Chapter VIII

Caritas non agit perperam.

He who loves Jesus Christ flees lukewarmness and loves perfection, the means to which are: 1. Desire. 2. Resolution. 3. Mental prayer. 4. Communion. 5. Prayer.

St. Gregory, explaining this passage, non agit perperam (I Cor. XIII, 4), says that charity, devoting itself ever more to the sole love of God, does not know how to admit what is not in conformity with what is right and holy: Quia caritas quae se in solum Dei amorem dilatat, quidquid a rectitudine discrepat ignorat. This the Apostle had already written, saying that charity is a bond that binds together in the soul the most perfect virtues: Caritatem habete, quod est vinculum perfectionis (Coloss. III, 14). And since charity loves perfection, it consequently abhors the lukewarmness with which some serve God, at great risk of losing charity, divine grace, their soul, and everything.

We must note, however, that there are two kinds of lukewarmness: one unavoidable and the other avoidable. The unavoidable kind is that from which not even the saints are exempt, and this includes all the faults we commit without full consent, but only through our natural frailty. Such are distractions in prayer, interior disturbances, idle words, vain curiosity, desires to be noticed, pleasures in eating or drinking, movements of concupiscence not immediately repressed, and the like. We must avoid these faults as much as we can; but, because of the weakness of our nature infected by sin, it is impossible to avoid them all. We must indeed detest them after committing them, because they displease God; but, as we noted in the preceding chapter, we must be careful not to become disturbed over them. St. Francis de Sales wrote: "All those thoughts that cause us anxiety do not come from God, who is the prince of peace, but always proceed either from the devil, or from self-love, or from the esteem we have of ourselves."

Such thoughts, therefore, that disturb us must be immediately rejected and disregarded. The same saint says that indeliberate faults, as they are committed involuntarily, are also involuntarily cancelled. A single act of sorrow, a single act of love, suffices to cancel them. The Venerable Sister Maria Crocifissa, a Benedictine, once saw a globe of fire upon which many bits of straw were thrown, and she observed that all of them were reduced to ashes. She was given to understand by this figure that one fervent act of divine love destroys all the faults we have in our soul. The same effect is produced by Holy Communion, according to what we read in the Council of Trent (Sess. XIII, c. 2), where the Eucharist is called antidotum quo liberamur a culpis quotidianis. So these faults are indeed faults, but they do not impede perfection — that is, the journey toward perfection — since in this life no one arrives at perfection before reaching the blessed kingdom.

The lukewarmness that impedes perfection is the avoidable kind, when a person commits deliberate venial sins; for all these faults committed with open eyes can indeed be avoided by divine grace, even in our present state. Hence St. Teresa said: "From an advertent sin, however small it may be, God deliver you." Such are, for example, voluntary lies, petty gossip, imprecations, resentful words, mockery of one's neighbor, stinging remarks, conversations about one's own importance, grudges nourished in the heart, and disordered affections for persons of the opposite sex. "These are certain worms," wrote St. Teresa, "that do not let themselves be known until they have gnawed away the virtues." And the saint warned elsewhere: "Through small things the devil goes making holes through which great things enter."

We must therefore tremble at these deliberate faults, for on their account God restricts his hand from giving clearer lights and stronger helps, and deprives us of spiritual sweetness; and from this it follows that the soul performs spiritual things with great weariness and difficulty, and so begins to abandon prayer, Communion, visits to the Blessed Sacrament, and novenas; and in the end it will easily abandon everything, as has happened not rarely to many unhappy souls.

This is the meaning of the threat the Lord makes to the lukewarm: Neque frigidus es, neque calidus: utinam frigidus esses, etc.: sed quia tepidus es... incipiam te evomere (Apoc. III, 15, 16). A great thing! He says: Utinam frigidus esses! How? Is it better to be cold — that is, deprived of grace — than lukewarm? Yes, in a certain sense it is better to be cold, because the cold person can more easily amend, shaken by the remorse of conscience; but the lukewarm person grows accustomed to sleeping in his faults without troubling himself over them and without thinking of amending, and so his cure becomes almost hopeless. Tepor, writes St. Gregory, qui a fervore defecit in desperatione est. The Venerable Father Louis de Ponte used to say that he had committed innumerable faults in his life, but that he had never made peace with his faults. Some people make peace with their faults, and from this comes their ruin; especially when the fault involves an attachment to some passion — self-esteem, the desire to be noticed, accumulating money, resentment toward a neighbor, or a disordered affection for a person of the opposite sex. Then there is great danger that the threads will become, as St. Francis of Assisi said, chains dragging that soul to hell. At the very least, that soul will never become holy and will lose the great crown God was preparing for it, had it been faithful to grace. When a bird is free from every snare it immediately flies: the soul, when freed from every earthly attachment, immediately flies to God; but if it remains bound, even a single thread will suffice to prevent it from walking toward God. Oh, how many spiritual persons fail to become saints because they do not make the effort to free themselves from certain petty attachments!

