"the greatest of all mystical theologians"
Thus
has Thomas Merton described St. John of the Cross, echoing the considered
judgment of most authorities on the spiritual life; and here in this volume is
the great mystic's most widely appealing work. Ascent of Mount Carmel is
an incomparable guide to the spiritual life -- because its author has lived
his own counsel. Addressed to informed Christians who aspire to grow in union
with God, it examines every category of spiritual experience, the spurious as
well as the authentic. With rare insight into human psychology it not only
tells how to become more closely united with God, but spells out in vivid detail
the pitfalls to avoid.
In his
Apostolic Letter proclaiming St. John of the Cross a Doctor of the Church, Pope
Pius XI wrote that he "points out to souls the way of perfection as though
illumined by light from on high, in his limpidly clear analysis of mystical
experience. And although [his works] deal with difficult and hidden matters,
they are nevertheless replete with such lofty spiritual doctrine and are so
well adapted to the understanding of those who study them that they can rightly
be called a guide and handbook for the man of faith who proposes to embrace a
life of perfection."
This
translation by E. Allison Peers was hailed by the London Times as
"the most faithful that has appeared in any European language."
St. John of the Cross was perhaps the greatest mystical writer the
world has ever known. Bossuet's famous tribute -- that his writings
"possess the same authority in mystical theology as the writings of St.
Thomas possess in dogmatic theology" -- remains the most fitting testimonial
to his august place among spiritual writers.
John was
born in Castile in 1542 -- eve of Spain's century of greatness, to which he
himself was to add such lustre. He studied under the Jesuits and worked for six
years in a hospital. Entering the Carmelites in 1563, he was professed a year
later and sent to the great University of Salamanca. He was ordained in 1567
but, shrinking from the apostolate of a priest in the world, considered
entering the Carthusians, a hermitical order.
Then
came the turning point in his life. He met St. Teresa of vila, who was
pursuing her epic work of restoring the pristine, stricter observance of the
Carmelite rule. John and two other members of the order took the vows of the
Discalced (or reformed) Carmelites the following year, binding themselves to a
more rigorous way of life which included daily (and nightly) recitation of the
Divine Office in choir, perpetual abstinence from meat, and additional fasting.
Yet his
religious vows were but a part of the rigors John was to undergo. The main
branch of the order, the Calced Carmelites, so opposed the Reform that they
twice had John kidnapped and jailed -- providentially, so it proved, for much
of his writing was done in prison.
The
greater part of his twenty-three years as a Discalced Carmelite, however, was
spent in filling a number of important posts in the order, among them Rector of
two colleges, Prior, Definator, and Vicar-Provincial. But it was in one of his
lesser offices that he was to spend the most decisive years of his life: he was
confessor to the Carmelite nuns at vila, where St. Teresa was Superior.
The
secret of St. John's unique contribution to mystical theology was not simply
his mysticism, for there have been other mystics; not even his profound grasp
of Scripture, dogma, Thomism, and spiritual literature, for there have also
been learned mystics. What sets him apart is his extraordinary poetic vision.
To write of mystical experience is to try to express the inexpressible. Because
he was a great poet St. John of the Cross was able, in the realm of mysticism,
to push the frontiers of human expression beyond where any writer has succeeded
in venturing before or since. This poetic intensity is found even in his prose,
the major works of which are Ascent of Mount Carmel, Dark Night of
the Soul, Spiritual Canticle, and Living Flame of Love.
St. John
of the Cross died in 1591, was beatified less than a century later in 1675, was
canonized in 1726, and was named a Doctor of the Church by Pope Pius XI in
1926.
ASCENT OF
MOUNT CARMEL
by
Saint John of the Cross
DOCTOR
OF THE CHURCH
THIRD REVISED EDITION
Translated and edited,
with a General
Introduction, by
E. ALLISON PEERS
from the critical edition
of
P. SILVERIO DE SANTA TERESA, C.D.
NIHIL OBSTAT: CEORGIVS SMITH,
S.T.D., PH.D.
CENSOR DEPVTATVS
IMPRIMATVR: E. MORROGH BERNARD
VICARIVS GENERALIS
WESTMONASTERII: DIE XXIV
SEPTEMBRIS MCMLII
TO THE
DISCALCED
CARMELITES OF CASTILE,
WITH ABIDING MEMORIES OF THEIR
HOSPITALITY AND KINDNESS
IN MADRID, AVILA AND BURGOS,
BUT ABOVE ALL OF THEIR DEVOTION TO
SAINT JOHN OF THE CROSS,
I DEDICATE THIS TRANSLATION
CONTENTS
Preface To The Electonic Edition
Translator's Preface to the First edition
Translator's Preface to the Second edition
Principal Abbreviations
An Outline of the Life of St. John of the Cross
General Introduction to the Works of St. John of the Cross
ASCENT
OF MOUNT CARMEL
Introduction
Argument
Prologue
BOOK
I
Chapter
I.--Sets down the first stanza. Describes two different nights through which
spiritual persons pass, according to the two parts of man, the lower and the
higher. Expounds the stanza which follows
Chapter II.--Explains the nature of this dark night through which the soul
says that it has passed on the road to union
Chapter III.--Speaks of the first cause of this night, which is that of the
privation of the desire in all things, and gives the reason for which it is
called night
Chapter IV.--Wherein is declared how necessary it is for the soul truly to
pass through this dark night of sense, which is mortification of desire, in
order that it may journey to union with God
Chapter V.--Wherein the aforementioned subject is treated and continued, and
it is shown by passages and figures from Holy Scripture how necessary it is for
the soul to journey to God through this dark night of the mortification of
desire in all things
Chapter VI.--Wherein are treated two serious evils caused in the soul by the
desires, the one evil being privative and the other positive
Chapter VII.--Wherein is shown how the desires torment the soul. This is
proved likewise by comparisons and quotations
Chapter VIII.--Wherein is shown how the desires darken and blind the soul
Chapter IX.--Wherein is described how the desires defile the soul. This is
proved by comparisons and quotations from Holy Scripture
Chapter X.--Wherein is described how the desires weaken the soul in virtue and
make it lukewarm
Chapter XI.--Wherein it is proved necessary that the soul that would attain to
Divine union should be free from desires, however slight they be
Chapter XII.--Which treats of the answer to another question, explaining what
the desires are that suffice to cause the evils aforementioned in the soul
Chapter XIII.--Wherein is described the manner and way which the soul must
follow in order to enter this night of sense
Chapter XIV.--Wherein is expounded the second line of the stanza
Chapter XV.--Wherein are expounded the remaining lines of the aforementioned
stanza
BOOK
II
Chapter I
Chapter II.--Which begins to treat of the second part of cause of this night,
which is faith. Proves by two arguments how it is darker than the first and
then the third
Chapter III.--How faith is dark night to the soul. This is proved with
arguments and quotations and figures from Scripture
Chapter IV.--Treats in general of how the soul likewise must be in darkness,
in so far as this rests with itself, to the end that it may be effectively guided
by faith to the highest contemplation
Chapter V.--Wherein is described what is meant by union of the soul with God.
A comparison is given
Chapter VI.--Wherein is described how it is the three theological virtues that
perfect the three faculties of the soul, and how the said virtues produce
emptiness and darkness within them
Chapter VII.--Wherein is described how strait is the way that leads to eternal
life and how completely detached and disencumbered must be those that will walk
in it. We begin to speak of the detachment of the understanding
Chapter VIII.--Which describes in a general way how no creature and no
knowledge that can be comprehended by the understanding can serve as a
proximate means of Divine union with God
Chapter IX.--How faith is the proximate and proportionate means of the
understanding whereby the soul may attain to the Divine union of love. This is
proved by passages and figures from Divine Scripture
Chapter X.--Wherein distinction is made between all apprehensions and types of
knowledge which can be comprehended by the understanding
Chapter XI.--Of the hindrance and harm that may be caused by apprehensions of
the understanding which proceed from that which is supernaturally represented
to the outward bodily senses; and how the soul is to conduct itself therein
Chapter XII.--Which treats of natural imaginary apprehensions. Describes their
nature and proves that they cannot be a proportionate means of attainment to
union with God. Shows the harm which results from inability to detach one self
from them
Chapter XIII.--Wherein are set down the signs which the spiritual person will
find in himself whereby he may know at what season it behoves him to leave
meditation and reasoning and pass to the state of contemplation
Chapter XIV.--Wherein is proved the fitness of these signs, and the reason is
given why that which has been said in speaking of them is necessary to progress
Chapter XV.--Wherein is explained how it is sometimes well for progressives
who are beginning to enter upon this general knowledge of contemplation to make
use of natural reasoning and the work of the natural faculties
Chapter XVI.--Which treats of the imaginary apprehensions that are
supernaturally represented in the fancy. Describes how they cannot serve the
soul as a proximate means to union with God
Chapter XVII.--Wherein is described the purpose and manner of God in His
communication of spiritual blessings to the soul by means of the senses. Herein
is answered the question which has been referred to
Chapter XVIII.--Which treats of the harm that certain spiritual masters may do
to souls when they direct them not by a good method with respect to the visions
aforementioned. Describes also how these visions may cause deception even
though they be of God.
Chapter XIX.--Wherein is expounded and proved how, although visions and
locutions which come from God are true, we may be deceived about them. This is
proved by quotations from Divine Scripture
Chapter XX.--Wherein is proved by passages from Scripture how the sayings and
words of God, though always true, do not always rest upon stable causes.
Chapter XXI.--Wherein is explained how at times, although God answers the
prayers that are addressed to Him, He is not pleased that we should use such
methods. It is also shown how, although He condescend to us and answer us, He
is oftentimes wroth
Chapter XXII.--Wherein is solved a difficulty -- namely, why it is not lawful,
under the law of grace, to ask anything of God by supernatural means, as it was
under the old law. This solution is proved by a passage from Saint Paul
Chapter XXIII.--Which begins to treat of the apprehensions of the
understanding that come in a purely spiritual way, and describes their nature
Chapter XXIV.--Which treats of two kinds of spiritual vision that come
supernaturally
Chapter XXV.--Which treats of revelations, describing their nature and making
a distinction between them
Chapter XXVI.--Which treats of the intuition of naked truths in the
understanding, explaining how they are of two kinds and how the soul is to
conduct itself with respect to them
Chapter XXVII.--Which treats of the second kind of revelation, namely, the
disclosure of hidden secrets. Describes the way in which these may assist the
soul toward union with God, and the way in which they may be a hindrance; and
how the devil may deceive the soul greatly in this matter
Chapter XXVIII.--Which treats of interior locutions that may come to the
spirit supernaturally. Says of what kinds they are
Chapter XXIX.--Which treats of the first kind of words that the recollected
spirit sometimes forms within itself. Describes the cause of these and the
profit and the harm which there may be in them
Chapter XXX.--Which treats of the interior words that come to the spirit
formally by supernatural means. Warns the reader of the harm which they may do
and of the caution that is necessary in order that the soul may not be deceived
by them
Chapter XXXI.--Which treats of the substantial words that come interiorly to
the spirit. Describes the difference between them and formal words, and the
profit which they bring and the resignation and respect which the soul must
observe with regard to them
Chapter XXXII.--Which treats of the apprehensions received by the
understanding from interior feelings which come supernaturally to the soul.
Describes their cause, and the manner wherein the soul must conduct itself so
that they may not obstruct its road to union with God
BOOK
III
Chapter I
Chapter II.--Which treats of the natural apprehensions of the memory and
describes how the soul must be voided of them in order to be able to attain to
union with God according to this faculty
Chapter III.--Wherein are described three kinds of evil which come to the soul
when it enters not into darkness with respect to knowledge and reflections in
the memory. Herein is described the first
Chapter IV.--Which treats of the second kind of evil that may come to the soul
from the devil by way of the natural apprehensions of the memory
Chapter V.--Of the third evil which comes to the soul by way of the distinct
natural knowledge of the memory
Chapter VI.-Of the benefits which come to the soul from forgetfulness and emptiness
of all thoughts and knowledge which it may have in a natural way with respect
to the memory
Chapter VII.--Which treats of the second kind of apprehension of the memory --
namely, imaginary apprehensions -- and of supernatural knowledge
Chapter VIII.--Of the evils which may be caused in the soul by the knowledge
of supernatural things, if it reflect upon them. Says how many these evils are
Chapter IX.--Of the second kind of evil, which is the peril of falling into
self-esteem and vain presumption
Chapter X.--Of the third evil that may come to the soul from the devil,
through the imaginary apprehensions of the memory
Chapter XI.--Of the fourth evil that comes to the soul from the distinct
supernatural apprehensions of the memory, which is the hindrance that it
interposes to union
Chapter XII.--Of the fifth evil that may come to the soul in supernatural
imaginary forms and apprehensions, which is a low and unseemingly judgment of
God
Chapter XIII.--Of the benefits which the soul receives through banishing from
itself the apprehensions of the imagination. This chapter answers a certain
objection and describes a difference which exists between apprehensions that
are imaginary, natural and supernatural
Chapter XIV.--Which treats of spiritual knowledge in so far as it may concern
the memory
Chapter XV.--Which sets down the general method whereby the spiritual person
must govern himself with respect to this sense
Chapter XVI.--Which begins to treat of the dark night of the will. Makes a
division between the affections of the will
Chapter XVII.--Which begins to treat of the first affection of the will.
Describes the nature of joy and makes a distinction between the things in which
the will can rejoice
Chapter XVIII.--Which treats of joy with respect to temporal blessings.
Describes how joy in them must be directed to God
Chapter XIX.--Of the evils that may befall the soul when it sets its rejoicing
upon temporal blessings
Chapter XX.--Of the benefits that come to the soul from its withdrawal of joy
from temporal things
Chapter XXI.--Which describes how it is vanity to set the rejoicing of the
will upon the good things of nature, and how the soul must direct itself, by
means of them, to God
Chapter XXII.--Of the evils which come to the soul when it sets the rejoicing
of its will upon the good things of nature
Chapter XXIII.--Of the benefits which the soul receives from not setting its
rejoicing upon the good things of nature
Chapter XXIV.--Which treats of the third kind of good thing whereon the will
may set the affection of rejoicing, which kind pertains to sense. Indicates
what these good things are and of how many kinds, and how the will has to be
directed to God and purged of this rejoicing
Chapter XXV.--Which treats of the evils that afflict the soul when it desires
to set the rejoicing of its will upon the good things of sense
Chapter XXVI.--Of the benefits that come to the soul from self-denial in
rejoicing as to things of sense, which benefits are spiritual and temporal
Chapter XXVII.--Which begins to treat of the fourth kind of good -- namely,
the moral. Describes wherein this consists, and in what manner joy of the will
therein is lawful
Chapter XXVIII.--Of seven evils into which a man may fall if he set the
rejoicing of his will upon moral good
Chapter XXIX.--Of the benefits which come to the soul through the withdrawal
of its rejoicing from moral good
Chapter XXX.--Which begins to treat of the fifth kind of good thing wherein
the will may rejoice, which is the super natural. Describes the nature of these
supernatural good things, and how they are distinguished from the spiritual,
and how joy in them is to be directed to God
Chapter XXXI.--Of the evils which come to the soul when it sets the rejoicing
of the will upon this kind of good
Chapter XXXII.--Of two benefits which are derived from the renunciation of
rejoicing in the matter of the supernatural graces
Chapter XXXIII.--Which begins to treat of the sixth kind of good wherein the
soul may rejoice, Describes its nature and makes the first division under this
head
Chapter XXXIV.--Of those good things of the spirit which can be distinctly
apprehended by the understanding and the memory. Describes how the will is to
behave in the matter of rejoicing in them
Chapter XXXV.--Of the delectable spiritual good things which can be distinctly
apprehended by the will. Describes the kinds of these
Chapter XXXVI.--Which continues to treat of images, and describes the
ignorance which certain persons have with respect to them
Chapter XXXVII.--Of how the rejoicing of the will must be directed, by way of
the images, to God, so that the soul may not go astray because of them or be
hindered by them
Chapter XXXVIII.--Continues to describe motive good. Speaks of oratories and
places dedicated to prayer
Chapter XXXIX.--Of the way in which oratories and churches should be used, in
order to direct the spirit to God.
Chapter XL.--Which continues to direct the spirit to interior recollection
with reference to what has been said
Chapter XLI.--Of certain evils into which those persons fall who give
themselves to pleasure in sensible objects and who frequent places of devotion
in the way that has been described
Chapter XLII.--Of three different kinds of places of devotion and of how the
will should conduct itself with regard to them
Chapter XLIII.--Which treats of other motives for prayer that many persons use
-- namely, a great variety of ceremonies
Chapter XLIV.--Of the manner wherein the rejoicing and strength of the will
must be directed to God through these devotions
Chapter XLV.--Which treats of the second kind of distinct good, wherein the
will may rejoice vainly
Preface To The Electonic Edition
This electronic
edition (v 0.9) has been scanned from an uncopyrighted 1962 Image Books second
edition of the Ascent and is therefore in the public domain. The entire
text and some of the footnotes have been reproduced. Nearly 1000 footnotes (and parts of footnotes) describing
variations among manuscripts have been omitted. Page number references in the footnotes have been changed to
chapter and section where possible. This edition has been proofread once, but
additional errors may remain.
Harry
Plantinga
University
of Pittsburgh
July
1, 1994.
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE
TO THE FIRST EDITION
FOR
at least twenty years, a new translation of the works of St. John of the Cross
has been an urgent necessity. The translations of the individual prose works
now in general use go back in their original form to the eighteen-sixties, and,
though the later editions of some of them have been submitted to a certain
degree of revision, nothing but a complete retranslation of the works from
their original Spanish could be satisfactory. For this there are two reasons.
First,
the existing translations were never very exact renderings of the original
Spanish text even in the form which held the field when they were first
published. Their great merit was extreme readableness: many a disciple of the
Spanish mystics, who is unacquainted with the language in which they wrote,
owes to these translations the comparative ease with which he has mastered the
main lines of St. John of the Cross's teaching. Thus for the general reader
they were of great utility; for the student, on the other hand, they have never
been entirely adequate. They paraphrase difficult expressions, omit or add to
parts of individual sentences in order (as it seems) to facilitate
comprehension of the general drift of the passages in which these occur, and
frequently retranslate from the Vulgate the Saint's Spanish quotations from
Holy Scripture instead of turning into English the quotations themselves, using
the text actually before them.
A second
and more important reason for a new translation, however, is the discovery of
fresh manuscripts and the consequent improvements which have been made in the
Spanish text of the works of St. John of the Cross, during the present century.
Seventy years ago, the text chiefly used was that of the collection known as
the Biblioteca de Autores Espaoles (1853), which itself was based, as
we shall later see, upon an edition going back as far as 1703, published before
modern methods of editing were so much as imagined. Both the text of the B.A.E.
edition and the unimportant commentary which accompanied it were highly
unsatisfactory, yet until the beginning of the present century nothing
appreciably better was attempted.
In the
last twenty years, however, we have had two new editions, each based upon a
close study of the extant manuscripts and each representing a great advance
upon the editions preceding it. The three-volume Toledo edition of P. Gerardo
de San Juan de la Cruz, C.D. (1912-14), was the first attempt made to produce
an accurate text by modern critical methods. Its execution was perhaps less
laudable than its conception, and faults were pointed out in it from the time
of its appearance, but it served as a new starting-point for Spanish scholars
and stimulated them to a new interest in St. John of the Cross's writings.
Then, seventeen years later, came the magnificent five-volume edition of P.
Silverio de Santa Teresa, C.D. (Burgos, 1929-31), which forms the basis of this
present translation. So superior is it, even on the most casual examination, to
all its predecessors that to eulogize it in detail is superfluous. It is
founded upon a larger number of texts than has previously been known and it
collates them with greater skill than that of any earlier editor. It can hardly
fail to be the standard edition of the works of St. John of the Cross for
generations.
Thanks
to the labours of these Carmelite scholars and of others whose findings they
have incorporated in their editions, Spanish students can now approach the work
of the great Doctor with the reasonable belief that they are reading, as nearly
as may be, what he actually wrote. English-reading students, however, who are
unable to master sixteenth-century Spanish, have hitherto had no grounds for
such a belief. They cannot tell whether, in any particular passage, they are
face to face with the Saint's own words, with a translator's free paraphrase of
them or with a gloss made by some later copyist or early editor in the supposed
interests of orthodoxy. Indeed, they cannot be sure that some whole paragraph
is not one of the numerous interpolations which has its rise in an early
printed edition -- i.e., the timorous qualifications of statements which have
seemed to the interpolator over-bold. Even some of the most distinguished
writers in English on St. John of the Cross have been misled in this way and it
has been impossible for any but those who read Spanish with ease to make a
systematic and reliable study of such an important question as the alleged
dependence of Spanish quietists upon the Saint, while his teaching on the
mystical life has quite unwittingly been distorted by persons who would least
wish to misrepresent it in any particular.
It was
when writing the chapter on St. John of the Cross in the first volume of my Studies
of the Spanish Mystics (in which, as it was published in 1927, I had not
the advantage of using P. Silverio's edition) that I first realized the extent
of the harm caused by the lack of an accurate and modern translation. Making my
own versions of all the passages quoted, I had sometimes occasion to compare
them with those of other translators, which at their worst were almost
unrecognizable as versions of the same originals. Then and there I resolved
that, when time allowed, I would make a fresh translation of the works of a
saint to whom I have long had great devotion -- to whom, indeed, I owe more
than to any other writer outside the Scriptures. Just at that time I happened
to visit the Discalced Carmelites at Burgos, where I first met P. Silverio, and
found, to my gratification, that his edition of St. John of the Cross was much
nearer publication than I had imagined. Arrangements for sole permission to
translate the new edition were quickly made and work on the early volumes was
begun even before the last volume was published.
II
These
preliminary notes will explain why my chief preoccupation throughout the
performance of this task has been to present as accurate and reliable a version
of St. John of the Cross's works as it is possible to obtain. To keep the
translation, line by line, au pied de la lettre, is, of course,
impracticable: and such constantly occurring Spanish habits as the use of
abstract nouns in the plural and the verbal construction 'ir + present
participle' introduce shades of meaning which cannot always be reproduced. Yet
wherever, for stylistic or other reasons, I have departed from the Spanish in any
way that could conceivably cause a misunderstanding, I have scrupulously
indicated this in a footnote. Further, I have translated, not only the text,
but the variant readings as given by P. Silverio,[1] except where they are due
merely to slips of the copyist's pen or where they differ so slightly from the
readings of the text that it is impossible to render the differences in
English. I beg students not to think that some of the smaller changes noted are
of no importance; closer examination will often show that, however slight they
may seem, they are, in relation to their context, or to some particular aspect
of the Saint's teaching, of real interest; in other places they help to give
the reader an idea, which may be useful to him in some crucial passage, of the
general characteristics of the manuscript or edition in question. The editor's
notes on the manuscripts and early editions which he has collated will also be
found, for the same reason, to be summarized in the introduction to each work;
in consulting the variants, the English-reading student has the maximum aid to
a judgment of the reliability of his authorities.
Concentration
upon the aim of obtaining the most precise possible rendering of the text has
led me to sacrifice stylistic elegance to exactness where the two have been in
conflict; it has sometimes been difficult to bring oneself to reproduce the
Saint's often ungainly, though often forceful, repetitions of words or his
long, cumbrous parentheses, but the temptation to take refuge in graceful
paraphrases has been steadily resisted. In the same interest, and also in that
of space, I have made certain omissions from, and abbreviations of, other parts
of the edition than the text. Two of P. Silverio's five volumes are entirely
filled with commentaries and documents. I have selected from the documents
those of outstanding interest to readers with no detailed knowledge of Spanish
religious history and have been content to summarize the editor's introductions
to the individual works, as well as his longer footnotes to the text, and to
omit such parts as would interest only specialists, who are able, or at least
should be obliged, to study them in the original Spanish.
The
decision to summarize in these places has been made the less reluctantly
because of the frequent unsuitability of P. Silverio's style to English
readers. Like that of many Spaniards, it is so discursive, and at times so
baroque in its wealth of epithet and its profusion of imagery, that a literal
translation, for many pages together, would seldom have been acceptable. The
same criticism would have been applicable to any literal translation of P.
Silverio's biography of St. John of the Cross which stands at the head of his
edition (Vol. I, pp. 7-130). There was a further reason for omitting these
biographical chapters. The long and fully documented biography by the French
Carmelite, P. Bruno de JŽsus-Marie, C.D., written from the same standpoint
as P. Silverio's, has recently been translated into English, and any attempt to
rival this in so short a space would be foredoomed to failure. I have thought,
however, that a brief outline of the principal events in St. John of the
Cross's life would be a useful preliminary to this edition; this has therefore
been substituted for the biographical sketch referred to.
In
language, I have tried to reproduce the atmosphere of a sixteenth-century text
as far as is consistent with clarity. Though following the paragraph divisions
of my original, I have not scrupled, where this has seemed to facilitate
understanding, to divide into shorter sentences the long and sometimes
straggling periods in which the Saint so frequently indulged. Some attempt has
been made to show the contrast between the highly adorned, poetical language of
much of the commentary on the 'Spiritual Canticle' and the more closely shorn
and eminently practical, though always somewhat discursive style of the Ascent
and Dark Night. That the Living Flame occupies an intermediate
position in this respect should also be clear from the style of the
translation.
Quotations,
whether from the Scriptures or from other sources, have been left strictly as
St. John of the Cross made them. Where he quotes in Latin, the Latin has been
reproduced; only his quotations in Spanish have been turned into English. The
footnote references are to the Vulgate, of which the Douai Version is a direct
translation; if the Authorized Version differs, as in the Psalms, the variation
has been shown in square brackets for the convenience of those who use it.
A word
may not be out of place regarding the translations of the poems as they appear
in the prose commentaries. Obviously, it would have been impossible to use the
comparatively free verse renderings which appear in Volume II of this
translation, since the commentaries discuss each line and often each word of
the poems. A literal version of the poems in their original verse-lines,
however, struck me as being inartistic, if not repellent, and as inviting
continual comparison with the more polished verse renderings which, in spirit,
come far nearer to the poet's aim. My first intention was to translate the
poems, for the purpose of the commentaries, into prose. But later I hit upon
the long and metrically unfettered verse-line, suggestive of Biblical poetry in
its English dress, which I have employed throughout. I believe that, although
the renderings often suffer artistically from their necessary literalness, they
are from the artistic standpoint at least tolerable.
III
The
debts I have to acknowledge, though few, are very large ones. My gratitude to
P. Silverio de Santa Teresa for telling me so much about his edition before its
publication, granting my publishers the sole translation rights and discussing
with me a number of crucial passages cannot be disjoined from the many
kindnesses I have received during my work on the Spanish mystics, which is
still proceeding, from himself and from his fellow-Carmelites in the province
of Castile. In dedicating this translation to them, I think particularly of P.
Silverio in Burgos, of P. Florencio del Nio Jess in Madrid, and of P.
Crisgono de Jess Sacramentado, together with the Fathers of the 'Convento de
la Santa' in vila.
The long
and weary process of revising the manuscript and proofs of this translation has
been greatly lightened by the co-operation and companionship of P. Edmund
Gurdon, Prior of the Cartuja de Miraflores, near Burgos, with whom I have
freely discussed all kinds of difficulties, both of substance and style, and
who has been good enough to read part of my proofs. From the quiet library of
his monastery, as well as from his gracious companionship, I have drawn not
only knowledge, but strength, patience and perseverance. And when at length,
after each of my visits, we have had to part, we have continued our labours by
correspondence, shaking hands, as it were, 'over a vast' and embracing 'from
the ends of opposd winds.'
Finally,
I owe a real debt to my publishers for allowing me to do this work without
imposing any such limitations of time as often accompany literary undertakings.
This and other considerations which I have received from them have made that
part of the work which has been done outside the study unusually pleasant and I
am correspondingly grateful.
E.
ALLISON PEERS.
University
of Liverpool.
Feast
of St. John of the Cross,
November
24, 1933.
Note. -- Wherever a commentary by St. John of the Cross is referred to, its
title is given in italics (e.g. Spiritual Canticle); where the
corresponding poem is meant, it is placed between quotation marks (e.g.
'Spiritual Canticle'). The abbreviation 'e.p.' stands for editio princeps
throughout.
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE
TO THE SECOND EDITION
DURING
the sixteen years which have elapsed since the publication of the first
edition, several reprints have been issued, and the demand is now such as to
justify a complete resetting. I have taken advantage of this opportunity to
revise the text throughout, and hope that in some of the more difficult
passages I may have come nearer than before to the Saint's mind. Recent
researches have necessitated a considerable amplification of introductions and
footnotes and greatly increased the length of the bibliography.
The only
modification which has been made consistently throughout the three volumes
relates to St. John of the Cross's quotations from Scripture. In translating
these I still follow him exactly, even where he himself is inexact, but I have
used the Douia Version (instead of the Authorized, as in the first edition) as
a basis for all Scriptural quotations, as well as in the footnote references
and the Scriptural index in Vol. III.
Far more
is now known of the life and times of St. John of the Cross than when this
translation of the Complete Works was first published, thanks
principally to the Historia del Carmen Descalzo of P. Silverio de Santa
Teresa, C.D, now General of his Order, and to the admirably documented Life of
the Saint written by P. Crisgono de Jesus Sacramentado, C.D., and published
(in Vida y Obras de San Juan de la Cruz) in the year after his untimely
death. This increased knowledge is reflected in many additional notes, and also
in the 'Outline of the Life of St. John of the Cross' (Vol. I, pp. xxv-xxviii),
which, for this edition, has been entirely recast. References are given to my Handbook
to the Life and Times of St. Teresa and St. John of the Cross, which
provides much background too full to be reproduced in footnotes and too complicated
to be compressed. The Handbook also contains numerous references to
contemporary events, omitted from the 'Outline' as being too remote from the
main theme to justify inclusion in a summary necessarily so condensed.
My
thanks for help in revision are due to kindly correspondents, too numerous to
name, from many parts of the world, who have made suggestions for the
improvement of the first edition; to the Rev. Professor David Knowles, of
Cambridge University, for whose continuous practical interest in this
translation I cannot be too grateful; to Miss I.L. McClelland, of Glasgow
University, who has read a large part of this edition in proof; to Dom Philippe
Chevallier, for material which I have been able to incorporate in it; to P.
JosŽ Antonio de Sobrino, S.J., for allowing me to quote freely from his
recently published Estudios; and, most of all, to M.R.P. Silverio de
Santa Teresa, C.D., and the Fathers of the International Carmelite College at
Rome, whose learning and experience, are, I hope, faintly reflected in this new
edition.
E.A.P.
June
30, 1941.
PRINCIPAL
ABBREVIATIONS
A.V.--Authorized
Version of the Bible (1611).
D.V.--Douai
Version of the Bible (1609).
C.W.S.T.J.--The Complete Works of
Saint Teresa of Jesus, translated and edited by E. Allison Peers from the
critical edition of P. Silverio de Santa Teresa, C.D. London, Sheed and Ward,
1946. 3 vols.
H.-E.
Allison Peers: Handbook to the Life and Times of St. Teresa and St. John of
the Cross. London, Burns Oates and Washbourne, 1953.
LL.--The
Letters of Saint Teresa of Jesus, translated and edited by E. Allison Peers
from the critical edition of P. Silverio de Santa Teresa, C.D. London, Burns
Oates and Washburne, 1951. 2 vols.
N.L.M.--National
Library of Spain (Biblioteca Nacional), Madrid.
Obras (P. Silv.)--Obras
de San Juan de la Cruz, Doctor de la Iglesia, editadas y anotadas pot el P.
Silverio de Santa Teresa, C.D. Burgos, 1929-31. 5 vols.
S.S.M.--E. Allison Peers: Studies
of the Spanish Mystics. Vol. I, London, Sheldon Press, 1927; 2nd ed.,
London, S.P.C.K., 1951. Vol. II, London, Sheldon Press, 1930.
Sobrino.-JosŽ
Antonio de Sobrino, S.J.: Estudios sobre San Juan de la Cruz y nuevos textos
de su obra. Madrid, 1950.
AN OUTLINE OF THE LIFE OF ST. JOHN
OF THE CROSS[2]
1542.
Birth of Juan de Yepes at Fontiveros (Hontiveros), near vila.
The day generally ascribed to this
event is June 24 (St. John Baptist's Day). No documentary evidence for it,
however, exists, the parish registers having been destroyed by a fire in 1544.
The chief evidence is an inscription, dated 1689, on the font of the parish
church at Fontiveros.
? c. 1543.
Death of Juan's father. 'After some years' the mother removes, with her family,
to ArŽvalo, and later to Medina del Campo.
? c.
1552-6. Juan goes to school at the Colegio de los Nios de la Doctrina, Medina.
c. 1556-7.
Don Antonio lvarez de Toledo takes him into a Hospital to which he has retired,
with the idea of his (Juan's) training for Holy Orders under his patronage.
? c.
1559-63. Juan attends the College of the Society of Jesus at Medina.
c. 1562.
Leaves the Hospital and the patronage of lvarez de Toledo.
1563.
Takes the Carmelite habit at St. Anne's, Medina del Campo, as Juan de San
Matas (Santo Mata).
The day is frequently assumed
(without any foundation) to have been the feast of St. Matthias (February 24),
but P. Silverio postulates a day in August or September and P. Crisgono thinks
February definitely improbable.
1564.
Makes his profession in the same priory -- probably in August or September and
certainly not earlier than May 21 and not later than October.
1564
(November). Enters the University of Salamanca as an artista. Takes a
three-year course in Arts (1564-7).
1565
(January 6). Matriculates at the University of Salamanca.
1567.
Receives priest's orders (probably in the summer).
1567 (?
September). Meets St. Teresa at Medina del Campo. Juan is thinking of
transferring to the Carthusian Order. St. Teresa asks him to join her Discalced
Reform and the projected first foundation for friars. He agrees to do so,
provided the foundation is soon made.
1567
(November). Returns to the University of Salamanca, where he takes a year's
course in theology.
1568.
Spends part of the Long Vacation at Medina del Campo. On August 10, accompanies
St. Teresa to Valladolid. In September, returns to Medina and later goes to
Avila and Duruelo.
1568
(November 28). Takes the vows of the Reform Duruelo as St. John of the Cross,
together with Antonio de Heredia (Antonio de Jesus), Prior of the Calced
Carmelites at Medina, and JosŽ de Cristo, another Carmelite from Medina.
1570 (June
11). Moves, with the Duruelo community, to Mancera de Abajo.
1570
(October, or possibly February 1571). Stays for about a month at Pastrana,
returning thence to Mancera.
1571 (?
January 25). Visits Alba de Tormes for the inauguration of a new convent there.
1571 (?
April). Goes to Alcal de Henares as Rector of the College of the Reform and
directs the Carmelite nuns.
1572
(shortly after April 23). Recalled to Pastrana to correct the rigours of the
new novice-master, Angel de San Gabriel.
1572
(between May and September). Goes to vila as confessor to the Convent of the
Incarnation. Remains there till 1577.
1574
(March). Accompanies St. Teresa from vila to Segovia, arriving on March 18.
Returns to vila about the end of the month.
1575-6
(Winter of: before February 1576). Kidnapped by the Calced and imprisoned at
Medina del Campo. Freed by the intervention of the Papal Nuncio, Ormaneto.
1577
(December 2 or 3). Kidnapped by the Calced and carried off to the Calced
Carmelite priory at Toledo as a prisoner.
1577-8.
Composes in prison 17 (or perhaps 30) stanzas of the 'Spiritual Canticle'
(i.e., as far as the stanza: 'Daughters of Jewry'); the poem with the refrain
'Although 'tis night'; and the stanzas beginning 'In principio erat verbum.' He
may also have composed the paraphrase of the psalm Super flumina and the
poem 'Dark Night.' (Note: All these poems, in verse form, will be found
in Vol. II of this edition.)
1578
(August 16 or shortly afterwards). Escapes to the convent of the Carmelite nuns
in Toledo, and is thence taken to his house by D. Pedro Gonzlez de Mendoza,
Canon of Toledo.
1578
(October 9). Attends a meeting of the Discalced superiors at Almodvar. Is sent
to El Calvario as Vicar, in the absence in Rome of the Prior.
1578 (end
of October). Stays for 'a few days' at Beas de Segura, near El Calvario.
Confesses the nuns at the Carmelite Convent of Beas.
1578
(November). Arrives at El Calvario.
1578-9
(November-June). Remains at El Calvario as Vicar. For a part of this time (probably
from the beginning of 1579), goes weekly to the convent of Beas to hear
confessions. During this period, begins his commentaries entitled The Ascent
of Mount Carmel (cf. pp. 9-314, below) and Spiritual Canticle
(translated in Vol. II).
1579 (June
14). Founds a college of the Reform at Baeza. 1579-82. Resides at Baeza as
Rector of the Carmelite college. Visits the Beas convent occasionally. Writes
more of the prose works begun at El Calvario and the rest of the stanzas of the
'Spiritual Canticle' except the last five, possibly with the commentaries to
the stanzas.
1580.
Death of his mother.
1581
(March 3). Attends the Alcal Chapter of the Reform. Appointed Third Definitor
and Prior of the Granada house of Los Mrtires. Takes up the latter office only
on or about the time of his election by the community in March 1582.
1581
(November 28). Last meeting with St. Teresa, at vila. On the next day, sets
out with two nuns for Beas (December 8-January 15) and Granada.
1582
(January 20). Arrives at Los Mrtires.
1582-8.
Mainly at Granada. Re-elected (or confirmed) as Prior of Los Mrtires by the
Chapter of Almodvar, 1583. Resides at Los Mrtires more or less continuously
till 1584 and intermittently afterwards. Visits the Beas convent occasionally.
Writes the last five stanzas of the 'Spiritual Canticle' during one of these
visits. At Los Mrtires, finishes the Ascent of Mount Carmel and
composes his remaining prose treatises. Writes Living Flame of Love
about 1585, in fifteen days, at the request of Doa Ana de Pealosa.
1585
(May). Lisbon Chapter appoints him Second Definitor and (till 1587)
Vicar-Provincial of Andalusia. Makes the following foundations: Mlaga,
February 17, 1585; Crdoba, May 18, 1586; La Manchuela (de JaŽn), October
12, 1586; Caravaca, December 18, 1586; Bujalance, June 24, 1587.
1587
(April). Chapter of Valladolid re-appoints him Prior of Los Mrtires. He ceases
to be Definitor and Vicar-Provincial.
1588 (June
19). Attends the first Chapter-General of the Reform in Madrid. Is elected
First Definitor and a consiliario.
1588
(August 10). Becomes Prior of Segovia, the central house of the Reform and the
headquarters of the Consulta. Acts as deputy for the Vicar-General, P. Doria,
during the latter's absences.
1590 (June
10). Re-elected First Definitor and a consiliario at the Chapter-General
Extraordinary, Madrid.
1591 (June
1). The Madrid Chapter-General deprives him of his offices and resolves to send
him to Mexico. (This latter decision was later revoked.)
1591
(August 10). Arrives at La Peuela.
1591
(September 12). Attacked by fever. (September Leaves La Peuela for beda.
(December 14) Dies at beda.
January
25, 1675. Beatified by Clement X.
December
26, 1726. Canonized by Benedict XIII.
August 24,
1926. Declared Doctor of the Church Universal by Pius XI.
GENERAL INTRODUCTION TO THE WORKS OF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS
I
DATES
AND METHODS OF COMPOSITION.
