3 — VOLUNTARY ATTACHMENTS

Presence of God. — O Lord, I place myself in Your presence, asking You to enlighten my soul, that I may see what obstacles stand in the way of my union with You.

Meditation

1 — “For the soul to come to perfect union with God through a will of love, it is above all necessary that it empty itself of every appetite of the will, however small” (A. I, 11, 3). In the language of St. John of the Cross, appetites are disordered inclinations or affections toward oneself or toward creatures, inclinations therefore, more or less according to their gravity, not conformed to the will of God, who wills that we love ourselves and all creatures in the measure marked by Him, always in order to Him, and not for our selfish satisfaction. When these inclinations or appetites are voluntarily indulged, even in slight things, they always give rise to venial sins or at least to deliberate imperfections. The soul that admits such faults voluntarily, however light, has its will stained by things contrary to the will of God, and therefore there can be no perfect union between its will and the will of God. And if these defective inclinations become habitual and the soul does not strive to correct them, then they constitute a greater obstacle to divine union; indeed, says the Saint, “they not only impede divine union, but also progress in perfection” (ibid.). He gives some examples of these unmortified “imperfect habits”: the habit of speaking too much, unrestrained curiosity, attachment to little things, such as objects, persons, certain foods, etc., which the soul does not decide to renounce; likewise attachment to personal comfort, to certain sensible satisfactions, to little vanities, to foolish self-complacency, to one’s own opinion and point of honor. It is a whole fungus-bed of “appetites,” of disordered inclinations from which the soul does not free itself, precisely because it is “attached” to that little selfish satisfaction it finds in these miseries; it is “attached” to it and therefore does not decide to renounce it altogether. These are precisely the “habitual voluntary appetites” of which St. John of the Cross says that “one single unmortified appetite is enough to impede the soul” (ibid.).

When, on the other hand, it is a matter of defective inclinations arising solely from human weakness and remaining at the level of “first movements,” in which the will has no part “neither before nor after,” but rather, as soon as it notices them, seeks to repress them, then these “do not prevent the attainment of divine union” (ibid., 2). It is the will that counts, and this must be wholly free of every least attachment.

2 — “If the soul has a habitual affection for any imperfection whatever, it meets a greater obstacle to growing in virtue than if it fell every day into many other occasional imperfections and venial sins that did not proceed from bad habit” (J.C. A. I, 11, 4). It is not so much the so-called sporadic falls of surprise or fragility that hold the soul back from progress, as the small, the very slight venial faults and even simple imperfections that come from habitual and voluntary attachments which the soul does not care to break completely. However small they are, they are always cords that bind it to earth. “What does it matter whether a little bird is tied by a thin thread rather than a thick one? However thin the thread, it remains true that the bird is tied and, until it breaks it, it will not be able to fly... So it happens with the soul that is united by affection to anything: even though furnished with many virtues, it will not reach the freedom of divine union” (ibid.).

Therefore, regarding renunciation, regarding detachment, St. John of the Cross has only one word: renounce everything, detach yourself from everything. If this seems too much to us, let us think that this is pure Gospel doctrine, nothing more than what Jesus proposes to us with His: “deny yourself” (Mt. 16, 24). With this word He asks us to deny ourselves not only in something, but in everything that can hinder us from following Him. “For whoever would save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it... Now, if your hand or your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off and cast it from you” (ibid., 16, 25; 18, 8). In this way Jesus teaches us that for the salvation and holiness of the soul, we must know how to renounce anything that may be a stumbling block to us, and that precisely in this profound denying and “losing” of ourselves in everything, even in the dearest things and even in earthly life, if necessary, lies the way of salvation and holiness.

Colloquy

“Late have I loved You, O Beauty ever ancient and ever new, late have I loved You. And behold, You were within me, and I was outside and sought You there, casting myself foully upon these beautiful things, which are nonetheless Your creatures. You were with me, and I was not with You; creatures held me far from You, creatures that, if they had no being in You, would not be at all. You called and cried out, until You broke my deafness. You flashed and shone, until You drove away my blindness. You spread Your fragrance, and I breathed it in and now I long for You. I tasted You, and now I hunger and thirst for You. You touched me, and I burn for desire of Your peace” (St. Augustine).

My God, give me light to recognize in myself all that prevents me from reaching You. Give me light to recognize all those attachments that still hold me prisoner of creatures and of myself; and above all those attachments that displease You most because they come directly from pride, from self-love. In the secrecy of the heart, You instruct me with gentleness and sweetness and show me clearly that I am still far from having my will in everything and through everything conformed to Yours. I love and will so many little things, so many imperfections that You absolutely cannot love nor will, because they are contrary to Your infinite perfection. Give me strength to begin against them a courageous and constant struggle. You know it, O Lord, that I have immense need of Your help, because I am too attached to myself to be capable of fighting my disordered affections, of renouncing so many little satisfactions of which my selfishness is avid. I love myself too much to take from myself what separates me from You. Behold, O Lord, I present myself to You as the sick man to the surgeon: plunge the iron into my soul, plunge it as deeply as is necessary to tear from it all that does not please You and that You cannot will in me.