All the damage comes from the little love borne to Jesus Christ. Those who are swollen with self-esteem; those who often grieve over events contrary to their wishes; who are very indulgent toward themselves out of concern for their health; who keep their hearts open to external objects and their minds always distracted, with an eagerness to hear and know so many things that have nothing to do with the divine service, but only with satisfying their own fancy; those who take offense at every slight inattention they think they have received from someone — from which it follows that they are often disturbed and neglect their prayer or recollection: now all devout and jubilant, now all impatient and gloomy, according as things happen to suit or to contradict their mood — these people do not love, or love very little, Jesus Christ, and they bring discredit upon true devotion.

But what is someone to do who finds himself fallen into this miserable state of lukewarmness? It is true that it is very difficult to see a lukewarm soul recover its former fervor; but the Lord said that what men cannot do, God can do: Quae impossibilia sunt apud homines, possibilia sunt apud Deum (Luc. XVIII, 27). He who prays and takes the means will indeed attain all that he desires. Five are the means for escaping lukewarmness and setting out on the path of perfection:

1. The desire for perfection.

2. The resolution to attain it.

3. Mental prayer.

4. Frequent Communion.

5. Prayer.

The first means, then, is the desire for perfection.

Holy desires are the wings that lift us from the earth; for, as St. Lawrence Justinian says, holy desire vires subministrat, poenam exhibet leviorem: on the one hand it gives strength to walk toward perfection, and on the other it lightens the pain of the journey. He who truly desires perfection never ceases to advance in it; and if he does not cease, he will finally arrive. On the other hand, he who does not desire it will always go backward and will always find himself more imperfect than before. St. Augustine says that on the road to God, not to advance is to go backward: Non progredi reverti est. He who does not make an effort to go forward will always find himself falling behind, carried along by the current of our corrupt nature.

It is a great error, then, for some to say: God does not want everyone to be a saint. No, says St. Paul: Haec est... voluntas Dei, sanctificatio vestra (I Thess. IV, 3). God wants everyone to be a saint, each in his own state: the religious as a religious, the layperson as a layperson, the priest as a priest, the married person as married, the merchant as a merchant, the soldier as a soldier, and so for every other state. Exceedingly beautiful are the teachings that my great advocate St. Teresa gives on this subject. In one place she says: "Let our thoughts be great, for from this will come our good." In another place she says: "We must not diminish our desires, but trust in God, for by striving, little by little we can arrive where, with divine grace, many saints have arrived." And in confirmation of this she testified from experience that courageous persons had in a short time made great progress: "For," she said, "the Lord is so pleased with our desires that he accepts them as if they were already carried out." In another place she says: "God does not grant many extraordinary favors except to those who have greatly desired his love." And in yet another place: "God never fails to repay every good desire in this life, for he is a friend of generous souls, provided they go forward distrusting themselves." Of such a generous spirit was the saint herself endowed; so much so that she once said to the Lord that if in paradise she were to see others enjoying more than she, that would not matter to her; but if she were to see anyone loving him more than she did, she said she did not know how she could bear it.

We must therefore take great courage: Bonus est Dominus... animae quarenti illum (Thren. III, 25). God is exceedingly good and generous with those who seek him with their whole heart. Nor can the sins we have committed prevent us from becoming saints, if we truly desire to become saints. St. Teresa warns: "The devil tries to make it seem like pride to have great desires and to wish to imitate the saints; but it is very helpful to take courage for great things, for although the soul may not have the strength at once, it makes a generous flight and advances far." The Apostle writes: Diligentibus Deum omnia cooperantur in bonum (Rom. VIII, 28). The gloss adds: etiam peccata. Even the sins we have committed can cooperate in our sanctification, insofar as the memory of them renders us more humble and more grateful, seeing the favors God bestows on us after we have so greatly offended him. I can do nothing, the sinner must say, nor do I deserve anything; I deserve nothing but hell; but I am dealing with a God of infinite goodness who has promised to hear everyone who prays to him. Now, since he has delivered me from the state of damnation and wants me to become a saint, and already offers me his help, I can indeed become a saint — not by my own strength, but by the grace of my God who strengthens me: Omnia possum in eo qui me confortat (Phil. IV, 13). When we have good desires, then, we must take courage and, trusting in God, seek to carry them out; but if we then find obstacles in some spiritual undertaking, let us rest in the divine will. The will of God must be preferred to every good desire of our own. St. Mary Magdalene de' Pazzi would rather have remained deprived of every perfection than possess it without the will of God.