GENERAL
CHARACTERISTICS
WITH
regard to the times and places at which the works of St. John of the Cross were
written, and also with regard to the number of these works, there have existed,
from a very early date, considerable differences of opinion. Of internal
evidence from the Saint's own writings there is practically none, and such
external testimony as can be found in contemporary documents needs very careful
examination.
There
was no period in the life of St. John of the Cross in which he devoted himself
entirely to writing. He does not, in fact, appear to have felt any inclination
to do so: his books were written in response to the insistent and repeated
demands of his spiritual children. He was very much addicted, on the other
hand, to the composition of apothegms or maxims for the use of his penitents
and this custom he probably began as early as the days in which he was
confessor to the Convent of the Incarnation at vila, though his biographers
have no record of any maxims but those written at Beas. One of his best beloved
daughters however, Ana Mara de Jess, of the Convent of the Incarnation,
declared in her deposition, during the process of the Saint's canonization,
that he was accustomed to 'comfort those with whom he had to do, both by his
words and by his letters, of which this witness received a number, and also by
certain papers concerning holy things which this witness would greatly value if
she still had them.' Considering, the number of nuns to whom the Saint was
director at vila, it is to be presumed that M. Ana Mara was not the only
person whom he favoured. We may safely conclude, indeed, that there were many
others who shared the same privileges, and that, had we all these 'papers,'
they would comprise a large volume, instead of the few pages reproduced elsewhere
in this translation.
There is
a well-known story, preserved in the documents of the canonization process, of
how, on a December night of 1577, St. John, of the Cross was kidnapped by the
Calced Carmelites of vila and carried off from the Incarnation to their
priory.[3] Realizing that he had left
behind him some important papers, he contrived, on the next morning, to escape,
and returned to the Incarnation to destroy them while there was time to do so.
He was missed almost immediately and he had hardly gained his cell when his
pursuers were on his heels. In the few moments that remained to him he had time
to tear up these papers and swallow some of the most compromising. As the
original assault had not been unexpected, though the time of it was uncertain,
they would not have been very numerous. It is generally supposed that they
concerned the business of the infant Reform, of which the survival was at that
time in grave doubt. But it seems at least equally likely that some of them
might have been these spiritual maxims, or some more extensive instructions
which might be misinterpreted by any who found them. It is remarkable, at any
rate, that we have none of the Saint's writings belonging to this period
whatever.
All his
biographers tell us that he wrote some of the stanzas of the 'Spiritual
Canticle,' together with a few other poems, while he was imprisoned at Toledo.
'When he left the prison,' says M. Magdalena del Espritu Santo, 'he took with
him a little book in which he had written, while there, some verses based upon
the Gospel In principio erat Verbum, together with some couplets which
begin: "How well I know the fount that freely flows, Although 'tis
night," and the stanzas or liras that begin "Whither has
vanishd?" as far as the stanzas beginning "Daughters of Jewry."
The remainder of them the Saint composed later when he was Rector of the
College at Baeza. Some of the expositions were written at Beas, as answers to
questions put to him by the nuns; others at Granada. This little book, in which
the Saint wrote while in prison, he left in the Convent of Beas and on various
occasions I was commanded to copy it. Then someone took it from my cell -- who,
I never knew. The freshness of the words in this book, together with their
beauty and subtlety, caused me great wonder, and one day I asked the Saint if
God gave him those words which were so comprehensive and so lovely. And he
answered: "Daughter, sometimes God gave them to me and at other times I
sought them."'[4]
M.
Isabel de Jess Mara, who was a novice at Toledo when the Saint escaped from
his imprisonment there, wrote thus from Cuerva on November 2, 1614. 'I
remember, too, that, at the time we had him hidden in the church, he recited to
us some lines which he had composed and kept in his mind, and that one of the
nuns wrote them down as he repeated them. There were three poems -- all of them
upon the Most Holy Trinity, and so sublime and devout that they seem to
enkindle the reader. In this house at Cuerva we have some which begin:
"Far
away in the beginning,
Dwelt
the Word in God Most High."'[5]
The
frequent references to keeping his verses in his head and the popular
exaggeration of the hardships (great though these were) which the Saint had to
endure in Toledo have led some writers to affirm that he did not in fact write
these poems in prison but committed them to memory and transferred them to
paper at some later date. The evidence of M. Magdalena, however, would appear
to be decisive. We know, too, that the second of St. John of the Cross's
gaolers, Fray Juan de Santa Mara, was a kindly man who did all he could to
lighten his captive's sufferings; and his superiors would probably not have
forbidden him writing materials provided he wrote no letters.[6]
It
seems, then, that the Saint wrote in Toledo the first seventeen (or perhaps
thirty) stanzas of the 'Spiritual Canticle,' the nine parts of the poem 'Far
away in the beginning . . .,' the paraphrase of the psalm Super flumina
Babylonis and the poem 'How well I know the fount . . .' This was really a
considerable output of work, for, except perhaps when his gaoler allowed him to
go into another room, he had no light but that of a small oil-lamp or
occasionally the infiltration of daylight that penetrated a small interior
window.
Apart
from the statement of M. Magdalena already quoted, little more is known of what
the Saint wrote in El Calvario than of what he wrote in Toledo. From an
amplification made by herself of the sentences to which we have referred it
appears that almost the whole of what she had copied was taken from her; as the
short extracts transcribed by her are very similar to passages from the Saint's
writings we may perhaps conclude that much of the other material was also incorporated
in them. In that case he may well have completed a fair proportion of the Ascent
of Mount Carmel before leaving Beas.
It was
in El Calvario, too, and for the nuns of Beas, that the Saint drew the plan
called the 'Mount of Perfection' (referred to by M. Magdalena[7] and in the Ascent of Mount
Carmel and reproduced as the frontispiece to this volume) of which copies were
afterwards multiplied and distributed among Discalced houses. Its author wished
it to figure at the head of all his treatises, for it is a graphical representation
of the entire mystic way, from the starting-point of the beginner to the very
summit of perfection. His first sketch, which still survives, is a rudimentary
and imperfect one; before long, however, as M. Magdalena tells us, he evolved
another that was fuller and more comprehensive.
Just as
we owe to PP. Gracin and Salazar many precious relics of St. Teresa, so we owe
others of St. John of the Cross to M. Magdalena. Among the most valuable of
these is her own copy of the 'Mount,' which, after her death, went to the
'Desert'[8] of Our Lady of the Snows
established by the Discalced province of Upper Andalusia in the diocese of
Granada. It was found there by P. AndrŽs de la Encarnacin, of whom we
shall presently speak, and who immediately made a copy of it, legally certified
as an exact one and now in the National Library of Spain (MS. 6,296).
The
superiority of the second plan over the first is very evident. The first
consists simply of three parallel lines corresponding to three different paths
-- one on either side of the Mount, marked 'Road of the spirit of imperfection'
and one in the centre marked 'Path of Mount Carmel. Spirit of perfection.' In
the spaces between the paths are written the celebrated maxims which appear in
Book I, Chapter xiii, of the Ascent of Mount Carmel, in a somewhat
different form, together with certain others. At the top of the drawing are the
words 'Mount Carmel,' which are not found in the second plan, and below them is
the legend: 'There is no road here, for there is no law for the righteous man,'
together with other texts from Scripture.
The
second plan represents a number of graded heights, the loftiest of which is
planted with trees. Three paths, as in the first sketch, lead from the base of
the mount, but they are traced more artistically and have a more detailed
ascetic and mystical application. Those on either side, which denote the roads
of imperfection, are broad and somewhat tortuous and come to an end before the
higher stages of the mount are reached. The centre road, that of perfection, is
at first very narrow but gradually broadens and leads right up to the summit of
the mountain, which only the perfect attain and where they enjoy the iuge
convivium -- the heavenly feast. The different zones of religious
perfection, from which spring various virtues, are portrayed with much greater
detail than in the first plan. As we have reproduced the second plan in this
volume, it need not be described more fully.
We know
that St. John of the Cross used the 'Mount' very, frequently for all kinds of
religious instruction. 'By means of this drawing,' testified one of his
disciples, 'he used to teach us that, in order to attain to perfection, we must
not desire the good things of earth, nor those of Heaven; but that we must
desire naught save to seek and strive after the glory and honour of God our
Lord in all things . . . and this "Mount of Perfection" the said holy
father himself expounded to this Witness when he was his superior in the said
priory of Granada.'[9]
It seems
not improbable that the Saint continued writing chapters of the Ascent
and the Spiritual Canticle while he was Rector at Baeza,[10] whether in the College
itself, or in El Castellar, where he was accustomed often to go into retreat.
It was certainly here that he wrote the remaining stanzas of the Canticle
(as M. Magdalena explicitly tells us in words already quoted), except the last
five, which he composed rather later, at Granada. One likes to think that these
loveliest of his verses were penned by the banks of the Guadalimar, in the
woods of the Granja de Santa Ann, where he was in the habit of passing long
hours in communion with God. At all events the stanzas seem more in harmony
with such an atmosphere than with that of the College.
With
regard to the last five stanzas, we have definite evidence from a Beas nun, M.
Francisca de la Madre de Dios, who testifies in the Beatification process
(April 2, 1618) as follows:
And so,
when the said holy friar John of the Cross was in this convent one Lent (for
his great love for it brought him here from the said city of Granada, where he
was prior, to confess the nuns and preach to them) he was preaching to them one
day in the parlour, and this witness observed that on two separate occasions he
was rapt and lifted up from the ground; and when he came to himself he dissembled
and said: 'You saw how sleep overcame me!' And one day he asked this witness in
what her prayer consisted, and she replied: 'In considering the beauty of God
and in rejoicing that He has such beauty.' And the Saint was so pleased with
this that for some days he said the most sublime things concerning the beauty
of God, at which all marvelled. And thus, under the influence of this love, he
composed five stanzas, beginning 'Beloved, let us sing, And in thy beauty see
ourselves portray'd.' And in all this he showed that there was in his breast a
great love of God.
From a
letter which this nun wrote from Beas in 1629 to P. Jernimo de San JosŽ,
we gather that the stanzas were actually written at Granada and brought to
Beas, where
. . .
with every word that we spoke to him we seemed to be opening a door to the
fruition of the great treasures and riches which God had stored up in his soul.
If
there is a discrepancy here, however, it is of small importance; there is no
doubt as to the approximate date of the composition of these stanzas and of
their close connection with Beas.
The most
fruitful literary years for St. John of the Cross were those which he spent at
Granada. Here he completed the Ascent and wrote all his remaining
treatises. Both M. Magdalena and the Saint's closest disciple, P. Juan
Evangelista, bear witness to this. The latter writes from Granada to P.
Jernimo de San JosŽ, the historian of the Reform:
With
regard to having seen our venerable father write the books, I saw him write
them all; for, as I have said, I was ever at his side. The Ascent of Mount
Carmel and the Dark Night he wrote here at Granada, little by
little, continuing them only with many breaks. The Living Flame of Love
he also wrote in this house, when he was Vicar-Provincial, at the request of
Doa Ana de Pealosa, and he wrote it in fifteen days when he was very busy
here with an abundance of occupations. The first thing that he wrote was Whither
hast vanishd? and that too he wrote here; the stanzas he had written in
the prison at Toledo.[11]
In
another letter (February 18, 1630), he wrote to the same correspondent:
With
regard to our holy father's having written his books in this home, I will say
what is undoubtedly true -- namely, that he wrote here the commentary on the
stanzas Whither hast vanishd? and the Living Flame of Love, for
he began and ended them in my time. The Ascent of Mount Carmel I found
had been begun when I came here to take the habit, which was a year and a half
after the foundation of this house; he may have brought it from yonder already
begun. But the Dark Night he certainly wrote here, for I saw him writing
a part of it, and this is certain, because I saw it.[12]
These
and other testimonies might with advantage be fuller and more concrete, but at
least they place beyond doubt the facts that we have already set down.
Summarizing our total findings, we may assert that part of the 'Spiritual
Canticle,' with perhaps the 'Dark Night,' and the other poems enumerated, were
written in the Toledo prison; that at the request of some nuns he wrote at El
Calvario (1578-79) a few chapters of the Ascent and commentaries on some of the
stanzas of the 'Canticle'; that he composed further stanzas at Baeza (1579-81),
perhaps with their respective commentaries; and that, finally, he completed the
Canticle and the Ascent at Granada and wrote the whole of the Dark
Night and of the Living Flame -- the latter in a fortnight. All
these last works he wrote before the end of 1585, the first year in which he
was Vicar-Provincial.
Other
writings, most of them brief, are attributed to St. John of the Cross; they
will be discussed in the third volume of this edition, in which we shall
publish the minor works which we accept as genuine. The authorship of his four
major prose works -- the Ascent, Dark Night, Spiritual
Canticle and Living Flame -- no one has ever attempted to question,
even though the lack of extant autographs and the large number of copies have
made it difficult to establish correct texts. To this question we shall return
later.
The
characteristics of the writings of St. John of the Cross are so striking that
it would be difficult to confuse them with those of any other writer. His
literary personality stands out clearly from that of his Spanish contemporaries
who wrote on similar subjects. Both his style and his methods of exposition
bear the marks of a strong individuality.
If some
of these derive from his native genius and temperament, others are undoubtedly
reflections of his education and experience. The Aristotelian-Thomistic
philosophy, then at the height of its splendour, which he learned so thoroughly
in the classrooms of Salamanca University, characterizes the whole of his
writings, giving them a granite-like solidity even when their theme is such as
to defy human speculation. Though the precise extent of his debt to this
Salamancan training in philosophy has not yet been definitely assessed, the
fact of its influence is evident to every reader. It gives massiveness, harmony
and unity to both the ascetic and the mystical work of St. John of the Cross --
that is to say, to all his scientific writing.
Deeply,
however, as St. John of the Cross drew from the Schoolmen, he was also
profoundly indebted to many other writers. He was distinctly eclectic in his
reading and quotes freely (though less than some of his Spanish contemporaries)
from the Fathers and from the mediaeval mystics, especially from St. Thomas,
St. Bonaventura, Hugh of St. Victor and the pseudo-Areopagite. All that he
quotes, however, he makes his own, with the result that his chapters are never
a mass of citations loosely strung together, as are those of many other Spanish
mystics of his time.
When we
study his treatises -- principally that great composite work known as the Ascent
of Mount Carmel and the Dark Night -- we have the impression of a
master-mind that has scaled the heights of mystical science and from their
summit looks down upon and dominates the plain below and the paths leading
upward. We may well wonder what a vast contribution to the subject he would
have made had he been able to expound all the eight stanzas of his poem since
he covered so much ground in expounding no more than two. Observe with what
assurance and what mastery of subject and method he defines his themes and
divides his arguments, even when treating the most abstruse and controversial
questions. The most obscure phenomena he appears to illumine, as it were, with
one lightning flash of understanding, as though the explanation of them were
perfectly natural and easy. His solutions of difficult problems are not timid,
questioning and loaded with exceptions, but clear, definite and virile like the
man who proposes them. No scientific field, perhaps, has so many zones which
are apt to become vague and obscure as has that of mystical theology; and there
are those among the Saint's predecessors who seem to have made their permanent
abode in them. They give the impression of attempting to cloak vagueness in
verbosity, in order to avoid being forced into giving solutions of problems
which they find insoluble. Not so St. John of the Cross. A scientific dictator,
if such a person were conceivable, could hardly express himself with greater
clarity. His phrases have a decisive, almost a chiselled quality; where he errs
on the side of redundance, it is not with the intention of cloaking
uncertainty, but in order that he may drive home with double force the truths
which he desires to impress.
No less
admirable are, on the one hand, his synthetic skill and the logic of his
arguments, and, on the other, his subtle and discriminating analyses, which
weigh the finest shades of thought and dissect each subject with all the
accuracy of science. To his analytical genius we owe those finely balanced
statements, orthodox yet bold and fearless, which have caused clumsier
intellects to misunderstand him. It is not remarkable that this should have
occurred. The ease with which the unskilled can misinterpret genius is shown in
the history of many a heresy.
How much
of all this St. John of the Cross owed to his studies of scholastic philosophy
in the University of Salamanca, it is difficult to say. If we examine the
history of that University and read of its severe discipline we shall be in no
danger of under-estimating the effect which it must have produced upon so agile
and alert an intellect. Further, we note the constant parallelisms and the
comparatively infrequent (though occasionally important) divergences between
the doctrines of St. John of the Cross and St. Thomas, to say nothing of the
close agreement between the views of St. John of the Cross and those of the
Schoolmen on such subjects as the passions and appetites, the nature of the
soul, the relations between soul and body. Yet we must not forget the student
tag: Quod natura non dat, Salamtica non praestat. Nothing but natural
genius could impart the vigour and the clarity which enhance all St. John of
the Cross's arguments and nothing but his own deep and varied experience could
have made him what he may well be termed -- the greatest psychologist in the history
of mysticism.
Eminent,
too, was St. John of the Cross in sacred theology. The close natural connection
that exists between dogmatic and mystical theology and their continual
interdependence in practice make it impossible for a Christian teacher to excel
in the latter alone. Indeed, more than one of the heresies that have had their
beginnings in mysticism would never have developed had those who fell into them
been well grounded in dogmatic theology. The one is, as it were, the lantern
that lights the path of the other, as St. Teresa realized when she began to
feel the continual necessity of consulting theological teachers. If St. John of
the Cross is able to climb the greatest heights of mysticism and remain upon
them without stumbling or dizziness it is because his feet are invariably well
shod with the truths of dogmatic theology. The great mysteries -- those of the
Trinity, the Creation, the Incarnation and the Redemption -- and such dogmas as
those concerning grace, the gifts of the Spirit, the theological virtues, etc.,
were to him guide-posts for those who attempted to scale, and to lead others to
scale, the symbolic mount of sanctity.
It will
be remembered that the Saint spent but one year upon his theological course at
the University of Salamanca, for which reason many have been surprised at the
evident solidity of his attainments. But, apart from the fact that a mind so
keen and retentive as that of Fray Juan de San Matas could absorb in a year
what others would have failed to imbibe in the more usual two or three, we must
of necessity assume a far longer time spent in private study. For in one year
he could not have studied all the treatises of which he clearly demonstrates
his knowledge -- to say nothing of many others which he must have known. His
own works, apart from any external evidence, prove him to have been a
theologian of distinction.
In both
fields, the dogmatic and the mystical he was greatly aided by his knowledge of
Holy Scripture, which he studied continually, in the last years of his life, to
the exclusion, as it would seem, of all else. Much of it he knew by heart; the
simple devotional talks that he was accustomed to give were invariably studded
with texts, and he made use of passages from the Bible both to justify and to
illustrate his teaching. In the mystical interpretation of Holy Scripture, as
every student of mysticism knows, he has had few equals even among his fellow
Doctors of the Church Universal.
Testimonies
to his mastery of the Scriptures can be found in abundance. P. Alonso de la
Madre de Dios, el Asturicense, for example, who was personally
acquainted with him, stated in 1603 that 'he had a great gift and facility for
the exposition of the Sacred Scripture, principally of the Song of Songs,
Ecclesiasticus, Ecclesiastes, the Proverbs and the Psalms of David.'[13] His spiritual daughter,
that same Magdalena del Espritus Santo to whom we have several times referred,
affirms that St. John of the Cross would frequently read the Gospels to the
nuns of Beas and expound the letter and the spirit to them.[14] Fray Juan Evangelista says
in a well-known passage:
He was
very fond of reading in the Scriptures, and I never once saw him read any other
books than the Bible,[15] almost all of which he knew
by heart, St. Augustine Contra Haereses and the Flos Sanctorum.
When occasionally he preached (which was seldom) or gave informal addresses [plticas],
as he more commonly did, he never read from any book save the Bible. His
conversation, whether at recreation or at other times, was continually of God,
and he spoke so delightfully that, when he discoursed upon sacred things at
recreation, he would make us all laugh and we used greatly to enjoy going out.
On occasions when we held chapters, he would usually give devotional addresses
(plticas divinas) after supper, and he never failed to give an address
every night.[16]
Fray
Pablo de Santa Mara, who had also heard the Saint's addresses, wrote thus:
He was
a man of the most enkindled spirituality and of great insight into all that
concerns mystical theology and matters of prayer; I consider it impossible that
he could have spoken so well about all the virtues if he had not been most
proficient in the spiritual life, and I really think he knew the whole Bible by
heart, so far as one could judge from the various Biblical passages which he
would quote at chapters and in the refectory, without any great effort, but as
one who goes where the Spirit leads him.[17]
Nor
was this admiration for the expository ability of St. John of the Cross
confined to his fellow-friars, who might easily enough have been led into
hero-worship. We know that he was thought highly of in this respect by the
University of Alcal de Henares, where he was consulted as an authority. A Dr.
Villegas, Canon of Segovia Cathedral, has left on record his respect for him.
And Fray Jernimo de San JosŽ relates the esteem in which he was held at
the University of Baeza, which in his day enjoyed a considerable reputation for
Biblical studies:
There
were at that time at the University of Baeza many learned and spiritually
minded persons, disciples of that great father and apostle Juan de vila.[18] . . . All these doctors . .
. would repair to our venerable father as to an oracle from heaven and would
discuss with him both their own spiritual progress and that of souls committed
to their charge, with the result that they were both edified and astonished at
his skill. They would also bring him difficulties and delicate points connected
with Divine letters, and on these, too, he spoke with extraordinary energy and
illumination. One of these doctors, who had consulted him and listened to him
on various occasions, said that, although he had read deeply in St. Augustine
and St. John Chrysostom and other saints, and had found in them greater heights
and depths, he had found in none of them that particular kind of spirituality
in exposition which this great father applied to Scriptural passages.[19]
The
Scriptural knowledge of St. John of the Cross was, as this passage makes clear,
in no way merely academic. Both in his literal and his mystical interpretations
of the Bible, he has what we may call a 'Biblical sense,' which saves him from
such exaggerations as we find in other expositors, both earlier and
contemporary. One would not claim, of course, that among the many hundreds of
applications of Holy Scripture made by the Carmelite Doctor there are none that
can be objected to in this respect; but the same can be said of St. Augustine,
St. Ambrose, St. Gregory or St. Bernard, and no one would assert that, either
with them or with him, such instances are other than most exceptional.
To the
three sources already mentioned in which St. John of the Cross found
inspiration we must add a fourth -- the works of ascetic and mystical writers.
It is not yet possible to assert with any exactness how far the Saint made use
of these; for, though partial studies of this question have been attempted, a
complete and unbiased treatment of it has still to be undertaken. Here we can
do no more than give a few indications of what remains to be done and summarize
the present content of our knowledge.[20]
We may
suppose that, during his novitiate in Medina, the Saint read a number of
devotional books, one of which would almost certainly have been the Imitation
of Christ, and others would have included works which were translated into
Spanish by order of Cardinal Cisneros. The demands of a University course would
not keep him from pursuing such studies at Salamanca; the friar who chose a
cell from the window of which he could see the Blessed Sacrament, so that he
might spend hours in its company, would hardly be likely to neglect his
devotional reading. But we have not a syllable of direct external evidence as
to the titles of any of the books known to him.
Nor, for
that matter, have we much more evidence of this kind for any other part of his
life. Both his early Carmelite biographers and the numerous witnesses who gave
evidence during the canonization process describe at great length his
extraordinary penances, his love for places of retreat beautified by Nature,
the long hours that he spent in prayer and the tongue of angels with which he
spoke on things spiritual. But of his reading they say nothing except to
describe his attachment to the Bible, nor have we any record of the books
contained in the libraries of the religious houses that he visited. Yet if, as
we gather from the process, he spent little more than three hours nightly in
sleep, he must have read deeply of spiritual things by night as well as by day.
Some
clues to the nature of his reading may be gained from his own writings. It is
true that the clues are slender. He cites few works apart from the Bible and
these are generally liturgical books, such as the Breviary. Some of his
quotations from St. Augustine, St. Gregory and other of the Fathers are
traceable to these sources. Nevertheless, we have not read St. John of the
Cross for long before we find ourselves in the full current of mystical
tradition. It is not by means of more or less literal quotations that the Saint
produces this impression; he has studied his precursors so thoroughly that he
absorbs the substance of their doctrine and incorporates it so intimately in
his own that it becomes flesh of his flesh. Everything in his writings is fully
matured: he has no juvenilia. The mediaeval mystics whom he uses are too often
vague and undisciplined; they need someone to select from them and unify them,
to give them clarity and order, so that their treatment of mystical theology
may have the solidity and substance of scholastic theology. To have done this
is one of the achievements of St. John of the Cross.
We are
convinced, then, by an internal evidence which is chiefly of a kind in which no
chapter and verse can be given, that St. John of the Cross read widely in
mediaeval mystical theology and assimilated a great part of what he read. The
influence of foreign writers upon Spanish mysticism, though it was once denied,
is to-day generally recognized. It was inevitable that it should have been
considerable in a country which in the sixteenth century had such a high degree
of culture as Spain. Plotinus, in a diluted form, made his way into Spanish
mysticism as naturally as did Seneca into Spanish asceticism. Plato and
Aristotle entered it through the two greatest minds that Christianity has known
-- St. Augustine and St. Thomas. The influence of the Platonic theories of love
and beauty and of such basic Aristotelian theories as the origin of knowledge
is to be found in most of the Spanish mystics, St. John of the Cross among
them.
The
pseudo-Dionysius was another writer who was considered a great authority by the
Spanish mystics. The importance attributed to his works arose partly from the
fact that he was supposed to have been one of the first disciples of the
Apostles; many chapters from mystical works of those days all over Europe are
no more than glosses of the pseudo-Areopagite. He is followed less, however, by
St. John of the Cross than by many of the latter's contemporaries.
Other
influences upon the Carmelite Saint were St. Gregory, St. Bernard and Hugh and
Richard of St. Victor, many of whose maxims were in the mouths of the mystics
in the sixteenth century. More important, probably, than any of these was the
Fleming, Ruysbroeck, between whom and St. John of the Cross there were
certainly many points of contact. The Saint would have read him, not in the
original, but in Surius' Latin translation of 1552, copies of which are known
to have been current in Spain.[21] Together with Ruysbroeck
may be classed Suso, Denis the Carthusian, Herp, Kempis and various other
writers.
Many of
the ideas and phrases which we find in St. John of the Cross, as in other
writers, are, of course, traceable to the common mystical tradition rather than
to any definite individual influence. The striking metaphor of the ray of light
penetrating the room, for example, which occurs in the first chapter of the
pseudo-Areopagite's De Mystica Theologia, has been used continually by
mystical writers ever since his time. The figures of the wood consumed by fire,
of the ladder, the mirror, the flame of love and the nights of sense and spirit
had long since become naturalized in mystical literature. There are many more
such examples.
The
originality of St. John of the Cross is in no way impaired by his employment of
this current mystical language: such an idea might once have been commonly
held, but has long ceased to be put forward seriously. His originality, indeed,
lies precisely in the use which he made of language that he found near to hand.
It is not going too far to liken the place taken by St. John of the Cross in
mystical theology to that of St. Thomas in dogmatic; St. Thomas laid hold upon
the immense store of material which had accumulated in the domain of dogmatic
theology and subjected it to the iron discipline of reason. That St. John of
the Cross did the same for mystical theology is his great claim upon our
admiration. Through St. Thomas speaks the ecclesiastical tradition of many ages
on questions of religious belief; through St. John speaks an equally venerable
tradition on questions of Divine love. Both writers combined sainthood with
genius. Both opened broad channels to be followed of necessity by Catholic
writers through the ages to come till theology shall lose itself in that vast
ocean of truth and love which is God. Both created instruments adequate to the
greatness of their task: St. Thomas' clear, decisive reasoning processes give
us the formula appropriate to each and every need of the understanding; St.
John clothes his teaching in mellower and more appealing language, as befits
the exponent of the science of love. We may describe the treatises of St. John
of the Cross as the true Summa Angelica of mystical theology.
II
OUTSTANDING
QUALITIES AND DEFECTS OF THE SAINT'S STYLE
The profound and original thought which St. John of the Cross bestowed upon
so abstruse a subject, and upon one on which there was so little classical
literature in Spanish when he wrote, led him to clothe his ideas in a language
at once energetic, precise and of a high degree of individuality. His style
reflects his thought, but it reflects the style of no school and of no other
writer whatsoever.
This is
natural enough, for thought and feeling were always uppermost in the Saint:
style and language take a place entirely subordinate to them. Never did he
sacrifice any idea to artistic combinations of words; never blur over any
delicate shade of thought to enhance some rhythmic cadence of musical prose.
Literary form (to use a figure which he himself might have coined) is only
present at all in his works in the sense in which the industrious and
deferential servant is present in the ducal apartment, for the purpose of
rendering faithful service to his lord and master. This subordination of style
to content in the Saint's work is one of its most eminent qualities. He is a
great writer, but not a great stylist. The strength and robustness of his
intellect everywhere predominate.
This to
a large extent explains the negligences which we find in his style, the
frequency with which it is marred by repetitions and its occasional
degeneration into diffuseness. The long, unwieldy sentences, one of which will
sometimes run to the length of a reasonably sized paragraph, are certainly a
trial to many a reader. So intent is the Saint upon explaining, underlining and
developing his points so that they shall be apprehended as perfectly as may be,
that he continually recurs to what he has already said, and repeats words,
phrases and even passages of considerable length without scruple. It is only
fair to remind the reader that such things were far commoner in the Golden Age
than they are to-day; most didactic Spanish prose of that period would be
notably improved, from a modern standpoint, if its volume were cut down by
about one-third.
Be that
as it may, these defects in the prose of St. John of the Cross are amply
compensated by the fullness of his phraseology, the wealth and profusion of his
imagery, the force and the energy of his argument. He has only to be compared
with the didactic writers who were his contemporaries for this to become
apparent. Together with Luis de Granada, Luis de Len, Juan de los ngeles and
Luis de la Puente,[22] he created a genuinely
native language, purged of Latinisms, precise and eloquent, which Spanish
writers have used ever since in writing of mystical theology.
The most
sublime of all the Spanish mystics, he soars aloft on the wings of Divine love
to heights known to hardly any of them. Though no words can express the
loftiest of the experiences which he describes, we are never left with the
impression that word, phrase or image has failed him. If it does not exist, he
appears to invent it, rather than pause in his description in order to search
for an expression of the idea that is in his mind or be satisfied with a prolix
paraphrase. True to the character of his thought, his style is always forceful
and energetic, even to a fault.
We have
said nothing of his poems, for indeed they call for no purely literary
commentary. How full of life the greatest of them are, how rich in meaning, how
unforgettable and how inimitable, the individual reader may see at a glance or
may learn from his own experience. Many of their exquisite figures their author
owes, directly or indirectly, to his reading and assimilation of the Bible.
Some of them, however, have acquired a new life in the form which he has given
them. A line here, a phrase there, has taken root in the mind of some later poet
or essayist and has given rise to a new work of art, to many lovers of which
the Saint who lies behind it is unknown.
It is
perhaps not an exaggeration to say that the verse and prose works combined of
St. John of the Cross form at once the most grandiose and the most melodious
spiritual canticle to which any one man has ever given utterance. It is
impossible, in the space at our disposal, to quote at any length from the
Spanish critics who have paid tribute to its comprehensiveness and profundity.
We must content ourselves with a short quotation characterizing the Saint's
poems, taken from the greatest of these critics, Marcelino MenŽndez
Pelayo, who, besides referring frequently to St. John of the Cross in such of
his mature works as the Heterodoxos, Ideas EstŽticas and Ciencia
Espaola, devoted to him a great part of the address which he delivered as
a young man at his official reception into the Spanish Academy under the title
of 'Mystical Poetry.'
'So
sublime,' wrote MenŽndez Pelayo, 'is this poetry [of St. John of the
Cross] that it scarcely seems to belong to this world at all; it is hardly
capable of being assessed by literary criteria. More ardent in its passion than
any profane poetry, its form is as elegant and exquisite, as plastic and as
highly figured as any of the finest works of the Renaissance. The spirit of God
has passed through these poems every one, beautifying and sanctifying them on
its way.'
III
DIFFUSION
OF THE WRITINGS OF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS -- LOSS OF THE AUTOGRAPHS -- GENERAL
CHARACTERISTICS OF THE MANUSCRIPTS
The
outstanding qualities of St. John of the Cross's writings were soon recognized
by the earliest of their few and privileged readers. All such persons, of
course, belonged to a small circle composed of the Saint's intimate friends and
disciples. As time went on, the circle widened repeatedly; now it embraces the
entire Church, and countless individual souls who are filled with the spirit of
Christianity.
First of
all, the works were read and discussed in those loci of evangelical zeal which
the Saint had himself enkindled, by his word and example, at Beas, El Calvario,
Baeza and Granada. They could not have come more opportunely. St. Teresa's
Reform had engendered a spiritual alertness and energy reminiscent of the
earliest days of Christianity. Before this could in any way diminish, her first
friar presented the followers of them both with spiritual food to nourish and
re-create their souls and so to sustain the high degree of zeal for Our Lord
which He had bestowed upon them.
In one
sense, St. John of the Cross took up his pen in order to supplement the
writings of St. Teresa; on several subjects, for example, he abstained from
writing at length because she had already treated of them.[23] Much of the work of the two
Saints, however, of necessity covers the same ground, and thus the great
mystical school of the Spanish Carmelites is reinforced at its very beginnings
in a way which must be unique in the history of mysticism. The writings of St.
Teresa and St. John of the Cross, though of equal value and identical aim, are
in many respects very different in their nature; together they cover almost the
entire ground of orthodox mysticism, both speculative and experimental. The
Carmelite mystics who came after them were able to build upon a broad and sure
foundation.
The
writings of St. John of the Cross soon became known outside the narrow circle
of his sons and daughters in religion. In a few years they had gone all over
Spain and reached Portugal, France and Italy. They were read by persons of
every social class, from the Empress Maria of Austria, sister of Philip II, to
the most unlettered nuns of St. Teresa's most remote foundations. One of the
witnesses at the process for the beatification declared that he knew of no
works of which there existed so many copies, with the exception of the Bible.
We may
fairly suppose (and the supposition is confirmed by the nature of the extant
manuscripts) that the majority of the early copies were made by friars and nuns
of the Discalced Reform. Most Discalced houses must have had copies and others
were probably in the possession of members of other Orders. We gather, too,
from various sources, that even lay persons managed to make or obtain copies of
the manuscripts.
How many
of these copies, it will be asked, were made directly from the autographs? So
vague is the available evidence on this question that it is difficult to
attempt any calculation of even approximate reliability. All we can say is that
the copies made by, or for, the Discalced friars and nuns themselves are the
earliest and most trustworthy, while those intended for the laity were frequently
made at third or fourth hand. The Saint himself seems to have written out only
one manuscript of each treatise and none of these has come down to us. Some
think that he destroyed the manuscripts copied with his own hand, fearing that
they might come to be venerated for other reasons than that of the value of
their teaching. He was, of course, perfectly capable of such an act of
abnegation; once, as we know, in accordance with his own principles, he burned
some letters of St. Teresa, which he had carried with him for years, for no
other reason than that he realized that he was becoming attached to them.[24]
The only
manuscript of his that we possess consists of a few pages of maxims, some
letters and one or two documents which he wrote when he was Vicar-Provincial of
Andalusia.[25] So numerous and so thorough
have been the searches made for further autographs during the last three
centuries that further discoveries of any importance seem most unlikely. We
have, therefore, to console ourselves with manuscripts, such as the Sanlcar de
Barrameda Codex of the Spiritual Canticle, which bear the Saint's
autograph corrections as warrants of their integrity.
The
vagueness of much of the evidence concerning the manuscripts to which we have
referred extends to the farthest possible limit -- that of using the word
'original' to indicate 'autograph' and 'copy' indifferently. Even in the
earliest documents we can never be sure which sense is intended. Furthermore,
there was a passion in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries for describing
all kinds of old manuscripts as autographs, and thus we find copies so
described in which the hand bears not the slightest resemblance to that of the Saint,
as the most superficial collation with a genuine specimen of his hand would
have made evident. We shall give instances of this in describing the extant
copies of individual treatises. One example of a general kind, however, may be
quoted here to show the extent to which the practice spread. In a statement
made, with reference to one of the processes, at the convent of Discalced
Carmelite nuns of Valladolid, a certain M. Mara de la Trinidad deposed 'that a
servant of God, a Franciscan tertiary named Ana Mara, possesses the originals
of the books of our holy father, and has heard that he sent them to the Order.'
Great importance was attached to this deposition and every possible measure was
taken to find the autographs -- needless to say, without result.[26]
With the
multiplication of the number of copies of St. John of the Cross's writings, the
number of variants naturally multiplied also. The early copies having all been
made for devotional purposes, by persons with little or no palaeographical
knowledge, many of whom did not even exercise common care, it is not surprising
that there is not a single one which can compare in punctiliousness with
certain extant eighteenth-century copies of documents connected with St. John
of the Cross and St. Teresa. These were made by a painstaking friar called
Manuel de Santa Mara, whose scrupulousness went so far that he reproduced
imperfectly formed letters exactly as they were written, adding the parts that
were lacking (e.g., the tilde over the letter ) with ink of
another colour.
We may
lament that this good father had no predecessor like himself to copy the
Saint's treatises, but it is only right to say that the copies we possess are
sufficiently faithful and numerous to give us reasonably accurate versions of
their originals. The important point about them is that they bear no signs of
bad faith, nor even of the desire (understandable enough in those unscientific
days) to clarify the sense of their original, or even to improve upon its
teaching. Their errors are often gross ones, but the large majority of them are
quite easy to detect and put right. The impression to this effect which one
obtains from a casual perusal of almost any of these copies is quite definitely
confirmed by a comparison of them with copies corrected by the Saint or written
by the closest and most trusted of his disciples. It may be added that some of
the variants may, for aught we know to the contrary, be the Saint's own work,
since it is not improbable that he may have corrected more than one copy of some
of his writings, and not been entirely consistent.
There
are, broadly speaking, two classes into which the copies (more particularly
those of the Ascent and the Dark Night) may be divided. One class
aims at a more or less exact transcription; the other definitely sets out to
abbreviate. Even if the latter class be credited with a number of copies which
hardly merit the name, the former is by far the larger, and, of course, the
more important, though it must not be supposed that the latter is unworthy of
notice. The abbreviators generally omit whole chapters, or passages, at a time,
and, where they are not for the moment doing this, or writing the connecting
phrases necessary to repair their mischief, they are often quite faithful to
their originals. Since they do not, in general, attribute anything to their
author that is not his, no objection can be taken, on moral grounds, to their
proceeding, though, in actual fact, the results are not always happy. Their
ends were purely practical and devotional and they made no attempt to pass
their compendia as full-length transcriptions.
With
regard to the Spiritual Canticle and the Living Flame of Love, of
each of which there are two redactions bearing indisputable marks of the
author's own hand, the classification of the copies will naturally depend upon
which redaction each copy the more nearly follows. This question will be
discussed in the necessary detail in the introduction to each of these works,
and to the individual introductions to the four major treatises we must refer
the reader for other details of the manuscripts. In the present pages we have
attempted only a general account of these matters. It remains to add that our
divisions of each chapter into paragraphs follow the manuscripts throughout
except where indicated. The printed editions, as we shall see, suppressed these
divisions, but, apart from their value to the modern reader, they are
sufficiently nearly identical in the various copies to form one further
testimony to their general high standard of reliability.
