiness. God at this moment has an infinite number of graces and blessings to bestow on you if you will but prepare yourself to receive them through the humble submission of your will to His. You can advance farther in grace in one hour during this time of affliction than in many days during a time of consolation. It is what Jesus intends for you now. He has an infinite desire to produce various effects of grace and sanctity in your soul through the medium of this trial which He has sent you. Do not suffer Him to be deprived of the effect of His desire; do not allow Him to be thwarted in His intention; and, what is still more important, do not (15). Ps 15, 3 (16). Ps. 118,72. (17). Ps. 15, 3

deprive Him of the love and glory you can bring Him at this time. You have protested so often to Him that you want only to love and honor Him. Now, you will never be able to love Him more perfectly o r honor Him more holily than at this moment. You can, in this hour of affliction, offer Him more glory and love in a single moment than in several days during a time of consolation. Do not deprive Him, then, of something so tremendous which you can and ought to give Him effortlessly by submitting your will to His. It is true that this is not easy for human nature, but it is easy with the help of the grace which is given you to do so. It will be easy for you if you remember that the severest and most terrible command that God ever had or ever will have was that by which He willed that His Son, His only Son, a Son such as Jesus is-He willed, I repeat, that this Son suffer inconceivably cruel and horrible torments; not only that He suffer them but that He die the most shameful and atroclous death of all possible deaths!

Oh, how severe is this will of a Father regarding His Son! How strange and terrible it is! Yet this same Son, Who is Jesus, in some way abandons and annihilates His own will, all-pure, all - holy and alldivine that it is, so that He may conform to His Father's will, so full of harshness and terror for Him that the very thought of it makes Him sweat blood. Therefore if Jesus somehow abandoned and annihilated a will as worthy and precious as was His human will, is it not highly reasonable, Madame, that we should forsake and destroy a will as impure, imperfect and corrupted by sin as ours is, so that we may accept the most holy, divine and amiable will of God?

But let me pause now, for I hear a voice more capable than mine of consoling you. It is the voice of him whom you mourn as dead, who nevertheless is not really dead. It is the voice of your beloved brother who says to you: "Why do you weep so, my dearly beloved sister? Is it because they told you I am dead? But no, that is not true; I am not dead but living, and more alive than ever before. I am not dead but living in God, in Whom all things live. Those are the first words of the Office which was sung for me: "Come, let us adore the King to whom all things live." I am not dead, but rather I have ceased dying that I may begin to live. Do you not know that life on earth is a life of death? It is a living death and a dying life; a life which should rather be

called death and not life; an earthly life, an imperfect life, a sinful life. Will you say then that I am dead because I have left that miserable existence to participate in a heavenly life, a perfect life, an eternal and happy life? Do you not know that only the thoughtless and insane consider the faithful departed to be dead? No indeed, they are not dead. Those who die in Jesus Christ, that is, in His grace and love, do not die at all but pass from a most troublesome to a supremely happy life; and much less do they die who give their lives for the interests and glory of Jesus Christ.

"If I had died as a pagan, a heretic or an apostate, you would have reason indeed to weep. If I had died in a duel in defense of my honor and my private interests, I would say to you: Weep, weep, burst into tears, tears of blood; for those are the persons who are really dead, those who die in that way. It is for such a death that one must shed tears, and tears of blood. But look! I died in an army which fights the battle of God and His interests.(18) I died for the glory of Jesus Christ, for the defense of His Church and the establishment of His faith and Gospel! Is this not a happy death? Is i t not a glorious one? Is it not worthy of gladness and rejoicing rather than tears and weeping? Does i t not detract from the glory and dignity of such a death to deplore and lament, as if it were the most wretched death in the world?

"Why, then, my dear sister, do you grieve so? Is it because you will no longer see me on earth? But take comfort, for we shall meet in heaven, and very shortly. And I, while awaiting this happiness during your sojourn on earth, will always have you before my eyes, to help you in all your needs and wants at the throne of the King of heaven, with Whom I enjoy no less favor than I did with the King of earth. Cease, then, my beloved sister, cease, I beg of you, your grieving. Banish your sorrow, moderate your sighs, arrest the flow of your tears which henceforth would be injurious and unpleasant to me, insofar as it would offend Him Whom I love more than myself." Those are the words and the voice of your beloved brother, Madame, which should console you greatly if you are at all capable of being comforted.

