43 — HUMBLE AND REVERENT LOVE

Presence of God. — O God, who are so great, deign to raise up to You my soul so small and miserable.

Meditation

1 — The love that boldly spurs the soul to the conquest of divine union is, at the same time, full of reverence and of respect, since far more than before the soul intuits how sublime and exalted is the Majesty of God. If, on one side, love renders it impatient to unite with Him, on the other the continuous and clear awareness of its misery renders it more than ever solicitous in watching itself attentively that in its conduct there be nothing that can displease so exalted a Majesty.

“The soul — says the Mystical Doctor — soon sees in itself a true and efficacious determination not to do what it understands to be an offense of God, nor to omit any thing that regards His service... It nourishes a thought most vigilant and solicitous of what it must do or leave to please the Lord, examining and scrutinizing itself a thousand times to see if ever in some way it has offended Him” (N. II, 16, 14). Evidently it is a question here of something far superior to the simple flight from sin, it is a question of the firm resolution to flee any imperfection, omission or negligence adverted and since the soul knows by experience that, despite all its good will, many of such failings may still escape it through distraction or through frailty, it wishes to intensify its vigilance to avoid as much as possible even these.

It is a solicitude that derives from love and not from scruple, true loving solicitude similar to that which made St. Teresa Margaret of the Heart of Jesus continually repeat: “Now what am I doing in this action? Am I loving my God?” (Sp. p. 323), or to that which the Blessed Angela of Foligno expressed with the fiery expression: “See, O Lord, if in me there is any other thing that is not love!”.

If you wish a sure sign of your love for God, look how firm you are in the purpose of fleeing every least thing that displeases Him; it must be a purpose so rooted in your will that not only is it continually present to you — as are the things that truly concern you — but is also valid to restrain you from every imperfection as soon as you advert it. This is absolutely indispensable because, as St. John of the Cross teaches, “in order that the soul may come to be united perfectly with God by will and by love... it is required that it consent not with knowledge and advertence to any imperfection, and that it also have the power and liberty not to consent to it while it adverts it” (S. I, 11, 3).

2 — The knowledge of its own baseness keeps the soul humble in its love, chasing from it every presumption. Far from counting on its merits and on its good works it sees clearly that, whatever it does, all is nothing in comparison to the exalted majesty of God, “consequently it reputes itself useless in all that it does, and it seems to itself to live in vain” (G.C. N. II, 19, 3). The words of the Gospel: “we are unprofitable servants” (Lk. 17, 10) are for it of a living actuality and express very well its habitual state of soul. Too great is the light that the Holy Spirit infuses in it to fall into any illusion concerning its value or to vaunt itself of its works. But, rather, “with great persuasion it judges itself worse than all: first, because love teaches it what God merits; second, because being many the works it does in His service and knowing them defective and imperfect, from all it draws supreme confusion and pain, and understands that its low manner of proceeding is too unworthy of so high a Lord” (G.C. N. II, 19, 3). It is beautiful to consider how this profound humility is not only fruit of light, but also of love: love makes it so appreciate God that, although ardently desiring to possess Him, it is profoundly persuaded of being totally incapable of reaching Him. On the other hand, although humble and reverent, love maintains its characteristic boldness and does not cease to aspire to divine union. Precisely in this sense St. Teresa of the Child Jesus wrote: “Despite my weakness I dare to fix the divine Sun, the Sun of Love”; the Saint, who with all simplicity compared herself to a little bird of first feather incapable of taking flight, sees well that alone it will never be able to elevate itself so high and nevertheless does not lose its hopes. If it cannot count on its own forces, it knows it can count on the love of Jesus, divine Word, who became incarnate precisely to come in search of us, poor sinners, who “willed to suffer and die to attract souls to the center of the eternal Hearth of the blessed Trinity.” The Saint is confident that one day Jesus will be moved by her weakness and will come down upon her to make her His “prey”: “One day, I hope, You will come to seek Your little bird and, remounting with it to the Hearth of Love, will immerse it for eternity in the eternal Abyss of this Love” (Lt. 175).

Yes, Jesus is ready to come to meet all souls of good will, is ready to come to meet even your soul to raise it to the longed-for union, but He wishes that you know how to await Him with fidelity in generous and full dedication to His service.

Colloquy

“O divine Word, You are the adored Eagle that I love and that attracts me. You who, launching Yourself toward the earth of exile, willed to suffer and die to attract souls to the center of the eternal Hearth of the blessed Trinity. You who, remounting toward the inaccessible Light that will be henceforth Your dwelling, remain still in the appearance of a white host... Eternal Eagle, You wish to nourish with Your divine substance me, poor little being, who would return to nothingness if Your divine gaze did not give me life at every instant...

“O Jesus, let me in the excess of my gratitude, tell You how Your love pushes even to folly! How before this folly could my heart not launch itself toward You? How could my confidence ever have limits?...

“Ah! for You, I know it, even the saints have committed follies, have operated great things, because they were eagles... Jesus, I am too little to do great things and my folly consists in hoping that Your love will accept me as victim.

“Thus as long as You will, O my Beloved, Your little bird will remain without strength and without wings; always will it dry its eyes fixed on You: it wishes to be fascinated by Your divine gaze, wishes to become prey of Your love. One day, I hope, adored Eagle, You will come to seek Your little bird and, remounting with it to the Hearth of Love, will immerse it for eternity in the eternal abyss of this Love to which it has offered itself victim” (T.B.G. Lt. 175).