IV
INTEGRITY
OF THE SAINT'S WORK -- INCOMPLETE CONDITION OF THE 'ASCENT' AND THE 'NIGHT' --
DISPUTED QUESTIONS
The principal lacuna in St. John of the Cross's writings, and, from the
literary standpoint, the most interesting, is the lack of any commentary to the
last five stanzas[27] of the poem 'Dark Night.'
Such a commentary is essential to the completion of the plan which the Saint
had already traced for himself in what was to be, and, in spite of its
unfinished condition, is in fact, his most rigorously scientific treatise. 'All
the doctrine,' he wrote in the Argument of the Ascent, 'whereof I intend
to treat in this Ascent of Mount Carmel is included in the following
stanzas, and in them is also described the manner of ascending to the summit of
the Mount, which is the high estate of perfection which we here call union of
the soul with God.' This leaves no doubt but that the Saint intended to treat
the mystical life as one whole, and to deal in turn with each stage of the road
to perfection, from the beginnings of the Purgative Way to the crown and summit
of the life of Union. After showing the need for such a treatise as he proposes
to write, he divides the chapters on Purgation into four parts corresponding to
the Active and Passive nights of Sense and of Spirit. These, however,
correspond only to the first two stanzas of his poem; they are not, as we shall
shortly see, complete, but their incompleteness is slight compared with that of
the work as a whole.
Did St.
John of the Cross, we may ask, ever write a commentary on those last five
stanzas, which begin with a description of the state of Illumination:
'Twas
that light guided me,
More
surely than the noonday's brightest glare --
and
end with that of the life of Union:
All things
for me that day
Ceas'd,
as I slumber'd there,
Amid
the lilies drowning all my care?
If
we suppose that he did, we are faced with the question of its fate and with the
strange fact that none of his contemporaries makes any mention of such a
commentary, though they are all prolific in details of far less importance.
Conjectures
have been ventured on this question ever since critical methods first began to
be applied to St. John of the Cross's writings. A great deal was written about
it by P. AndrŽs de la Encarnacin, to whom his superiors entrusted the
task of collecting and editing the Saint's writings, and whose findings, though
they suffer from the defects of an age which from a modern standpoint must be
called unscientific, and need therefore to be read with the greatest caution,
are often surprisingly just and accurate. P. AndrŽs begins by referring to
various places where St. John of the Cross states that he has treated certain
subjects and proposes to treat others, about which nothing can be found in his
writings. This, he says, may often be due to an oversight on the writer's part
or to changes which new experiences might have brought to his mode of thinking.
On the other hand, there are sometimes signs that these promises have been
fulfilled: the sharp truncation of the argument, for example, at the end of
Book III of the Ascent suggests that at least a few pages are missing,
in which case the original manuscript must have been mutilated,[28] for almost all the extant
copies break off at the same word. It is unthinkable, as P. AndrŽs says,
that the Saint 'should have gone on to write the Night without
completing the Ascent, for all these five books[29] are integral parts of one
whole, since they all treat of different stages of one spiritual path.'[30]
It may
be argued in the same way that St. John of the Cross would not have gone on to
write the commentaries on the 'Spiritual Canticle' and the 'Living Flame of
Love' without first completing the Dark Night. P. AndrŽs goes so
far as to say that the very unwillingness which the Saint displayed towards
writing commentaries on the two latter poems indicates that he had already
completed the others; otherwise, he could easily have excused himself from the
later task on the plea that he had still to finish the earlier.
Again,
St. John of the Cross declares very definitely, in the prologue to the Dark
Night, that, after describing in the commentary on the first two stanzas
the effects of the two passive purgations of the sensual and the spiritual part
of man, he will devote the six remaining stanzas to expounding 'various and
wondrous effects of the spiritual illumination and union of love with God.'
Nothing could be clearer than this. Now, in the commentary on the 'Living
Flame,' argues P. AndrŽs, he treats at considerable length of simple
contemplation and adds that he has written fully of it in several chapters of
the Ascent and the Night, which he names; but not only do we not
find the references in two of the chapters enumerated by him, but he makes no
mention of several other chapters in which the references are of considerable
fullness. The proper deductions from these facts would seem to be, first, that
we do not possess the Ascent and the Night in the form in which
the Saint wrote them, and, second, that in the missing chapters he referred to
the subject under discussion at much greater length than in the chapters we
have.
Further,
the practice of St. John of the Cross was not to omit any part of his
commentaries when for any reason he was unable or unwilling to write them at
length, but rather to abbreviate them. Thus, he runs rapidly through the third
stanza of the Night and through the fourth stanza of the Living Flame:
we should expect him in the same way to treat the last three stanzas of the Night
with similar brevity and rapidity, but not to omit them altogether.
Such are
the principal arguments used by P. AndrŽs which have inclined many critics
to the belief that St. John of the Cross completed these treatises. Other of
his arguments, which to himself were even more convincing, have now lost much
weight. The chief of these are the contention that, because a certain Fray
Agustn Antolnez (b. 1554), in expounding these same poems, makes no mention
of the Saint's having failed to expound five stanzas of the Night, he
did therefore write an exposition of them;[31] and the supposition that
the Living Flame was written before the Spiritual Canticle, and that therefore,
when the prologue to the Living Flame says that the author has already
described the highest state of perfection attainable in this life, it cannot be
referring to the Canticle and must necessarily allude to passages, now lost,
from the Dark Night.[32]
Our own
judgment upon this much debated question is not easily delivered. On the one
hand, the reasons why St. John of the Cross should have completed his work are
perfectly sound ones and his own words in the Ascent and the Dark
Night are a clear statement of his intentions. Furthermore, he had ample
time to complete it, for he wrote other treatises at a later date and he
certainly considered the latter part of the Dark Night to be more
important than the former. On the other hand, it is disconcerting to find not
even the briefest clear reference to this latter part in any of his subsequent
writings, when both the Living Flame and the Spiritual Canticle
offered so many occasions for such a reference to an author accustomed to refer
his readers to his other treatises. Again, his contemporaries, who were keenly
interested in his work, and mention such insignificant things as the Cautions,
the Maxims and the 'Mount of Perfection,' say nothing whatever of the
missing chapters. None of his biographers speaks of them, nor does P. Alonso de
la Madre de Dios, who examined the Saint's writings in detail immediately after
his death and was in touch with his closest friends and companions. We are
inclined, therefore, to think that the chapters in question were never written.[33] Is not the following
sequence of probable facts the most tenable? We know from P. Juan Evangelista
that the Ascent and the Dark Night were written at different
times, with many intervals of short or long duration. The Saint may well have
entered upon the Spiritual Canticle, which was a concession to the
affectionate importunity of M. Ann de Jess, with every intention of returning
later to finish his earlier treatise. But, having completed the Canticle,
he may equally well have been struck with the similarity between a part of it
and the unwritten commentary on the earlier stanzas, and this may have decided
him that the Dark Night needed no completion, especially as the Living
Flame also described the life of Union. This hypothesis will explain all
the facts, and seems completely in harmony with all we know of St. John of the
Cross, who was in no sense, as we have already said, a writer by profession. If
we accept it, we need not necessarily share the views which we here assume to
have been his. Not only would the completion of the Dark Night have
given us new ways of approach to so sublime and intricate a theme, but this
would have been treated in a way more closely connected with the earlier stages
of the mystical life than was possible in either the Living Flame or the
Canticle.
We ought
perhaps to notice one further supposition of P. AndrŽs, which has been
taken up by a number of later critics: that St. John of the Cross completed the
commentary which we know as the Dark Night, but that on account of the
distinctive nature of the contents of the part now lost he gave it a separate
title.[34] The only advantage of this
theory seems to be that it makes the hypothesis of the loss of the commentary
less improbable. In other respects it is as unsatisfactory as the theory of P.
AndrŽs,[35] of which we find a variant
in M. Baruzi,[36] that the Saint thought the
commentary too bold, and too sublime, to be perpetuated, and therefore
destroyed it, or, at least, forbade its being copied. It is surely unlikely
that the sublimity of these missing chapters would exceed that of the Canticle
or the Living Flame.
This
seems the most suitable place to discuss a feature of the works of St. John of
the Cross to which allusion is often made -- the little interest which he took
in their division into books and chapters and his lack of consistency in
observing such divisions when he had once made them. A number of examples may
be cited. In the first chapter of the Ascent of Mount Carmel, using the
words 'part' and 'book' as synonyms, he makes it clear that the Ascent
and the Dark Night are to him one single treatise. 'The first night or
purgation,' he writes, 'is of the sensual part of the soul, which is treated in
the present stanza, and will be treated in the first part of this book. And the
second is of the spiritual part; of this speaks the second stanza, which
follows; and of this we shall treat likewise, in the second and the third part,
with respect to the activity of the soul; and in the fourth part, with respect
to its passivity.'[37] The author's intention here
is evident. Purgation may be sensual or spiritual, and each of these kinds may
be either active or passive. The most logical proceeding would be to divide the
whole of the material into four parts or books: two to be devoted to active
purgation and two to passive.[38] St. John of the Cross,
however, devotes two parts to active spiritual purgation -- one to that of the
understanding and the other to that of the memory and the will. In the Night,
on the other hand, where it would seem essential to devote one book to the
passive purgation of sense and another to that of spirit, he includes both in
one part, the fourth. In the Ascent, he divides the content of each of
his books into various chapters; in the Night, where the argument is
developed like that of the Ascent, he makes a division into paragraphs
only, and a very irregular division at that, if we may judge by the copies that
have reached us. In the Spiritual Canticle and the Living Flame
he dispenses with both chapters and paragraphs. The commentary on each stanza
here corresponds to a chapter.
Another
example is to be found in the arrangement of his expositions. As a rule, he
first writes down the stanzas as a whole, then repeats each in turn before
expounding it, and repeats each line also in its proper place in the same way.
At the beginning of each treatise he makes some general observations -- in the
form either of an argument and prologue, as in the Ascent; of a prologue
and general exposition, as in the Night; of a prologue alone, as in the
first redaction of the Canticle and in the Living Flame; or of a
prologue and argument, as in the second redaction of the Canticle. In
the Ascent and the Night, the first chapter of each book contains
the 'exposition of the stanzas,' though some copies describe this, in Book III
of the Ascent, as an 'argument.' In the Night, the book dealing
with the Night of Sense begins with the usual 'exposition'; that of the Night
of the Spirit, however, has nothing to correspond with it.
In the
first redaction of the Spiritual Canticle, St. John of the Cross first
sets down the poem, then a few lines of 'exposition' giving the argument of the
stanza, and finally the commentary upon each line. Sometimes he comments upon
two or three lines at once. In the second redaction, he prefaces almost every
stanza with an 'annotation,' of which there is none in the first redaction
except before the commentary on the thirteenth and fourteenth stanzas. The
chief purpose of the 'annotation' is to link the argument of each stanza with
that of the stanza preceding it; occasionally the annotation and the exposition
are combined.
It is
clear from all this that, in spite of his orderly mind, St. John of the Cross
was no believer in strict uniformity in matters of arrangement which would seem
to demand such uniformity once they had been decided upon. They are, of course,
of secondary importance, but the fact that the inconsistencies are the work of
St. John of the Cross himself, and not merely of careless copyists, who have
enough else to account for, is of real moment in the discussion of critical
questions which turn on the Saint's accuracy.
Another
characteristic of these commentaries is the inequality of length as between the
exposition of certain lines and stanzas. While some of these are dealt with
fully, the exposition of others is brought to a close with surprising rapidity,
even though it sometimes seems that much more needs to be said: we get the
impression that the author was anxious to push his work forward or was pressed
for time. He devotes fourteen long chapters of the Ascent to glossing
the first two lines of the first stanza and dismisses the three remaining lines
in a few sentences. In both the Ascent and the Night, indeed, the
stanzas appear to serve only as a pretext for introducing the great wealth of
ascetic and mystical teaching which the Saint has gathered together. In the Canticle
and the Living Flame, on the other hand, he keeps much closer to his
stanzas, though here, too, there is a considerable inequality. One result of
the difference in nature between these two pairs of treatises is that the Ascent
and the Night are more solidly built and more rigidly doctrinal, whereas
in the Canticle and the Flame there is more movement and more
poetry.
V
HISTORY
OF THE PUBLICATION OF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS'S WRITINGS -- THE FIRST EDITION
IT
seems strange that mystical works of such surpassing value should not have been
published till twenty-seven years after their author's death, for not only were
the manuscript copies insufficient to propagate them as widely as those who
made them would have desired, but the multiplication of these copies led to an
ever greater number of variants in the text. Had it but been possible for the
first edition of them to have been published while their author still lived, we
might to-day have a perfect text. But the probability is that, if such an idea
had occurred to St. John of the Cross, he would have set it aside as
presumptuous. In allowing copies to be made he doubtless never envisaged their
going beyond the limited circle of his Order.
We have
found no documentary trace of any project for an edition of these works during
their author's lifetime. The most natural time for a discussion of the matter
would have been in September 1586, when the Definitors of the Order, among whom
was St. John of the Cross, met in Madrid and decided to publish the works of
St. Teresa.[39] Two years earlier, when he
was writing the Spiritual Canticle, St. John of the Cross had expressed
a desire for the publication of St. Teresa's writings and assumed that this
would not be long delayed.[40] As we have seen, he
considered his own works as complementary to those of St. Teresa,[41] and one would have thought
that the simultaneous publication of the writings of the two Reformers would
have seemed to the Definitors an excellent idea.
After
his death, it is probable that there was no one at first who was both able and
willing to undertake the work of editor; for, as is well known, towards the end
of his life the Saint had powerful enemies within his Order who might well have
opposed the project, though, to do the Discalced Reform justice, it was brought
up as early as ten years after his death. A resolution was passed at the
Chapter-General of the Reform held in September 1601, to the effect 'that the
works of Fr. Juan de la Cruz be printed and that the Definitors, Fr. Juan de
Jess Mara and Fr. Toms [de Jess], be instructed to examine and approve
them.'[42] Two years later (July 4,
1603), the same Chapter, also meeting in Madrid, 'gave leave to the Definitor,
Fr. Toms [de Jess], for the printing of the works of Fr. Juan de la Cruz,
first friar of the Discalced Reform.'[43]
It is
not known (since the Chapter Book is no longer extant) why the matter lapsed
for two years, but Fr. Toms de Jess, the Definitor to whom alone it was
entrusted on the second occasion, was a most able man, well qualified to edit
the works of his predecessor.[44] Why, then, we may wonder,
did he not do so? The story of his life in the years following the commission
may partly answer this question. His definitorship came to an end in 1604, when
he was elected Prior of the 'desert' of San JosŽ de las Batuecas. After
completing the customary three years in this office, during which time he could
have done no work at all upon the edition, he was elected Prior of the
Discalced house at Zaragoza. But at this point Paul V sent for him to Rome and
from that time onward his life followed other channels.
The next
attempt to accomplish the project was successful. The story begins with a
meeting between the Definitors of the Order and Fr. JosŽ de Jess Mara,
the General, at VŽlez-Mlaga, where a new decision to publish the works of
St. John of the Cross was taken and put into effect (as a later resolution has
it) 'without any delay or condition whatsoever.'[45] The enterprise suffered a
setback, only a week after it had been planned, in the death of the learned
Jesuit P. Surez, who was on terms of close friendship with the Discalced and
had been appointed one of the censors. But P. Diego de Jess (Salablanca),
Prior of the Discalced house at Toledo, to whom its execution was entrusted,
lost no time in accomplishing his task; indeed, one would suppose that he had
begun it long before, since early in the next year it was completed and
published in Alcal. The volume, entitled Spiritual Works which lead a soul to
perfect union with God, has 720 pages and bears the date 1618. The works
are preceded by a preface addressed to the reader and a brief summary of the
author's 'life and virtues.' An engraving of the 'Mount of Perfection' is
included.[46]
There
are several peculiarities about this editio princeps. In the first
place, although the pagination is continuous, it was the work of two different
printers; the reason for this is quite unknown, though various reasons might be
suggested. The greatest care was evidently taken so that the work should be
well and truly approved: it is recommended, in terms of the highest praise, by
the authorities of the University of Alcal, who, at the request of the General
of the Discalced Carmelites, had submitted it for examination to four of the
professors of that University. No doubt for reasons of safety, the Spiritual
Canticle was not included in that edition: it was too much like a
commentary on the Song of Songs for such a proceeding to be just then
advisable.
We have
now to enquire into the merits of the edition of P. Salablanca, which met with
such warm approval on its publication, yet very soon afterwards began to be
recognized as defective and is little esteemed for its intrinsic qualities
to-day.
It must,
of course, be realized that critical standards in the early seventeenth century
were low and that the first editor of St. John of the Cross had neither the
method nor the available material of the twentieth century. Nor were the times
favourable for the publication of the works of a great mystic who attempted
fearlessly and fully to describe the highest stages of perfection on the road
to God. These two facts are responsible for most of the defects of the edition.
For
nearly a century, the great peril associated with the mystical life had been
that of Illuminism, a gross form of pseudo-mysticism which had claimed many
victims among the holiest and most learned, and of which there was such fear
that excessive, almost unbelievable, precautions had been taken against it.
These precautions, together with the frequency and audacity with which
Illuminists invoked the authority and protection of well-known contemporary
ascetic and mystical writers, give reality to P. Salablanca's fear lest the leaders
of the sect might shelter themselves behind the doctrines of St. John of the
Cross and so call forth the censure of the Inquisition upon passages which
seemed to him to bear close relation to their erroneous teaching. It was for
this definite reason, and not because of an arbitrary meticulousness, that P.
Salablanca omitted or adapted such passages as those noted in Book I, Chapter
viii of the Ascent of Mount Carmel and in a number of chapters in Book
II. A study of these, all of which are indicated in the footnotes to our text,
is of great interest.
Less
important are a large number of minor corrections made with the intention of
giving greater precision to some theological concept; the omission of lines and
even paragraphs which the editor considered redundant, as in fact they
frequently are; and corrections made with the aim of lending greater clearness
to the argument or improving the style. A few changes were made out of prudery:
such are the use of sensitivo for sensual, the suppression of
phrases dealing with carnal vice and the omission of several paragraphs from
that chapter of the Dark Night -- which speaks of the third deadly sin
of beginners. There was little enough reason for these changes: St. John of the
Cross is particularly inoffensive in his diction and may, from that point of
view, be read by a child.
The sum
total of P. Salablanca's mutilations is very considerable. There are more in
the Ascent and the Living Flame than in the Dark Night;
but hardly a page of the editio princeps is free from them and on most
pages they abound. It need not be said that they are regrettable. They belong
to an age when the garments of dead saints were cut up into small fragments and
distributed among the devout and when their cells were decked out with indifferent
taste and converted into oratories. It would not have been considered
sufficient had the editor printed the text of St. John of the Cross as he found
it and glossed it to his liking in footnotes; another editor would have put
opposite interpretations upon it, thus cancelling out the work of his
predecessor. Even the radical mutilations of P. Salablanca did not suffice, as
will now be seen, to protect the works of the Saint from the Inquisition.
VI
DENUNCIATION
OF THE 'WORKS' TO THE INQUISITION -- DEFENCE OF THEM MADE BY FR. BASILO PONCE
DE LEN -- EDITIONS OF THE SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES
Neither the commendations of University professors nor the
scissors of a meticulous editor could save the treatises of St. John of the
Cross from that particular form of attack which, more than all others, was
feared in the seventeenth century. We shall say nothing here of the history,
nature and procedure of the Spanish Inquisition, which has had its outspoken
antagonists and its unreasoning defenders but has not yet been studied with
impartiality. It must suffice to set down the facts as they here affect our
subject.
Forty
propositions, then, were extracted from the edition of 1618 and presented to
the Holy Office for condemnation with the object of causing the withdrawal of
the edition from circulation. The attempt would probably have succeeded but for
the warm, vigorous and learned defence put up by the Augustinian Fray Basilio
Ponce de Len, a theological professor in the University of Salamanca and a
nephew of the Luis de Len who wrote the Names of Christ and took so great an
interest in the works of St. Teresa.[47]
It was
in the very convent of San Felipe in Madrid where thirty-five years earlier
Fray Luis had written his immortal eulogy of St. Teresa[48] that Fray Basilio, on July
11, 1622, signed a most interesting 'Reply' to the objections which had been
raised to the Alcal edition of St. John of the Cross. Although we propose, in
our third volume, to reproduce Fray Basilio's defence, it is necessary to our
narrative to say something of it here, for it is the most important of all
extant documents which reveal the vicissitudes in the history of the Saint's
teaching.
Before
entering upon an examination of the censured propositions, the learned
Augustinian makes some general observations, which must have carried great
weight as coming from so high a theological authority. He recalls the
commendations of the edition by the professors of the University of Alcal
'where the faculty of theology is so famous,' and by many others, including
several ministers of the Holy Office and two Dominicans who 'without dispute
are among the most learned of their Order.' Secondly, he refers to the
eminently saintly character of the first friar of the Discalced Reform: 'it is
not to be presumed that God would set a man whose teaching is so evil . . . as
is alleged, to be the comer-stone of so great a building.' Thirdly, he notes
how close a follower was St. John of the Cross of St. Teresa, a person who was
singularly free from any taint of unorthodoxy. And finally he recalls a number
of similar attacks on works of this kind, notably that on Laredo's Ascent of
Mount Sion,[49] which have proved to be
devoid of foundation, and points out that isolated 'propositions' need to be
set in their context before they can be fairly judged.
Fray
Basilio next refutes the charges brought against the works of St. John of the
Cross, nearly all of which relate to his teaching on the passivity of the
faculties in certain degrees of contemplation. Each proposition he copies and
afterwards defends, both by argument and by quotations from the Fathers, from
the medieval mystics and from his own contemporaries. It is noteworthy that
among these authorities he invariably includes St. Teresa, who had been
beatified in 1614, and enjoyed an undisputed reputation. This inclusion, as
well as being an enhancement of his defence, affords a striking demonstration
of the unity of thought existing between the two great Carmelites.
Having
expounded the orthodox Catholic teaching in regard to these matters, and shown
that the teaching of St. John of the Cross is in agreement with it, Fray
Basilio goes on to make clear the true attitude of the Illuminists and thus to
reinforce his contentions by showing how far removed from this is the Saint's
doctrine.
Fray
Basilio's magnificent defence of St. John of the Cross appears to have had the
unusual effect of quashing the attack entirely: the excellence of his
arguments, backed by his great authority, was evidently unanswerable. So far as
we know, the Inquisition took no proceedings against the Alcal edition
whatsoever. Had this at any time been prohibited, we may be sure that Llorente
would have revealed the fact, and, though he refers to the persecution of St.
John of the Cross during his lifetime,[50] he is quite silent about
any posthumous condemnation of his writings.
The editio
princeps was reprinted in 1619, with a different pagination and a few
corrections, in Barcelona.[51] Before these two editions
were out of print, the General of the Discalced Carmelites had entrusted an
able historian of the Reform, Fray Jernimo de San JosŽ, with the
preparation of a new one. This was published at Madrid, in 1630. It has a short
introduction describing its scope and general nature, a number of new and
influential commendations and an admirable fifty-page 'sketch' of St. John of
the Cross by the editor which has been reproduced in most subsequent editions
and has probably done more than any other single work to make known the facts
of the Saint's biography. The great feature of this edition, however, is the
inclusion of the Spiritual Canticle, placed (by an error, as a printer's
note explains) at the end of the volume, instead of before the Living Flame,
which is, of course, its proper position.
The
inclusion of the Canticle is one of the two merits that the editor
claims for his new edition. The other is that he 'prints both the Canticle
and the other works according to their original manuscripts, written in the
hand of the same venerable author.' This claim is, of course, greatly
exaggerated, as what has been said above with regard to the manuscripts will
indicate. Not only does Fray Jernimo appear to have had no genuine original
manuscript at all, but of the omissions of the editio princeps it is
doubtful if he makes good many more than one in a hundred. In fact, with very
occasional exceptions, he merely reproduces the princeps -- omissions,
interpolations, well-meant improvements and all.[52]
In Fray
Jernimo's defence it must be said that the reasons which moved his predecessor
to mutilate his edition were still potent, and the times had not changed. It is
more surprising that for nearly three centuries the edition of 1630 should have
been followed by later editors. The numerous versions of the works which saw
the light in the later seventeenth and the eighteenth century added a few
poems, letters and maxims to the corpus of work which he presented and which
assumed great importance as the Saint became better known and more deeply
venerated. But they did no more. It suffices, therefore, to enumerate the chief
of them.
The
Barcelona publisher of the 1619 edition produced a new edition in 1635, which
is a mere reproduction of that of 1630. A Madrid edition of 1649, which adds
nine letters, a hundred maxims and a small collection of poems, was reproduced
in 1672 (Madrid), 1679 (Madrid), 1693 (Barcelona) and 1694 (Madrid), the last
reproduction being in two volumes. An edition was also published in Barcelona
in 1700.
If we
disregard a 'compendium' of the Saint's writings published in Seville in 1701,
the first eighteenth-century edition was published in Seville in 1703 -- the
most interesting of those that had seen the light since 1630. It is well
printed on good paper in a folio volume and its editor, Fr. AndrŽs de
Jess Mara, claims it, on several grounds, as an advance on preceding
editions. First, he says, 'innumerable errors of great importance' have been
corrected in it; then, the Spiritual Canticle has been amended according
to its original manuscript 'in the hand of the same holy doctor, our father,
kept and venerated in our convent of Discalced Carmelite nuns at JaŽn';
next, he adds two new poems and increases the number of maxims from 100 to 365;
and lastly, the letters are increased from nine to seventeen, all of which are
found in P. Jernimo de San JosŽ's history. The first of these claims is
as great an exaggeration as was P. Jernimo's; to the second we shall refer in
our introduction to the Spiritual Canticle. The third and fourth,
however, are justified, and for these, as for a few minor improvements, the
editor deserves every commendation.
The
remaining years of the eighteenth century produced few editions; apart from a
reprint (1724) of the compendium of 1701, the only one known to us is that
published at Pamplona in 1774, after which nearly eighty years were to pass
before any earlier edition was so much as reprinted. Before we resume this
bibliographical narrative, however, we must go back over some earlier history.
VII
NEW
DENUNCIATIONS AND DEFENCES -- FRAY NICOLS DE JESS MARA -- THE CARMELITE
SCHOOL AND THE INQUISITION
WE
remarked, apropos of the edition of 1630, that the reasons which led Fray Diego
de Jess to mutilate his texts were still in existence when Fray Jernimo de
San JosŽ prepared his edition some twelve years later. If any independent
proof of this statement is needed, it may be found in the numerous apologias
that were published during the seventeenth century, not only in Spain, but in
Italy, France, Germany and other countries of Europe. If doctrines are not
attacked, there is no occasion to write vigorous defences of them.
Following
the example of Fray Basilio Ponce de Len, a professor of theology in the
College of the Reform at Salamanca, Fray Nichols de Jess Mara, wrote a
learned Latin defence of St. John of the Cross in 1631, often referred to
briefly as the Elucidatio.[53] It is divided into two
parts, the first defending the Saint against charges of a general kind that
were brought against his writings, and the second upholding censured
propositions taken from them. On the general ground, P. Nichols reminds his
readers that many writers who now enjoy the highest possible reputation were in
their time denounced and unjustly persecuted. St. Jerome was attacked for his
translation of the Bible from Hebrew into Latin; St. Augustine, for his
teaching about grace and free-will. The works of St. Gregory the Great were burned
at Rome; those of St. Thomas Aquinas at Paris. Most mediaeval and modern
mystics have been the victims of persecution -- Ruysbroeck, Tauler and even St.
Teresa. Such happenings, he maintains, have done nothing to lessen the eventual
prestige of these authors, but rather have added to it.
Nor, he
continues, can the works of any author fairly be censured, because misguided
teachers make use of them to propagate their false teaching. No book has been
more misused by heretics than Holy Scripture and few books of value would
escape if we were to condemn all that had been so treated. Equally worthless is
the objection that mystical literature is full of difficulties which may cause
the ignorant and pusillanimous to stumble. Apart from the fact that St. John of
the Cross is clearer and more lucid than most of his contemporaries, and that
therefore the works of many of them would have to follow his own into oblivion,
the same argument might again be applied to the Scriptures. Who can estimate
the good imparted by the sacred books to those who read them in a spirit of
uprightness and simplicity? Yet what books are more pregnant with mystery and
with truths that are difficult and, humanly speaking, even inaccessible?
But
(continues P. Nicols), even if we allow that parts of the work of St. John of
the Cross, for all the clarity of his exposition, are obscure to the general
reader, it must be remembered that much more is of the greatest attraction and
profit to all. On the one hand, the writings of the Saint represent the purest
sublimation of Divine love in the pilgrim soul, and are therefore food for the
most advanced upon the mystic way. On the other, every reader, however slight
his spiritual progress, can understand the Saint's ascetic teaching: his
chapters on the purgation of the senses, mortification, detachment from all
that belongs to the earth, purity of conscience, the practice of the virtues,
and so on. The Saint's greatest enemy is not the obscurity of his teaching but
the inflexible logic with which he deduces, from the fundamental principles of
evangelical perfection, the consequences which must be observed by those who
would scale the Mount. So straight and so hard is the road which he maps out
for the climber that the majority of those who see it are at once dismayed.
These
are the main lines of P. Nicols' argument, which he develops at great length.
We must refer briefly to the chapter in which he makes a careful synthesis of
the teaching of the Illuminists, to show how far it is removed from that of St.
John of the Cross. He divides these false contemplatives into four classes. In
the first class he places those who suppress all their acts, both interior and
exterior, in prayer. In the second, those who give themselves up to a state of
pure quiet, with no loving attention to God. In the third, those who allow
their bodies to indulge every craving and maintain that, in the state of
spiritual intoxication which they have reached, they are unable to commit sin.
In the fourth, those who consider themselves to be instruments of God and adopt
an attitude of complete passivity, maintaining also that they are unable to
sin, because God alone is working in them. The division is more subtle than
practical, for the devotees of this sect, with few exceptions, professed the
same erroneous beliefs and tended to the same degree of licence in their
conduct. But, by isolating these tenets, P. Nicols is the better able to show
the antithesis between them and those of St. John of the Cross.
In the
second part of the Elucidatio, he analyses the propositions already
treated by Fray Basilio Ponce de Len, reducing them to twenty and dealing
faithfully with them in the same number of chapters. His defence is clear,
methodical and convincing and follows similar lines to those adopted by Fray
Basilio, to whom its author acknowledges his indebtedness.
Another
of St. John of the Cross's apologists is Fray JosŽ de Jess Mara
(Quiroga), who, in a number of his works,[54] both defends and eulogizes
him, without going into any detailed examination of the propositions. Fray
JosŽ is an outstanding example of a very large class of writers, for, as
Illuminism gave place to Quietism, the teaching of St. John of the Cross became
more and more violently impugned and almost all mystical writers of the time
referred to him. Perhaps we should single out, from among his defenders outside
the Carmelite Order, that Augustinian father, P. Antolnez, to whose commentary
on three of the Saint's works we have already made reference.
As the
school of mystical writers within the Discalced Carmelite Reform gradually grew
-- a school which took St. John of the Cross as its leader and is one of the
most illustrious in the history of mystical theology -- it began to share in
the same persecution as had befallen its founder. It is impossible, in a few
words, to describe this epoch of purgation, and indeed it can only be properly
studied in its proper context -- the religious history of the period as a
whole. For our purpose, it suffices to say that the works of St. John of the
Cross were once more denounced to the Inquisition, though, once more, no notice
appears to have been taken of the denunciations, for there exists no record
ordering the expurgation or prohibition of the books referred to. The Elucidatio
was also denounced, together with several of the works of P. JosŽ de Jess
Mara, at various times in the seventeenth century, and these attacks were of
course equivalent to direct attacks on St. John of the Cross. One of the most
vehement onslaughts made was levelled against P. JosŽ's Subida del Alma
a Dios ('Ascent of the Soul to God'), which is in effect an elaborate commentary
on St. John of the Cross's teaching. The Spanish Inquisition refusing to
censure the book, an appeal against it was made to the Inquisition at Rome.
When no satisfaction was obtained in this quarter, P. JosŽ's opponents
went to the Pope, who referred the matter to the Sacred Congregation of the
Index; but this body issued a warm eulogy of the book and the matter thereupon
dropped.
In spite
of such defeats, the opponents of the Carmelite school continued their work
into the eighteenth century. In 1740, a new appeal was made to the Spanish
Inquisition to censure P. JosŽ's Subida. A document of
seventy-three folios denounced no less than one hundred and sixty-five
propositions which it claimed to have taken direct from the work referred to,
and this time, after a conflict extending over ten years, the book (described
as 'falsely attributed' to P. JosŽ[55]) was condemned (July 4,
1750), as 'containing doctrine most perilous in practice, and propositions
similar and equivalent to those condemned in Miguel de Molinos.'
We set
down the salient facts of this controversy, without commenting upon them, as an
instance of the attitude of the eighteenth century towards the mystics in
general, and, in particular, towards the school of the Discalced Carmelites. In
view of the state and tendencies of thought in these times, the fact of the persecution,
and the degree of success that it attained, is not surprising. The important
point to bear in mind is that it must be taken into account continually by
students of the editions of the Saint's writings and of the history of his
teaching throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
VIII
FURTHER
HISTORY OF THE EDITIONS -- P. ANDRS DE LA ENCARNACIN -- EDITIONS OF THE
NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES
WHAT
has just been said will fully explain the paucity of the editions of St. John
of the Cross which we find in the eighteenth century. This century, however,
was, scientifically speaking, one of great progress. Critical methods of study
developed and became widespread; and there was a great desire to obtain purer
and more nearly perfect texts and to discover the original sources of the ideas
of great thinkers. These tendencies made themselves felt within the Discalced
Carmelite Order, and there also arose a great ambition to republish in their
original forms the works both of St. Teresa and of St. John of the Cross. The
need was greater in the latter case than in the former; so urgent was it felt
to be as to admit of no delay. 'There have been discovered in the works [of St.
John of the Cross],' says a document of about 1753, 'many errors, mutilations
and other defects the existence of which cannot be denied.'[56] The religious who wrote
thus to the Chapter-General of the Reform set out definite and practical
schemes for a thorough revision of these works, which were at once accepted.
There thus comes into our history that noteworthy friar, P. AndrŽs de la
Encarnacin, to whom we owe so much of what we know about the Saint to-day. P.
AndrŽs was no great stylist, nor had he the usual Spanish fluency of
diction. But he was patient, modest and industrious, and above all he was
endowed with a double portion of the critical spirit of the eighteenth century.
He was selected for the work of investigation as being by far the fittest
person who could be found for it. A decree dated October 6, 1754 ordered him to
set to work. As a necessary preliminary to the task of preparing a corrected
text of the Saint's writings, he was to spare no effort in searching for every
extant manuscript; accordingly he began long journeys through La Mancha and
Andalusia, going over all the ground covered by St. John of the Cross in his
travels and paying special attention to the places where he had lived for any
considerable period. In those days, before the religious persecutions of the
nineteenth century had destroyed and scattered books and manuscripts, the
archives of the various religious houses were intact. P. AndrŽs and his
amanuensis were therefore able to copy and collate valuable manuscripts now
lost to us and they at once began to restore the phrases and passages omitted
from the editions. Unhappily, their work has disappeared and we can judge of it
only at second hand; but it appears to have been in every way meritorious. So
far as we can gather from the documents which have come down to us, it failed
to pass the rigorous censorship of the Order. In other words, the censors, who
were professional theologians, insisted upon making so many corrections that
the Superiors, who shared the enlightened critical opinions of P. AndrŽs,
thought it better to postpone the publication of the edition indefinitely.
The
failure of the project, however, to which P. AndrŽs devoted so much
patient labour, did not wholly destroy the fruits of his skill and
perseverance. He was ordered to retire to his priory, where he spent the rest
of his long life under the burden of a trial the magnitude of which any scholar
or studiously minded reader can estimate. He did what he could in his seclusion
to collect, arrange and recopy such notes of his work as he could recover from
those to whom they had been submitted. His defence of this action to the
Chapter-General is at once admirable in the tranquillity of its temper and
pathetic in the eagerness and affection which it displays for the task that he
has been forbidden to continue:
Inasmuch
as I was ordered, some years ago . . . to prepare an exact edition of the works
of our holy father, and afterwards was commanded to suspend my labours for just
reasons which presented themselves to these our fathers and prevented its
accomplishment at the time, I obeyed forthwith with the greatest
submissiveness, but, as I found that I had a rich store of information which at
some future time might contribute to the publication of a truly illustrious and
perfect edition, it seemed to me that I should not be running counter to the
spirit of the Order if I gave it some serviceable form, so that I should not be
embarrassed by seeing it in a disorderly condition if at some future date it
should be proposed to carry into effect the original decisions of the Order.
With
humility and submissiveness, therefore, I send to your Reverences these results
of my private labours, not because it is in my mind that the work should be
recommended, or that, if this is to be done, it should be at any particular
time, for that I leave to the disposition of your Reverences and of God, but to
the end that I may return to the Order that which belongs to it; for, since I
was excused from religious observances for nearly nine years so that I might
labour in this its own field, the Order cannot but have a right to the fruits
of my labours, nor can I escape the obligation of delivering what I have
discovered into its hand. . . .[57]
We
cannot examine the full text of the interesting memorandum to the Censors which
follows this humble exordium. One of their allegations had been that the credit
of the Order would suffer if it became known that passages of the Saint's works
had been suppressed by Carmelite editors. P. AndrŽs makes the sage reply:
'There is certainly the risk that this will become known if the edition is
made; but there is also a risk that it will become known in any case. We must
weigh the risks against each other and decide which proceeding will bring the
Order into the greater discredit if one of them materializes.' He fortifies
this argument with the declaration that the defects of the existing editions
were common knowledge outside the Order as well as within it, and that, as
manuscript copies of the Saint's works were also in the possession of many
others than Carmelites, there was nothing to prevent a correct edition being
made at any time. This must suffice as a proof that P. AndrŽs could be as
acute as he was submissive.
Besides
collecting this material, and leaving on record his opposition to the
short-sighted decision of the Censors, P. AndrŽs prepared 'some Disquisitions
on the writings of the Saint, which, if a more skilful hand should correct and
improve their style, cannot but be well received.' Closely connected with the Disquisitions
are the Preludes in which he glosses the Saint's writings. These
studies, like the notes already described, have all been lost -- no doubt,
together with many other documents from the archives of the Reform in Madrid,
they disappeared during the pillaging of the religious houses in the early
nineteenth century.
The
little of P. AndrŽs' work that remains to us gives a clear picture of the
efforts made by the Reform to bring out a worthy edition of St. John of the
Cross's writings in the eighteenth century; it is manifestly insufficient,
however, to take a modern editor far along the way. Nor, as we have seen, are
his judgments by any means to be followed otherwise than with the greatest
caution; he greatly exaggerates, too, the effect of the mutilations of earlier
editors, no doubt in order to convince his superiors of the necessity for a new
edition. The materials for a modern editor are to be found, not in the documents
left by P. AndrŽs, but in such Carmelite archives as still exist, and in
the National Library of Spain, to which many Carmelite treasures found their
way at the beginning of the last century.