But I hear still another voice which comes to comfort you; the voice (18). Anthony de Budos fought in Richelieu's army against the Protestant Duke of Rohan.

of your dear Spouse, Madame. It is the voice of Jesus, the God of all consolation, which alone can give you perfect comfort. Please listen to it, therefore, and in order better to hear it, close your cars to all the voices of human nature, passion and self-interest which arc wholly contrary to the voice of Jesus. Here, then, is Jesus addressing you:

"What is the matter, my dear daughter? What grieves you so? Yes, your brother is dead, it i s true, but it was I who ordained his death, and who ordained it through love of you and of him, for your greatest good and for his. Should not that alone suffice to comfort you? Should not the sole consideration of my most amiable will console and satisfy you? Have I not enough enemies who persecute and make war on in(!, opposing all my desires and intents? Do you wish to forsake me to take your place in their ranks? Do you wish to be numbered among those who desire to destroy and annihilate my most holy will, that they may supplant it with their own? Do you wish to deprive m y sovereign will of the empire and domain it must exercise over all things, that you may superimpose your own will?

"I have deprived you for a little while of the presence of your brother, but am I not always with you? I am your best friend, your father, your brother, your spouse and your all; I am worth more than ten, yes, than ten million brothers; I love you with an infinite love; I am all heart and love for you; I have infinite power to help you in all your wants and needs and to defend you against your adversaries, or rather against mine? Those who oppose you oppose me; those who are your enemies are my enemies, provided you remain always united with me.

"Furthermore, I have taken your brother from you, not, however, to deprive you of him, but in order to return him to you in a better way. Do you not know that I repay a hundredfold all that i s willingly given me? I have taken him in order to oblige you to give him to me, and if you relinquish him voluntarily and gladly, I will make it up to you a hundred times over, even in this life. I will give you a hundredfold all the help, comfort and favors you would have received from him, and thus you will lose nothing but gain much.

"Then give him to me, my daughter; give him willingly to me. Will you refuse me such alittle thing-me, the one who has given and who gives you so much each day? Will you refuse me the life of a

mortal man, when I have given my own life for you-a life so precious and worthy that a single moment of it is worth more than all the lives of the angels and of men? Give him to me, then, voluntarily, and not through compulsion and necessity, and I will return it all to you a hundredfold.

"And do not proceed to fill your mind with useless thoughts and cares, saying within yourself: But what will become of this one and that one? What about these persons and those persons? Who will provide for the concerns of this house and that house? After all, where is the confidence you ought to have in my providence and goodness? Do I not love more than you those persons for whom you are so troubled? I am well aware of their needs. Is not mine the power to attend in the best possible way to all the things that concern them?

"With regard to your house, which causes you so much anxiety, and rightly so, know that it i s more mine than yours, and that I do not lack the will and the might to direct wisely and advantageously ail matters which pertain to it.

"Therefore, my beloved daughter, rid your mind of these trifling cares, relinquishing all things to my bounty and providence. Banish, too, every other thought and consideration which serves only to fill your soul with trouble and your heart with anguish. Put an end to your tears; enough of weeping and lamenting, enough of sobbing, enough of yielding to sorrow and sadness. It is time to dry your tears so that you may devote yourself to things more holy and more worthy of your state in life. It is time for your soul to return to its former tranquility and peace. It is time to give your sisters and all who know you the comfort and edification you owe them. It is time to render me the duties and obligations of the state in life in which I have placed you. Otherwise there would be reason to believe that you loved your brother more than me, and yet you know that I have said: 'He that loveth father o r mother (brother or sister) more than me, is not worthy of me."(19) Would you not fear that these words might be true of you? Would you not be afraid of making yourself unworthy of me if you persevered in your excess of sadness and tears? Would you not be fearful of giving scandal to so many persons in every walk of life whose eyes are upon (19). Matt 10, 37

you and who expect from you a courage and constancy worthy of your position?

"What would worldlings and laymen say if they saw that a person who has taught others about virtue and holiness for so many years had not yet learned to submit herself to my will, which is the foundation of all virtue and holiness? Would you not be giving them cause to despise the vocation and Order(20) in which you live, which would have done so little for your improvement during such a long ~me? No, my daughter, do not lower the dignity of your position; do not vitiate the holiness of your Order; do not wrong the virtue and power of my grace. Conduct yourself in such a way, in all your actions and feelings, in your speech and exterior deportment, that people may see nothing in you and hear no word from you that would be unworthy of the dignity of your rank, the sublimity of your vocation, the glory of your Order, or the holiness and excellence of my grace and love which dwell within you." Madame, after these divine words of Jesus, your divine Spouse, there is nothing more for me to say. Only I implore the Mother of Jesus to implant the words of her Son deep in your heart. I beseech this Mother of grace and love, this Mother of all consolation, to fill your heart with her divine consolations and let you participate in the grace and love by virtue of which she bore unceasingly and courageously the most terrible wound inflicted by that sword of sorrow which pierced her soul, at the time of the Passion and death of her only and well-beloved Son.

I am writing you these words in anticipation of speaking personally to you, as soon as your time is less taken up with the many visits of condolence that you will receive.

I remain in Jesus and Mary, Madame, Your most humble, obedient and devoted servant, JOHN EUDES, priest of the Oratory of Jesus.

(20). Madame de Budos belonged to the Order of St. Benedict.