The second means to perfection is the resolution to give oneself entirely to God.

Many are called to perfection, are urged toward it by grace, and acquire the desire for it; but because they never resolve, they live and die in the stench of their lukewarm and imperfect lives. The desire for perfection is not enough if there is not also a firm resolution to attain it. How many souls feed on desires alone, but never take a single step on the road to God! These are the desires of which the Wise Man speaks: Desideria occidunt pigrum (Prov. XXI, 25). The lazy person always desires, but never resolves to take the means proper to his state in order to become a saint. He says: Oh, if only I were in a desert and not in this house! Oh, if only I could go live in another monastery, I would give myself entirely to God! And meanwhile he cannot bear that companion, cannot hear a single word of contradiction, wastes himself in many useless cares, and commits a thousand faults of gluttony, curiosity, and pride — and then he sighs into the wind: Oh, if I had, oh, if I could, etc. Such desires do more harm than good, because a person feeds on them and meanwhile lives and continues to live imperfectly. St. Francis de Sales said: "I do not approve that a person bound by some obligation or vocation should stop to desire another sort of life different from what befits his office, or other exercises incompatible with his present state; for this dissipates his heart and makes him languish in the exercises that are necessary."

We must therefore desire perfection and resolutely take the means to attain it. St. Teresa writes: "God requires of us only a resolution, and then he does everything on his part. The devil has no fear of irresolute souls."

For this purpose mental prayer serves — to take those means that lead us to perfection. Some pray a great deal, but never conclude anything in their prayer. The same saint said: "I would prefer a short prayer that produces great effects to one of many years in which the soul never finishes resolving to do something of value for God." And elsewhere she says: "I have found from experience that whoever at the beginning helps himself to resolve to do something, however difficult it may be, if it is done to please God, there is nothing to fear."

The first resolution must be to make every effort, and to die rather than commit any deliberate sin, however small. It is true that all our efforts without divine help are not sufficient to overcome temptations; but God wants us often to make this effort on our part, for he will then supply with his grace and assist our weakness by granting us the victory. This resolution frees us from the obstacle of advancing forward and gives us great courage, for it assures us that we stand in God's grace. St. Francis de Sales wrote: "The greatest assurance we can have in this world of being in God's grace does not consist in the feelings we have of his love, but in the pure and irrevocable abandonment of our whole being into his hands, and in the firm resolution never to consent to any sin, either great or small." This amounts to being delicate of conscience. Let us note that it is one thing to be delicate of conscience, and another to be scrupulous. To be delicate is necessary to become a saint, but to be scrupulous is a defect and does harm; and therefore we must obey our spiritual directors and overcome scruples, which are nothing but vain and unreasonable apprehensions.

Then we must resolve to choose the best — not only what pleases God, but what most pleases God, without reserve. St. Francis de Sales says: "We must begin with a strong and constant resolution to give ourselves entirely to God, protesting to him that in the future we wish to be his without any reserve, and then frequently renew this same resolution." St. Andrew Avellino made a vow to advance every day in perfection. Whoever wishes to become a saint need not make such a vow; but he must endeavor every day to take some step in perfection. St. Lawrence Justinian wrote: "When one is truly walking well, he feels within himself a continual desire to advance; and the more he grows in perfection, the more this desire grows; for as his light increases day by day, it always seems to him that he has no virtue and does no good; and if he does see himself doing some good, it always seems very imperfect to him, and he makes little of it. Hence he is continually laboring to acquire perfection without ever growing weary."

And we must act quickly, and not wait for tomorrow. Who knows if after this we will no longer have time to do it? Ecclesiastes warns: Quodcumque facere potest manus tua, instanter operare (Eccl. IX, 10): what you can do, do quickly and do not defer it. And he gives the reason: Quia nec opus, nec ratio, nec sapientia, nec scientia erunt apud inferos, quo tu properas (Ibid.): because in the next life there is no more time to work, nor reason for merit, nor wisdom for doing good, nor knowledge or experience to counsel you, since after death what is done is done. A religious in the monastery of Torre de' Specchi in Rome, called Sister Bonaventura, was leading a very lukewarm life. A religious, Father Lancizio, came to give spiritual exercises to the nuns, and Sister Bonaventura, because she had no desire to escape her lukewarmness, reluctantly began to attend the exercises. But divine grace won her at the very first sermon, and she went immediately to the feet of the preacher and said to him with true resolution: "Father, I want to become a saint, and quickly a saint." And with divine help she did so, for she lived only about eight months after that, and in that short time she lived and died as a saint.