The work
sent by P. AndrŽs to his superiors was kept in the archives of the
Discalced Carmelites, but no new edition was prepared till a hundred and fifty
years later. In the nineteenth century such a task was made considerably more
difficult by religious persecution; which resulted in the loss of many valuable
manuscripts, some of which P. AndrŽs must certainly have examined. For a
time, too, the Orders were expelled from Spain, and, on their return, had
neither the necessary freedom, nor the time or material means, for such
undertakings. In the twenty-seventh volume of the well-known series of classics
entitled Biblioteca de Autores Espaoles (1853) the works of St. John of
the Cross were reprinted according to the 1703 edition, without its engravings,
indices and commendations, and with a 'critical estimate' of the Saint by Pi y
Margall, which has some literary value but in other respects fails entirely to
do justice to its subject.
Neither
the Madrid edition of 1872 nor the Barcelona edition of 1883 adds anything to
our knowledge and it was not till the Toledo edition of 1912-14 that a new
advance was made. This edition was the work of a young Carmelite friar, P.
Gerardo de San Juan de la Cruz, who died soon after its completion. It aims,
according to its title, which is certainly justified, at being 'the most correct
and complete edition of all that have been published down to the present date.'
If it was not as successful as might have been wished, this could perhaps
hardly have been expected of a comparatively inexperienced editor confronted
with so gigantic a task -- a man, too, who worked almost alone and was by
temperament and predilection an investigator rather than a critic.
Nevertheless, its introductions, footnotes, appended documents, and collection
of apocryphal works of the Saint, as well as its text, were all considered
worthy of extended study and the edition was rightly received with enthusiasm.
Its principal merit will always lie in its having restored to their proper
places, for the first time in a printed edition, many passages which had
theretofore remained in manuscript.
We have
been anxious that this new edition [Burgos, 1929-31] should represent a fresh
advance in the task of establishing a definitive text of St. John of the
Cross's writings. For this reason we have examined, together with two devoted
assistants, every discoverable manuscript, with the result, as it seems to us,
that both the form and the content of our author's works are as nearly as
possible as he left them.
In no
case have we followed any one manuscript exclusively, preferring to assess the
value of each by a careful preliminary study and to consider each on its
merits, which are described in the introduction to each of the individual
works. Since our primary aim has been to present an accurate text, our
footnotes will be found to be almost exclusively textual. The only edition
which we cite, with the occasional exception of that of 1630, is the princeps,
from which alone there is much to be learned. The Latin quotations from the
Vulgate are not, of course, given except where they appear in the manuscripts,
and, save for the occasional correction of a copyist's error, they are
reproduced in exactly the form in which we have found them. Orthography and
punctuation have had perforce to be modernized, since the manuscripts differ
widely and we have so few autographs that nothing conclusive can be learned of
the Saint's own practice.[58]
ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL
INTRODUCTION
AS
will be seen from the biographical outline which we have given of the life of
St. John of the Cross, this was the first of the Saint's treatises to be
written; it was begun at El Calvario, and, after various intervals, due to the
author's preoccupation with the business of government and the direction and
care of souls, was completed at Granada.
The
treatise presents a remarkable outline of Christian perfection from the point at
which the soul first seeks to rise from the earth and soar upward towards union
with God. It is a work which shows every sign of careful planning and great
attention to detail, as an ascetic treatise it is noteworthy for its detailed
psychological analysis; as a contribution to mystical theology, for the skill
with which it treats the most complicated and delicate questions concerning the
Mystic Way.
Both the
great Carmelite reformers pay close attention to the early stages of the
mystical life, beyond which many never pass, and both give the primacy to
prayer as a means of attaining perfection. To St. Teresa prayer is the greatest
of all blessings of this life, the channel through which all the favours of God
pass to the soul, the beginning of every virtue and the plainly marked highroad
which leads to the summit of Mount Carmel. She can hardly conceive of a person
in full spiritual health whose life is not one of prayer. Her coadjutor in the
Carmelite Reform writes in the same spirit. Prayer, for St. John of the Cross
as for St. Teresa, is no mere exercise made up of petition and meditation, but
a complete spiritual life which brings in its train all the virtues, increases
all the soul's potentialities and may ultimately lead to 'deification' or
transformation in God through love. It may be said that the exposition of the
life of prayer, from its lowest stages to its highest, is the common aim of
these two Saints, which each pursues and accomplishes in a peculiarly
individual manner.
St. John
of the Cross assumes his reader to be familiar with the rudiments of the
spiritual life and therefore omits detailed description of the most elementary
of the exercises incumbent upon all Christians. The plan of the Ascent of
Mount Carmel (which, properly speaking, embraces its sequel, the Dark
Night) follows the lines of the poem with the latter title (p. 10). Into
two stanzas of five lines each, St. John of the Cross has condensed all the
instruction which he develops in this treatise. In order to reach the Union of
Light, the soul must pass through the Dark Night -- that is to say, through a
series of purifications, during which it is walking, as it were, through a
tunnel of impenetrable obscurity and from which it emerges to bask in the
sunshine of grace and to enjoy the Divine intimacy.
Through
this obscurity the thread which guides the soul is that of 'emptiness' or
'negation.' Only by voiding ourselves of all that is not God can we attain to
the possession of God, for two contraries cannot co-exist in one individual,
and creature-love is darkness, while God is light, so that from any human heart
one of the two cannot fail to drive out the other.[59]
Now the
soul, according to the Saint's psychology, is made up of interior and exterior
senses and of the faculties. All these must be free from creature impurities in
order to be prepared for Divine union. The necessary self-emptying may be
accomplished in two ways: by our own efforts, with the habitual aid of grace,
and by the action of God exclusively, in which the individual has no part
whatsoever. Following this order, the Ascent is divided into two parts, which
deal respectively with the 'Active' night and the 'Passive.' Each of these
parts consists of several books. Since the soul must be purified in its
entirety, the Active Night is logically divided into the Night of Sense and the
Night of the Spirit; a similar division is observed in treating of the Passive
Night. One book is devoted to the Active Night of Sense; two are needed for the
Active Night of the Spirit. Unhappily, however, the treatise was never
finished; not only was its author unable to take us out of the night into the
day, as he certainly intended to do, but he has not even space to describe the
Passive Night in all the fullness of its symbolism.
A brief
glance at the outstanding parts of the Ascent of Mount Carmel will give
some idea of its nature. The first obstacle which the pilgrim soul encounters
is the senses, upon which St. John of the Cross expends his analytical skill in
Book I. Like any academic professor (and it will be recalled that he had
undergone a complete university course at Salamanca), he outlines and defines
his subject, goes over the necessary preliminary ground before expounding it,
and treats it, in turn, under each of its natural divisions. He tells us, that
is to say, what he understands by the 'dark night'; describes its causes and
its stages; explains how necessary it is to union with God; enumerates the
perils which beset the soul that enters it; and shows how all desires must be
expelled, 'however small they be,' if the soul is to travel through it safely.
Finally he gives a complete synthesis of the procedure that must be adopted by
the pilgrim in relation to this part of his journey: the force of this is
intensified by those striking maxims and distichs which make Chapter xiii of
Book I so memorable.
The
first thirteen chapters of the Ascent are perhaps the easiest to
understand (though they are anything but easy to put into practice) in the
entire works of St. John of the Cross. They are all a commentary on the very
first line of the poem. The last two chapters of the first book glance at the
remaining lines, rather than expound them, and the Saint takes us on at once to
Book II, which expounds the second stanza and enters upon the Night of the
Spirit.
Here the
Saint treats of the proximate means to union with God -- namely, faith. He uses
the same careful method of exposition, showing clearly how faith is to the soul
as a dark night, and how, nevertheless, it is the safest of guides. A
parenthetical chapter (v) attempts to give some idea of the nature of union, so
that the reader may recognize from afar the goal to which he is proceeding. The
author then goes on to describe how the three theological virtues -- faith,
hope and charity -- must 'void and dispose for union' the three faculties of
the soul -- understanding, memory and will.
He shows
how narrow is the way that leads to life and how nothing that belongs to the
understanding can guide the soul to union. His illustrations and arguments are
far more complicated and subtle than are those of the first book, and give the
reader some idea of his knowledge, not only of philosophy and theology, but
also of individual souls. Without this last qualification he could never have
written those penetrating chapters on the impediments to union -- above all,
the passages on visions, locutions and revelations -- nor must we overlook his
description (Chapter xiii) of the three signs that the soul is ready to pass from
meditation to contemplation. It may be doubted if in its own field this second
book has ever been surpassed. There is no mystic who gives a more powerful
impression than St. John of the Cross of an absolute mastery of his subject. No
mistiness, vagueness or indecision clouds his writing: he is as clear-cut and
definite as can be.
In his
third book St. John of the Cross goes on to describe the obstacles to union
which come from the memory and the will. Unlike St. Thomas, he considered the
memory as a distinct and separate faculty of the soul. Having written, however,
at such length of the understanding, he found it possible to treat more briefly
of that other faculty, which is so closely related to it.[60] Fourteen chapters (ii-xv)
describe the dark night to be traversed by the memory; thirty (xvi-xlv) the
passage of the will, impelled by love.[61] The latter part is the more
strikingly developed. Four passions -- joy, hope, sorrow and fear -- invade the
will, and may either encompass the soul's perdition, or, if rightly directed,
lead it to virtue and union. Once more St. John of the Cross employs his
profound familiarity with the human soul to turn it away from peril and guide
it into the path of safety. Much that he says, in dealing with passions so
familiar to us all, is not only purely ascetic, but is even commonplace to the
instructed Christian. Yet these are but parts of a greater whole.
Of
particular interest, both intrinsically and as giving a picture of the Saint's
own times, are the chapters on ceremonies and aids to devotion -- the use of
rosaries, medals, pilgrimages, etc. It must be remembered, of course, that he
spent most of his active life in the South of Spain, where exaggerations of all
kinds, even to-day, are more frequent than in the more sober north. In any case
there is less need, in this lukewarm age, to warn Christians against the abuse
of these means of grace, and more need, perhaps, to urge them to employ aids
that will stimulate and quicken their devotion.
In the
seventeenth chapter of this third book, St. John of the Cross enumerates the
'six kinds of good' which can give rise to rejoicing and sets down his
intention of treating each of them in turn. He carries out his purpose, but, on
entering his last division, subdivides it at considerable length and
subsequently breaks off with some brusqueness while dealing with one of these
sub-heads, just as he is introducing another subject of particular interest
historically -- namely, pulpit methods considered from the standpoint of the
preacher. In all probability we shall never know what he had to say about the
hearers of sermons, or what were his considered judgments on confessors and
penitents -- though of these judgments he has left us examples elsewhere in
this treatise, as well as in others.
We
cannot estimate of how much the sudden curtailment of the Ascent of Mount
Carmel has robbed us.[62] Orderly as was the mind of
St. John of the Cross, he was easily carried away in his expositions, which are
apt to be unequal. No one would have suspected, for example, that, after going
into such length in treating the first line of his first stanza, he would make
such short work of the remaining four. Nor can we disregard the significance of
his warning that much of what he had written on the understanding was
applicable also to the memory and the will. He may, therefore, have been nearer
the end of his theme than is generally supposed. Yet it is equally possible
that much more of his subtle analysis was in store for his readers. Any
truncation, when the author is a St. John of the Cross, must be considered
irreparable.
The Manuscripts[63]
Unfortunately
there is no autograph of this treatise extant, though there are a number of
early copies, some of which have been made with great care. Others, for various
reasons, abbreviate the original considerably. The MSS. belonging to both
classes will be enumerated.
Alba
de Tormes.
The Discalced Carmelite priory of Alba de Tormes has a codex which contains the
four principal treatises of St. John of the Cross (Ascent, Dark Night,
Spiritual Canticle and Living Flame). This codex belonged from a
very early date (perhaps from a date not much later than that of the Saint's
death) to the family of the Duke of Alba, which was greatly devoted to the
Discalced Carmelite Reform and to St. Teresa, its foundress. It remained in the
family until the beginning of the eighteenth century, when it came into the
hands of a learned Carmelite, Fray Alonso de la Madre de Dios, who presented it
to the Alba monastery on April 15, 1705. The details of this history are given by
Fray Alonso himself in a note bearing this date.
For over
half a century the MS. was believed to be an autograph, partly, no doubt, on
account of its luxurious binding and the respect paid to the noble house whence
it came. In February 1761, however, it was examined carefully by P. Manuel de
Santa Mara, who, by his Superiors' orders, was assisting P. AndrŽs de la
Encarnacin in his search for, and study of, manuscripts of the Saint's
writings. P. Manuel soon discovered that the opinion commonly held was
erroneous -- greatly, it would seem, to the disillusionment of his
contemporaries. Among the various reasons which he gives in a statement
supporting his conclusions is that in two places the author is described as
'santo' -- a proof not only that the MS. is not an autograph but also that the
copyist had no intention of representing it as such.
Although
this copy is carefully made and richly bound -- which suggests that it was a
gift from the Reform to the house of Alba -- it contains many errors, of a kind
which indicate that the copyist, well educated though he was, knew little of
ascetic or mystical theology. A number of omissions, especially towards the end
of the book, give the impression that the copy was finished with haste and not
compared with the original on its completion. There is no reason, however, to
suppose that the errors and omissions are ever intentional; indeed, they are of
such a kind as to suggest that the copyist had not the skill necessary for
successful adulteration.
MS.
6,624. This copy, like the next four, is in N.L.M. [National Library of Spain,
Madrid], and contains the same works as that of Alba de Tormes. It was made in
1755, under the direction of P. AndrŽs de la Encarnacin, from a
manuscript, now lost, which was venerated by the Benedictines of Burgos: this
information is found at the end of the volume. P. AndrŽs had evidently a
good opinion of the Burgos MS., as he placed this copy in the archives of the
Discalced Reform, whence it passed to the National Library early in the nineteenth
century.
As far
as the Ascent is concerned, this MS. is very similar to that of Alba.
With a few notable exceptions, such as the omission of the second half of Book
I, Chapter iv, the errors and omissions are so similar as to suggest a definite
relationship, if not a common source.
MS.
13,498. This MS., which gives us the Ascent and the Dark Night,
also came from the Archives of the Reform and is now in the National Library.
The handwriting might be as early as the end of the sixteenth century. The
author did not attempt to make a literal transcription of the Ascent,
but summarized where he thought advisable, reducing the number of chapters and
abbreviating many of them -- this last not so much by the method of paraphrase
as by the free omission of phrases and sentences.
MS.
2,201. This, as far as the Ascent is concerned, is an almost literal
transcription of the last MS., in a seventeenth-century hand; it was bound in
the eighteenth century, when a number of other treatises were added to it,
together with some poems by St. John of the Cross and others. The variants as
between this MS. and 13,498 are numerous, but of small importance, and seem
mainly to have been due to carelessness.
MS.
18,160. This dates from the end of the sixteenth century and contains the four
treatises named above, copied in different hands and evidently intended to form
one volume. Only the first four chapters of the Ascent are given,
together with the title and the first three lines of the fifth chapter. The
transcription is poorly done.
MS.
13,507. An unimportant copy, containing only a few odd chapters of the Ascent
and others from the remaining works of St. John of the Cross and other writers.
Pamplona. A codex in an excellent
state of preservation is venerated by the Discalced Carmelite nuns of Pamplona.
It was copied, at the end of the sixteenth century, by a Barcelona Carmelite,
M. Magdalena de la Asuncin, and contains a short summary of the four treatises
enumerated above, various poems by St. John of the Cross and some miscellaneous
writings. The Ascent is abbreviated to the same extent as in 13,498 and
2,201 and by the same methods; many chapters, too, are omitted in their
entirety.
Alcaudete. This MS., which contains
the Ascent only, was copied by St. John of the Cross's close friend and
companion, P. Juan Evangelista, as a comparison with manuscripts (N.L.M.,
12,738) written in his well-known and very distinctive hand, puts beyond all
doubt. P. Juan, who took the habit of the Reform at Christmas 1582, knew the
Saint before this date; was professed by him at Granada in 1583; accompanied
him on many of his journeys; saw him write most of his books; and, as his close
friend and confessor, was consulted repeatedly by his biographers.[64] It is natural that he
should also have acted as the Saint's copyist, and, in the absence of
autographs, we should expect no manuscripts to be more trustworthy than copies
made by him. Examination of this MS. shows that it is in fact highly reliable.
It corrects none of those unwieldy periods in which the Saint's work abounds,
and which the editio princeps often thought well to amend, nor, like the
early editions and even some manuscripts, does it omit whole paragraphs and
substitute others for them. Further, as this copy was being made solely for the
use of the Order, no passages are omitted or altered in it because they might
be erroneously interpreted as illuministic. It is true that P. Juan Evangelista
is not, from the technical standpoint, a perfect copyist, but, frequently as
are his slips, they are always easy to recognize.
The
Alcaudete MS. was found in the Carmelite priory in that town by P. AndrŽs
de la Encarnacin, who first made use of it for his edition. When the priory
was abandoned during the religious persecutions of the early nineteenth
century, the MS. was lost. Nearly a hundred years passed before it was
re-discovered by P. Silverio de Santa Teresa in a second-hand bookshop [and
forms a most important contribution to that scholar's edition, which normally
follows it]. It bears many signs of frequent use; eleven folios are missing
from the body of the MS. (corresponding approximately to Book III, Chapters
xxii to xxvi) and several more from its conclusion.
In the
footnotes to the Ascent, the following abbreviations are used:
A = MS.
of the Discalced Carmelite Friars of Alba.
Alc. =
Alcaudete MS.
B = MS.
of the Benedictines of Burgos.
C =
N.L.M., MS. 13,498.
D =
N.L.M., MS. 2,201.
P = MS.
of the Discalced Carmelite Nuns of Pamplona.
E.p. = Editio
princeps (Alcal, 1618).
Other
editions or manuscripts cited are referred to without abbreviation.
ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL
Treats
of how the soul may prepare itself in order to attain in a short time to Divine
union. Gives very profitable counsels and instruction, both to beginners and to
proficients, that they may know how to disencumber themselves of all that is
temporal and not to encumber themselves with the spiritual, and to remain in
complete detachment and liberty of spirit, as is necessary for Divine union.
ARGUMENT
ALL
the doctrine whereof I intend to treat in this Ascent of Mount Carmel is
included in the following stanzas, and in them is also described the manner of
ascending to the summit of the Mount, which is the high estate of perfection
which we here call union of the soul with God. And because I must continually
base upon them that which I shall say, I have desired to set them down here
together, to the end that all the substance of that which is to be written may
be seen and comprehended together; although it will be fitting to set down each
stanza separately before expounding it, and likewise the lines of each stanza,
according as the matter and the exposition require. The poem, then, runs as
follows:[65]
STANZAS[66]
Wherein
the soul sings of the happy chance which it had in passing through the dark
night of faith, in detachment and purgation of itself, to union with the
Beloved.
1. On a dark night, Kindled[67] in love with yearnings --
oh, happy chance! --
I went forth without being observed, My
house being now at rest.[68]
2. In darkness and secure, By the secret
ladder, disguised -- oh, happy chance! --
In darkness and in concealment, My
house being now at rest.
3. In the happy night, In secret, when none
saw me,
Nor I beheld aught, Without light or
guide, save that which burned in my heart.
4. This light guided me More surely than the
light of noonday,
To the place where he (well I knew
who!) was awaiting me -- A place where none appeared.
5. Oh, night that guided me, Oh, night more
lovely than the dawn,
Oh, night that joined Beloved with
lover, Lover transformed in the Beloved!
6. Upon my flowery breast, Kept wholly for
himself alone,
There he stayed sleeping, and I
caressed him, And the fanning of the cedars made a breeze.
7. The breeze blew from the turret As I parted
his locks;
With his gentle hand he wounded my neck
And caused all my senses to be suspended.
8. I remained, lost in oblivion;[69] My face I reclined on the
Beloved.
All ceased and I abandoned myself,
Leaving my cares forgotten among the lilies.
PROLOGUE
IN
order to expound and describe this dark night, through which the soul passes in
order to attain to the Divine light of the perfect union of the love of God, as
far as is possible in this life, it would be necessary to have illumination of
knowledge and experience other and far greater than mine; for this darkness and
these trials, both spiritual and temporal, through which happy souls are wont
to pass in order to be able to attain to this high estate of perfection, are so
numerous and so profound that neither does human knowledge suffice for the
understanding of them, nor experience for the description of them; for only he
that passes this way can understand it, and even he cannot describe it.
2.
Therefore, in order to say a little about this dark night, I shall trust
neither to experience nor to knowledge, since both may fail and deceive; but,
while not omitting to make such use as I can of these two things, I shall avail
myself, in all that, with the Divine favour, I have to say, or at the least, in
that which is most important and dark to the understanding, of Divine
Scripture; for, if we guide ourselves by this, we shall be unable to stray,
since He Who speaks therein is the Holy Spirit. And if aught I stray, whether
through my imperfect understanding of that which is said in it or of matters
uncollected with it, it is not my intention to depart from the sound sense and
doctrine of our Holy Mother the Catholic Church; for in such a case I submit
and resign myself wholly, not only to her command, but to whatever better
judgment she may pronounce concerning it.
3. To
this end I have been moved, not by any possibility that I see in myself of
accomplishing so arduous a task, but by the confidence which I have in the Lord
that He will help me to say something to relieve the great necessity which is
experienced by many souls, who, when they set out upon the road of virtue, and
Our Lord desires to bring them into this dark night that they may pass through
it to Divine union, make no progress. At times this is because they have no
desire to enter it or to allow themselves to be led into it; at other times,
because they understand not themselves and lack competent and alert directors[70] who will guide them to the
summit. And so it is sad to see many souls to whom God gives both aptitude and
favour with which to make progress (and who, if they would take courage, could
attain to this high estate), remaining in an elementary stage[71] of communion with God, for
want of will, or knowledge, or because there is none who will lead them in the
right path or teach them how to get away from these beginnings. And at length,
although Our Lord grants them such favour as to make them to go onward without
this hindrance or that, they arrive at their goal very much later, and with
greater labour, yet with less merit, because they have not conformed themselves
to God, and allowed themselves to be brought freely into the pure and sure road
of union. For, although it is true that God is leading them, and that He can
lead them without their own help, they will not allow themselves to be led; and
thus they make less progress, because they resist Him Who is leading them, and
they have less merit, because they apply not their will, and on this account
they suffer more. For these are souls who, instead of committing themselves to
God and making use of His help, rather hinder God by the indiscretion of their
actions or by their resistance; like children who, when their mothers desire to
carry them in their arms, start stamping and crying, and insist upon being
allowed to walk, with the result that they can make no progress; and, if they
advance at all, it is only at the pace of a child.
4.
Wherefore, to the end that all, whether beginners or proficients, may know how
to commit themselves to God's guidance, when His Majesty desires to lead them
onward, we shall give instruction and counsel, by His help, so that they may be
able to understand His will, or, at the least, allow Him to lead them. For some
confessors and spiritual fathers, having no light and experience concerning
these roads, are wont to hinder and harm such souls rather than to help them on
the road; they are like the builders of Babel, who, when told to furnish
suitable material, gave and applied other very different material, because they
understood not the language, and thus nothing was done. Wherefore, it is a
difficult and troublesome thing at such seasons for a soul not to understand
itself or to find none who understands it. For it will come to pass that God
will lead the soul by a most lofty path of dark contemplation and aridity,
wherein it seems to be lost, and, being thus full of darkness and trials,
constraints and temptations, will meet one who will speak to it like Job's
comforters, and say that it is suffering from melancholy, or low spirits, or a
morbid disposition, or that it may have some hidden sin, and that it is for
this reason that God has forsaken it. Such comforters are wont to declare
immediately that that soul must have been very evil, since such things as these
are befalling it.
5. And
there will likewise be those who tell the soul to retrace its steps, since it
is finding no pleasure or consolation in the things of God as it did aforetime.
And in this way they double the poor soul's trials; for it may well be that the
greatest affliction which it is feeling is that of the knowledge of its own
miseries, thinking that it sees itself, more clearly than daylight, to be full
of evils and sins, for God gives it that light of knowledge in that night of
contemplation, as we shall presently show. And, when the soul finds someone
whose opinion agrees with its own, and who says that these things must be due
to its own fault, its affliction and trouble increase infinitely and are wont
to become more grievous than death. And, not content with this, such
confessors, thinking that these things proceed from sin, make these souls go
over their lives and cause them to make many general confessions, and crucify
them afresh; not understanding that this may quite well not be the time for any
of such things, and that their penitents should be left in the state of
purgation which God gives them, and be comforted and encouraged to desire it
until God be pleased to dispose otherwise; for until that time, no matter what
the souls themselves may do and their confessors may say, there is no remedy
for them.
6. This,
with the Divine favour, we shall consider hereafter, and also how the soul
should conduct itself at such a time, and how the confessor must treat it, and
what signs there will be whereby it may be known if this is the purgation of
the soul; and, in such case, whether it be of sense or of spirit (which is the
dark night whereof we speak), and how it may be known if it be melancholy or
some other imperfection with respect to sense or to spirit. For there may be
some souls who will think, or whose confessors will think, that God is leading
them along this road of the dark night of spiritual purgation, whereas they may
possibly be suffering only from some of the imperfections aforementioned. And,
again, there are many souls who think that they have no aptitude for prayer,
when they have very much; and there are others who think that they have much
when they have hardly any.
7. There
are other souls who labour and weary themselves to a piteous extent, and yet go
backward, seeking profit in that which is not profitable, but is rather a
hindrance; and there are still others who, by remaining at rest and in
quietness, continue to make great progress. There are others who are hindered
and disturbed and make no progress, because of the very consolations and
favours that God is granting them in order that they may make progress. And
there are many other things on this road that befall those who follow it, both
joys and afflictions and hopes and griefs: some proceeding from the spirit of
perfection and others from imperfection. Of all these, with the Divine favour,
we shall endeavour to say something, so that each soul who reads this may be
able to see something of the road that he ought to follow, if he aspire to
attain to the summit of this Mount.
8. And,
since this introduction relates to the dark night through which the soul must
go to God, let not the reader marvel if it seem to him somewhat dark also.
This, I believe, will be so at the beginning when he begins to read; but, as he
passes on, he will find himself understanding the first part better, since one
part will explain another. And then, if he read it a second time, I believe it
will seem clearer to him and the instruction will appear sounder. And if any
persons find themselves disagreeing with this instruction, it will be due to my
ignorance and poor style; for in itself the matter is good and of the first
importance. But I think that, even were it written in a more excellent and
perfect manner than it is, only the minority would profit by it, for we shall
not here set down things that are very moral and delectable[72] for all spiritual persons
who desire to travel toward God by pleasant and delectable ways, but solid and
substantial instruction, as well suited to one kind of person as to another, if
they desire to pass to the detachment of spirit which is here treated.
9. Nor
is my principal intent to address all, but rather certain persons of our sacred
Order of Mount Carmel of the primitive observance, both friars and nuns --
since they have desired me to do so -- to whom God is granting the favour of
setting them on the road to this Mount; who, as they are already detached from
the temporal things of this world, will better understand the instruction
concerning detachment of spirit.
BOOK THE FIRST
Wherein
is described the nature of dark night and how necessary it is to pass through
it to Divine union; and in particular this book describes the dark night of
sense, and desire, and the evils which these work in the soul.[73]
CHAPTER
I
Sets
down the first stanza. Describes two different nights through which spiritual
persons pass, according to the two parts of man, the lower and the higher.
Expounds the stanza which follows.
Stanza The First
On a
dark night, Kindled in love with yearnings -- oh, happy chance! --
I went
forth without being observed, My house being now at rest.
IN
this first stanzas the soul sings of the happy fortune and chance which it
experienced in going forth from all things that are without, and from the
desires[74] and imperfections that are
in the sensual[75] part of man because of the
disordered state of his reason. For the understanding of this it must be known
that, for a soul to attain to the state of perfection, it has ordinarily first
to pass through two principal kinds of night, which spiritual persons call
purgations or purifications of the soul; and here we call them nights, for in
both of them the soul journeys, as it were, by night, in darkness.
2. The
first night or purgation is of the sensual part of the soul, which is treated
in the present stanza, and will be treated in the first part of this book. And
the second is of the spiritual part; of this speaks the second stanza, which
follows; and of this we shall treat likewise, in the second and the third part,[76] with respect to the activity
of the soul; and in the fourth part, with respect to its passitivity.
3. And
this first night pertains to beginners, occurring at the time when God begins
to bring them into the state of contemplation; in this night the spirit
likewise has a part, as we shall say in due course. And the second night, or
purification, pertains to those who are already proficient, occurring at the
time when God desires to bring them to the state of union with God. And this
latter night is a more obscure and dark and terrible purgation, as we shall say
afterwards.
4.
Briefly, then, the soul means by this stanza that it went forth (being led by
God) for love of Him alone, enkindled in love of Him, upon a dark night, which
is the privation and purgation of all its sensual desires, with respect to all
outward things of the world and to those which were delectable to its flesh,
and likewise with respect to the desires of its will. This all comes to pass in
this purgation of sense; for which cause the soul says that it went forth while
its house was still at rest;[77] which house is its sensual
part, the desires being at rest and asleep in it, as it is to them.[78] For there is no going forth
from the pains and afflictions of the secret places of the desires until these
be mortified and put to sleep. And this, the soul says, was a happy chance for
it -- namely, its going forth without being observed: that is, without any
desire of its flesh or any other thing being able to hinder it. And likewise,
because it went out by night -- which signifies the privation of all these
things wrought in it by God, which privation was night for it.
5. And
it was a happy chance that God should lead it into this night, from which there
came to it so much good; for of itself the soul would not have succeeded in
entering therein, because no man of himself can succeed in voiding himself of
all his desires in order to come to God.
6. This
is, in brief, the exposition of the stanza; and we shall now have to go through
it, line by line, setting down one line after another, and expounding that
which pertains to our purpose. And the same method is followed in the other
stanzas, as I said in the Prologue[79] -- namely, that each stanza
will be set down and expounded, and afterwards each line.
CHAPTER
II
Explains
the nature of this dark night through which the soul says that it has passed on
the road to union.
On
A Dark Night
WE
may say that there are three reasons for which this journey[80] made by the soul to union
with God is called night. The first has to do with the point from which the
soul goes forth, for it has gradually to deprive itself of desire for all the
worldly things which it possessed, by denying them to itself;[81] the which denial and
deprivation are, as it were, night to all the senses of man. The second reason
has to do with the mean,[82] or the road along which the
soul must travel to this union -- that is, faith, which is likewise as dark as
night to the understanding. The third has to do with the point to which it
travels -- namely, God, Who, equally, is dark night to the soul in this life.
These three nights must pass through the soul -- or, rather, the soul must pass
through them -- in order that it may come to Divine union with God.
2. In
the book of the holy Tobias these three kinds of night were shadowed forth by
the three nights which, as the angel commanded, were to pass ere the youth
Tobias should be united with his bride. In the first he commanded him to burn
the heart of the fish in the fire, which signifies the heart that is
affectioned to, and set upon, the things of the world; which, in order that one
may begin to journey toward God, must be burned and purified from all that is
creature, in the fire of the love of God. And in this purgation the devil flees
away, for he has power over the soul only when it is attached to things
corporeal and temporal.
3. On
the second night the angel told him that he would be admitted into the company
of the holy patriarchs, who are the fathers of the faith. For, passing through
the first night, which is self-privation of all objects of sense, the soul at
once enters into the second night, and abides alone in faith to the exclusion,
not of charity, but of other knowledge acquired by the understanding, as we
shall say hereafter, which is a thing that pertains not to sense.
4. On
the third night the angel told him that he would obtain a blessing, which is
God; Who, by means of the second night, which is faith, continually
communicates Himself to the soul in such a secret and intimate manner that He
becomes another night to the soul, inasmuch as this said communication is far
darker than those others, as we shall say presently. And, when this third night
is past, which is the complete accomplishment of the communication of God in
the spirit, which is ordinarily wrought in great darkness of the soul, there
then follows its union with the Bride, which is the Wisdom of God. Even so the
angel said likewise to Tobias that, when the third night was past, he should be
united with his bride in the fear of the Lord; for, when this fear of God is
perfect, love is perfect, and this comes to pass when the transformation of the
soul is wrought through its love.
5. These
three parts of the night are all one night; but, after the manner of night, it
has three parts. For the first part, which is that of sense, is comparable to
the beginning of night, the point at which things begin to fade from sight. And
the second part, which is faith, is comparable to midnight, which is total
darkness. And the third part is like the close of night, which is God, the
which part is now near to the light of day. And, that we may understand this
the better, we shall treat of each of these reasons separately as we proceed.
CHAPTER
III
Speaks
of the first cause of this night, which is that of the privation of the desire
in all things, and gives the reason for which it is called night.
WE
here describe as night the privation of every kind of pleasure which belongs to
the desire; for, even as night is naught but the privation of light, and,
consequently, of all objects that can be seen by means of light, whereby the
visual faculty remains unoccupied[83] and in darkness, even so
likewise the mortification of desire may be called night to the soul. For, when
the soul is deprived of the pleasure of its desire in all things, it remains,
as it were, unoccupied and in darkness. For even as the visual faculty, by
means of light, is nourished and fed by objects which can be seen, and which,
when the light is quenched, are not seen, even so, by means of the desire, the
soul is nourished and fed by all things wherein it can take pleasure according
to its faculties; and, when this also is quenched, or rather, mortified, the
soul ceases to feed upon the pleasure of all things, and thus, with respect to
its desire, it remains unoccupied and in darkness.
2. Let
us take an example from each of the faculties. When the soul deprives its
desire of the pleasure of all that can delight the sense of hearing, the soul
remains unoccupied and in darkness with respect to this faculty. And, when it
deprives itself of the pleasure of all that can please the sense of sight, it
remains unoccupied and in darkness with respect to this faculty also. And, when
it deprives itself of the pleasure of all the sweetness of perfumes which can
give it pleasure through the sense of smell, it remains equally unoccupied and
in darkness according to this faculty. And, if it also denies itself the
pleasure of all food that can satisfy the palate, the soul likewise remains
unoccupied and in darkness. And finally, when the soul mortifies itself with
respect to all the delights and pleasures that it can receive from the sense of
touch, it remains, in the same way, unoccupied and in darkness with respect to
this faculty. So that the soul that has denied and thrust away from itself the
pleasures which come from all these things, and has mortified its desire with
respect to them, may be said to be, as it were, in the darkness of night, which
is naught else than an emptiness within itself of all things.
3. The
reason for this is that, as the philosophers say, the soul, as soon as God
infuses it into the body, is like a smooth, blank board[84] upon which nothing is
painted; and, save for that which it experiences through the senses, nothing is
communicated to it, in the course of nature, from any other source. And thus,
for as long as it is in the body, it is like one who is in a dark prison and
who knows nothing, save what he is able to see through the windows of the said
prison; and, if he saw nothing through them, he would see nothing in any other
way. And thus the soul, save for that which is communicated to it through the
senses, which are the windows of its prison, could acquire nothing, in the
course of nature, in any other way.
4.
Wherefore, if the soul rejects and denies that which it can receive through the
senses, we can quite well say that it remains, as it were, in darkness and
empty; since, as appears from what has been said, no light can enter it, in the
course of nature, by any other means of illumination than those aforementioned.
For, although it is true that the soul cannot help hearing and seeing and
smelling and tasting and touching, this is of no greater import, nor, if the
soul denies and rejects the object, is it hindered more than if it saw it not,
heard it not, etc. Just so a man who desires to shut his eyes will remain in
darkness, like the blind man who has not the faculty of sight. And to this
purpose David says these words: Pauper sum ego, et in laboribus a indenture
mea.[85] Which signifies: I am poor and
in labours from my youth. He calls himself poor, although it is clear that he
was rich, because his will was not set upon riches, and thus it was as though
he were really poor. But if he had not been really poor and had not been so in
his will, he would not have been truly poor, for his soul, as far as its desire
was concerned, would have been rich and replete. For that reason we call this
detachment night to the soul, for we are not treating here of the lack of
things, since this implies no detachment on the part of the soul if it has a
desire for them; but we are treating of the detachment from them of the taste
and desire, for it is this that leaves the soul free and void of them, although
it may have them; for it is not the things of this world that either occupy the
soul or cause it harm, since they enter it not, but rather the will and desire
for them, for it is these that dwell within it.
5. This
first kind of night, as we shall say hereafter, belongs to the soul according
to its sensual part, which is one of the two parts, whereof we spoke above,
through which the soul must pass in order to attain to union.
6. Let
us now say how meet it is for the soul to go forth from its house into this
dark night of sense, in order to travel to union with God.
CHAPTER
IV
Wherein
is declared how necessary it is for the soul truly to pass through this dark
night of sense, which is mortification of desire, in order that it may journey
to union with God.
THE
reason for which it is necessary for the soul, in order to attain to Divine
union with God, to pass through this dark night of mortification of the desires
and denial of pleasures in all things, is because all the affections which it
has for creatures are pure darkness in the eyes of God, and, when the soul is
clothed in these affections, it has no capacity for being enlightened and
possessed by the pure and simple light of God, if it first cast them not from
it; for light cannot agree with darkness; since, as Saint John says: Tenebroe
eam non comprehenderunt.[86] That is: The darkness could
not receive the light.
2. The
reason is that two contraries (even as philosophy teaches us) cannot coexist in
one person; and that darkness, which is affection set upon the creatures, and
light, which is God, are contrary to each other, and have no likeness or accord
between one another, even as Saint Paul taught the Corinthians, saying: Quoe
conventio luci ad tenebras?[87] That is to say: What
communion can there be between light and darkness? Hence it is that the light
of Divine union cannot dwell in the soul if these affections first flee not
away from it.
3. In
order that we may the better prove what has been said, it must be known that
the affection and attachment which the soul has for creatures renders the soul
like to these creatures; and, the greater is its affection, the closer is the
equality and likeness between them; for love creates a likeness between that
which loves and that which is loved. For which reason David, speaking of those
who set their affections upon idols, said thus: Similes illis fiant qui
faciunt ea: et omnes qui confidunt in eis.[88] Which signifies: Let them
that set their heart upon them be like to them. And thus, he that loves a
creature becomes as low as that creature, and, in some ways, lower; for love
not only makes the lover equal to the object of his love, but even subjects him
to it. Hence in the same way it comes to pass that the soul that loves anything
else becomes incapable of pure union with God and transformation in Him. For
the low estate of the creature is much less capable of union with the high
estate of the Creator than is darkness with light. For all things of earth and
heaven, compared with God, are nothing, as Jeremias says in these words: Aspexi
terram, et ecce vacua erat, et nihil; et coelos, et non erat lux in eis.[89] 'I beheld the earth,' he
says, 'and it was void, and it was nothing; and the heavens, and saw that they
had no light.' In saying that he beheld the earth void, he means that all its
creatures were nothing, and that the earth was nothing likewise. And, in saying
that he beheld the heavens and saw no light in them, he says that all the
luminaries of heaven, compared with God, are pure darkness. So that in this way
all the creatures are nothing; and their affections, we may say, are less than
nothing, since they are an impediment to transformation in God and the
privation thereof, even as darkness is not only nothing, but less than nothing,
since it is privation of light. And even as he that is in darkness comprehends
not the light, so the soul that sets its affection upon creatures will be
unable to comprehend God; and, until it be purged, it will neither be able to
possess Him here below, through pure transformation of love, nor yonder in
clear vision. And, for greater clarity, we will now speak in greater detail.
4. All
the being of creation, then, compared with the infinite Being of God, is
nothing. And therefore the soul that sets its affection upon the being of
creation is likewise nothing in the eyes of God, and less than nothing; for, as
we have said, love makes equality and similitude, and even sets the lover below
the object of his love. And therefore such a soul will in no wise be able to
attain to union with the infinite Being of God; for that which is not can have
no communion with that which is. And, coming down in detail to some examples,
all the beauty of the creatures, compared with the infinite beauty of God, is
the height of deformity[90] even as Solomon says in the
Proverbs: Fallax gratia, et vana est pulchritudo.[91] 'Favour is deceitful and
beauty is vain.' And thus the soul that is affectioned to the beauty of any
creature is the height of deformity in the eyes of God. And therefore this soul
that is deformed will be unable to become transformed in beauty, which is God,
since deformity cannot attain to beauty; and all the grace and beauty of the
creatures, compared with the grace of God, is the height of misery[92] and of uncomeliness.
Wherefore the soul that is ravished by the graces and beauties of the creatures
has only supreme[93] misery and unattractiveness
in the eyes of God; and thus it cannot be capable of the infinite grace and loveliness
of God; for that which has no grace is far removed from that which is
infinitely gracious; and all the goodness of the creatures of the world, in
comparison with the infinite goodness of God, may be described as wickedness.
'For there is naught good, save only God.'[94] And therefore the soul that
sets its heart upon the good things of the world is supremely evil in the eyes
of God. And, even as wickedness comprehends not goodness, even so such a soul
cannot be united with God, Who is supreme goodness.
5. All
the wisdom of the world and all human ability, compared with the infinite
wisdom of God, are pure and supreme ignorance, even as Saint Paul writes ad
Corinthios, saying: Sapientia hujus mundi stultitia est apud Deum.[95] 'The wisdom of this world
is foolishness with God.' Wherefore any soul that makes account of all its
knowledge and ability in order to come to union with the wisdom of God is
supremely ignorant in the eyes of God and will remain far removed from that
wisdom; for ignorance knows not what wisdom is, even as Saint Paul says that
this wisdom seems foolishness to God; since, in the eyes of God, those who
consider themselves to be persons with a certain amount of knowledge are very
ignorant, so that the Apostle, writing to the Romans, says of them: Dicentes
enim se esse sapientes, stulti facti sunt. That is: Professing themselves
to be wise, they became foolish.[96] And those alone acquire
wisdom of God who are like ignorant children, and, laying aside their
knowledge, walk in His service with love. This manner of wisdom Saint Paul
taught likewise ad Corinthios: Si quis videtur inter vos sapiens esse
in hoc soeculo, stultus fiat ut sit sapiens. Sapientia enim hujus mundi
stultitia est apud Deum.[97] That is: If any man among
you seem to be wise, let him become ignorant that he may be wise; for the
wisdom of this world is foolishness with God. So that, in order to come to
union with the wisdom of God, the soul has to proceed rather by unknowing than
by knowing; and all the dominion and liberty of the world, compared with the
liberty and dominion of the Spirit of God, is the most abject[98] slavery, affliction and
captivity.
6.
Wherefore the soul that is enamoured of prelacy,[99] or of any other such
office, and longs for liberty of desire, is considered and treated, in the
sight of God, not as a son, but as a base slave and captive, since it has not
been willing to accept His holy doctrine, wherein He teaches us that whoso
would be greater must be less, and whoso would be less must be greater. And
therefore such a soul will be unable to attain to that true liberty of spirit
which is attained in His Divine union. For slavery can have no part with
liberty; and liberty cannot dwell in a heart that is subject to desires, for
this is the heart of a slave; but it dwells in the free man, because he has the
heart of a son. It was for this cause that Sara bade her husband Abraham cast
out the bondwoman and her son, saying that the son of the bondwoman should not
be heir with the son of the free woman.[100]
7. And
all the delights and pleasures of the will in all the things of the world, in
comparison with all those delights which are God, are supreme affliction,
torment and bitterness. And thus he that sets his heart upon them is
considered, in the sight of God, as worthy of supreme affliction, torment and
bitterness; and thus he will be unable to attain to the delights of the embrace
of union with God, since he is worthy of affliction and bitterness. All the
wealth and glory of all creation, in comparison with the wealth which is God,
is supreme poverty and wretchedness. Thus the soul that loves and possesses
creature wealth is supremely poor and wretched in the sight of God, and for
that reason will be unable to attain to that wealth and glory which is the
state of transformation in God; for that which is miserable and poor is
supremely far removed from that which is supremely rich and glorious.
8. And
therefore Divine Wisdom, grieving for such as these, who make themselves vile,
low, miserable and poor, because they love the things in this world which seem
to them so rich and beautiful, addresses an exclamation to them in the
Proverbs, saying: O viri, ad vos clamito, et vox mea ad filios hominum.
Intelligite, parvuli, astutiam, et insipientes, animadvertite. Audite quia de
rebus magnis locutura sum. And farther on he continues: Mecum sunt divitoe,
et gloria, opes superboe et justicia. Melior est fructus meus auro, et lapide
pretioso, et genimina mea argento electo. In viis justitioe ambulo, in medio
semitarum judicii, ut ditem diligentes me, et thesauros eorum repleam.[101] Which signifies: O ye men,
to you I call, and my voice is to the sons of men. Attend, little ones, to
subtlety and sagacity; ye that are foolish, take notice. Hear, for I have to
speak of great things. With me are riches and glory, high riches and justice.
Better is the fruit that ye will find in me than gold and precious stones; and
my generation -- namely, that which ye will engender of me in your souls -- is
better than choice silver. I walk in the ways of justice, in the midst of the
paths of judgment, that I may enrich those that love me and fill their
treasures perfectly. -- Herein Divine Wisdom speaks to all those that set their
hearts and affections upon anything of the world, according as we have already
said. And she calls them 'little ones,' because they make themselves like to
that which they love, which is little. And therefore she tells them to be
subtle and to take note that she is treating of great things and not of things
that are little like themselves. That the great riches and the glory that they
love are with her and in her, and not where they think. And that high riches
and justice dwell in her; for, although they think the things of this world to
be all this, she tells them to take note that her things are better, saying
that the fruit that they will find in them will be better for them than gold
and precious stones; and that which she engenders in souls is better than the
choice silver which they love; by which is understood any kind of affection
that can be possessed in this life.
CHAPTER
V
Wherein
the aforementioned subject is treated and continued, and it is shown by
passages and figures from Holy Scripture how necessary it is for the soul to
journey to God through this dark night of the mortification of desire in all
things.
FROM
what has been said it may be seen in some measure how great a distance there is
between all that the creatures are in themselves and that which God is in
Himself, and how souls that set their affections upon any of these creatures
are at as great a distance as they from God; for, as we have said, love
produces equality and likeness. This distance was clearly realized by Saint
Augustine, who said in the Sololoquies, speaking with God: 'Miserable
man that I am, when will my littleness and imperfection be able to have
fellowship with Thy uprightness? Thou indeed art good, and I am evil; Thou art
merciful, and I am impious; Thou art holy, I am miserable; Thou art just, I am
unjust; Thou art light, I am blind; Thou, life, I, death; Thou, medicine, I,
sick; Thou, supreme truth, I, utter vanity.' All this is said by this Saint.[102]
2.
Wherefore, it is supreme ignorance for the soul to think that it will be able
to pass to this high estate of union with God if first it void not the desire
of all things, natural and supernatural, which may hinder it, according as we
shall explain hereafter;[103] for there is the greatest
possible distance between these things and that which comes to pass in this
estate, which is naught else than transformation in God. For this reason Our
Lord, when showing us this path, said through Saint Luke: Qui non renuntiat
omnibus quoe possidet, non potest meus esse discipulus.[104] This signifies: He that
renounces not all things that he possesses with his will cannot be My disciple.
And this is evident; for the doctrine that the Son of God came to teach was
contempt for all things, whereby a man might receive as a reward the Spirit of
God in himself. For, as long as the soul rejects not all things, it has no
capacity to receive the Spirit of God in pure transformation.
3. Of
this we have a figure in Exodus, wherein we read that God gave not the children
of Israel the food from Heaven, which was manna, until the flour which they had
brought from Egypt failed them. By this is signified that first of all it is
meet to renounce all things, for this angels' food is not fitting for the
palate that would find delight in the food of men. And not only does the soul
become incapable of receiving the Divine Spirit when it stays and pastures on
other strange pleasures, but those souls greatly offend the Divine Majesty who
desire spiritual food and are not content with God alone, but desire rather to
intermingle desire and affection for other things. This can likewise be seen in
the same book of Holy Scripture,[105] wherein it is said that,
not content with that simplest of food, they desired and craved fleshly food.[106] And that Our Lord was
greatly wroth that they should desire to intermingle a food that was so base
and so coarse with one that was so noble[107] and so simple; which,
though it was so, had within itself the sweetness and substance of all foods.[108] Wherefore, while they yet
had the morsels in their mouths, as David says likewise: Ira Dei descendit
super eos.[109] The wrath of God came down
upon them, sending fire from Heaven and consuming many thousands of them; for
God held it an unworthy thing that they should have a desire for other food
when He had given them food from Heaven.
4. Oh,
did spiritual persons but know how much good and what great abundance of spirit
they lose through not seeking to raise up their desires above childish things,
and how in this simple spiritual food they would find the sweetness of all
things, if they desired not to taste those things! But such food gives them no
pleasure, for the reason why the children of Israel received not the sweetness
of all foods that was contained in the manna was that they would not reserve
their desire for it alone. So that they failed to find in the manna all the
sweetness and strength that they could wish, not because it was not contained
in the manna, but because they desired some other thing. Thus he that will love
some other thing together with God of a certainty makes little account of God,
for he weighs in the balance against God that which, as we have said, is at the
greatest possible distance from God.
5. It is
well known by experience that, when the will of a man is affectioned to one
thing, he prizes it more than any other; although some other thing may be much
better, he takes less pleasure in it. And if he wishes to enjoy both, he is
bound to wrong the more important, because he makes an equality between them.
Wherefore, since there is naught that equals God, the soul that loves some
other thing together with Him, or clings to it, does Him a grievous wrong. And
if this is so, what would it be doing if it loved anything more than God?
6. It is
this, too, that was denoted by the command of God to Moses that he should
ascend the Mount to speak with Him: He commanded him not only to ascend it
alone, leaving the children of Israel below, but not even to allow the beasts
to feed over against the Mount.[110] By this He signified that
the soul that is to ascend this mount of perfection, to commune with God, must
not only renounce all things and leave them below, but must not even allow the
desires, which are the beasts, to pasture over against this mount -- that is, upon
other things which are not purely God, in Whom -- that is, in the state of
perfection -- every desire ceases. So he that journeys on the road and makes
the ascent to God must needs be habitually careful to quell and mortify the
desires; and the greater the speed wherewith a soul does this, the sooner will
it reach the end of its journey. Until these be quelled, it cannot reach the
end, however much it practise the virtues, since it is unable to attain to
perfection in them; for this perfection consists in voiding and stripping and
purifying the soul of every desire. Of this we have another very striking
figure in Genesis, where we read that, when the patriarch Jacob desired to
ascend Mount Bethel, in order to build an altar there to God whereon he should
offer Him sacrifice, he first commanded all his people to do three things: one
was that they should cast away from them all strange gods; the second, that
they should purify themselves; the third, that they should change their
garments.[111]
7. By
these three things it is signified that any soul that will ascend this mount in
order to make of itself an altar whereon it may offer to God the sacrifice of
pure love and praise and pure reverence, must, before ascending to the summit
of the mount, have done these three things aforementioned perfectly. First, it
must cast away all strange gods -- namely, all strange affections and
attachments; secondly, it must purify itself of the remnants which the desires
aforementioned have left in the soul, by means of the dark night of sense
whereof we are speaking, habitually denying them and repenting itself of them;
and thirdly, in order to reach the summit of this high mount, it must have
changed its garments, which, through its observance of the first two things,
God will change for it, from old to new, by giving it a new understanding of
God in God, the old human understanding being cast aside; and a new love of God
in God, the will being now stripped of all its old desires and human pleasures,
and the soul being brought into a new state of knowledge and profound delight,
all other old images and forms of knowledge having been cast away, and all that
belongs to the old man, which is the aptitude of the natural self, quelled, and
the soul clothed with a new supernatural aptitude with respect to all its
faculties. So that its operation, which before was human, has become Divine,
which is that that is attained in the state of union, wherein the soul becomes
naught else than an altar whereon God is adored in praise and love, and God
alone is upon it. For this cause God commanded that the altar whereon the Ark
of the Covenant was to be laid should be hollow within;[112] so that the soul may
understand how completely empty of all things God desires it to be, that it may
be an altar worthy of the presence of His Majesty. On this altar it was
likewise forbidden that there should be any strange fire, or that its own fire
should ever fail; and so essential was this that, because Nadab and Abiu, who
were the sons of the High Priest Aaron, offered strange fire upon His Altar,
Our Lord was wroth and slew them there before the altar.[113] By this we are to
understand that the love of God must never fail in the soul, so that the soul
may be a worthy altar, and so that no other love must be mingled with it.
8. God
permits not that any other thing should dwell together with Him. Wherefore we
read in the First Book the Kings that, when the Philistines put the Ark of the
Covenant into the temple where their idol was, the idol was cast down upon the
ground at the dawn of each day, and broken to pieces.[114] And He permits and wills
that there should be only one desire where He is, which is to keep the law of
God perfectly, and to bear upon oneself the Cross of Christ. And thus naught
else is said in the Divine Scripture to have been commanded by God to be put in
the Ark, where the manna was, save the book of the Law,[115] and the rod Moses,[116] which signifies the Cross.
For the soul that aspires naught else than the keeping of the law of the Lord
perfectly and the bearing of the Cross of Christ will be a true Ark, containing
within itself the true manna, which is God, when that soul attains to a perfect
possession within itself of this law and this rod, without any other thing
soever.
CHAPTER
VI
Wherein
are treated two serious evils caused in the soul by the desires, the one evil
being privative and the other positive.
IN
order that what we have said may be the more clearly and fully understood, it
will be well to set down here and state how these desires are the cause of two
serious evils in the soul: the one is that they deprive it of the Spirit of
God, and the other is that the soul wherein they dwell is wearied, tormented,
darkened, defiled and weakened, according to that which is said in Jeremias,
Chapter II: Duo mala fecit Populus meus: dereliquerunt fontem aquoe vivoe,
et foderunt sibi cisternas, dissipatas, quoe continere non valent aquas.
Which signifies: They have forsaken Me, Who am the fountain of living water,
and they have hewed them out broken cisterns, that can hold no water.[117] Those two evils -- namely,
the privative and the positive -- may be caused by any disordered act of the
desire. And, speaking first of all, of the privative, it is clear from the very
fact that the soul becomes affectioned to a thing which comes under the head of
creature, that the more the desire for that thing fills the soul,[118] the less capacity has the
soul for God; inasmuch as two contraries, according to the philosophers, cannot
coexist in one person; and further, since, as we said in the fourth chapter,
affection for God and affection for creatures are contraries, there cannot be
contained within one will affection for creatures and affection for God. For
what has the creature to do with the Creator? What has sensual to do with
spiritual? Visible with invisible? Temporal with eternal? Food that is
heavenly, spiritual and pure with food that is of sense alone and is purely
sensual? Christlike poverty of spirit with attachment to aught soever?
2.
Wherefore, as in natural generation no form can be introduced unless the
preceding, contrary form is first expelled from the subject, which form, while
present, is an impediment to the other by reason of the contrariety which the
two have between each other; even so, for as long as the soul is subjected to
the sensual spirit, the spirit which is pure and spiritual cannot enter it.
Wherefore our Saviour said through Saint Matthew: Non est bonum sumere panem
filiorum, et mittere canibus.[119] That is: It is not meet to
take the children's bread and to cast it to the dogs. And elsewhere, too, he
says through the same Evangelist: Nolite sanctum dare canibus.[120] Which signifies: Give not
that which is holy to the dogs. In these passages Our Lord compares those who
renounce their creature-desires, and prepare themselves to receive the Spirit
of God in purity, to the children of God; and those who would have their desire
feed upon the creatures, to dogs. For it is given to children to eat with their
father at table and from his dish, which is to feed upon His Spirit, and to
dogs are given the crumbs which fall from the table.
3. From
this we are to learn that all created things are crumbs that have fallen from
the table of God. Wherefore he that feeds ever upon[121] the creatures is rightly
called a dog, and therefore the bread is taken from the children, because they
desire not to rise above feeding upon the crumbs, which are created things, to
the Uncreated Spirit of their Father. Therefore, like dogs, they are ever
hungering, and justly so, because the crumbs serve to whet their appetite
rather than to satisfy their hunger. And thus David says of them: Famem
patientur ut canes, et circuibunt civitatem. Si vero non fuerint saturati, et
murmurabunt.[122] Which signifies: They shall
suffer hunger like dogs and shall go round about the city, and, if they find
not enough to fill them, they shall murmur. For this is the nature of one that
has desires, that he is ever discontented and dissatisfied, like one that
suffers hunger; for what has the hunger which all the creatures suffer to do
with the fullness which is caused by the Spirit of God? Wherefore this fullness
that is uncreated cannot enter the soul, if there be not first cast out that
other created hunger which belongs to the desire of the soul; for, as we have
said two contraries cannot dwell in one person, the which contraries in this
case are hunger and fullness.
4. From
what has been said it will be seen how much greater is the work of God[123] in the cleansing and the
purging of a soul from these contrarieties than in the creating of that soul
from nothing. For thee contrarieties, these contrary desires and affections,
are more completely opposed to God and offer Him greater resistance than does
nothingness; for nothingness resists not at all. And let this suffice with
respect to the first of the important evils which are inflicted upon the soul
by the desires -- namely, resistance to the Spirit of God -- since much has
been said of this above.
5. Let
us now speak of the second effect which they cause in the soul. This is of many
kinds, because the desires weary the soul and torment and darken it, and defile
it and weaken it. Of these five things we shall speak separately, in their
turn.
6. With
regard to the first, it is clear that the desires weary and fatigue the soul;
for they are like restless and discontented children, who are ever demanding
this or that from their mother, and are never contented. And even as one that
digs because he covets a treasure is wearied and fatigued, even so is the soul
weary and fatigued in order to attain that which its desires demand of it; and
although in the end it may attain it, it is still weary, because it is never
satisfied; for, after all, the cisterns which it is digging are broken, and
cannot hold water to satisfy thirst. And thus, as Isaias says: Lassus adhuc
sitit, et anima ejus vacua est.[124] Which signifies: His desire
is empty. And the soul that has desires is wearied and fatigued; for it is like
a man that is sick of a fever, who finds himself no better until the fever
leaves him, and whose thirst increases with every moment. For, as is said in
the Book of Job: Cum satiatus fuerit, arctabitur, oestuabit, et omnis dolor
irruet super eum.[125] Which signifies: When he
has satisfied his desire, he will be the more oppressed and straitened; the
heat of desire hath increased in his soul and thus every sorrow will fall upon
him. The soul is wearied and fatigued by its desires, because it is wounded and
moved and disturbed by them as is water by the winds; in just the same way they
disturb it, allowing it not to rest in any place or in any thing soever. And of
such a soul says Isaias: Cor impii quasi mare fervens.[126] 'The heart of the wicked
man is like the sea when it rages.' And he is a wicked man that conquers not
his desires. The soul that would fain satisfy its desires grows wearied and
fatigued; for it is like one that, being an hungered, opens his mouth that he may
sate himself with wind, whereupon, instead of being satisfied, his craving
becomes greater, for the wind is no food for him. To this purpose said
Jeremias: In desiderio animoe sum attraxit ventum amoris sui.[127] As though he were to say: In
the desire of his will he snuffed up the wind of his affection. And he then
tries to describe the aridity wherein such a soul remains, and warns it,
saying: Prohibe pedem tuum a nuditate, et guttur tuum a siti.[128] Which signifies: Keep thy
foot (that is, thy thought) from being bare and thy throat from thirst (that is
to say, thy will from the indulgence of the desire which causes greater
dryness); and, even as the lover is wearied and fatigued upon the day of his
hopes, when his attempt has proved to be vain, so the soul is wearied and
fatigued by all its desires and by indulgence in them, since they all cause it
greater emptiness and hunger; for, as is often said, desire is like the fire,
which increases as wood is thrown upon it, and which, when it has consumed the
wood, must needs die.
7. And
in this regard it is still worse with desire; for the fire goes down when the
wood is consumed, but desire, though it increases when fuel is added to it,
decreases not correspondingly when the fuel is consumed; on the contrary,
instead of going down, as does the fire when its fuel is consumed, it grows
weak through weariness, for its hunger is increased and its food diminished.
And of this Isaias speaks, saying: Declinabit ad dexteram, et esuriet: et
comedet ad sinistram, et non saturabitur.[129] This signifies: He shall
turn to the right hand, and shall be hungry; and he shall eat on the left hand,
and shall not be filled. For they that mortify not their desires, when they
'turn,' justly see the fullness of the sweetness of spirit of those who are at
the right hand of God, which fullness is not granted to themselves; and justly,
too, when they eat on the left hand,[130] by which is meant the
satisfaction of their desire with some creature comfort, they are not filled,
for, leaving aside that which alone can satisfy, they feed on that which causes
them greater hunger. It is clear, then, that the desires weary and fatigue the
soul.
CHAPTER
VII
Wherein
is shown how the desires torment the soul. This is proved likewise by
comparison and quotations.
THE
second kind of positive evil which the desires cause the soul is in their
tormenting and afflicting of it, after the manner of one who is in torment
through being bound with cords from which he has no relief until he be freed.
And of these David says: Funes peccatorum circumplexi sunt me.[131] The cords of my sins, which
are my desires, have constrained me round about. And, even as one that lies
naked upon thorns and briars is tormented and afflicted, even so is the soul
tormented and afflicted when it rests upon its desires. For they take hold upon
it and distress it and cause it pain, even as do thorns. Of these David says
likewise: Circumdederunt me sicut apes: et exarserunt sicut ignis in spinis.[132] Which signifies: They
compassed me about like bees, wounding me with their stings, and they were
enkindled against me, like fire among thorns; for in the desires, which are the
thorns, increases the fire of anguish and torment. And even as the husbandman,
coveting the harvest for which he hopes, afflicts and torments the ox in the
plough, even so does concupiscence afflict a soul that is subject to its desire
to attain that for which it longs. This can be clearly seen in that desire
which Dalila had to know whence Samson derived his strength that was so great,
for the Scripture says that it fatigued and tormented her so much that it
caused her to swoon, almost to the point of death, and she said: Defecit
anima ejus, et ad mortem usque lassata est.[133]
2. The
more intense is the desire, the greater is the torment which it causes the
soul. So that the torment increases with the desire; and the greater are the
desires which possess the soul, the greater are its torments; for in such a
soul is fulfilled, even in this life, that which is said in the Apocalypse
concerning Babylon, in these words: Quantum glorificavit se, et in deliciis
fuit, tantum date illi tormentum, et luctum.[134] That is: As much as she has
wished to exalt and fulfil her desires, so much give ye to her torment and
anguish. And even as one that falls into the hands of his enemies is tormented
and afflicted, even so is the soul tormented and afflicted that is led away by
its desires. Of this there is a figure in the Book of the Judges, wherein it
may be read that that strong man, Samson, who at one time was strong and free
and a judge of Israel, fell into the power of his enemies, and they took his
strength from him, and put out his eyes, and bound him in a mill, to grind corn,[135] wherein they tormented and
afflicted him greatly;[136] and thus it happens to the
soul in which these its enemies, the desires, live and rule; for the first
thing that they do is to weaken the soul and blind it, as we shall say below;
and then they afflict and torment it, binding it to the mill of concupiscence;
and the bonds with which it is bound are its own desires.
3.
Wherefore God, having compassion on these that with such great labour, and at such
cost to themselves, go about endeavouring to satisfy the hunger and thirst of
their desire in the creatures, says to them through Isaias: Omnes sitientes,
venite ad aquas; et qui non habetis argentum, properate, emite, el comedite:
venite, emite absque argento vinum et lac. Quare appenditis argentum non in
panibus, et laborem vestrum non in saturitate?[137] As though He were to say:
All ye that have thirst of desire, come to the waters, and all ye that have no
silver of your own will and desires, make haste; buy from Me and eat; come and
buy from Me wine and milk (that is, spiritual sweetness and peace) without the
silver of your own will, and without giving Me any labour in exchange for it,
as ye give for your desires. Wherefore do ye give the silver of your will for
that which is not bread -- namely, that of the Divine Spirit -- and set the
labour of your desires upon that which cannot satisfy you? Come, hearkening to
Me, and ye shall eat the good that ye desire and your soul shall delight itself
in fatness.
4. This
attaining to fatness is a going forth from all pleasures of the creatures; for
the creatures torment, but the Spirit of God refreshes. And thus He calls us
through Saint Matthew, saying: Venite ad me omnes, qui laboratis et onerati
estis, et ego reficiam vos, et invenietis requiem animabus vestris.[138] As though He were to say:
All ye that go about tormented, afflicted and burdened with the burden of your
cares and desires, go forth from them, come to Me, and I will refresh you and
ye shall find for your souls the rest which your desires take from you,
wherefore they are a heavy burden, for David says of them: Sicut onus grave
gravatoe sunt super me.[139]
CHAPTER
VIII
Wherein
is shown how the desires darken and blind the soul.
THE
third evil that the desires cause in the soul is that they blind and darken it.
Even as vapours darken the air and allow not the bright sun to shine; or as a
mirror that is clouded over cannot receive within itself a clear image; or as
water defiled by mud reflects not the visage of one that looks therein; even so
the soul that is clouded by the desires is darkened in the understanding and
allows neither[140] the sun of natural reason
nor that of the supernatural Wisdom of God to shine upon it and illumine it
clearly. And thus David, speaking to this purpose, says: Comprehenderunt me
iniquitates meoe, et non potui, ut viderem.[141] Which signifies: Mine
iniquities have taken hold upon me, and I could have no power to see.
2. And, at this same time, when the soul is
darkened in the understanding, it is benumbed also in the will, and the memory
becomes dull and disordered in its due operation. For, as these faculties in
their operations depend upon the understanding, it is clear that, when the
understanding is impeded, they will become disordered and troubled. And thus
David says: Anima mea turbata est valde.[142] That is: My soul is sorely
troubled. Which is as much as to say, 'disordered in its faculties.' For, as we
say, the understanding has no more capacity for receiving enlightenment from
the wisdom of God than has the air, when it is dark, for receiving enlightenment
from the sun; neither has the will any power to embrace God within itself in
pure love, even as the mirror that is clouded with vapour has no power to
reflect clearly within itself any visage,[143] and even less power has the
memory which is clouded by the darkness of desire to take clearly upon itself
the form of the image of God, just as the muddled water cannot show forth
clearly the visage of one that looks at himself therein.
3. Desire blinds and darkens the soul; for
desire, as such, is blind, since of itself it has no understanding in itself,
the reason being to it always, as it were, a child leading a blind man. And
hence it comes to pass that, whensoever the soul is guided by its desire, it
becomes blind; for this is as if one that sees were guided by one that sees
not, which is, as it were, for both to be blind. And that which follows from
this is that which Our Lord says through Saint Matthew: Si coecus coeco
ducatum proestet, ambo in foveam cadunt.[144] 'If the blind lead the
blind, both fall into the pit.' Of little use are its eyes to a moth, since
desire for the beauty of the light dazzles it and leads it into the flame.[145] And even so we may say that
one who feeds upon desire is like a fish that is dazzled, upon which the light
acts rather as darkness, preventing it from seeing the snares which the
fishermen are preparing for it. This is very well expressed by David himself,
where he says of such persons: Supercecidit ignis, et non viderunt solem.[146] Which signifies: There came
upon them the fire, which burns with its heat and dazzles with its light. And
it is this that desire does to the soul, enkindling its concupiscence and
dazzling its understanding so that it cannot see its light. For the cause of
its being thus dazzled is that when another light of a different kind is set
before the eye, the visual faculty is attracted by that which is interposed so
that it sees not the other; and, as the desire is set so near to the soul as to
be within the soul itself, the soul meets this first light and is attracted by
it; and thus it is unable to see the light of clear understanding, neither will
see it until the dazzling power of desire is taken away from it.
4. For
this reason one must greatly lament the ignorance of certain men, who burden
themselves with extraordinary penances and with many other voluntary practices,
and think that this practice or that will suffice to bring them to the union of
Divine Wisdom; but such will not be the case if they endeavour not diligently
to mortify their desires. If they were careful to bestow half of that labour on
this, they would profit more in a month than they profit by all the other
practices in many years. For, just as it is necessary to till the earth if it
is to bear fruit, and unless it be tilled it bears naught but weeds, just so is
mortification of the desires necessary if the soul is to profit. Without this
mortification, I make bold to say, the soul no more achieves progress on the
road to perfection and to the knowledge of God of itself, however many efforts
it may make, than the seed grows when it is cast upon untilled ground.
Wherefore the darkness and rudeness of the soul will not be taken from it until
the desires be quenched. For these desires are like cataracts, or like motes in
the eye, which obstruct the sight until they be taken away.
5. And
thus David, realizing how blind are these souls, and how completely impeded
from beholding the light of truth, and how wroth is God with them, speaks to
them, saying: Priusquam intelligerent spinoe vestroe rhamnum: sicut
viventes, sic in ira absorber eos.[147] And this is as though He
had said: Before your thorns (that is, your desires) harden and grow, changing
from tender thorns into a thick hedge and shutting out the sight of God even as
oft-times the living find their thread of life broken in the midst of its
course, even so will God swallow them up in His wrath. For the desires that are
living in the soul, so that it cannot understand Him,[148] will be swallowed up by God
by means of chastisement and correction, either in this life or in the next, and
this will come to pass through purgation. And He says that He will swallow them
up in wrath, because that which is suffered in the mortification of the desires
is punishment for the ruin which they have wrought in the soul.
6. Oh,
if men but knew how great is the blessing of Divine light whereof they are
deprived by this blindness which proceeds from their affections and desires,
and into what great hurts and evils these make them to fall day after day, for
so long as they mortify them not! For a man must not rely upon a clear
understanding, or upon gifts that he has received from God, and think that he
may indulge his affection or desire, and will not be blinded and darkened, and
fall gradually into a worse estate. For who would have said that a man so perfect
in wisdom and the gifts of God as was Solomon would have been reduced to such
blindness and torpor of the will as to make altars to so many idols and to
worship them himself, when he was old?[149] Yet no more was needed to
bring him to this than the affection which he had for women and his neglect to
deny the desires and delights of his heart. For he himself says concerning
himself, in Ecclesiastes, that he denied not his heart that which it demanded
of him.[150] And this man was capable of
being so completely led away by his desires that, although it is true that at
the beginning he was cautious, nevertheless, because he denied them not, they
gradually blinded and darkened his understanding, so that in the end they
succeeded in quenching that great light of wisdom which God had given him, and
therefore in his old age he foresook God.
7. And
if unmortified desires could do so much in this man who knew so well the
distance that lies between good and evil, what will they not be capable of
accomplishing by working upon our ignorance? For we, as God said to the prophet
Jonas concerning the Ninivites, cannot discern between[151] our right hand and our
left.[152] At every step we hold evil
to be good, and good, evil, and this arises from our own nature. What, then,
will come to pass if to our natural darkness is added the hindrance of desire?[153] Naught but that which
Isaias describes thus: Palpavimus, sicut coeci parietem, et quasi absque
oculis attreetavimus: impegimus meridie, quasi in tenebris.[154] The prophet is speaking
with those who love to follow these their desires. It is as if he had said: We
have groped for the wall as though we were blind, and we have been groping as
though we had no eyes, and our blindness has attained to such a point that we
have stumbled at midday as though it were in the darkness. For he that is
blinded by desire has this property, that, when he is set in the midst of truth
and of that which is good for him, he can no more see them than if he were in
darkness.
CHAPTER
IX
Wherein
is described how the desires defile the soul. This is proved by comparisons and
quotations from Holy Scripture.
THE
fourth evil which the desires cause in the soul is that they stain and defile
it, as is taught in Ecclesiasticus, in these words: Qui tetigerit picem,
inquinabitur ab ea.[155] This signifies: He that
toucheth pitch shall be defiled with it. And a man touches pitch when he allows
the desire of his will to be satisfied by any creature. Here it is to be noted
that the Wise Man compares the creatures to pitch; for there is more difference
between excellence of soul and the best of the creatures[156] than there is between pure
diamond,[157] or fine gold, and pitch.
And just as gold or diamond, if it were heated and placed upon pitch, would
become foul and be stained by it, inasmuch as the heat would have cajoled and
allured the pitch, even so the soul that is hot with desire for any creature
draws forth foulness from it through the heat of its desire and is stained by
it. And there is more difference between the soul and other corporeal creatures
than between a liquid that is highly clarified and mud that is most foul.
Wherefore, even as such a liquid would be defiled if it were mingled with mud,
so is the soul defiled that clings to creatures, since by doing this it becomes
like to the said creatures. And in the same way that traces of soot would
defile a face that is very lovely and perfect, even in this way do disordered
desires befoul and defile the soul that has them, the which soul is in itself a
most lovely and perfect image of God.
2.
Wherefore Jeremias, lamenting the ravages of foulness which these disordered
affections cause in the soul, speaks first of its beauty, and then of its
foulness, saying: Candidiores sunt Nazaroei ejus nive, nitidiores lacte,
rubicundiores ebore antiquo, sapphiro pulchriores. Denigrata est super carbones
facies eorum, et non sunt cogniti in plateis.[158] Which signifies: Its hair
-- that is to say, that of the soul -- is more excellent in whiteness than the
snow, clearer[159] than milk, and ruddier than
old ivory, and lovelier than the sapphire stone. Their face has now become
blacker than coal and they are not known in the streets.[160] By the hair we here
understand the affections and thoughts of the soul, which, ordered as God
orders them -- that is, in God Himself -- are whiter than snow, and clearer[161] than milk, and ruddier than
ivory, and lovelier than the sapphire. By these four things is understood every
kind of beauty and excellence of corporeal creatures, higher than which, says
the writer, are the soul and its operations, which are the Nazarites or the
hair aforementioned; the which Nazarites, being unruly,[162] with their lives ordered in
a way that God ordered not -- that is, being set upon the creatures -- have
their face (says Jeremias) made and turned blacker than coal.
3. All
this harm, and more, is done to the beauty of the soul by its unruly desires
for the things of this world; so much so that, if we set out to speak of the
foul and vile appearance that the desires can give the soul, we should find
nothing, however full of cobwebs and worms it might be, not even the corruption
of a dead body, nor aught else that is impure and vile, nor aught that can
exist and be imagined in this life, to which we could compare it. For, although
it is true that the unruly soul, in its natural being, is as perfect as when
God created it, yet, in its reasonable being, it is vile, abominable, foul,
black and full of all the evils that are here being described, and many more.
For, as we shall afterwards say, a single unruly desire, although there be in
it no matter of mortal sin, suffices to bring a soul into such bondage,
foulness and vileness that it can in no wise come to accord with God in union[163] until the desire be
purified. What, then, will be the vileness of the soul that is completely
unrestrained with respect to its own passions and given up to its desires, and
how far removed will it be from God and from His purity?
4. It is
impossible to explain in words, or to cause to be understood by the
understanding, what variety of impurity is caused in the soul by a variety of
desires. For, if it could be expressed and understood, it would be a wondrous
thing, and one also which would fill us with pity, to see how each desire, in
accordance with its quality and degree, be it greater or smaller, leaves in the
soul its mark and deposit of impurity and vileness, and how one single disorder
of the reason can be the source of innumerable different impurities, some
greater, some less, each one after its kind. For, even as the soul of the
righteous man has in one single perfection, which is uprightness of soul,
innumerable gifts of the greatest richness, and many virtues of the greatest
loveliness, each one different and full of grace after its kind according to
the multitude and the diversity of the affections of love which it has had in
God, even so the unruly soul, according to the variety of the desires which it
has for the creatures, has in itself a miserable variety of impurities and
meannesses, wherewith it is endowed[164] by the said desires.
5. The
variety of these desires is well illustrated in the Book of Ezechiel, where it
is written that God showed this Prophet, in the interior of the Temple, painted
around its walls, all likenesses of creeping things which crawl on the ground,
and all the abomination of unclean beasts.[165] And then God said to
Ezechiel: 'Son of man, hast thou not indeed seen the abominations that these
do, each one in the secrecy of his chamber?'[166] And God commanded the
Prophet to go in farther and he would see greater abominations; and he says
that he there saw women seated, weeping for Adonis, the god of love.[167] And God commanded him to go
in farther still, and he would see yet greater abominations, and he says that
he saw there five-and-twenty old men whose backs were turned toward the Temple.[168]
6. The
diversity of creeping things and unclean beasts that were painted in the first
chamber of the Temple are the thoughts and conceptions which the understanding
fashions from the lowly things of earth, and from all the creatures, which are
painted, just as they are, in the temple of the soul, when the soul embarrasses
its understanding with them, which is the soul's first habitation. The women
that were farther within, in the second habitation, weeping for the god Adonis,
are the desires that are in the second faculty of the soul, which is the will;
the which are, as it were, weeping, inasmuch as they covet that to which the
will is affectioned, which are the creeping things painted in the
understandings. And the men that were in the third habitation are the images
and representations of the creatures, which the third part of the soul --
namely memory -- keeps and reflects upon[169] within itself. Of these it
is said that their backs are turned toward the Temple because when the soul,
according to these three faculties, completely and perfectly embraces anything
that is of the earth, it can be said to have its back turned toward the Temple
of God, which is the right reason of the soul, which admits within itself
nothing that is of creatures.
7. And
let this now suffice for the understanding of this foul disorder of the soul
with respect to its desires. For if we had to treat in detail of the lesser
foulness which these imperfections and their variety make and cause in the
soul, and that which is caused by venial sins, which is still greater than that
of the imperfections, and their great variety, and likewise that which is
caused by the desires for mortal sin, which is complete foulness of the soul,
and its great variety, according to the variety and multitude of all these
three things, we should never end, nor would the understanding of angels
suffice to understand it. That which I say, and that which is to the point for
my purpose, is that any desire, although it be for but the smallest
imperfection, stains and defiles the soul.
CHAPTER
X
Wherein
is described how the desires weaken the soul in virtue and make it lukewarm.
THE
fifth way in which the desires harm the soul is by making it lukewarm and weak,
so that it has no strength to follow after virtue and to persevere therein. For
as the strength of the desire, when it is set upon various aims, is less than
if it were set wholly on one thing alone, and as, the more are the aims whereon
it is set, the less of it there is for each of them, for this cause
philosophers say that virtue in union is stronger than if it be dispersed.
Wherefore it is clear that, if the desire of the will be dispersed among other
things than virtue, it must be weaker as regards virtue. And thus the soul
whose will is set upon various trifles is like water, which, having a place
below wherein to empty itself, never rises; and such a soul has no profit. For
this cause the patriarch Jacob compared his son Ruben to water poured out,
because in a certain sin he had given rein to his desires. And he said: Thou
art poured out like water; grow thou not.'[170] As though he had said:
Since thou art poured out like water as to the desires, thou shalt not grow in
virtue. And thus, as hot water, when uncovered, readily loses heat, and as
aromatic spices, when they are unwrapped, gradually lose the fragrance and
strength of their perfume, even so the soul that is not recollected in one
single desire for God loses heat and vigour in its virtue. This was well
understood by David, when he said, speaking with God: I will keep my strength
for Thee.[171] That is, concentrating the
strength of my desires upon Thee alone.