David said: Et dixi, nunc coepi (Ps. LXXVI, 11). St. Charles Borromeo likewise used to repeat: "Today I begin to serve God." And so we must do, as if in the past we had done no good at all. Since indeed all that we do for God is nothing, because we are bound to do it all, let us therefore resolve each day to begin to be entirely God's, and not stand watching what others do or how they do it. Few are those who truly become saints. St. Bernard says: Perfectum non potest esse nisi singulare. If we wish to imitate the generality of men, we will always be imperfect, as they commonly are. We must overcome everything, renounce everything, to obtain everything. St. Teresa said: "Because we never finish giving God all our affection, neither is his love given to us in full." O God, how little is all that we do for Jesus Christ, who gave his blood and life for us! "All that we can do," writes the same saint, "is filthy in comparison with a single drop of blood shed by the Lord for us." The saints do not know how to spare themselves when it is a matter of pleasing a God who has given himself entirely to us without reserve, precisely in order to oblige us to refuse him nothing. Chrysostom wrote: Totum tibi dedit, nihil sibi reliquit. God has given you his whole self; it is not right that you hold back with God. He went so far as to die for all of us, says the Apostle, so that each of us might live only for him who died for us: Pro nobis omnibus mortuus est Christus, ut et qui vivunt iam non sibi vivant, sed ei qui pro ipsis mortuus est (II Cor. V, 15).

The third means to becoming a saint is mental prayer.

John Gerson writes that whoever does not meditate on the eternal truths cannot, without a miracle, live as a Christian. The reason is that without mental prayer one lacks light and walks in darkness. The truths of faith are not seen with the eyes of the body, but with the eyes of the soul when it meditates on them; whoever does not meditate on them does not see them, and therefore walks in darkness, and easily, being in the dark, becomes attached to sensible objects, for the sake of which one then despises eternal things. St. Teresa wrote to the Bishop of Osma: "Although it seems to us that we find no imperfections in ourselves, yet when God opens the eyes of the soul, as he usually does in prayer, they appear clearly enough." And before her St. Bernard wrote that he who does not meditate seipsum non exhorret quia non sentit: he does not abhor himself because he does not know himself. Prayer, says the saint, regit affectus, dirigit actus: it regulates the affections of the soul and directs our actions to God; but without prayer the affections become attached to the earth, actions conform to the affections, and so everything falls into disorder.

Terrible is the case related in the life of the Venerable Sister Maria Crocifissa of Sicily. While the servant of God was praying, she heard a devil boasting of having caused a religious to leave common prayer; and she saw in a vision that after this failure the devil tempted her to consent to a grave sin, and that she was already close to consenting. She immediately ran to her and, admonishing her, saved her from the fall. St. Teresa said that whoever leaves prayer "quickly becomes either a beast or a devil."

He who leaves prayer, then, will leave off loving Jesus Christ. Prayer is the blessed furnace where the fire of holy love is kindled and preserved: In meditatione mea exardescet ignis (Ps. XXXVIII, 4). St. Catherine of Bologna said: "Whoever does not practice prayer deprives himself of the bond that binds the soul to God. And so it will not be difficult for the devil, finding the person cold in divine love, to draw him to feed on some poisoned fruit." On the other hand, St. Teresa said: "For one who perseveres in prayer, no matter how many sins the devil may throw in the way, I hold it certain that the Lord will finally bring him to the harbor of salvation." In another place she says: "Whoever does not stop on the path of prayer, though he arrive late, still arrives." And elsewhere she writes that the devil labors so hard to draw souls away from prayer because "the devil knows that the soul which perseveringly attends to prayer is lost to him." Oh, how many goods are gathered from prayer! In prayer holy thoughts are conceived, devout affections are exercised, great desires are aroused, and firm resolutions are made to give oneself entirely to God; and so the soul sacrifices earthly pleasures and all disordered appetites. St. Aloysius Gonzaga said: "There will be no great perfection without much prayer." Let whoever loves perfection take note of this great saying of the saint.

One must not go to prayer to taste the sweetness of divine love; whoever goes for that end will waste his time, or draw little profit. One should set oneself to pray solely to please God — that is, solely to understand what God wants of him and to ask his help to carry it out. The Venerable Father Antonio Torres said: "Carrying the cross without consolations makes souls fly to perfection." Prayer without sensible consolations is the most fruitful for the soul. But poor is the soul that abandons it because it finds no relish in it! St. Teresa said: "The soul that abandons prayer is like one who of her own accord casts herself into hell, with no need of devils."