2. And
the desires weaken the virtue of the soul, because they are to it like the
shoots that grow about a tree, and take away its virtue so that it cannot bring
forth so much fruit. And of such souls as these says the Lord: Voe
proegnantibus, et nutrientibus in illis diebus.[172] That is: Woe to them that
in those days are with child and to them that give suck. This being with child
and giving suck is understood with respect to the desires; which, if they be
not pruned, will ever be taking more virtue from the soul, and will grow to the
harm of the soul, like the shoots upon the tree. Wherefore Our Lord counsels
us, saying: Have your loins girt about[173] -- the loins signifying
here the desires. And indeed, they are also like leeches, which are ever
sucking the blood from the veins, for thus the Preacher terms them when he
says: The leeches are the daughters -- that is, the desires -- saying ever: Daca,
daca.[174]
3. From
this it is clear that the desires bring no good to the soul but rather take
from it that which it has; and, if it mortify them not, they will not cease
till they have wrought in it that which the children of the viper are said to
work in their mother; who, as they are growing within her womb, consume her and
kill her, and they themselves remain alive at her cost. Just so the desires
that are not mortified grow to such a point that they kill the soul with
respect to God because it has not first killed them. And they alone live in it.
Wherefore the Preacher says: Aufer a me Domine ventris concupiscentias.[175]
4. And,
even though they reach not this point, it is very piteous to consider how the
desires that live in this poor soul treat it, how unhappy it is with regard to
itself, how dry with respect to its neighbours, and how weary and slothful with
respect to the things of God. For there is no evil humour that makes it as
wearisome and difficult for a sick man to walk, or gives him a distaste for
eating comparable to the weariness and distaste for following virtue which is
given to a soul by desire for creatures. And thus the reason why many souls
have no diligence and eagerness to gain virtue is, as a rule, that they have
desires and affections which are not pure and are not fixed upon God.[176]
CHAPTER
XI
Wherein
it is proved necessary that the soul that would attain to Divine union should
be free from desires, however slight they be.
I
EXPECT that for a long time the reader has been wishing to ask whether it be
necessary, in order to attain to this high estate of perfection, to undergo
first of all total mortification in all the desires, great and small, or if it
will suffice to mortify some of them and to leave others, those at least which
seem of little moment. For it appears to be a severe and most difficult thing
for the soul to be able to attain to such purity and detachment that it has no
will and affection for anything.
2. To
this I reply: first, that it is true that all the desires are not equally
hurtful, nor do they all equally embarrass the soul. I am speaking of those
that are voluntary, for the natural desires hinder the soul little, if at all,
from attaining to union, when they are not consented to nor pass beyond the
first movements (I mean,[177] all those wherein the
rational will has had no part, whether at first or afterward); and to take away
these -- that is, to mortify them wholly in this life -- is impossible. And
these hinder not the soul in such a way as to prevent its attainment to Divine
union, even though they be not, as I say, wholly mortified; for the natural man
may well have them, and yet the soul may be quite free from them according to
the rational spirit. For it will sometimes come to pass that the soul will be
in the full[178] union of the prayer of
quiet in the will at the very time when these desires are dwelling in the
sensual part of the soul, and yet the higher part, which is in prayer, will
have nothing to do with them. But all the other voluntary desires, whether they
be of mortal sin, which are the gravest, or of venial sin, which are less
grave, or whether they be only of imperfections, which are the least grave of
all, must be driven away every one, and the soul must be free from them all,
howsoever slight they be, if it is to come to this complete union; and the
reason is that the state of this Divine union consists in the soul's total
transformation, according to the will, in the will of God, so that, there may
be naught in the soul that is contrary to the will of God, but that, in all and
through all, its movement may be that of the will of God alone.
3. It is
for this reason that we say of this state that it is the making of two wills
into one -- namely, into the will of God, which will of God is likewise the
will of the soul. For if this soul desired any imperfection that God wills not,
there would not be made one will of God, since the soul would have a will for
that which God has not. It is clear, then, that for the soul to come to unite
itself perfectly with God through love and will, it must first be free from all
desire of the will, howsoever slight. That is, that it must not intentionally
and knowingly consent with the will to imperfections, and it must have power
and liberty to be able not so to consent intentionally. I say knowingly,
because, unintentionally and unknowingly, or without having the power to do
otherwise, it may well fall into imperfections and venial sins, and into the
natural desires whereof we have spoken; for of such sins as these which are not
voluntary and surreptitious it is written that the just man shall fall seven
times in the day and shall rise up again.[179] But of the voluntary
desires, which, though they be for very small things, are, as I have said,
intentional venial sins, any one that is not conquered suffices to impede
union.[180] I mean, if this habit be
not mortified; for sometimes certain acts of different desires have not as much
power when the habits are mortified. Still, the soul will attain to the stage
of not having even these, for they likewise proceed from a habit of
imperfection. But some habits of voluntary imperfections, which are never
completely conquered, prevent not only the attainment of Divine union, but also
progress in perfection.
4. These
habitual imperfections are, for example, a common custom of much speaking, or
some slight attachment which we never quite wish to conquer -- such as that to
a person, a garment, a book, a cell, a particular kind of food, tittle-tattle,
fancies for tasting, knowing or hearing certain things, and suchlike. Any one
of these imperfections, if the soul has become attached and habituated to it,
is of as great harm to its growth and progress in virtue as though it were to
fall daily into many other imperfections and usual venial sins which proceed
not from a habitual indulgence in any habitual and harmful attachment, and will
not hinder it so much as when it has attachment to anything. For as long as it
has this there is no possibility that it will make progress in perfection, even
though the imperfection be extremely slight. For it comes to the same thing
whether a bird be held by a slender cord or by a stout one; since, even if it
be slender, the bird will be well held as though it were stout, for so long as
it breaks it not and flies not away. It is true that the slender one is the
easier to break; still, easy though it be, the bird will not fly away if it be
not broken. And thus the soul that has attachment to anything, however much
virtue it possess, will not attain to the liberty of Divine union. For the
desire and the attachment of the soul have that power which the sucking-fish[181] is said to have when it
clings to a ship; for, though but a very small fish, if it succeed in clinging
to the ship, it makes it incapable of reaching the port, or of sailing on at
all. It is sad to see certain souls in this plight; like rich vessels, they are
laden with wealth and good works and spiritual exercises, and with the virtues
and the favours that God grants them; and yet, because they have not the resolution
to break with some whim or attachment or affection (which all come to the same
thing), they never make progress or reach the port of perfection, though they
would need to do no more than make one good flight and thus to snap that cord
of desire right off, or to rid themselves of that sucking-fish of desire which
clings to them.
5. It is
greatly to be lamented that, when God has granted them strength to break other
and stouter cords[182] -- namely, affections for
sins and vanities -- they should fail to attain to such blessing because they
have not shaken off some childish thing which God had bidden them conquer for
love of Him, and which is nothing more than a thread or a hair.[183] And, what is worse, not
only do they make no progress, but because of this attachment they fall back,
lose that which they have gained, and retrace that part of the road along which
they have travelled at the cost of so much time and labour; for it is well
known that, on this road, not to go forward is to turn back, and not to be
gaining is to be losing. This Our Lord desired to teach us when He said: 'He
that is not with Me is against Me; and he that gathereth not with Me
scattereth.'[184] He that takes not the
trouble to repair the vessel, however slight be the crack in it, is likely to
spill all the liquid that is within it. The Preacher taught us this clearly
when he said: He that contemneth small things shall fall by little and little.[185] For, as he himself says, a
great fire cometh from a single spark.[186] And thus one imperfection
is sufficient to lead to another; and these lead to yet more; wherefore you
will hardly ever see a soul that is negligent in conquering one desire, and
that has not many more arising from the same weakness and imperfection that
this desire causes. In this way they are continually filling; we have seen many
persons to whom God has been granting the favour of leading them a long way,
into a state of great detachment and liberty, yet who, merely through beginning
to indulge some slight attachment, under the pretext of doing good, or in the
guise of conversation and friendship, often lose their spirituality and desire
for God and holy solitude, fall from the joy and wholehearted devotion which
they had in their spiritual exercises, and cease not until they have lost
everything; and this because they broke not with that beginning of sensual
desire and pleasure and kept not themselves in solitude for God.
6. Upon
this road we must ever journey in order to attain our goal; which means that we
must ever be mortifying our desires and not indulging them; and if they are not
all completely mortified we shall not completely attain. For even as a log of
wood may fail to be transformed in the fire because a single degree of heat is
wanting to it, even so the soul will not be transformed in God if it have but
one imperfection, although it be something less than voluntary desire; for, as
we shall say hereafter concerning the night of faith, the soul has only one
will, and that will, if it be embarrassed by aught and set upon by aught, is
not free, solitary, and pure, as is necessary for Divine transformation.
7. Of
this that has been said we have a figure in the Book of the Judges, where it is
related that the angel came to the children of Israel and said to them that,
because they had not destroyed that forward people, but had made a league with
some of them, they would therefore be left among them as enemies, that they
might be to them an occasion of stumbling and perdition.[187] And just so does God deal
with certain souls: though He has taken them out of the world, and slain the
giants, their sins, and destroyed the multitude of their enemies, which are the
occasions of sin that they encountered in the world, solely that they may enter
this Promised Land of Divine union with greater liberty, yet they harbour friendship
and make alliance with the insignificant peoples[188] -- that is, with
imperfections -- and mortify them not completely; therefore Our Lord is angry,
and allows them to fall into their desires and go from bad to worse.
8. In
the Book of Josue, again, we have a figure of what has just been said -- where
we read that God commanded Josue, at the time that he had to enter into
possession of the Promised Land, to destroy all things that were in the city of
Jericho, in such wise as to leave therein nothing alive, man or woman, young or
old, and to slay all the beasts, and to take naught, neither to covet aught, of
all the spoils.[189] This He said that we may
understand how, if a man is to enter this Divine union, all that lives in his
soul must die, both little and much, small and great, and that the soul must be
without desire for all this, and detached from it, even as though it existed
not for the soul, neither the soul for it. This Saint Paul teaches us clearly
in his epistle ad Corinthios, saying: 'This I say to you, brethren, that
the time is short; it remains, and it behoves you, that they that have wives
should be as if they had none; and they that weep for the things of this world,
as though they wept not; and they that rejoice, as if they rejoiced not; and
they that buy, as though they possessed not; and they that use this world, as
if they used it not.'[190] This the Apostle says to us
in order to teach us how complete must be the detachment of our soul from all
things if it is to journey to God.
CHAPTER
XII
Which
treats of the answer to another question, explaining what the desires are that
suffice to cause the evils aforementioned in the soul.
WE
might write at greater length upon this matter of the night of sense, saying
all that there is to say concerning the harm which is caused by the desires,
not only in the ways aforementioned, but in many others. But for our purpose
that which has been said suffices; for we believe we have made it clear in what
way the mortification of these desires is called night, and how it behoves us
to enter this night in order to journey to God. The only thing that remains,
before we treat of the manner of entrance therein, in order to bring this part
to a close, is a question concerning what has been said which might occur to
the reader.
2. It
may first be asked if any desire can be sufficient to work and produce in the
soul the two evils aforementioned -- namely, the privative, which consists in
depriving the soul of the grace of God, and the positive, which consists in
producing within it the five serious evils whereof we have spoken. Secondly, it
may be asked if any desire, however slight it be and of whatever kind, suffices
to produce all these together, or if some desires produce some and others
produce others. If, for example, some produce torment; others, weariness;
others, darkness, etc.
3.
Answering this question, I say, first of all, that with respect to the
privative evil -- which consists in the soul's being deprived of God -- this is
wrought wholly, and can only be wrought, by the voluntary desires, which are of
the matter of mortal sin; for they deprive the soul of grace in this life, and
of glory, which is the possession of God, in the next. In the second place, I say
that both those desires which are of the matter of mortal sin, and the
voluntary desires, which are of the matter of venial sin, and those that are of
the matter of imperfection, are each sufficient to produce in the soul all
these positive evils together; the which evils, although in a certain way they
are privative, we here call positive, since they correspond to a turning
towards the creature, even as the privative evils correspond to a turning away
from God. But there is this difference, that the desires which are of mortal
sin produce total blindness, torment, impurity, weakness, etc. Those others,
however, which are of the matter of venial sin or imperfection, produce not
these evils in a complete and supreme degree, since they deprive not the soul of
grace, upon the loss of which depends the possession of them, since the death
of the soul is their life; but they produce them in the soul remissly,
proportionately to the remission of grace which these desires produce in the
soul.[191] So that desire which most
weakens grace will produce the most abundant torment, blindness and defilement.
4. It
should be noted, however, that, although each desire produces all these evils,
which we here term positive, there are some which, principally and directly,
produce some of them, and others which produce others, and the remainder are
produced consequently upon these. For, although it is true that one sensual
desire produces all these evils, yet its principal and proper effect is the
defilement of soul and body. And, although one avaricious desire produces them
all, its principal and direct result is to produce misery. And, although
similarly one vainglorious desire produces them all, its principal and direct
result is to produce darkness and blindness. And, although one gluttonous
desire produces them all, its principal result is to produce lukewarmness in
virtue. And even so is it with the rest.
5. And
the reason why any act of voluntary desire produces in the soul all these
effects together lies in the direct contrariety which exists between them and
all the acts of virtue which produce the contrary effects in the soul. For,
even as an act of virtue produces and begets in the soul sweetness, peace,
consolation, light, cleanness and fortitude altogether, even so an unruly
desire causes torment, fatigue, weariness, blindness and weakness. All the
virtues grow through the practice of any one of them, and all the vices grow
through the practice of any one of them likewise, and the remnants[192] of each grow in the soul.
And although all these evils are not evident at the moment when the desire is
indulged, since the resulting pleasure gives no occasion for them, yet the evil
remnants which they leave are clearly perceived, whether before or afterwards.
This is very well illustrated by that book which the angel commanded Saint John
to eat, in the Apocalypse, the which book was sweetness to his mouth, and in
his belly bitterness.[193] For the desire, when it is
carried into effect, is sweet and appears to be good, but its bitter taste is
felt afterwards; the truth of this can be clearly proved by anyone who allows
himself to be led away by it. Yet I am not ignorant that there are some men so
blind and insensible as not to feel this, for, as they do not walk in God, they
are unable to perceive that which hinders them from approaching Him.
6. I am
not writing here of the other natural desires which are not voluntary, and of
thoughts that go not beyond the first movements, and other temptations to which
the soul is not consenting; for these produce in the soul none of the evils
aforementioned. For, although a person who suffers from them may think that the
passion and disturbance which they then produce in him are defiling and
blinding him, this is not the case; rather they are bringing him the opposite
advantages. For, in so far as he resists them, he gains fortitude, purity,
light and consolation, and many blessings, even as Our Lord said to Saint Paul:
That virtue was made perfect in weakness.[194] But the voluntary desires
work all the evils aforementioned, and more. Wherefore the principal care of
spiritual masters is to mortify their disciples immediately with respect to any
desire soever, by causing them to remain without the objects of their desires,
in order to free them from such great misery.
CHAPTER
XIII
Wherein
is described the manner and way which the soul must follow in order to enter
this night of sense.
IT
now remains for me to give certain counsels whereby the soul may know how to
enter this night of sense and may be able so to do. To this end it must be
known that the soul habitually enters this night of sense in two ways: the one
is active; the other passive. The active way consists in that which the soul
can do, and does, of itself, in order to enter therein, whereof we shall now
treat in the counsels which follow. The passive way is that wherein the soul
does nothing, and God works in it, and it remains, as it were, patient. Of this
we shall treat in the fourth book, where we shall be treating of beginners. And
because there, with the Divine favour, we shall give many counsels to
beginners, according to the many imperfections which they are apt to have while
on this road, I shall not spend time in giving many here. And this, too,
because it belongs not to this place to give them, as at present we are
treating only of the reasons for which this journey is called a night, and of
what kind it is, and how many parts it has. But, as it seems that it would be
incomplete, and less profitable than it should be, if we gave no help or
counsel here for walking in this night of desires, I have thought well to set
down briefly here the way which is to be followed: and I shall do the same at
the end of each of the next two parts, or causes, of this night, whereof, with
the help of the Lord, I have to treat.
2. These
counsels for the conquering of the desires, which now follow, albeit brief and
few, I believe to be as profitable and efficacious as they are concise; so that
one who sincerely desires to practice them will need no others, but will find
them all included in these.
3.
First, let him have an habitual desire[195] to imitate Christ in
everything that he does, conforming himself to His life; upon which life he
must meditate so that he may know how to imitate it, and to behave in all
things as Christ would behave.
4.
Secondly, in order that he may be able to do this well, every pleasure that
presents itself to the senses, if it be not purely for the honour and glory of
God, must be renounced and completely rejected for the love of Jesus Christ,
Who in this life had no other pleasure, neither desired any, than to do the
will of His Father, which He called His meat and food.[196] I take this example. If
there present itself to a man the pleasure of listening to things that tend not
to the service and honour of God, let him not desire that pleasure, nor desire
to listen to them; and if there present itself the pleasure of looking at
things that help him not Godward, let him not desire the pleasure or look at
these things; and if in conversation or in aught else soever such pleasure
present itself, let him act likewise. And similarly with respect to all the
senses, in so far as he can fairly avoid the pleasure in question; if he
cannot, it suffices that, although these things may be present to his senses,
he desires not to have this pleasure. And in this wise he will be able to
mortify and void his senses of such pleasure, as though they were in darkness.
If he takes care to do this, he will soon reap great profit.
5. For
the mortifying and calming of the four natural passions, which are joy, hope,
fear and grief, from the concord and pacification whereof come these and other
blessings, the counsels here following are of the greatest help, and of great
merit, and the source of great virtues.
6. Strive
always to prefer, not that which is easiest, but that which is most difficult;
Not that
which is most delectable, but that which is most unpleasing;
Not that
which gives most pleasure, but rather that which gives least;
Not that
which is restful, but that which is wearisome;
Not that
which is consolation, but rather that which is disconsolateness;
Not that
which is greatest, but that which is least;
Not that
which is loftiest and most precious, but that which is lowest and most
despised;
Not that
which is[197] a desire for anything, but
that which is a desire for nothing;
Strive
to go about seeking not the best of temporal things, but the worst.
Strive
thus to desire to enter into complete detachment and emptiness and poverty,
with respect to everything that is in the world, for Christ's sake.
7. And
it is meet that the soul embrace these acts with all its heart and strive to
subdue its will thereto. For, if it perform them with its heart, it will very
quickly come to find in them great delight and consolation, and to act with
order and discretion.
8. These
things that have been said, if they be faithfully put into practice, are quite
sufficient for entrance into the night of sense; but, for greater completeness,
we shall describe another kind of exercise which teaches us to mortify the
concupiscence of the flesh and the concupiscence of the eyes, and the pride of
life, which, says Saint John,[198] are the things that reign
in the world, from which all the other desires proceed.
9.
First, let the soul strive to work in its own despite, and desire all to do so.
Secondly, let it strive to speak in its own despite and desire all to do so.
Third, let it strive to think humbly of itself, in its own despite, and desire
all to do so.
10. To
conclude these counsels and rules, it will be fitting to set down here those
lines which are written in the Ascent of the Mount, which is the figure that is
at the beginning of this book; the which lines are instructions for ascending
to it, and thus reaching the summit of union. For, although it is true that
that which is there spoken of is spiritual and interior, there is reference
likewise to the spirit of imperfection according to sensual and exterior things,
as may be seen by the two roads which are on either side of the path of
perfection. It is in this way and according to this sense that we shall
understand them here; that is to say, according to that which is sensual.
Afterwards, in the second part of this night, they will be understood according
to that which is spiritual.[199]
11. The
lines are these:
In order
to arrive at having pleasure in everything,
Desire to have pleasure in nothing.
In order
to arrive at possessing everything,
Desire to possess nothing.
In order
to arrive at being everything,
Desire to be nothing.
In order
to arrive at knowing everything,
Desire to know nothing.[200]
In order
to arrive at that wherein thou hast no pleasure,
Thou must go by a way wherein thou hast no pleasure.
In order
to arrive at that which thou knowest not,
Thou must go by a way that thou knowest not.
In order
to arrive at that which thou possessest not,
Thou must go by a way that thou possessest not.
In order
to arrive at that which thou art not,
Thou must go through that which thou art not.
12. When
thy mind dwells upon anything,
Thou art ceasing to cast thyself upon the All.
For, in
order to pass from the all to the All,
Thou hast to deny thyself wholly[201] in all.
And, when
thou comest to possess it wholly,
Thou must possess it without desiring anything.
For, if
thou wilt have anything in having all,[202]
Thou hast not thy treasure purely in God.
13. In
this detachment the spiritual soul finds its quiet and repose; for, since it
covets nothing, nothing wearies it when it is lifted up, and nothing oppresses
it when it is cast down, because it is in the centre of its humility; but when
it covets anything, at that very moment it becomes wearied.
CHAPTER
XIV
Wherein is expounded the
second line of the stanza.
Kindled in love with yearnings.
NOW
that we have expounded the first line of this stanza, which treats of the night
of sense, explaining what this night of sense is, and why it is called night;
and now that we have likewise described the order and manner which are to be
followed for a soul to enter therein actively, the next thing to be treated in
due sequence is its properties and effects, which are wonderful, and are
described in the next lines of the stanza aforementioned, upon which I will
briefly touch for the sake of expounding the said lines, as I promised in the
Prologue;[203] and I will then pass on at
once to the second book, treating of the other part of this night, which is the
spiritual.
2. The soul, then, says that, 'kindled in
love with yearnings,' it passed through this dark night of sense and came out
thence to the union of the Beloved. For, in order to conquer all the desires
and to deny itself the pleasures which it has in everything, and for which its
love and affection are wont to enkindle the will that it may enjoy them, it
would need to experience another and a greater enkindling by an other and a
better love, which is that of its Spouse; to the end that, having its pleasure
set upon Him and deriving from Him its strength, it should have courage and
constancy to deny itself all other things with ease. And, in order to conquer
the strength of the desires of sense, it would need, not only to have love for
its Spouse, but also to be enkindled by love and to have yearnings. For it
comes to pass, and so it is, that with such yearnings of desire the sensual
nature is moved and attracted toward sensual things, so that, if the spiritual
part be not enkindled with other and greater yearnings for that which is
spiritual, it will be unable to throw off the yoke of nature[204] or to enter this night of
sense, neither will it have courage to remain in darkness as to all things,
depriving itself of desire for them all.
3. And
the nature and all the varieties of these yearnings of love which souls
experience in the early stages of this road to union; and the diligent means
and contrivances which they employ in order to leave their house, which is
self-will, during the night of the mortification of their senses; and how easy,
and even sweet and delectable, these yearnings for the Spouse make all the
trials and perils of this night to appear to them, this is not the place to
describe, neither is such description possible; for it is better to know and
meditate upon these things than to write of them. And so we shall pass on to
expound the remaining lines in the next chapter.
CHAPTER
XV
Wherein are expounded the
remaining lines of the aforementioned stanza.
. . . oh, happy chance! --
I went
forth without being observed, My house being now at rest.
THESE
lines take as a metaphor the miserable estate of captivity, a man's deliverance
from which, when none of the gaolers' hinder his release, he considers a 'happy
chance.' For the soul, on account of[205] original sin, is truly as
it were a captive in this mortal body, subject to the passions and desires of
nature, from bondage and subjection to which it considers its having gone forth
without being observed as a 'happy chance' -- having gone forth, that is,
without being impeded or engulfed[206] by any of them.
2. For
to this end the soul profited by going forth upon a 'dark night' -- that is, in
the privation of all pleasures and mortification of all desires, after the
manner whereof we have spoken. And by its 'house being now at rest' is meant
the sensual part, which is the house of all the desires, and is now at rest
because they have all been overcome and lulled to sleep. For until the desires
are lulled to sleep through the mortification of the sensual nature, and until
at last the sensual nature itself is at rest from them, so that they make not
war upon the spirit, the soul goes not forth to true liberty and to the
fruition of union with its Beloved.
END
OF THE FIRST BOOK
BOOK THE SECOND
OF
THE ASCENT OF MT. CARMEL'
Wherein
is treated the proximate means of ascending to union with God, which is faith;
and wherein therefore is described the second part of this night, which, as we
said, belongs to the spirit, and is contained in the second stanza, which is as
follows.
STANZA
THE SECOND
CHAPTER
I
In
darkness and secure, By the secret ladder, disguised -- oh, happy chance! --
In
darkness and in concealment, My house being now at rest.
IN
this second stanza the soul sings of the happy chance which it experienced in
stripping the spirit of all spiritual imperfections and desires for the
possession of spiritual things. This was a much greater happiness to, by reason
of the greater difficulty that there is in putting to rest this house of the
spiritual part, and of being able to enter this interior darkness, which is
spiritual detachment from all things, whether sensual or spiritual, and leaning
on pure faith alone and an ascent thereby to God. The soul here calls this a
'ladder,' and 'secret,' because all the rungs and parts of it[207] are secret and hidden from
all sense and understanding. And thus the soul has remained in darkness as to
all light of sense and understanding, going forth beyond all limits of nature
and reason in order to ascend by this Divine ladder of faith, which attains[208] and penetrates even to the
heights[209] of God. The soul says that
it was travelling 'disguised,' because the garments and vesture which it wears
and its natural condition are changed into the Divine, as it ascends by faith.
And it was because of this disguise that it was not recognized or impeded,
either by time or by reason or by the devil; for none of these things can harm
one that journeys in faith. And not only so, but the soul travels in such wise
concealed and hidden and is so far from all the deceits of the devil that in
truth it journeys (as it also says here) 'in darkness and in concealment' --
that is to say, hidden from the devil, to whom the light of faith is more than
darkness.
2. And thus
the soul that journeys through this night, we may say, journeys in concealment
and in hiding from the devil, as will be more clearly seen hereafter. Wherefore
the soul says that it went forth 'in darkness and secure'; for one that has
such happiness as to be able to journey through the darkness of faith, taking
faith for his guide, like to one that is blind,[210] and leaving behind all
natural imaginings and spiritual reasonings, journeys very securely, as we have
said. And so the soul says furthermore that it went forth through this
spiritual night, its 'house being now at rest' -- that is to say, its spiritual
and rational parts. When, therefore, the soul attains to union which is of God,
its natural faculties are at rest, as are likewise its impulses and yearnings
of the senses, in its spiritual part. For this cause the soul says not here
that it went forth with yearnings, as in the first night of sense. For, in
order to journey in the night of sense, and to strip itself of that which is of
sense, it needed yearnings of sense-love so that it might go forth perfectly;
but, in order to put to rest the house of its spirit, it needs no more than
denial[211] of all faculties and
pleasures and desires of the spirit in pure faith. This attained, the soul is
united with the Beloved in a union of simplicity and purity and love and
similitude.
3. And
it must be remembered that the first stanza, speaking of the sensual part, says
that the soul went forth upon 'a dark night,' and here, speaking of the
spiritual part, it says that it went forth 'in darkness.' For the darkness of
the spiritual part is by far the greater, even as darkness is a greater
obscurity than that of night. For, however dark a night may be, something can
always be seen, but in true darkness nothing can be seen; and thus in the night
of sense there still remains some light, for the understanding and reason
remain, and are not blinded. But this spiritual night, which is faith, deprives
the soul of everything, both as to understanding and as to sense. And for this
cause the soul in this night says that it was journeying 'in darkness and
secure,' which it said not in the other. For, the less the soul works with its
own ability, the more securely it journeys, because it journeys more in faith.
And this will be expounded at length in the course of this second book, wherein
it will be necessary for the devout reader to proceed attentively, because
there will be said herein things of great importance to the person that is
truly spiritual.[212] And, although they are
somewhat obscure, some of them will pave the way to others, so that I believe
they will all be quite clearly understood.
CHAPTER
II
Which
begins to treat of the second part or cause of this night, which is faith.
Proves by two arguments how it is darker than the first and than the third.
WE
now go on to treat of the second part of this night, which is faith; this is
the wondrous means which, as we said, leads to the goal, which is God, Who, as
we said,[213] is also to the soul,
naturally, the third cause or part of this night. For faith, which is the
means,[214] is compared with midnight.
And thus we may say that it is darker for the soul either than the first part
or, in a way, than the third; for the first part, which is that of sense, is
compared to the beginning of night, or the time when sensible objects can no
longer be seen, and thus it is not so far removed from light as is midnight.
The third part, which is the period preceding the dawn, is quite close to the
light of day, and it, too, therefore, is not so dark as midnight; for it is now
close to the enlightenment and illumination of the light of day, which is
compared with God. For, although it is true, if we speak after a natural manner,
that God is as dark a night to the soul as is faith, still, when these three
parts of the night are over, which are naturally night to the soul, God begins
to illumine the soul by supernatural means with the ray of His Divine light;
which is the beginning of the perfect union that follows, when the third night
is past, and it can thus be said to be less dark.
2. It is
likewise darker than the first night, for this belongs to the lower part of
man, which is the sensual part, and, consequently, the more exterior; and this
second part, which is of faith, belongs to the higher part of man, which is the
rational part, and, in consequence, more interior and more obscure, since it
deprives it of the light of reason, or, to speak more clearly, blinds it;[215] and thus it is aptly
compared to midnight, which is the depth of night and the darkest part thereof.
3. We
have now to prove how this second part, which is faith, is night to the spirit,
even as the first part is night to sense. And we shall then also describe the
things that are contrary to it, and how the soul must prepare itself actively
to enter it. For, concerning the passive part, which is that which God works in
it, when He brings it into that night, we shall speak in its place, which I
intend shall be the third book.
CHAPTER
III
How
faith is dark night to the soul. This is proved with arguments and quotations
and figures from Scripture.
FAITH,
say the theologians, is a habit of the soul, certain and obscure. And the
reason for its being an obscure habit is that it makes us believe truths
revealed by God Himself, which transcend all natural light, and exceed all
human understanding, beyond all proportion. Hence it follows that, for the
soul, this excessive light of faith which is given to it is thick darkness, for
it overwhelms greater things and does away with small things, even as the light
of the sun overwhelms all other lights whatsoever, so that when it shines and
disables our visual faculty they appear not to be lights at all. So that it
blinds it and deprives it of the sight that has been given to it, inasmuch as
its light is great beyond all proportion and transcends the faculty of vision.
Even so the light of faith, by its excessive greatness, oppresses and disables
that of the understanding; for the latter, of its own power, extends only to
natural knowledge, although it has a faculty[216] for the supernatural,
whenever Our Lord is pleased to give it supernatural activity.
2.
Wherefore a man can know nothing by himself, save after a natural manner,[217] which is only that which he
attains by means of the senses. For this cause he must have the phantasms and
the forms of objects present in themselves and in their likenesses; otherwise
it cannot be, for, as philosophers say: Ab objecto et potentia paritur
notitia. That is: From the object that is present and from the faculty,
knowledge is born in the soul. Wherefore, if one should speak to a man of
things which he has never been able to understand, and whose likeness he has
never seen, he would have no more illumination from them whatever than if
naught had been said of them to him. I take an example. If one should say to a
man that on a certain island there is an animal which he has never seen, and
give him no idea of the likeness of that animal, that he may compare it with
others that he has seen, he will have no more knowledge of it, or idea of its
form, than he had before, however much is being said to him about it. And this
will be better understood by another and a more apt example. If one should
describe to a man that was born blind, and has never seen any colour, what is
meant by a white colour or by a yellow, he would understand it but
indifferently, however fully one might describe it to him; for, as he has never
seen such colours or anything like them by which he may judge them, only their
names would remain with him; for these he would be able to comprehend through
the ear, but not their forms or figures, since he has never seen them.
3. Even
so is faith with respect to the soul; it tells us of things which we have never
seen or understood, nor have we seen or understood aught that resembles them,
since there is naught that resembles them at all. And thus we have no light of
natural knowledge concerning them, since that which we are told of them bears
no relation to any sense of ours; we know it by the ear alone, believing that
which we are taught, bringing our natural light into subjection and treating it
as if it were not.[218] For, as Saint Paul says, Fides
ex auditu.[219] As though he were to say:
Faith is not knowledge which enters by any of the senses, but is only the
consent given by the soul to that which enters through the ear.
4. And
faith far transcends even that which is indicated by the examples given above.
For not only does it give no information and knowledge, but, as we have said,
it deprives us of all other information and knowledge, and blinds us to them,
so that they cannot judge it well. For other knowledge can be acquired by the
light of the understanding; but the knowledge that is of faith is acquired
without the illumination of the understanding, which is rejected for faith; and
in its own light, if that light be not darkened, it is lost. Wherefore Isaias
said: Si non credideritis, non intelligetis.[220] That is: If ye believe not,
ye shall not understand. It is clear, then, that faith is dark night for the
soul, and it is in this way that it gives it light; and the more the soul is
darkened, the greater is the light that comes to it. For it is by blinding that
it gives light, according to this saying of Isaias. For if ye believe not, ye
shall not (he says) have light.[221] And thus faith was
foreshadowed by that cloud which divided the children of Israel and the
Egyptians when the former were about to enter the Red Sea, whereof Scripture
says: Erat nubes tenebrosa, et illuminans noctem.[222] This is to say that that
cloud was full of darkness and gave light to the night.
5. A
wondrous thing it is that, though it was dark, it should give light to the
night. This was said to show that faith, which is a black and dark cloud to the
soul (and likewise is night, since in the presence of faith the soul is
deprived of its natural light and is blinded), can with its darkness give light
and illumination to the darkness of the soul, for it was fitting that the
disciples should thus be like the master. For man, who is in darkness, could
not fittingly be enlightened save by other darkness, even as David teaches us,
saying: Dies diei eructat verbum et nox nocti indicat scientiam.[223] Which signifies: Day unto
day uttereth and aboundeth in speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge.
Which, to speak more clearly, signifies: The day, which is God in bliss, where
it is day to the blessed angels and souls who are now day, communicates and
reveals to them the Word, which is His Son, that they may know Him and enjoy
Him. And the night, which is faith in the Church Militant, where it is still
night, shows knowledge is night to the Church, and consequently to every soul,
which knowledge is night to it, since it is without clear beatific wisdom; and,
in the presence of faith, it is blind as to its natural light.
6. So
that which is to be inferred from this that faith, because it is dark night,
gives light to the soul, which is in darkness, that there may come to be
fulfilled that which David likewise says to this purpose, in these works: Et
nox illuminatio mea in deliciis meis.[224] Which signifies: the night
will be illumination in my delights. Which is as much as to say: In the
delights of my pure contemplation and union with God, the night of faith shall
be my guide. Wherein he gives it clearly to be understood that the soul must be
in darkness in order to have light for this road.
CHAPTER
IV
Treats
in general of how the soul likewise must be in darkness, in so far as this
rests with itself, to the end that it may be effectively guided by faith to the
highest contemplation.
IT
is now, I think, becoming clear how faith is dark night to the soul, and how
the soul likewise must be dark, or in darkness as to its own light so that it
may allow itself to be guided by faith to this high goal of union. But, in
order that the soul may be able to do this, it will now be well to continue
describing, in somewhat greater detail, this darkness which it must have, in
order that it may enter into this abyss of faith. And thus in this chapter I
shall speak of it in a general way; and hereafter, with the Divine favour, I
shall continue to describe more minutely the way in which the soul is to
conduct itself that it may neither stray therein nor impede this guide.
2. I
say, then, that the soul, in order to be effectively guided to this state by faith,
must not only be in darkness with respect to that part that concerns the
creatures and temporal things, which is the sensual and the lower part (whereof
we have already treated), but that likewise it must be blinded and darkened
according to the part which has respect to God and to spiritual things, which
is the rational and higher part, whereof we are now treating. For, in order
that one may attain supernatural transformation, it is clear that he must be
plunged into darkness and carried far away from all contained in his nature
that is sensual and rational. For the word supernatural means that which soars
above the natural self; the natural self, therefore, remains beneath it. For,
although this transformation and union is something that cannot be comprehended
by human ability and sense, the soul must completely and voluntarily void
itself of all that can enter into it, whether from above or from below -- I
mean according to the affection and will -- so far as this rests with itself.
For who shall prevent God from doing that which He will in the soul that is
resigned, annihilated and detached? But the soul must be voided of all such
things as can enter its capacity, so that, however many supernatural
experiences it may have, it will ever remain as it were detached from them and
in darkness. It must be like to a blind man, leaning upon dark faith, taking it
for guide and light, and leaning upon none of the things that he understands,
experiences, feels and imagines. For all these are darkness, which will cause
him to stray; and faith is above all that he understands and experiences and
feels and imagines. And, if he be not blinded as to this, and remain not in
total darkness, he attains not to that which is greater -- namely, that which
is taught by faith.
3. A
blind man, if he be not quite blind, refuses to be led by a guide; and, since
he sees a little, he thinks it better to go in whatever happens to be the
direction which he can distinguish, because he sees none better; and thus he
can lead astray a guide who sees more than he, for after all it is for him to
say where he shall go rather than for the guide. In the same way a soul may
lean upon any knowledge of its own, or any feeling or experience of God, yet,
however great this may be, it is very little and far different from what God
is; and, in going along this road, a soul is easily led astray, or brought to a
standstill, because it will not remain in faith like one that is blind, and
faith is its true guide.
4. It is
this that was meant by Saint Paul when he said: Accedentem ad Deum oportet
credere quod est.[225] Which signifies: He that
would journey towards union with God must needs believe in His Being. As though
he had said: He that would attain to being joined in a union with God must not
walk by understanding, neither lean upon experience or feeling or imagination,
but he must believe in His being, which is not perceptible to the
understanding, neither to the desire nor to the imagination nor to any other
sense, neither can it be known in this life at all. Yea, in this life, the
highest thing that can be felt and experienced concerning God is infinitely
remote from God and from the pure possession of Him. Isaias and Saint Paul say:
Nec oculus vidit, nec auris audivit, nec in cor hominis ascendit, qua
praeparavit Deus iis, qui diligunt illum.[226] Which signifies: That which
God hath prepared for them that love Him neither eye hath seen, nor ear heard,
neither hath it entered into the heart or thought of man. So, however much the
soul aspires to be perfectly united through grace in this life with that to
which it will be united through glory in the next (which, as Saint Paul here
says, eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart
of man in the flesh), it is clear that, in order perfectly to attain to union
in this life through grace and through love, a soul must be in darkness with
respect to all that can enter through the eye, and to all that can be received
through the ear, and can be imagined with the fancy, and understood with the
heart, which here signifies the soul. And thus a soul is greatly impeded from
reaching this high estate of union with God when it clings to any understanding
or feeling or imagination or appearance or will or manner of its own, or to any
other act or to anything of its own, and cannot detach and strip itself of all
these. For, as we say, the goal which it seeks lies beyond all this, yea,
beyond even the highest thing that can be known or experienced; and thus a soul
must pass beyond everything to unknowing.
5.
Wherefore, upon this road, to enter upon the road is to leave the road; or, to
express it better, it is to pass on to the goal and to leave one's own way,[227] and to enter upon that
which has no way, which is God. For the soul that attains to this state has no
longer any ways or methods, still less is it attached to ways and methods, or
is capable of being attached to them. I mean ways of understanding, or of
perception, or of feeling. Nevertheless it has within itself all ways, after
the way of one that possesses nothing, yet possesses all things.[228] For, if it have courage to
pass beyond its natural limitations, both interiorly and exteriorly, it enters
within the limits of the supernatural, which has no way, yet in substance has
all ways. Hence for the soul to arrive at these limits is for it to leave these
limits, in each case going forth out of itself a great way, from this lowly
state to that which is high above all others.
6.
Wherefore, passing beyond all that can be known and understood, both
spiritually and naturally, the soul will desire with all desire to come to that
which in this life cannot be known, neither can enter into its heart. And,
leaving behind all that it experiences and feels, both temporally and
spiritually, and all that it is able to experience and feel in this life, it
will desire with all desire to come to that which surpasses all feeling and
experience. And, in order to be free and void to that end, it must in no wise
lay hold upon that which it receives, either spiritually or sensually, within
itself[229] (as we shall explain
presently, when we treat this in detail), considering it all to be of much less
account. For the more emphasis the soul lays upon what it understands,
experiences and imagines, and the more it esteems this, whether it be spiritual
or no, the more it loses of the supreme good, and the more it is hindered from
attaining thereto. And the less it thinks of what it may have, however much
this be, in comparison with the highest good, the more it dwells upon that good
and esteems it, and, consequently, the more nearly it approaches it. And in
this wise the soul approaches a great way towards union, in darkness, by means
of faith, which is likewise dark, and in this wise faith wondrously illumines
it. It is certain that, if the soul should desire to see, it would be in
darkness much more quickly, with respect to God, than would one who opens his
eyes to look upon the great brightness of the sun.
7.
Wherefore, by blinding itself in its faculties upon this road, the soul will
see the light, even as the Saviour says in the Gospel, in this wise: In
judicium veni in hunc mundum: ut qui non vident, videant, et qui vident, caeci
fiant.[230] That is: I am come into
this world for judgment; that they which see not may see, and that they which
see may become blind. This, as it will be supposed, is to be understood of this
spiritual road, where the soul that is in darkness, and is blinded as regards
all its natural and proper lights, will see supernaturally; and the soul that
would depend upon any light of its own will become the blinder and will halt
upon the road to union.
8. And,
that we may proceed with less confusion, I think it will be necessary to
describe, in the following chapter, the nature of this that we call union of
the soul with God; for, when this is understood, that which we shall say
hereafter will become much clearer. And so I think the treatment of this union
comes well at this point, as in its proper place. For, although the thread of
that which we are expounding is interrupted thereby, this is not done without a
reason, since it serves to illustrate in this place the very thing that is
being described. The chapter which follows, then, will be a parenthetical one,
placed, as it were, between the two terms of an enthymeme, since we shall
afterwards have to treat in detail of the three faculties of the soul, with
respect to the three logical virtues, in relation to this second night.
CHAPTER
V
Wherein
is described what is meant by union of the soul with God. A comparison is
given.[231]
FROM
what has been said above it becomes clear to some extent what we mean by union
of the soul with God; what we now say about it, therefore, will be the better
understood. It is not my intention here to treat of the divisions of this
union, nor of its parts, for I should never end if I were to begin now to
explain what is the nature of union of the understanding, and what is that of
union according to the will, and likewise according to the memory; and likewise
what is transitory and what permanent in the union of the said faculties; and
then what is meant by total union, transitory and permanent, with regard to the
said faculties all together. All this we shall treat gradually in our discourse
-- speaking first of one and then of another. But here this is not to the point
in order to describe what we have to say concerning them; it will be explained
much more fittingly in its place, when we shall again be treating the same
matter, and shall have a striking illustration to add to the present
explanation, so that everything will then be considered and explained and we
shall judge of it better.
2. Here
I treat only of this permanent and total union according to the substance of
the soul and its faculties with respect to the obscure habit of union: for with
respect to the act, we shall explain later, with the Divine favour, how there
can be no permanent union in the faculties, in this life, but a transitory
union only.
3. In
order, then, to understand what is meant by this union whereof we are treating,
it must be known that God dwells and is present substantially in every soul,
even in that of the greatest sinner in the world. And this kind of union is
ever wrought between God and all the creatures, for in it He is preserving
their being: if union of this kind were to fail them, they would at once become
annihilated and would cease to be. And so, when we speak of union of the soul
with God, we speak not of this substantial union which is continually being
wrought, but of the union and transformation of the soul with God, which is not
being wrought continually, but only when there is produced that likeness that
comes from love; we shall therefore term this the union of likeness, even as
that other union is called substantial or essential. The former is natural, the
latter supernatural. And the latter comes to pass when the two wills -- namely
that of the soul and that of God -- are conformed together in one, and there is
naught in the one that repugnant to the other. And thus, when the soul rids
itself totally of that which is repugnant to the Divine will and conforms not
with it, it is transformed in God through love.
4. This
is to be understood of that which is repugnant, not only in action, but
likewise in habit, so that not only must the voluntary acts of imperfection
cease, but the habits of any such imperfections must be annihilated. And since
no creature whatsoever, and none of its actions or abilities, can conform or
can attain to that which is God, therefore must the soul be stripped of all
things created, and of its own actions and abilities -- namely, of its
understanding, perception and feeling -- so that, when all that is unlike God
and unconformed to Him is cast out, the soul may receive the likeness of God;
and nothing will then remain in it that is not the will of God and it will thus
be transformed in God. Wherefore, although it is true that, as we have said,
God is ever in the soul, giving it, and through His presence conserving within
it, its natural being, yet He does not always communicate supernatural being to
it. For this is communicated only by love and grace, which not all souls
possess; and all those that possess it have it not in the same degree; for some
have attained more degrees of love and others fewer. Wherefore God communicates
Himself most to that soul that has progressed farthest in love; namely, that
has its will in closest conformity with the will of God. And the soul that has
attained complete conformity and likeness of will is totally united and
transformed in God supernaturally. Wherefore, as has already been explained,
the more completely a soul is wrapped up in[232] the creatures and in its
own abilities, by habit and affection, the less preparation it has for such
union; for it gives not God a complete opportunity to transform it
supernaturally. The soul, then, needs only to strip itself of these natural
dissimilarities and contrarieties, so that God, Who is communicating Himself
naturally to it, according to the course of nature, may communicate Himself to
it supernaturally, by means of grace.
5. And
it is this that Saint John desired to explain when he said: Qui non ex
sanguinibus, neque ex voluntate carnis, neque ex voluntate viri, sed ex Deo
nati sunt.[233] As though he had said: He
gave power to be sons of God -- that is, to be transformed in God -- only to
those who are born, not of blood -- that is, not of natural constitution and
temperament -- neither of the will of the flesh -- that is, of the free will of
natural capacity and ability -- still less of the will of man -- wherein is
included every way and manner of judging and comprehending with the
understanding. He gave power to none of these to become sons of God, but only
to those that are born of God -- that is, to those who, being born again
through grace, and dying first of all to everything that is of the old man, are
raised above themselves to the supernatural, and receive from God this rebirth
and adoption, which transcends all that can be imagined. For, as Saint John
himself says elsewhere: Nisi quis renatus fuerit ex aqua, et Spiritu Sancto,
non potest videre regnum Dei.[234] This signifies: He that is
not born again in the Holy Spirit will not be able to see this kingdom of God,
which is the state of perfection; and to be born again in the Holy Spirit in
this life is to have a soul most like to God in purity, having in itself no
admixture of imperfection, so that pure transformation can be wrought in it
through participation of union, albeit not essentially.
6. In
order that both these things may be the better understood, let us make a
comparison. A ray of sunlight is striking a window. If the window is in any way
stained or misty, the sun's ray will be unable to illumine it and transform it
into its own light, totally, as it would if it were clean of all these things,
and pure; but it will illumine it to a lesser degree, in proportion as it is
less free from those mists and stains; and will do so to a greater degree, in
proportion as it is cleaner from them, and this will not be because of the sun's
ray, but because of itself; so much so that, if it be wholly pure and clean,
the ray of sunlight will transform it and illumine it in such wise that it will
itself seem to be a ray and will give the same light as the ray. Although in
reality the window has a nature distinct from that of the ray itself, however
much it may resemble it, yet we may say that that window is a ray of the sun or
is light by participation. And the soul is like this window, whereupon is ever
beating (or, to express it better, wherein is ever dwelling) this Divine light
of the Being of God according to nature, which we have described.
7. In
thus allowing God to work in it, the soul (having rid itself of every mist and
stain of the creatures, which consists in having its will perfectly united with
that of God, for to love is to labour to detach and strip itself for God's sake
of all that is not God) is at once illumined and transformed in God, and God
communicates to it His supernatural Being, in such wise that it appears to be God
Himself, and has all that God Himself has. And this union comes to pass when
God grants the soul this supernatural favour, that all the things of God and
the soul are one in participant transformation; and the soul seems to be God
rather than a soul, and is indeed God by participation; although it is true
that its natural being, though thus transformed, is as distinct from the Being
of God as it was before, even as the window has likewise a nature distinct from
that of the ray, though the ray gives it brightness.
8. This
makes it clearer that the preparation of the soul for this union, as we said,
is not that it should understand or perceive or feel or imagine anything,
concerning either God or aught else, but that it should have purity and love --
that is, perfect resignation and detachment from everything for God's sake
alone; and, as there can be no perfect transformation if there be not perfect
purity, and as the enlightenment, illumination and union of the soul with God
will be according to the proportion of its purity, in greater or in less
degree; yet the soul will not be perfect, as I say, if it be not wholly and
perfectly[235] bright and clean.
9. This
will likewise be understood by the following comparison. A picture is truly
perfect, with many and most sublime beauties and delicate and subtle
illuminations, and some of its beauties are so fine and subtle that they cannot
be completely realized, because of their delicacy and excellence. Fewer
beauties and less delicacy will be seen in this picture by one whose vision is
less clear and refined; and he whose vision is somewhat more refined will be
able to see in it more beauties and perfections; and, if another person has a
vision still more refined, he will see still more perfection; and, finally, he
who has the clearest and purest faculties will see the most beauties and
perfections of all; for there is so much to see in the picture that, however
far one may attain, there will ever remain higher degrees of attainment.
10. After
the same manner we may describe the condition of the soul with relation to God
in this enlightenment or transformation. For, although it is true that a soul,
according to its greater or lesser capacity, may have attained to union, yet
not all do so in an equal degree, for this depends upon what the Lord is
pleased to grant to each one. It is in this way that souls see God in Heaven;
some more, some less; but all see Him, and all are content, for their capacity
is satisfied.
11.
Wherefore, although in this life here below we find certain souls enjoying
equal peace and tranquillity in the state of perfection, and each one of them
satisfied, yet some of them may be many degrees higher than others. All,
however, will be equally satisfied, because the capacity of each one is
satisfied. But the soul that attains not to such a measure of purity as is in
conformity with its capacity never attains true peace and satisfaction, since
it has not attained to the possession of that detachment and emptiness in its
faculties which is required for simple union.
CHAPTER
VI
Wherein
is described how it is the three theological virtues that perfect the three
faculties of the soul, and how the said virtues produce emptiness and darkness
within them.
HAVING
now to endeavour to show how[236] the three faculties of the
soul -- understanding, memory and will -- are brought into this spiritual
night, which is the means to Divine union, it is necessary first of all to explain
in this chapter how the three theological virtues -- faith, hope and charity --
which have respect to the three faculties aforesaid as their proper
supernatural objects, and by means whereof the soul is united with God
according to its faculties, produce the same emptiness and darkness, each one
in its own faculty. Faith, in the understanding; hope, in the memory; and
charity, in the will. And afterwards we shall go on to describe how the
understanding is perfected in the darkness of faith; and the memory in the
emptiness of hope; and likewise how the will must be buried by withdrawing and
detaching every affection so that the soul may journey to God. This done, it
will be clearly seen how necessary it is for the soul, if it is to walk
securely on this spiritual road, to travel through this dark night, leaning
upon these three virtues, which empty it of all things and make it dark with
respect to them. For, as we have said, the soul is not united with God in this
life through understanding, nor through enjoyment, nor through the imagination,
nor through any sense whatsoever; but only through faith, according to the
understanding; and through hope, according to the memory; and through love,
according to the will.
2. These
three virtues, as we have said, all cause emptiness in the faculties: faith, in
the understanding, causes an emptiness and darkness with respect to
understanding; hope, in the memory, causes emptiness of all possessions; and
charity causes emptiness in the will and detachment from all affection and from
rejoicing in all that is not God. For, as we see, faith tells us what cannot be
understood with the understanding. Wherefore Saint Paul spoke of it ad
Hebraeos after this manner: Fides est sperandarum substantia rerum,
argumentum non apparentium.[237] This we interpret as
meaning that faith is the substance of things hoped for; and, although the
understanding may be firmly and certainly consenting to them, they are not
things that are revealed to the understanding, since, if they were revealed to
it, there would be no faith. So faith, although it brings certainty to the
understanding, brings it not clearness, but obscurity.
3. Then,
as to hope, there is no doubt but that it renders the memory empty and dark
with respect both to things below and to things above. For hope always relates
to that which is not possessed; for, if it were possessed, there would be no
more hope. Wherefore Saint Paul says ad Romanos: Spes, quae videtur,
non est spes: nam quod videt quis, quid sperat?[238] That is to say: Hope that
is seen is not hope; for what a man seeth -- that is, what a man possesseth --
how doth he hope for it? This virtue, then, also produces emptiness, for it has
to do with that which is not possessed and not with that which is possessed.
4.
Similarity, charity causes emptiness in the will with respect to all things,
since it obliges us to love God above them all; which cannot be unless we
withdraw our affection from them in order to set it wholly upon God. Wherefore
Christ says, through Saint Luke: Qui non renuntiat omnibus quae possidet,
non potest meus esse discipulus.[239] Which signifies: He that
renounces not all that he possesses with the will cannot be My disciple. And
thus all these three virtues set the soul in obscurity and emptiness with
respect to all things.
5. And
here we must consider that parable which our Redeemer related in the eleventh
chapter of Saint Luke, wherein He said that a friend had to go out at midnight
in order to ask his friend for three loaves;[240] the which loaves signify
these three virtues. And he said that he asked for them at midnight in order to
signify that the soul that is in darkness as to all things must acquire these
three virtues according to its faculties and must perfect itself in them in
this night. In the sixth chapter of Isaias we read that the two seraphim whom
this Prophet saw on either side of God had each six wings; with two they
covered their feet, which signified the blinding and quenching of the
affections of the will with respect to all things for the sake of God; and with
two they covered their face, which signified the darkness of the understanding
in the presence of God; and with the other two they flew.[241] This is to signify the
flight of hope to the things that are not possessed, when it is raised above
all that it can possess, whether below or above, apart from God.
6. To
these three virtues, then, we have to lead the three faculties of the soul,
informing each faculty by each one of them, and stripping it and setting it in
darkness concerning all things save only these three virtues. And this is the
spiritual night which just now we called active; for the soul does that which
in it lies in order to enter therein. And even as, in the night of sense, we
described a method of voiding the faculties of sense of their sensible objects,
with regard to the desire, so that the soul might go forth from the beginning
of its course to the mean,[242] which is faith; even so, in
this spiritual night, with the favour of God, we shall describe a method
whereby the spiritual faculties are voided and purified of all that is not God,
and are set in darkness concerning these three virtues, which, as we have said,
are the means and preparation for the union of the soul with God.
7. In
this method is found all security against the crafts of the devil and against
the efficacy of self-love and its ramifications, which is wont most subtly to
deceive and hinder spiritual persons on their road, when they know not how to
become detached and to govern themselves according to these three virtues; and
thus they are never able to reach the substance and purity of spiritual good,
nor do they journey by so straight and short a road as they might.
8. And
it must be noted that I am now speaking particularly to those who have begun to
enter the state of contemplation, because as far as this concerns beginners it
must be described somewhat more amply, as we shall note in the second book, God
willing, when we treat of the properties of these beginners.
CHAPTER
VII
Wherein
is described how strait is the way that leads to eternal life and how
completely detached and disencumbered must be those that will walk in it. We
begin to speak of the detachment of the understanding.
WE
have now to describe the detachment and purity of the three faculties of the
soul and for this are necessary a far greater knowledge and spirituality than
mine, in order to make clear to spiritual persons how strait is this road which,
said Our Saviour, leads to life; so that, persuaded of this, they may not
marvel at the emptiness and detachment to which, in this night, we have to
abandon the faculties of the soul.
2. To
this end must be carefully noted the words which Our Saviour used, in the
seventh chapter of Saint Matthew, concerning this road, as follows: Quam
angusta porta, et arcta via est, quae ducit ad vitam, et pauci sunt, qui
inveniunt eam.[243] This signifies: How strait
is the gate and how narrow the way that leadeth unto life, and few there are
that find it! In this passage we must carefully note the emphasis and
insistence which are contained in that word Quam. For it is as if He had
said: In truth the way is very strait, more so than you think. And likewise it
is to be noted that He says first that the gate is strait, to make it clear
that, in order for the soul to enter by this gate, which is Christ, and which
comes at the beginning of the road, the will must first be straitened and
detached in all things sensual and temporal, and God must be loved above them
all; which belongs to the night of sense, as we have said.
3. He
then says that the way is narrow -- that is to say, the way of perfection -- in
order to make it clear that, to travel upon the way of perfection, the soul has
not only to enter by the strait gate, emptying itself of things of sense, but
has also to straiten[244] itself, freeing and disencumbering
itself completely in that which pertains to the spirit. And thus we can apply
what He says of the strait gate to the sensual part of man; and what He says of
the narrow road we can understand of the spiritual or the rational part; and,
when He says 'Few there are that find it,' the reason of this must be noted,
which is that there are few who can enter, and desire to enter, into this
complete detachment and emptiness of spirit. For this path ascending the high
mountain of perfection leads upward, and is narrow, and therefore requires
travellers that have no burden weighing upon them with respect to lower things,
neither aught that embarrasses them with respect to higher things: and, as this
is a matter wherein we must seek after and attain to God alone, God alone must
be the object of our search and attainment.
4. Hence
it is clearly seen that the soul must not only be disencumbered from that which
belongs to the creatures, but likewise, as it travels, must be annihilated and
detached from all that belongs to its spirit. Wherefore Our Lord, instructing
us and leading us into this road, gave, in the eighth chapter of St. Mark, that
wonderful teaching of which I think it may almost be said that, the more
necessary it is for spiritual persons, the less it is practised by them. As
this teaching is so important and so much to our purpose, I shall reproduce it
here in full, and expound it according to its genuine, spiritual sense. He
says, then, thus: Si quis vult me sequi, deneget semetipsum: et tollat crucem
suam, et sequatur me. Qui enim voluerit animam suam salvam facere, perdet eam:
qui autem perdiderit animam suam propter me. . . salvam lacier eam.[245] This signifies: If any man
will follow My road, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me.
For he that will save his soul shall lose it; but he that loses it for My sake,
shall gain it.
5. Oh,
that one could show us how to understand, practise and experience what this
counsel is which our Saviour here gives us concerning self-denial,[246] so that spiritual persons
might see in how different a way they should conduct themselves upon this road
from that which many of them think proper! For they believe that any kind of
retirement and reformation of life suffices; and others are content with
practising the virtues and continuing in prayer and pursuing mortification; but
they attain not to detachment and poverty or selflessness[247] or spiritual purity (which
are all one), which the Lord here commends to us; for they prefer feeding and
clothing their natural selves with spiritual feelings and consolations, to
stripping themselves of all things, and denying themselves all things, for
God's sake. For they think that it suffices to deny themselves worldly things
without annihilating and purifying themselves of spiritual attachment.
Wherefore it comes to pass that, when there presents itself to them any of this
solid and perfect spirituality, consisting in the annihilation of all sweetness
in God, in aridity, distaste and trial, which is the true spiritual cross, and
the detachment of the spiritual poverty of Christ, they flee from it as from
death, and seek only sweetness and delectable communion with God. This is not
self-denial and detachment of spirit, but spiritual gluttony. Herein,
spiritually, they become enemies of the Cross of Christ; for true spirituality
seeks for God's sake that which is distasteful rather than that which is
delectable; and inclines itself rather to suffering than to consolation; and
desires to go without all blessings for God's sake rather than to possess them;
and to endure aridities and afflictions rather than to enjoy sweet
communications, knowing that this is to follow Christ and to deny oneself, and
that the other is perchance to seek oneself in God, which is clean contrary to
love. For to seek oneself in God is to seek the favours and refreshments of
God; but to seek God in oneself is not only to desire to be without both of
these for God's sake, but to be disposed to choose, for Christ's sake, all that
is most distasteful, whether in relation to God or to the world; and this is
love of God.
6. Oh,
that one could tell us how far Our Lord desires this self-denial to be carried!
It must certainly be like to death and annihilation, temporal, natural and
spiritual, in all things that the will esteems, wherein consists all
self-denial. And it is this that Our Lord meant when He said: 'He that will
save his life, the same shall lose it.' That is to say: He that will possess
anything or seek anything for himself, the same shall lose it; and he that
loses his soul for My sake, the same shall gain it. That is to say: He who for
Christ's sake renounces all that his will can desire and enjoy, and chooses
that which is most like to the Cross (which the Lord Himself, through Saint
John, describes as hating his soul[248]), the same shall gain it.
And this His Majesty taught to those two disciples who went and begged Him for
a place on His right hand and on His left; when, giving no countenance to their
request for such glory, He offered them the chalice which He had to drink, as a
thing more precious and more secure upon this earth than is fruition.[249]
7. This
chalice is death to the natural self, a death attained through the detachment
and annihilation of that self, in order that the soul may travel by this narrow
path, with respect to all its connections with sense, as we have said, and
according to the spirit, as we shall now say; that is, in its understanding and
in its enjoyment and in its feeling. And, as a result, not only has the soul
made its renunciation as regards both sense and spirit, but it is not hindered,
even by that which is spiritual, in taking the narrow way, on which there is
room only for self-denial (as the Saviour explains), and the Cross, which is
the staff wherewith one may reach ones goal, and whereby the road is greatly
lightened and made easy. Wherefore Our Lord said through Saint Matthew: 'My
yoke is easy and My burden is light'; which burden is the cross. For if a man
resolve to submit himself to carrying this cross -- that is to say, if he
resolve to desire in truth to meet trials and to bear them in all things for
God's sake, he will find in them all great relief and sweetness wherewith he
may travel upon this road, detached from all things and desiring nothing. Yet,
if he desire to possess anything -- whether it come from God or from any other
source -- with any feeling of attachment, he has not stripped and denied
himself in all things; and thus he will be unable to walk along this narrow
path or to climb upward by it.
8. I
would, then, that I could convince spiritual persons that this road to God
consists not in a multiplicity of meditations nor in ways or methods of such,
nor in consolations, although these things may in their own way be necessary to
beginners; but that it consists only in the one thing that is needful, which is
the ability to deny oneself truly, according to that which is without and to
that which is within, giving oneself up to suffering for Christ's sake, and to
total annihilation. For the soul that practises this suffering and annihilation
will achieve all that those other exercises can achieve, and that can be found
in them, and even more. And if a soul be found wanting in this exercise, which
is the sum and root of the virtues, all its other methods are so much beating
about the bush, and profiting not at all, although its meditations and
communications may be as lofty as those of the angels. For progress comes not
save through the imitation of Christ, Who is the Way, the Truth and the Life,
and no man comes to the Father but by Him, even as He Himself says through
Saint John.[250] And elsewhere He says: 'I
am the door; by Me if any man enter he shall be saved.'[251] Wherefore, as it seems to
me, any spirituality that would fain walk in sweetness and with ease, and flees
from the imitation of Christ, is worthless.
9. And,
as I have said that Christ is the Way, and that this Way is death to our
natural selves, in things both of sense and of spirit, I will now explain how
we are to die, following the example of Christ, for He is our example and
light.
10. In
the first place, it is certain that He died as to sense, spiritually, in His
life, besides dying naturally, at His death. For, as He said, He had not in His
life where to lay His head, and at His death this was even truer.
11. In
the second place, it is certain that, at the moment of His death, He was
likewise annihilated in His soul, and was deprived of any relief and
consolation, since His Father left Him in the most intense aridity, according
to the lower part of His nature. Wherefore He had perforce to cry out, saying:
'My God! My God! 'Why hast Thou forsaken Me?'[252] This was the greatest
desolation, with respect to sense, that He had suffered in His life. And thus
He wrought herein the greatest work that He had ever wrought, whether in
miracles or in mighty works, during the whole of His life, either upon earth or
in Heaven, which was the reconciliation and union of mankind, through grace,
with God. And this, as I say, was at the moment and the time when this Lord was
most completely annihilated in everything. Annihilated, that is to say, with
respect to human reputation; since, when men saw Him die, they mocked Him
rather than esteemed Him; and also with respect to nature, since His nature was
annihilated when He died; and further with respect to the spiritual consolation
and protection of the Father, since at that time He forsook Him, that He might
pay the whole of man's debt and unite him with God, being thus annihilated and
reduced as it were to nothing. Wherefore David says concerning Him: Ad
nihilum redactus sum, et nescivi.[253] This he said that the truly
spiritual man may understand the mystery of the gate and of the way of Christ,
and so become united with God, and may know that, the more completely he is
annihilated for God's sake, according to these two parts, the sensual and the
spiritual, the more completely is he united to God and the greater is the work
which he accomplishes. And when at last he is reduced to nothing, which will be
the greatest extreme of humility, spiritual union will be wrought between the
soul and God, which in this life is the greatest and the highest state
attainable. This consists not, then, in refreshment and in consolations and
spiritual feelings, but in a living death of the Cross, both as to sense and as
to spirit -- that is, both inwardly and outwardly.
12. I
will not pursue this subject farther, although I have no desire to finish
speaking of it, for I see that Christ is known very little by those who
consider themselves His friends: we see them seeking in Him their own pleasures
and consolations because of their great love for themselves, but not loving His
bitter trials and His death because of their great love for Him. I am speaking
now of those who consider themselves His friends; for such as live far away,
withdrawn from Him, men of great learning and influence, and all others who
live yonder, with the world, and are eager about their ambitions and their
prelacies, may be said not to know Christ; and their end, however good, will be
very bitter. Of such I make no mention in these lines; but mention will be made
of them on the Day of Judgment, for to them it was fitting to speak first this
word of God,[254] as to those whom God set up
as a target for it,[255] by reason of their learning
and their high position.
13. But
let us now address the understanding of the spiritual man, and particularly
that of the man to whom God has granted the favour of leading him into the
state of contemplation (for, as I have said, I am now speaking to these in
particular), and let us say how such a man must direct himself toward God in
faith, and purify himself from contrary things, constraining himself that he
may enter upon this narrow path of obscure contemplation.
CHAPTER
VIII
Which
describes in a general way how no creature and no knowledge that can be
comprehended by the understanding can serve as a proximate means of Divine
union with God.
BEFORE
we treat of the proper and fitting means of union with God, which is faith, it
behoves us to prove how no thing, created or imagined, can serve the
understanding as a proper means of union with God; and how all that the
understanding can attain serves it rather as an impediment than as such a
means, if it should desire to cling to it. And now, in this chapter, we shall
prove this in a general way, and afterwards we shall begin to speak in detail,
treating in turn of all kinds of knowledge that the understanding may receive
from any sense, whether inward or outward, and of the inconveniences and evils
that may result from all these kinds of inward and outward knowledge, when it
clings not, as it progresses, to the proper means, which is faith.
2. It
must be understood, then, that, according to a rule of philosophy, all means
must be proportioned to the end; that is to say, they must have some connection
and resemblance with the end, such as is enough and sufficient for the desired
end to be attained through them. I take an example. A man desires to reach a
city; he has of necessity to travel by the road, which is the means that brings
him to this same city and connects[256] him with it. Another
example. Fire is to be combined and united with wood; it is necessary that
heat, which is the means, shall first prepare the wood, by conveying to it so
many degrees of warmth that it will have great resemblance and proportion to
fire. Now if one would prepare the wood by any other than the proper means --
namely, with heat -- as, for example, with air or water or earth, it would be
impossible for the wood to be united with the fire, just as it would be to
reach the city without going by the road that leads to it. Wherefore, in order
that the understanding may be united with God in this life, so far as is
possible, it must of necessity employ that means that unites it with Him and
that bears the greatest resemblance to Him.
3. Here
it must be pointed out that, among all the creatures, the highest or the
lowest, there is none that comes near to God or bears any resemblance to His
Being. For, although it is true that all creatures have, as theologians say, a
certain relation to God, and bear a Divine impress (some more and others less,
according to the greater or lesser excellence of their nature), yet there is no
essential resemblance or connection between them and God -- on the contrary,
the distance between their being and His Divine Being is infinite. Wherefore it
is impossible for the understanding to attain to God by means of the creatures,
whether these be celestial or earthly, inasmuch as there is no proportion or
resemblance between them. Wherefore, when David speaks of the heavenly
creatures, he says: 'There is none among the gods like unto Thee, O Lord';[257] meaning by the gods the angels
and holy souls. And elsewhere: 'O God, Thy way is in the holy place. What God
is there so great as our God?'[258] As though he were to say:
The way of approach to Thee, O God, is a holy way -- that is, the purity of
faith. For what God can there be so great? That is to say: What angel will
there be so exalted in his being, and what saint so exalted in glory, as to be
a proportionate and sufficient road by which a man may come to Thee? And the
same David, speaking likewise of earthly and heavenly things both together,
says: 'The Lord is high and looketh on lowly things, and the high things He
knoweth afar off'[259] As though he had said:
Lofty in His own Being, He sees that the being of things here below is very low
in comparison with His lofty Being; and the lofty things, which are the
celestial creatures, He sees and knows to be very far from His Being. All the
creatures, then, cannot serve as a proportionate means to the understanding
whereby it may reach God.
4. Just
so all that the imagination can imagine and the understanding can receive and
understand in this life is not, nor can it be, a proximate means of union with
God. For, if we speak of natural things, since understanding can understand
naught save that which is contained within, and comes under the category of,
forms and imaginings of things that are received through the bodily senses, the
which things, we have said, cannot serve as means, it can make no use of
natural intelligence. And, if we speak of the supernatural (in so far as is
possible in this life of our ordinary faculties), the understanding in its
bodily prison has no preparation or capacity for receiving the clear knowledge
of God; for such knowledge belongs not to this state, and we must either die or
remain without receiving it. Wherefore Moses, when he entreated God for this
clear knowledge, was told by God that he would be unable to see Him, in these
words: 'No man shall see Me and remain alive.'[260] Wherefore Saint John says:
'No man hath seen God at any time,[261] neither aught that is like
to Him.' And Saint Paul says, with Isaias: 'Eye hath not seen Him, nor hath ear
heard Him, neither hath it entered into the heart of man.'[262] And it is for this reason
that, as is said in the Acts of the Apostles,[263] Moses, in the bush, durst
not consider for as long as God was present; for he knew that his understanding
could make no consideration that was fitting concerning God, corresponding to
the sense which he had of God's presence. And of Elias, our father, it is said
that he covered his face on the Mount in the presence of God[264] -- an action signifying the
blinding of his understanding, which he wrought there, daring not to lay so
base a hand upon that which was so high, and seeing clearly that whatsoever he
might consider or understand with any precision would be very far from God and
completely unlike Him.
5.
Wherefore no supernatural apprehension or knowledge in this mortal state can
serve as a proximate means to the high union of love with God. For all that can
be understood by the understanding, that can be tasted by the will, and that
can be invented by the imagination is most unlike to God and bears no
proportion to Him, as we have said. All this Isaias admirably explained in that
most noteworthy passage, where he says: 'To what thing have ye been able to
liken God? Or what image will ye make that is like to Him? Will the workman in
iron perchance be able to make a graven image? Or will he that works gold be
able to imitate Him[265] with gold, or the
silversmith with plates of silver?'[266] By the workman in iron is
signified the understanding, the office of which is to form intelligences and
strip them of the iron of species and images. By the workman in gold is
understood the will, which is able to receive the figure and the form of pleasure,
caused by the gold of love. By the silversmith, who is spoken of as being
unable to form[267] Him with plates of silver,
is understood the memory, with the imagination, whereof it may be said with
great propriety that its knowledge and the imaginings that it can invent[268] and make are like plates of
silver. And thus it is as though he had said: Neither the understanding with
its intelligence will be able to understand aught that is like Him, nor can the
will taste pleasure and sweetness that bears any resemblance to that which is
God, neither can the memory set in the imagination ideas and images that
represent Him. It is clear, then, that none of these kinds of knowledge can
lead the understanding direct to God; and that, in order to reach Him, a soul
must rather proceed by not understanding than by desiring to understand; and by
blinding itself and setting itself in darkness, rather than by opening its
eyes, in order the more nearly to approach the ray Divine.
6. And
thus it is that contemplation, whereby the understanding has the loftiest
knowledge of God, is called mystical theology, which signifies secret wisdom of
God; for it is secret even to the understanding that receives it. For that
reason Saint Dionysius calls it a ray of darkness. Of this the prophet Baruch
says: 'There is none that knoweth its way, nor any that can think of its
paths.'[269] It is clear, then, that the
understanding must be blind to all paths that are open to it in order that it
may be united with God. Aristotle says that, even as are the eyes of the bat
with regard to the sun, which is total darkness to it, even so is our
understanding to that which is greater light in God, which is total darkness to
us. And he says further that, the loftier and clearer are the things of God in
themselves, the more completely unknown and obscure are they to us. This
likewise the Apostle affirms, saying: 'The lofty things of God are the least
known unto men.'[270]
7. But
we should never end if we continued at this rate to quote authorities and
arguments to prove and make clear that among all created things, and things
that can be apprehended by the understanding, there is no ladder whereby the
understanding can attain to this high Lord. Rather it is necessary to know
that, if the understanding should seek to make use of all these things, or of
any of them, as a proximate means to such union, they would be not only a
hindrance, but even an occasion of numerous errors and delusions in the ascent
of this mount.
CHAPTER
IX
How
faith is the proximate and proportionate means to the understanding whereby the
soul may attain to the Divine union of love. This is proved by passages and
figures from Divine Scripture.
FROM
what has been said it is to be inferred that, in order for the understanding to
be prepared for this Divine union, it must be pure and void of all that
pertains to sense, and detached and freed from all that can clearly be
apprehended by the understanding, profoundly hushed and put to silence, and
leaning upon faith, which alone is the proximate and proportionate means
whereby the soul is united with God; for such is the likeness between itself
and God that there is no other difference, save that which exists between
seeing God and believing in Him. For, even as God is infinite, so faith sets
Him before us as infinite; and, as He is Three and One, it sets Him before us
as Three and One; and, as God is darkness to our understanding, even so does
faith likewise blind and dazzle our understanding. And thus, by this means
alone, God manifests Himself to the soul in Divine light, which passes all
understanding. And therefore, the greater is the faith of the soul, the more
closely is it united with God. It is this that Saint Paul meant in the passage
which we quoted above, where he says: 'He that will be united with God must
believe.'[271] That is, he must walk by
faith as he journeys to Him, the understanding being blind and in darkness,
walking in faith alone; for beneath this darkness the understanding is united
with God, and beneath it God is hidden, even as David said in these words: 'He
set darkness under His feet. And He rose upon the cherubim, and flew upon the
wings of the wind. And He made darkness, and the dark water, His hiding-place.'[272]
2. By
his saying that He set darkness beneath His feet, and that He took the darkness
for a hiding-place, and that His tabernacle round about Him was in the dark
water, is denoted the obscurity of the faith wherein He is concealed. And by
his saying that He rose upon the cherubim and flew upon the wings of the winds,
is understood His soaring above all understanding. For the cherubim denote
those who understand or contemplate. And the wings of the winds signify the
subtle and lofty ideas and conceptions of spirits, above all of which is His
Being, and to which none, by his own power, can attain.
3. This
we learn from an illustration in the Scriptures. When Solomon had completed the
building of the Temple, God came down in darkness and filled the Temple so that
the children of Israel could not see; whereupon Solomon spake and said: 'The
Lord hath promised that He will dwell in darkness'.[273] Likewise He appeared in darkness
to Moses on the Mount, where God was concealed. And whensoever God communicated
Himself intimately, He appeared in darkness, as may be seen in Job, where the
Scripture says that God spoke with him from the darkness of the air.[274] All these mentions of
darkness signify the obscurity of the faith wherein the Divinity is concealed,
when It communicates Itself to the soul; which will be ended when, as Saint
Paul says, that which is in part shall be ended,[275] which is this darkness of
faith, and that which is perfect shall come, which is the Divine light. Of this
we have a good illustration in the army of Gedeon, whereof it is said all the
soldiers had lamps in their hands, which they saw not, because they had them
concealed in the darkness of the pitchers; but, when these pitchers were
broken, the light was seen.[276] Just so does faith, which
is foreshadowed by those pitchers, contain within itself Divine light; which,
when it is ended and broken, at the ending and breaking of this mortal life,
will allow the glory and light of the Divinity, which was contained in it, to
appear.
4. It is
clear, then, that, if the soul in this life is to attain to union with God, and
commune directly with Him, it must unite itself with the darkness whereof
Solomon spake, wherein God had promised to dwell, and must draw near to the
darkness of the air wherein God was pleased to reveal His secrets to Job, and
must take in its hands, in darkness, the jars of Gedeon, that it may have in
its hands (that is, in the works of its will) the light, which is the union of
love, though it be in the darkness of faith, so that, when the pitchers of this
life are broken, which alone have kept from it the light of faith, it may see God
face to face in glory.
5. It
now remains to describe in detail all the types of knowledge and the
apprehensions which the understanding can receive; the hindrance and the harm
which it can receive upon this road of faith; and the way wherein the soul must
conduct itself so that, whether they proceed from the senses or from the
spirit, they may cause it, not harm, but profit.
CHAPTER
X
Wherein distinction is made between all
apprehensions and types of knowledge which can be comprehended by the understanding.
IN
order to treat in detail of the profit and the harm which may come to the soul,
with respect to this means to Divine union which we have described -- namely,
faith -- through the ideas and apprehensions of the understanding, it is
necessary here to make a distinction between all the apprehensions, whether
natural or supernatural, that the soul may receive, so that then, with regard
to each of them in order, we may direct the understanding with greater
clearness into the night and obscurity of faith. This will be done with all
possible brevity.
2. It
must be known, then, that the understanding can receive knowledge and
intelligence by two channels: the one natural and the other supernatural. By
the natural channel is meant all that the understanding can understand, whether
by means of the bodily senses or by its own power.[277] The supernatural channel is
all that is given to the understanding over and above its natural ability and
capacity.
3. Of
these kinds of supernatural knowledge, some are corporeal and some are
spiritual. The corporeal are two in number: some are received by means of the
outward bodily senses; others, by means of the inward bodily senses, wherein is
comprehended all that the imagination can comprehend, form and conceive.
4. The
spiritual supernatural knowledge is likewise of two kinds: that which is
distinct and special in its nature, and that which is confused, general and
dark. Of the distinct and special kind there are four manners of apprehension
which are communicated to the spirit without the aid of any bodily sense: these
are visions, revelations, locutions and spiritual feelings. The obscure and
general type of knowledge is of one kind alone, which is contemplation that is
given in faith. To this we have to lead the soul by bringing it thereto through
all these other means, beginning with the first and detaching it from them.
CHAPTER
XI
Of
the hindrance and harm that may be caused by apprehensions of the understanding
which proceed from that which is supernaturally represented to the outward
bodily senses; and how the soul is to conduct itself therein.