From the practice of prayer it follows that a person always thinks of God: "The true lover," says St. Teresa, "always remembers the beloved." And from this it follows that persons of prayer always speak of God, knowing how much it pleases God that his lovers delight in speaking of him and of the love he bears us, and thus seek to inflame others as well. The same saint wrote: "Jesus Christ is always present at the conversations of his servants, and it greatly pleases him that they delight in him."

From prayer also arises that desire to retire to solitary places to converse alone with God, and to preserve interior recollection while attending to necessary external affairs. I say necessary — either for the management of a household or for duties imposed by obedience — for the person of prayer must love solitude and not dissipate himself in superfluous and useless occupations; otherwise he will lose the spirit of recollection, which is a great means of maintaining union with God. Hortus conclusus soror mea sponsa (Cant. IV, 12). The soul that is the spouse of Jesus Christ must be a garden closed to all creatures, and must admit into her heart no thoughts or business other than of God or for God. Open hearts do not become saints. The saints who are workers in winning souls for God, even in the midst of their labors of preaching, hearing confessions, making peace, and attending the sick, do not lose their recollection. The same applies to those who are devoted to study. How many, through studying much in order to become learned, become neither saints nor scholars, because the true learning is the science of the saints — that is, knowing how to love Jesus Christ — since divine love brings with it both knowledge and all good things: Venerunt autem mihi omnia bona... cum illa — that is, with holy charity (Sap. VII, 11). The Venerable John Berchmans had an extraordinary love of study, but by his virtue he never permitted study to hinder his spiritual progress. The Apostle wrote: Non plus sapere, quam oportet sapere, sed sapere ad sobrietatem (Rom. XII, 3). We must learn, especially those who are priests; they must learn, because the priest must instruct others in the divine law: Labia enim sacerdotis custodient scientiam et legem requirent ex ore eius (Malac. II, 7); they must learn, but usque ad sobrietatem. Whoever abandons prayer for the sake of study shows that in study he is not seeking God, but himself. Whoever seeks God leaves study when it is not actually necessary, so as not to leave prayer.

Moreover, the greatest evil is that without mental prayer one does not pray. In many of my spiritual works I have spoken of the necessity of prayer, and especially in a little book entitled The Great Means of Prayer; and in this chapter I shall also say more about it briefly. Let it suffice here to note what the Venerable Bishop of Osma, Monsignor Palafox, wrote: "How can charity endure if God does not give us perseverance? How will the Lord give us perseverance if we do not ask for it? And how shall we ask for it without prayer? Without prayer there is no communication with God to preserve the virtues." And so it is, for whoever does not make mental prayer sees little of the needs of his soul, knows little of the dangers to his salvation, and little of the means he must use to overcome temptations; and so, knowing little of the necessity he has to pray, he will cease to pray and will certainly be lost.

As for the subject of meditation, there is nothing more useful than to meditate on the last things: death, judgment, hell, and paradise; but meditating on death is especially helpful, imagining ourselves on our deathbed, embracing the Crucifix, about to enter eternity. But above all, for whoever loves Jesus Christ and desires to grow ever more in holy love, there is no more effective thought than that of the Passion of the Redeemer. St. Francis de Sales said that "Mount Calvary is the mount of lovers." All the lovers of Jesus Christ dwell always on this mount, where no air is breathed but that of divine love. At the sight of a God who dies for love of us, and who dies because he loves us — dilexit nos et tradidit semetipsum pro nobis (Ephes. V, 2) — it is impossible not to love him ardently. From the wounds of the Crucified there come forth continually such darts of love that they pierce even hearts of stone. Oh, happy is he who dwells continually on Mount Calvary in this life! O blessed mount, O lovable mount! O dear mount, who would ever leave you? Mount that sends forth fire and inflames the souls that perseveringly dwell upon you!

The fourth means to perfection and also to perseverance in the grace of God is the frequent reception of Holy Communion, of which we already spoke in Chapter II, where we said that a soul can do nothing more pleasing to Jesus Christ than to receive him often in the Sacrament of the altar.

St. Teresa said: "There is no better help for perfection than frequent Communion: oh, how wonderfully the Lord perfects the soul through it!" And she added that, generally speaking, the persons who receive Communion most often are found to be the most advanced in perfection; and that in those monasteries where Holy Communion is most frequent, there reigns the most fervent spirit. And therefore, as the decree of Innocent XI of 1679 states, the Holy Fathers have greatly praised and promoted frequent and even daily Communion. Communion, as the Council of Trent says (Sess. 13, c. 2), frees us from our daily faults and preserves us from mortal sins. St. Bernard says that Communion represses the movements of anger and impurity, which are the two passions that most often and most violently assail us.

St. Thomas (3. p. q. 79. a. 1) says that Communion overcomes the suggestions of the devil. And St. John Chrysostom finally says that Communion instills in us a great inclination to virtue and a readiness to practice it, and at the same time imparts great peace, and so makes the path of perfection easy and sweet. Above all, no sacrament inflames souls with divine love as much as the sacrament of the Eucharist, in which Jesus Christ gives us his whole self for this very purpose: to unite us all to him through holy love. Hence the Venerable Father John of Avila said: "Whoever keeps souls away from frequent Communion does the work of the devil." Yes, because the devil greatly hates this Sacrament, from which souls receive great strength to advance in divine love.

To make a good Communion, the proper preparation is needed. The first preparation, or remote preparation, to be able to receive daily or frequent Communion, is: 1. To abstain from every deliberate fault — that is, one committed with open eyes. 2. The practice of much mental prayer. 3. The mortification of the senses and the passions.

St. Francis de Sales teaches in his Introduction to the Devout Life (ch. 20): "Whoever has overcome the greater part of his evil inclinations and has reached a notable degree of perfection may receive Communion every day." The Angelic Doctor St. Thomas teaches that one may well receive daily Communion who has the experience that in receiving Communion the fervor of holy love increases. Hence Innocent XI said in the above-mentioned decree that the greater or lesser frequency of Communion should be determined by the confessor, who in this matter should guide himself according to the profit he sees drawn from it by the souls he directs.

The proximate preparation for Communion is what is made on the very morning of Communion, for which at least half an hour of mental prayer is needed.

Furthermore, in order to draw great fruit from Communion, a long thanksgiving is necessary. Father John of Avila said that the time after Communion is "the time for gathering treasures of grace." St. Mary Magdalene de' Pazzi said that there is no time more apt to inflame us with divine love than the time after we have received Communion. And St. Teresa wrote: "After Communion, let us not lose so good an occasion of negotiating with God. His Divine Majesty does not usually pay badly for the lodging if he is given a good welcome."

Certain faint-hearted souls, when encouraged by their confessor to receive Communion more often, reply: But I am not worthy of it. But do you not know, sister, that the longer you stay away from Communion, the more unworthy you make yourself? Because without Communion you will have less strength and will commit more faults. Come now, obey your director and let yourself be guided by him: faults do not prevent Communion when they are not fully voluntary; moreover, among all your faults the greatest is this: not obeying what your spiritual father tells you.

But I have led a bad life in the past. And do you not know, I reply, that the more sick one is, the more one needs the physician and the medicine? Jesus in the Sacrament is both physician and medicine. St. Ambrose said: Qui semper pecco, debeo semper habere medicinam. Someone will say: But the confessor does not tell me to receive Communion more often. And if he does not tell you, then ask him for permission to receive Communion more often. If he then refuses, obey him; but in the meantime make the request. It may seem like pride. It would be pride if you wished to receive Communion against his advice, but not when you humbly ask him for it. This heavenly bread desires hunger. Jesus wishes to be desired; sitit sitiri, says a devout writer. Ah, the thought "today I have received Communion" or "tomorrow I am to receive Communion" — oh, how this thought keeps the soul attentive to avoiding faults and doing the divine will! But I have no fervor. If you speak of sensible fervor, this is not necessary, nor does God always grant it even to his most beloved souls; it suffices that you have the fervor of a resolved will to be entirely God's and to advance in divine love. John Gerson says that whoever abstains from Communion because he does not feel the devotion he would like to feel acts like someone who will not approach the fire because he does not feel warm.

O my God, many souls, because they do not wish to commit themselves to living with more recollection and greater detachment from earthly things, fail to ask for Communion; and this is the real reason for not wanting to receive Communion more often. They know that frequent Communion does not go well with wanting to appear important, with vanity in dress, with being attached to food, to comfort, and to recreational conversations: they know that it would require more prayer, more interior and exterior mortification, more retirement from the world; and so they are ashamed to approach the altar more often. There is no doubt that for such souls it is fitting to abstain from frequent Communion, finding themselves in this wretched state of lukewarmness; but from this lukewarmness one must at all costs escape, whoever, being called to a more perfect life, does not wish to place his eternal salvation in great danger.

It is also very helpful, for keeping the soul in fervor, to make frequent spiritual Communion, so greatly praised by the Council of Trent (Sess. 13, c. 8), where all the faithful are exhorted to practice it. Spiritual Communion, as St. Thomas says (3. p. q. 80. a. 1. ad 3), consists in an ardent desire to receive Jesus Christ in the Sacrament; and therefore the saints were accustomed to make it many times a day. The way to make it is this: My Jesus, I believe in you in the Blessed Sacrament. I love you and I desire you; come to my soul. I embrace you, and I beg you not to let me ever be separated from you. More briefly: My Jesus, come to me; I desire you; I embrace you; let us always remain united. This spiritual Communion can be practiced many times a day: during prayer, during a visit to the Blessed Sacrament, and especially while attending Mass at the moment the priest receives Communion. Blessed Agata of the Cross, a Dominican, said: "If the confessor had not taught me this way of receiving Communion spiritually many times a day, I would not have dared to live."

The fifth means, and the most necessary for the spiritual life and for acquiring the love of Jesus Christ, is the means of prayer.

I say first that in this means God makes known to us the great love he bears us. What greater proof of affection can a person give a friend than to say: "My friend, ask me for whatever you wish, and you shall have it from me"? Now this is precisely what the Lord says to us: Petite, et dabitur vobis: quaerite, et invenietis (Luc. XI, 9). Hence prayer is called omnipotent before God to obtain every good: Oratio cum sit una omnia potest, wrote Theodoret. He who prays obtains from God whatever he wishes. Beautiful are the words of David: Benedictus Deus qui non amovit orationem meam et misericordiam suam a me (Ps. LXV, 20). St. Augustine, commenting on this passage, says: "When you see that prayer does not fail in you, be assured that divine mercy will not fail you either." And St. John Chrysostom adds: Semper obtinetur, etiam dum adhuc oramus: When we pray to the Lord, before we even finish praying he grants us the grace we seek. If, then, we are poor, let us complain only of ourselves, for we are poor because we wish to be poor, and therefore we do not deserve compassion. What compassion can a beggar deserve who has a very rich lord willing to provide him with everything if only he asks, yet he chooses to remain in his poverty because he will not ask for what he needs? Behold, says the Apostle, our God who stands ready to enrich everyone who calls upon him: Dives in omnes qui invocant illum (Rom. X, 12).

So humble prayer obtains everything from God; but we must also know that as useful as it is, it is equally necessary for our salvation. It is certain that in order to overcome the temptations of our enemies we have an absolute need of divine help; and sometimes, in certain more violent assaults, the sufficient grace that God gives to all might be enough for us to resist, but because of our evil inclination it will not suffice, and a special grace will be needed. He who prays obtains it, but he who does not pray does not obtain it and is lost. And speaking particularly of the grace of final perseverance — that is, of dying in the grace of God, which is the grace absolutely necessary for our salvation, without which we will be lost forever — St. Augustine says that this grace God grants only to those who pray. And this is the reason why so few are saved: because few are those who attend to asking God for this grace of perseverance.

In short, the Holy Fathers say that prayer is necessary for us not only by necessity of precept — on account of which the doctors say that whoever neglects for a month to commend his eternal salvation to God is not excused from mortal sin — but also by necessity of means; that is, whoever does not pray cannot possibly be saved. The reason, in brief, is that we cannot obtain salvation without the help of divine graces, and God does not grant these graces except to those who pray. And because temptations and dangers of falling from God's grace are continuous, our prayers must also be continuous. Hence St. Thomas wrote that for a person to be saved, continual prayer is necessary: Necessaria est homini iugis oratio, ad hoc quod caelum introeat. And before him Jesus Christ said: Oportet semper orare et non deficere (Luc. XVIII, 1); and then the Apostle: Sine intermissione orate (I Thess. V, 17). In those intervals when we cease recommending ourselves to God, the devil will overcome us. The grace of perseverance, although it cannot be merited by us, as the Council of Trent teaches (Sess. 6, cap. 13), can nevertheless, says St. Augustine, in a certain way be merited by praying: Hoc Dei donum perseverantiae suppliciter emereri potest, id est supplicando impetrari. The Lord wishes to bestow his graces on us, but he wishes to be asked; indeed, as St. Gregory writes, he wishes to be importuned and almost compelled by our prayers: Vult Deus orari, vult cogi, vult quodam modo importunitate vinci. And St. Mary Magdalene de' Pazzi said that when we ask God for graces, not only does he hear us, but in a certain sense he thanks us. Yes, because since God is an infinite goodness that desires to communicate itself to others, he has, so to speak, an infinite desire to bestow his goods upon us; but he wishes to be asked; and so when he sees himself asked by a soul, so great is the pleasure he receives that in a certain sense he thanks her for it.

If, then, we wish always to remain in God's grace until death, we must always play the beggar and keep our mouths open to pray God to help us, always repeating: My Jesus, mercy; do not permit me to be separated from you; Lord, assist me; my God, help me. This was the continual prayer practiced by the ancient fathers in the desert: Deus, in adiutorium meum intende: Domine, ad adiuvandum me festina (Ps. LXIX, 2): Lord, help me and help me quickly, for if you delay in helping me, I will fall and be lost. And this must be done especially in time of temptation: whoever does not do this is lost.

And let us have great faith in prayer. It is God's promise to hear whoever prays to him: Petite et accipietis (Io. XVI, 24). Why should we doubt, says St. Augustine, since the Lord by his promise has made himself a debtor and cannot fail to grant us the graces we seek? Promittendo debitorem se fecit. When we commend ourselves to God, we must at that moment have a certain confidence that God hears us, and we shall obtain whatever we wish. Here is what Jesus Christ says: Omnia quaecumque orantes petitis, credite quia accipietis, et evenient vobis (Marc. XI, 24).

But I am a sinner, someone will say, and do not deserve to be heard. But Jesus Christ says: Omnis... qui petit accipit (Luc. XI, 10): Everyone who asks receives — everyone, whether just or a sinner. St. Thomas teaches that the power of prayer to obtain graces for us does not rest on our merits but solely on the mercy of God, who has promised to hear whoever prays to him: Oratio in impetrando non innititur nostris meritis; sed soli divinae misericordiae. And our Savior, to remove every fear when we pray, said to us: Amen, amen dico vobis, si quid petieritis Patrem in nomine meo, dabit vobis (Io. XVI, 23); as if to say: Sinners, you have no merits to obtain graces, so do this: when you want graces, ask my Father in my name — that is, by my merits and for love of me — and then ask for whatever you wish, and it shall be given to you. But let us note that phrase in nomine meo: this means, as St. Thomas explains, in nomine Salvatoris — that is, the graces we ask for must be graces pertaining to eternal salvation; and therefore we must note that the promise does not apply to temporal graces: these, when they are useful for eternal salvation, the Lord grants them, and when they are not, he denies them. So temporal graces must always be asked with the condition that they serve the soul's good. But when the graces are spiritual, then no condition is needed, but confidence — a certain confidence — saying: Eternal Father, in the name of Jesus Christ, free me from this temptation; give me holy perseverance; give me your love; give me paradise. These graces we can also ask of Jesus Christ in his name — that is, by his merits — because for this too there is the promise of Jesus Christ: Si quid petieritis me in nomine meo, hoc faciam (Io. XIV, 14).

But above all, it is necessary to pray with perseverance: Oportet semper orare et non deficere (Luc. XVIII, 1). It is not enough to pray once; we must always pray: because the dangers of being lost are always present, and always present also must be our prayers for divine help. And especially let us never grow weary of asking God for these three graces, which are the greatest: the forgiveness of our sins, perseverance unto death, and the holy love of God. Let us ask and we shall receive; let us seek and we shall find; let us knock and it shall be opened to us.

Among all devotions, after the devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, the first place belongs to devotion to the Most Blessed Virgin Mary. Whoever does not place confidence in this great Mother cannot be saved — not because graces cannot come to us without Mary's intercession, but because God has willed that all graces should pass through her hands. As St. Bernard says: God has willed that we should have nothing that has not passed through the hands of Mary: Nihil nos Deus habere voluit quod per Mariae manus non transiret. Hence whoever wishes to receive graces and does not have recourse to Mary is like a person who tries to fly without wings.

Let us then always have recourse to this divine Mother, and especially in temptations. St. Germanus called Mary the harbor of sinners in danger: if we are in a storm, let us run to Mary and we shall be saved. And let us say to her with confidence: Sub tuum praesidium confugimus, Sancta Dei Genitrix. Under your protection we take refuge, O holy Mother of God; in every temptation, in every danger of sinning, let us invoke Mary, saying: Mary, help me; Mary, assist me. The very name of Mary is enough to put the demons to flight. Oh, happy are those who, in every necessity, in every temptation, always invoke the names of Jesus and of Mary!

Affections and Prayers

My dear Jesus, I have been ungrateful to you up to now; I have resisted your grace, and I have not corresponded to the love you have borne me. I repent of it with all my heart; I would rather have died a thousand times than have offended you. But now I love you above all things, I love you more than myself, I love you with all my heart.

My God, I resolve never more to offend you, and to love you always. Give me the grace to be faithful to you. Give me the grace of holy perseverance.

O Mary, my hope and my refuge, by the love you bear for Jesus Christ, obtain for me the grace to be faithful to God and never more to lose him. I commend myself to you, O Mother of God; I place all my trust in you.