THE
first kinds of knowledge whereof we have spoken in the preceding chapter are
those that belong to the understanding and come through natural channels. Of these,
since we have treated them already in the first book, where we led the soul
into the night of sense, we shall here say not a word, for in that place we
gave suitable instruction to the soul concerning them. What we have to treat,
therefore, in the present chapter, will be solely those kinds of knowledge and
those apprehensions which belong to the understanding and come supernaturally,
by way of the outward bodily senses -- namely, by seeing, hearing, smelling,
tasting and touching. With respect to all these there may come, and there are
wont to come, to spiritual persons representations and objects of a
supernatural kind. With respect to sight, they are apt to picture figures and
forms of persons belonging to the life to come -- the forms of certain saints,
and representations of angels, good and evil, and certain lights and
brightnesses of an extraordinary kind. And with the ears they hear certain
extraordinary words, sometimes spoken by those figures that they see, sometimes
without seeing the person who speaks them. As to the sense of smell, they
sometimes perceive the sweetest perfumes with the senses, without knowing
whence they proceed. Likewise, as to taste, it comes to pass that they are
conscious of the sweetest savours, and, as to touch, they experience great
delight -- sometimes to such a degree that it is as though all the bones and
the marrow rejoice and sing[278] and are bathed in delight;
this is like that which we call spiritual unction, which in pure souls proceeds
from the spirit and flows into the very members. And this sensible sweetness is
a very ordinary thing with spiritual persons, for it comes to them from their
sensible affection and devotion,[279] to a greater or a lesser
degree, to each one after his own manner.
2. And
it must be known that, although all these things may happen to the bodily
senses in the way of God, we must never rely upon them or accept them, but must
always fly from them, without trying to ascertain whether they be good or evil;
for, the more completely exterior and corporeal they are, the less certainly
are they of God. For it is more proper and habitual to God to communicate
Himself to the spirit, wherein there is more security and profit for the soul,
than to sense, wherein there is ordinarily much danger and deception; for
bodily sense judges and makes its estimate of spiritual things by thinking that
they are as it feels them to be, whereas they are as different as is the body
from the soul and sensuality[280] from reason. For the bodily
sense is as ignorant of spiritual things as is a beast of rational things, and
even more so.
3. So he
that esteems such things errs greatly and exposes himself to great peril of
being deceived; in any case he will have within himself a complete impediment
to the attainment of spirituality. For, as we have said, between spiritual
things and all these bodily things there exists no kind of proportion whatever.
And thus it may always be supposed that such things as these are more likely to
be of the devil than of God; for the devil has more influence in that which is
exterior and corporeal, and can deceive a soul more easily thereby than by that
which is more interior and spiritual.
4. And
the more exterior are these corporeal forms and objects in themselves, the less
do they profit the interior and spiritual nature, because of the great distance
and the lack of proportion existing between the corporeal and the spiritual.
For, although there is communicated by their means a certain degree of
spirituality, as is always the case with things that come from God, much less
is communicated than would be the case if the same things were more interior
and spiritual. And thus they very easily become the means whereby error and
presumption and vanity grow in the soul; since, as they are so palpable and
material, they stir the senses greatly, and it appears to the judgment of the
soul that they are of greater importance because they are more readily felt.
Thus the soul goes after them, abandoning faith and thinking that the light
which it receives from them is the guide and means to its desired goal, which
is union with God. But the more attention it pays to such things, the farther
it strays from the true way and means, which are faith.
5. And,
besides all this, when the soul sees that such extraordinary things happen to
it, it is often visited, insidiously and secretly by a certain complacency, so
that it thinks itself to be of some importance in the eyes of God; which is
contrary to humility. The devil, too, knows how to insinuate into the soul a
secret satisfaction with itself, which at times becomes very evident; wherefore
he frequently represents these objects to the senses, setting before the eyes
figures of saints and most beauteous lights; and before the ears words very
much dissembled; and representing also sweetest perfumes, delicious tastes[281] and things delectable to
the touch; to the end that, by producing desires for such things, he may lead
the soul into much evil. These representations and feelings, therefore, must
always be rejected; for, even though some of them be of God, He is not offended
by their rejection, nor is the effect and fruit which He desires to produce in
the soul by means of them any the less surely received because the soul rejects
them and desires them not.
6. The
reason for this is that corporeal vision, or feeling in respect to any of the
other senses, or any other communication of the most interior kind, if it be of
God, produces its effect upon the spirit at the very moment when it appears or
is felt, without giving the soul time or opportunity to deliberate whether it
will accept or reject it. For, even as God gives these things supernaturally,
without effort on the part of the soul, and independently of its capacity, even
so likewise, without respect to its effort or capacity, God produces in it the
effect that He desires by means of such things; for this is a thing that is
wrought and brought to pass in the spirit passively; and thus its acceptance or
non-acceptance consists not in the acceptance or the rejection of it by the
will. It is as though fire were applied to a person's naked body: it would
matter little whether or no he wished to be burned; the fire would of necessity
accomplish its work. Just so is it with visions and representations that are
good: even though the soul desire it not, they work their effect upon it,
chiefly and especially in the soul, rather than in the body. And likewise those
that come from the devil (without the consent of the soul) cause it disturbance
or aridity or vanity or presumption in the spirit. Yet these are not so
effective to work evil as are those of God to work good; for those of the devil
can only set in action the first movements of the will,[282] and move it no farther,
unless the soul be consenting thereto; and such trouble continues not long
unless the soul's lack of courage and prudence be the occasion of its
continuance. But the visions that are of God penetrate the soul and move the
will to love, and produce their effect, which the soul cannot resist even
though it would, any more than the window can resist the sun's rays when they
strike
7. The
soul, then, must never presume to desire to receive them, even though, as I
say, they be of God; for, if it desire to receive them, there follow six inconveniences.
The
first is that faith grows gradually less; for things that are experienced by
the senses derogate from faith; since faith, as we have said, transcends every
sense. And thus the soul withdraws itself from the means of union with God when
it closes not its eyes to all these things of sense.
Secondly,
if they be not rejected, they are a hindrance to the spirit, for the soul rests
in them and its spirit soars not to the invisible. This was one of the reasons
why the Lord said to His disciples that it was needful for Him to go away that
the Holy Spirit might come; so, too, He forbade Mary Magdalene to touch His
feet, after His resurrection, that she might be grounded in faith.
Thirdly,
the soul becomes attached to these things and advances not to true resignation
and detachment of spirit.
Fourthly,
it begins to lose the effect of them and the inward spirituality which they
cause it, because it sets its eyes upon their sensual aspect, which is the least
important. And thus it receives not so fully the spirituality which they cause,
which is impressed and preserved more securely when all things of sense are
rejected, since these are very different from pure spirit.
Fifthly,
the soul begins to lose the favours of God, because it accepts them as though
they belonged to it and profits not by them as it should. And to accept them in
this way and not to profit by them is to seek after them; but God gives them
not that the soul may seek after them; nor should the soul take upon itself to
believe that they are of God.[283]
Sixthly,
a readiness to accept them opens the door to the devil that he may deceive the
soul by other things like to them, which he very well knows how to dissimulate
and disguise, so that they may appear to be good; for, as the Apostle says, he
can transform himself into an angel of light.[284] Of this we shall treat
hereafter, by the Divine favour, in our third book, in the chapter upon
spiritual gluttony.
8. It is
always well, then, that the soul should reject these things, and close its eyes
to them, whencesoever they come. For, unless it does so, it will prepare the
way for those things that come from the devil, and will give him such influence
that, not only will his visions come in place of God's, but his visions will
begin to increase, and those of God to cease, in such manner that the devil
will have all the power and God will have none. So it has happened to many
incautious and ignorant souls, who rely on these things to such an extent that
many of them have found it hard to return to God in purity of faith; and many
have been unable to return, so securely has the devil rooted himself in them;
for which reason it is well to resist and reject them all. For, by the
rejection of evil visions, the errors of the devil are avoided, and by the
rejection of good visions no hindrance is offered to faith and the spirit
harvests the fruit of them. And just as, when the soul allows them entrance,
God begins to withhold them because the soul is becoming attached to them and
is not profiting by them as it should, while the devil insinuates and increases
his own visions, where he finds occasion and cause for them; just so, when the
soul is resigned, or even averse to them, the devil begins to desist, since he
sees that he is working it no harm; and contrariwise God begins to increase and
magnify His favours in a soul that is so humble and detached, making it ruler
over[285] many things, even as He
made the servant who was faithful in small things.[286]
9. In
these favours, if the soul be faithful and humble,[287] the Lord will not cease
until He has raised it from one step to another, even to Divine union and
transformation. For Our Lord continues to prove the soul and to raise it ever
higher, so that He first gives it things that are very unpretentious and
exterior and in the order of sense, in conformity with the smallness of its
capacity; to the end that, when it behaves as it should, and receives these
first morsels with moderation for its strength and sustenance, He may grant it
further and better food. If, then, the soul conquer the devil upon the first
step, it will pass to the second; and if upon the second likewise, it will pass
to the third; and so onward, through all seven mansions,[288] which are the seven steps
of love, until the Spouse shall bring it to the cellar of wine of His perfect
charity.
10.
Happy the soul that can fight against that beast of the Apocalypse,[289] which has seven heads, set
over against these seven steps of love, and which makes war therewith against
each one, and strives therewith against the soul in each of these mansions,
wherein the soul is being exercised and is mounting step by step in the love of
God. And undoubtedly if it strive faithfully against each of these heads, and
gain the victory, it will deserve to pass from one step to another, and from
one mansion to another, even unto the last, leaving the beast vanquished after
destroying its seven heads, wherewith it made so furious a war upon it. So
furious is this war that Saint John says in that place[290] that it was given unto the
beast to make war against the saints and to be able to overcome them upon each
one of these steps of love, arraying against each one many weapons and
munitions of war. And it is therefore greatly to be lamented that many who
engage in this spiritual battle against the beast do not even destroy its first
head by denying themselves the sensual things of the world. And, though some
destroy and cut off this head, they destroy not the second head, which is that
of the visions of sense whereof we are speaking. But what is most to be
lamented is that some, having destroyed not only the first and the second but
even the third, which is that of the interior senses, pass out of the state of
meditation, and travel still farther onward, and are overcome by this spiritual
beast at the moment of their entering into purity of spirit, for he rises up
against them once more, and even his first head comes to life again, and the
last state of those souls is worse than the first, since, when they fall back,
the beast brings with him seven other spirits worse then himself.[291]
11. The
spiritual person, then, has to deny himself all the apprehensions, and the
temporal delights, that belong to the outward senses, if he will destroy the
first and the second head of this beast, and enter into the first chamber of
love, and the second, which is of living faith, desiring neither to lay hold
upon, nor to be embarrassed by, that which is given to the senses, since it is
this that derogates most from faith.
12. It
is clear, then, that these sensual apprehensions and visions cannot be a means
to union, since they bear no proportion to God; and this was one of the reasons
why Christ desired that the Magdalene and Saint Thomas should not touch Him.
And so the devil rejoices greatly when a soul desires to receive revelations,
and when he sees it inclined to them, for he has then a great occasion and
opportunity to insinuate errors and, in so far as he is able, to derogate from
faith; for, as I have said, he renders the soul that desires them very gross,
and at times even leads it into many temptations and unseemly ways.
13. I
have written at some length of these outward apprehensions in order to throw
and shed rather more light on the others, whereof we have to treat shortly.
There is so much to say on this part of my subject that I could go on and never
end. I believe, however, that I am summarizing it sufficiently by merely saying
that the soul must take care never to receive these apprehensions, save
occasionally on another person's advice, which should very rarely be given, and
even then it must have no desire for them. I think that on this part of my
subject what I have said is sufficient.
CHAPTER
XII
Which
treats of natural imaginary apprehensions. Describes their nature and proves
that they cannot be a proportionate means of attainment to union with God.
Shows the harm which results from inability to detach oneself from them.
BEFORE
we treat of the imaginary visions which are wont to occur supernaturally to the
interior sense, which is the imagination and the fancy, it is fitting here, so
that we may proceed in order, to treat of the natural apprehensions of this
same interior bodily sense, in order that we may proceed from the lesser to the
greater, and from the more exterior to the more interior, until we reach the most
interior[292] recollection wherein the
soul is united with God; this same order we have followed up to this point. For
we treated first of all the detachment of the exterior senses from the natural
apprehensions of objects, and, in consequence, from the natural power of the
desires -- this was contained in the first book, wherein we spoke of the night
of sense. We then began to detach these same senses from supernatural exterior
apprehensions (which, as we have just shown in the last chapter, affect the
exterior senses), in order to lead the soul into the night of the spirit.
2. In
this second book, the first thing that has now to be treated is the interior
bodily sense -- namely, the imagination and the fancy; this we must likewise
void of all the imaginary apprehensions and forms that may belong to it by
nature, and we must prove how impossible it is that the soul should attain to
union with God until its operation cease in them, since they cannot be the
proper and proximate means of this union.
3. It is
to be known, then, that the senses whereof we are here particularly speaking
are two interior bodily senses which are called imagination and fancy, which
subserve each other in due order. For the one sense reasons, as it were, by
imagining, and the other forms the imagination, or that which is imagined, by
making use of the fancy.[293] For our purpose the
discussion of the one is equivalent to that of the other, and, for this reason,
when we name them not both, it must be understood that we are speaking of
either, as we have here explained. All the things, then, that these senses can receive
and fashion are known as imaginations and fancies, which are forms that are
represented to these senses by bodily figures and images. This can happen in
two ways. The one way is supernatural, wherein representation can be made, and
is made, to these senses passively, without any effort of their own; these we
call imaginary visions, produced after a supernatural manner, and of these we
shall speak hereafter. The other way is natural, wherein, through the ability
of the soul, these things can be actively fashioned in it through its
operation, beneath forms, figures and images. And thus to these two faculties
belongs meditation, which is a discursive action wrought by means of images,
forms and figures that are fashioned and imagined by the said senses, as when
we imagine Christ crucified, or bound to the column, or at another of the
stations; or when we imagine God seated upon a throne with great majesty; or
when we consider and imagine glory to be like a most beauteous light, etc.; or
when we imagine all kinds of other things, whether Divine or human, that can
belong to the imagination. All these imaginings must be cast out from the Soul,
which will remain in darkness as far as this sense is concerned, that it may
attain to Divine union; for they can bear no proportion to proximate means of
union with God, any more than can the bodily imaginings, which serve as objects
to the five exterior senses.
4. The
reason of this is that the imagination cannot fashion or imagine anything
whatsoever beyond that which it has experienced through its exterior senses --
namely, that which it has seen with the eyes, or heard with the ears, etc. At
most it can only compose likenesses of those things that it has seen or heard
or felt, which are of no more consequence than those which have been received
by the senses aforementioned, nor are they even of as much consequence. For,
although a man imagines palaces of pearls and mountains of gold, because he has
seen gold and pearls, all this is in truth less than the essence of a little
gold or of a single pearl, although in the imagination it be greater in
quantity and in beauty. And since, as has already been said, no created things
can bear any proportion to the Being of God, it follows that nothing that is
imagined in their likeness can serve as proximate means to union with Him, but,
as we say, quite the contrary.
5.
Wherefore those that imagine God beneath any of these figures, or as a great
fire or brightness, or in any other such form, and think that anything like
this will be like to Him, are very far from approaching Him. For, although
these considerations and forms and manners of meditation are necessary to
beginners, in order that they may gradually feed and enkindle their souls with
love by means of sense, as we shall say hereafter, and although they thus serve
them as remote means to union with God, through which a soul has commonly to
pass in order to reach the goal and abode of spiritual repose, yet they must
merely pass through them, and not remain ever in them, for in such a manner
they would never reach their goal, which does not resemble these remote means,
neither has aught to do with them. The stairs of a staircase have naught to do
with the top of it and the abode to which it leads, yet are means to the
reaching of both; and if the climber left not behind the stairs below him until
there were no more to climb, but desired to remain upon any one of them, he
would never reach the top of them nor would he mount to the pleasant[294] and peaceful room which is
the goal. And just so the soul that is to attain in this life to the union of
that supreme repose and blessing, by means of all these stairs of meditations,
forms and ideas, must pass though them and have done with them, since they have
no resemblance and bear no proportion to the goal to which they lead, which is
God. Wherefore Saint Paul says in the Acts of the Apostles: Non debemus
aestimare, auro, vel argento, aut lapidi sculpturae artis, et cogitationis
hominis, Divinum esse similem.[295] Which signifies: We ought
not to think of the Godhead by likening Him to gold or to silver, neither to
stone that is formed by art, nor to aught that a man can fashion with his
imagination.
6.
Great, therefore, is the error of many spiritual persons who have practised
approaching God by means of images and forms and meditations, as befits
beginners. God would now lead them on to[296] further spiritual
blessings, which are interior and invisible, by taking from them the pleasure
and sweetness of discursive meditation; but they cannot, or dare not, or know
not how to detach themselves from those palpable methods to which they have
grown accustomed. They continually labour to retain them, desiring to proceed,
as before, by the way of consideration and meditation upon forms, for they
think that it must be so with them always. They labour greatly to this end and
find little sweetness or none; rather the aridity and weariness and disquiet of
their souls are increased and grow, in proportion as they labour for that
earlier sweetness. They cannot find this in that earlier manner, for the soul
no longer enjoys that food of sense, as we have said; it needs not this but
another food, which is more delicate, more interior and partaking less of the
nature of sense; it consists not in labouring with the imagination, but in
setting the soul at rest, and allowing it to remain in its quiet and repose,
which is more spiritual. For, the farther the soul progresses in spirituality,
the more it ceases from the operation of the faculties in particular acts,
since it becomes more and more occupied in one act that is general and pure;
and thus the faculties that were journeying to a place whither the soul has
arrived cease to work, even as the feet stop and cease to move when their
journey is over. For if all were motion, one would never arrive, and if all
were means, where or when would come the fruition of the end and goal?
7. It is
piteous, then, to see many a one who[297] though his soul would fain
tarry in this peace and rest of interior quiet, where it is filled with the
peace and refreshment of God, takes from it its tranquillity, and leads it away
to the most exterior things, and would make it return and retrace the ground it
has already traversed, to no purpose, and abandon the end and goal wherein it
is already reposing for the means which led it to that repose, which are
meditations. This comes not to pass without great reluctance and repugnance of
the soul, which would fain be in that peace that it understands not, as in its
proper place; even as one who has arrived, with great labour, and is now
resting, suffers pain if he is made to return to his labour. And, as such souls
know not the mystery of this new experience, the idea comes to them that they
are being idle and doing nothing; and thus they allow not themselves to be
quiet, but endeavor to meditate and reason. Hence they are filled with aridity
and affliction, because they seek to find sweetness where it is no longer to be
found; we may even say of them that the more they strive the less they profit, for,
the more they persist after this manner, the worse is the state wherein they
find themselves, because their soul is drawn farther away from spiritual peace;
and this is to leave the greater for the less, and to retrace the ground
already traversed, and to seek to do that which has been done.
8. To
such as these the advice must be given to learn to abide attentively and wait
lovingly upon God in that state of quiet, and to pay no heed either to
imagination or to its working; for here, as we say, the faculties are at rest,
and are working, not actively, but passively, by receiving that which God works
in them; and, if they work at times, it is not with violence or with carefully
elaborated meditation, but with sweetness of love, moved less by the ability of
the soul itself than by God, as will be explained hereafter. But let this now
suffice to show how fitting and necessary it is for those who aim at making
further progress to be able to detach themselves from all these methods and
manners and works of the imagination at the time and season when the profit of
the state which they have reached demands and requires it.
9. And,
that it may be understood how this is to be, and at what season, we shall give
in the chapter following certain signs which the spiritual person will see in
himself and whereby he may know at what time and season he may freely avail
himself of the goal mentioned above, and may cease from journeying by means of
meditation and the work of the imagination.
CHAPTER
XIII
Wherein
are set down the signs which the spiritual person will find in himself whereby
he may know at what season it behoves him to leave meditation and reasoning and
pass to the state of contemplation.
IN
order that there may be no confusion in this instruction it will be meet in
this chapter to explain at what time and season it behoves the spiritual person
to lay aside the task of discursive meditation as carried on through the
imaginations and forms and figures above mentioned, in order that he may lay
them aside neither sooner nor later than when the Spirit bids him; for,
although it is meet for him to lay them aside at the proper time in order that
he may journey to God and not be hindered by them, it is no less needful for
him not to lay aside the said imaginative meditation before the proper time
lest he should turn backward. For, although the apprehensions of these
faculties serve not as proximate means of union to the proficient, they serve
nevertheless as remote means to beginners in order to dispose and habituate the
spirit to spirituality by means of sense, and in order to void the sense, in
the meantime, of all the other low forms and images, temporal, worldly and
natural. We shall therefore speak here of certain signs and examples which the
spiritual person will find in himself, whereby he may know whether or not it
will be meet for him to lay them aside at this season.
2. The
first sign is his realization that he can no longer meditate or reason with his
imagination, neither can take pleasure therein as he was wont to do aforetime;
he rather finds aridity in that which aforetime was wont to captivate his
senses and to bring him sweetness. But, for as long as he finds sweetness in
meditation, and is able to reason, he should not abandon this, save when his
soul is led into the peace and quietness[298] which is described under
the third head.
3. The
second sign is a realization that he has no desire to fix his mediation or his
sense upon other particular objects, exterior or interior. I do not mean that
the imagination neither comes nor goes (for even at times of deep[299] recollection it is apt to
move freely), but that the soul has no pleasure in fixing it of set purpose
upon other objects.
4. The
third and surest sign is that the soul takes pleasure in being alone, and waits
with loving attentiveness upon God, without making any particular meditation,
in inward peace and quietness and rest, and without acts and exercises of the
faculties -- memory, understanding and will -- at least, without discursive
acts, that is, without passing from one thing to another; the soul is alone,
with an attentiveness and a knowledge, general and loving, as we said, but
without any particular understanding, and adverting not to that which it is
contemplating.
5. These
three signs, at least, the spiritual person must observe in himself, all
together, before he can venture safely to abandon the state of meditation and
sense,[300] and to enter that of
contemplation and spirit.
6. And
it suffices not for a man to have the first alone without the second, for it
might be that the reason for his being unable to imagine and meditate upon the
things of God, as he did aforetime, was distraction on his part and lack of
diligence; for the which cause he must observe in himself the second likewise,
which is the absence of inclination or desire to think upon other things; for,
when the inability to fix the imagination and sense upon the things of God
proceeds from distraction or lukewarmness, the soul then has the desire and
inclination to fix it upon other and different things, which lead it thence
altogether. Neither does it suffice that he should observe in himself the first
and second signs, if he observe not likewise, together with these, the third;
for, although he observe his inability to reason and think upon the things of
God, and likewise his distaste for thinking upon other and different things,
this might proceed from melancholy or from some other kind of humour in the
brain or the heart, which habitually produces a certain absorption and
suspension of the senses, causing the soul to think not at all, nor to desire
or be inclined to think, but rather to remain in that pleasant state of
reverie.[301] Against this must be set
the third sign, which is loving attentiveness and knowledge, in peace, etc., as
we have said.
7. It is
true, however, that, when this condition first begins, the soul is hardly aware
of this loving knowledge, and that for two reasons. First, this loving
knowledge is apt at the beginning to be very subtle and delicate, and almost
imperceptible to the senses. Secondly, when the soul has been accustomed to
that other exercise of meditation, which is wholly perceptible, it is unaware,
and hardly conscious, of this other new and imperceptible condition, which is
purely spiritual; especially when, not understanding it, the soul allows not
itself to rest in it, but strives after the former, which is more readily
perceptible; so that abundant though the loving interior peace may be, the soul
has no opportunity of experiencing and enjoying it. But the more accustomed the
soul grows to this, by allowing itself to rest, the more it will grow therein
and the more conscious it will become of that loving general knowledge of God,
in which it has greater enjoyment than in aught else, since this knowledge
causes it peace, rest, pleasure and delight without labour.
8. And,
to the end that what has been said may be the clearer, we shall give, in this
chapter following, the causes and reasons why the three signs aforementioned
appear to be necessary for the soul that is journeying to pure spirit.[302]
CHAPTER
XIV
Wherein
is proved the fitness of these signs, and the reason is given why that which
has been said in speaking of them is necessary to progress.
WITH
respect to the first sign whereof we are speaking -- that is to say, that the
spiritual person who would enter upon the spiritual road (which is that of
contemplation) must leave the way of imagination and of meditation through
sense when he takes no more pleasure therein and is unable to reason -- there
are two reasons why this should be done, which may almost be comprised in one.
The first is, that in one way the soul has received all the spiritual good
which it would be able to derive from the things of God by the path of
meditation and reasoning, the sign whereof is that it can no longer meditate or
reason as before, and finds no new sweetness or pleasure therein as it found
before, because up to that time it had not progressed as far as the
spirituality which was in store for it; for, as a rule, whensoever the soul
receives some spiritual blessing, it receives it with pleasure, at least in
spirit, in that means whereby it receives it and profits by it; otherwise it is
astonishing if it profits by it, or finds in the cause of it that help and that
sweetness which it finds when it receives it. For this is in agreement with a
saying of the philosophers, Quod sapit, nutrit. This is: That which is
palatable nourishes and fattens. Wherefore holy Job said: Numquid poterit
comedi insulsum, quod non est sale conditum?[303] Can that which is unsavory
perchance be eaten when it is not seasoned with salt? It is this cause that the
soul is unable to meditate or reason as before: the little pleasure which the
spirit finds therein and the little profit which it gains.
2. The
second reason is that the soul at this season has now both the substance and
the habit of the spirit of meditation. For it must be known that the end of
reasoning and meditation on the things of God is the gaining of some knowledge
and love of God, and each time that the soul gains this through meditation, it
is an act; and just as many acts, of whatever kind, end by forming a habit in
the soul, just so, many of these acts of loving knowledge which the soul has
been making one after another from time to time come through repetition to be
so continuous in it that they become habitual. This end God is wont also to
effect in many souls without the intervention of these acts (or at least
without many such acts having preceded it), by setting them at once in
contemplation. And thus that which aforetime the soul was gaining gradually
through its labour of meditation upon particular facts has now through
practice, as we have been saying, become converted and changed into a habit and
substance of loving knowledge, of a general kind, and not distinct or
particular as before. Wherefore, when it gives itself to prayer, the soul is
now like one to whom water has been brought, so that he drinks peacefully,
without labour, and is no longer forced to draw the water through the aqueducts
of past meditations and forms and figures[304] So that, as soon as the
soul comes before God, it makes an act of knowledge, confused, loving, passive
and tranquil, wherein it drinks of wisdom and love and delight.
3. And
it is for this cause that the soul feels great weariness and distaste, when,
although it is in this condition of tranquillity, men try to make it meditate
and labour in particular acts of knowledge. For it is like a child, which,
while receiving the milk that has been collected and brought together for it in
the breast, is taken from the breast and then forced to try to gain and collect
food by its own diligent squeezing and handling. Or it is like one who has
removed the rind from a fruit, and is tasting the substance of the fruit, when
he is forced to cease doing this and to try to begin removing the said rind,
which has been removed already. He finds no rind to remove, and yet he is
unable to enjoy the substance of the fruit which he already had in his hand;
herein he is like to one who leaves a prize[305] which he holds for another
which he holds not.
4. And
many act thus when they begin to enter this state; they think that the whole
business consists in a continual reasoning and learning to understand
particular things by means of images and forms, which are to the spirit as
rind. When they find not these in that substantial and loving quiet wherein
their soul desires to remain, and wherein it understands nothing clearly, they
think that they are going astray and wasting time, and they begin once more to
seek the rind of their imaginings and reasonings, but find it not, because it
has already been removed. And thus they neither enjoy the substance nor make
progress in meditation, and they become troubled by the thought that they are
turning backward and are losing themselves. They are indeed losing themselves,
though not in the way they think, for they are becoming lost to their own
senses and to their first manner of perception; and this means gain in that
spirituality which is being given them. The less they understand, however, the
farther they penetrate into the night of the spirit, whereof we are treating in
this book, through the which night they must pass in order to be united with
God, in a union that transcends all knowledge.
5. With
respect to the second sign, there is little to say, for it is clear that at
this season the soul cannot possibly take pleasure in other and different
objects of the imagination, which are of the world, since, as we have said, and
for the reasons already mentioned, it has no pleasure in those which are in
closest conformity with it -- namely, those of God. Only as has been noted
above, the imaginative faculty in this state of recollection is in the habit of
coming and going and varying of its own accord; but neither according to the
pleasure nor at the will of the soul, which is troubled thereby, because its
peace and joy are disturbed.
6. Nor
do I think it necessary to say anything here concerning the fitness and
necessity of the third sign whereby the soul may know if it is to leave the
meditation aforementioned, which is a knowledge of God or a general and loving
attentiveness to Him. For something has been said of this in treating of the
first sign, and we shall treat of it again hereafter, when we speak in its
proper place of this confused and general knowledge, which will come after our
description of all the particular apprehensions of the understanding. But we
will speak of one reason alone by which it may clearly be seen how, when the
contemplative has to turn aside from the way of meditation and reasoning, he
needs this general and loving attentiveness or knowledge of God. The reason is
that, if the soul at that time had not this knowledge of God or this
realization of His presence, the result would be that it would do nothing and
have nothing; for, having turned aside from meditation (by means whereof the soul
has been reasoning with its faculties of sense), and being still without
contemplation, which is the general knowledge whereof we are speaking, wherein
the soul makes use of its spiritual faculties[306] -- namely, memory,
understanding and will -- these being united in this knowledge which is then
wrought and received in them, the soul would of necessity be without any
exercise in the things of God, since the soul can neither work, nor can it
receive that which has been worked in it, save only by way of these two kinds
of faculty, that of sense and that of spirit. For, as we have said, by means of
the faculties of sense it can reason and search out and gain knowledge of
things and by means of the spiritual faculties it can have fruition of the
knowledge which it has already received in these faculties aforementioned,
though the faculties themselves take no part herein.
7. And
thus the difference between the operation of these two kinds of faculty in the
soul is like the difference between working and enjoying the fruit of work
which has been done; or like that between the labour of journeying and the rest
and quiet which comes from arrival at the goal; or, again, like that between
preparing a meal and partaking and tasting of it, when it has been both
prepared and masticated, without having any of the labour of cooking it, or it
is like the difference between receiving something and profiting by that which
has been received. Now if the soul be occupied neither with respect to the
operation of the faculties of sense, which is meditation and reasoning, nor
with respect to that which has already been received and effected in the
spiritual faculties, which is the contemplation and knowledge whereof we have spoken,
it will have no occupation, but will be wholly idle, and there would be no way
in which it could be said to be employed. This knowledge, then, is needful for
the abandonment of the way of meditation and reasoning.
8. But
here it must be made clear that this general knowledge whereof we are speaking
is at times so subtle and delicate, particularly when it is most pure and
simple and perfect, most spiritual and most interior, that, although the soul
be occupied therein, it can neither realize it nor perceive it. This is most
frequently the case when we can say that it is in itself most clear, perfect
and simple; and this comes to pass when it penetrates a soul that is unusually
pure and far withdrawn from other particular kinds of knowledge and intelligence,
which the understanding or the senses might fasten upon. Such a soul, since it
no longer has those things wherein the understanding and the senses have the
habit and custom of occupying themselves, is not conscious of them, inasmuch as
it has not its accustomed powers of sense. And it is for this reason that, when
this knowledge is purest and simplest and most perfect, the understanding is
least conscious of it and thinks of it as most obscure. And similarly, in
contrary wise, when it is in itself least pure and simple in the understanding,
it seems to the understanding to be clearest and of the greatest importance,
since it is clothed in, mingled with or involved in certain intelligible forms
which understanding or sense may seize upon.[307]
9. This
will be clearly understood by the following comparison. If we consider a ray of
sunlight entering through a window, we see that, the more the said ray is
charged with atoms and particles of matter, the more palpable, visible and
bright it appears to the eye of sense;[308] yet it is clear that the
ray is in itself least pure, clear, simple and perfect at that time, since it
is full of so many particles and atoms. And we see likewise that, when it is
purest and freest from those particles and atoms, the least palpable and the
darkest does it appear to the material eye; and the purer it is, the darker and
less apprehensible it appears to it. And if the ray were completely pure and
free from all these atoms and particles, even from the minutest specks of dust,
it would appear completely dark and invisible to the eye, since everything that
could be seen would be absent from it -- namely, the objects of sight. For the
eye would find no objects whereon to rest, since light is no proper object of
vision, but the means whereby that which is visible is seen; so that, if there
be no visible objects wherein the sun's ray or any light can be reflected,
nothing will be seen. Wherefore, if the ray of light entered by one window and
went out by another, without meeting anything that has material form, it would
not be seen at all; yet, notwithstanding, that ray of light would be purer and
clearer in itself than when it was more clearly seen and perceived through
being full of visible objects.
10. The
same thing happens in the realm of spiritual light with respect to the sight of
the soul, which is the understanding, and which this general and supernatural
knowledge and light whereof we are speaking strikes so purely and simply. So
completely is it detached and removed from all intelligible forms, which are
objects of the understanding, that it is neither perceived nor observed.
Rather, at times (that is, when it is purest), it becomes darkness, because it
withdraws the understanding from its accustomed lights, from forms and from
fancies, and then the darkness is more clearly felt and realized. But, when
this Divine light strikes the soul with less force, it neither perceives
darkness nor observes light, nor apprehends aught that it knows, from whatever
source; hence at times the soul remains as it were in a great forgetfulness, so
that it knows not where it has been or what it has done, nor is it aware of the
passage of time. Wherefore it may happen, and does happen, that many hours are
spent in this forgetfulness, and, when the soul returns to itself, it believes
that less than a moment has passed, or no time at all.
11. The
cause of this forgetfulness is the purity and simplicity of this knowledge
which occupies the soul and simplifies, purifies and cleanses it from all
apprehensions and forms of the senses and of the memory, through which it acted
when it was conscious of time,[309] and thus leaves it in
forgetfulness and without consciousness of time.[310] This prayer, therefore,
seems to the soul extremely brief, although, as we say, it may last for a long
period; for the soul has been united in pure intelligence, which belongs not to
time; and this is the brief prayer which is said to pierce the heavens, because
it is brief and because it belongs not to time.[311] And it pierces the heavens,
because the soul is united in heavenly intelligence; and when the soul awakens,
this knowledge leaves in it the effects which it created in it without its
being conscious of them, which effects are the lifting up of the spirit to the
heavenly intelligence, and its withdrawal and abstraction from all things and
forms and figures and memories thereof. It is this that David describes as
having happened to him when he returned to himself out of this same
forgetfulness, saying: Vigilavi, et factus sum sicut passer solitarius in
tecto.[312] Which signifies: I have
watched and I have become like the lonely bird[313] on the house-top. He uses
the word 'lonely' to indicate that he was withdrawn and abstracted from all
things. And by the house-top he means the elevation of the spirit on high; so
that the soul remains as though ignorant of all things, for it knows God only,
without knowing how. Wherefore the Bride declares in the Songs that among the
effects which that sleep and forgetfulness of hers produced was this unknowing.
She says that she came down to the garden, saying: Nescivi.[314] That is: I knew not whence.
Although, as we have said, the soul in this state of knowledge believes itself
to be doing nothing, and to be entirely unoccupied, because it is working
neither with the senses nor with the faculties, it should realize that it is
not wasting time. For, although the harmony of the faculties of the soul may
cease, its intelligence is as we have said. For this cause the Bride, who was
wise, answered this question herself in the Songs, saying: Ego dormio et cor
meum vigilat.[315] As though she were to say:
Although I sleep with respect to my natural self, ceasing to labour, my heart
waketh, being supernaturally lifted up in supernatural knowledge.[316]
12. But,
it must be realized, we are not to suppose that this knowledge necessarily
causes this forgetfulness when the soul is in the state that we are here
describing: this occurs only when God suspends in the soul the exercise of all
its faculties, both natural and spiritual, which happens very seldom, for this
knowledge does not always fill the soul entirely. It is sufficient for the
purpose, in the case which we are treating, that the understanding should be
withdrawn from all particular knowledge, whether temporal or spiritual, and
that the will should not desire to think with respect to either, as we have
said, for this is a sign that the soul is occupied. And it must be taken as an
indication that this is so when this knowledge is applied and communicated to
the understanding only, which sometimes happens when the soul is unable to
observe it. For, when it is communicated to the will also, which happens almost
invariably, the soul does not cease to understand in the very least degree, if
it will reflect hereon, that it is employed and occupied in this knowledge,
inasmuch as it is conscious of a sweetness of love therein, without particular
knowledge or understanding of that which it loves. It is for this reason that
this knowledge is described as general and loving; for, just as it is so in the
understanding, being communicated to it obscurely, even so is it in the will,
sweetness and love being communicated to it confusedly, so that it cannot have
a distinct knowledge of the object of its love.
13. Let
this suffice now to explain how meet it is that the soul should be occupied in
this knowledge, so that it may turn aside from the way of spiritual meditation,
and be sure that, although it seem to be doing nothing, it is well occupied, if
it discern within itself these signs. It will also be realized, from the
comparison which we have made, that if this light presents itself to the
understanding in a more comprehensible and palpable manner, as the sun's ray
presents itself to the eye when it is full of particles, the soul must not for
that reason consider it purer, brighter and more sublime. It is clear that, as
Aristotle and the theologians say, the higher and more sublime is the Divine
light, the darker is it to our understanding.
14. Of
this Divine knowledge there is much to say, concerning both itself and the
effects which it produces upon contemplatives. All this we reserve for its
proper place,[317] for, although we have
spoken of it here, there would be no reason for having done so at such length,
save our desire not to leave this doctrine rather more confused than it is
already, for I confess it is certainly very much so. Not only is it a matter
which is seldom treated in this way, either verbally or in writing, being in
itself so extraordinary and obscure, but my rude style and lack of knowledge
make it more so. Further, since I have misgivings as to my ability to explain
it, I believe I often write at too great length and go beyond the limits which
are necessary for that part of the doctrine which I am treating. Herein I
confess that I sometimes err purposely; for that which is not explicable by one
kind of reasoning will perhaps be better understood by another, or by others
yet; and I believe, too, that in this way I am shedding more light upon that
which is to be said hereafter.
15.
Wherefore it seems well to me also, before completing this part of my treatise,
to set down a reply to one question which may arise with respect to the
continuance of this knowledge, and this shall be briefly treated in the chapter
following.
CHAPTER
XV
Wherein
is explained how it is sometimes well for progressives who are beginning to
enter upon this general knowledge of contemplation to make use of natural
reasoning and the work of the natural faculties.
WITH
regard to that which has been said, there might be raised one question -- if
progressives (that is, those whom God is beginning to bring into this
supernatural knowledge of contemplation whereof we have spoken) must never
again, because of this that they are beginning to experience, return to the way
of meditation and reasoning and natural forms. To this the answer is that it is
not to be understood that such as are beginning to experience this loving
knowledge must, as a general rule, never again try to return to meditation;
for, when they are first making progress in proficiency, the habit of
contemplation is not yet so perfect that they can give themselves to the act
thereof whensoever they wish, nor, in the same way, have they reached a point
so far beyond meditation that they cannot occasionally meditate and reason in a
natural way, as they were wont, using the figures and the steps that they were
wont to use, and finding something new in them. Rather, in these early stages,
when, by means of the indications already given, they are able to see that the
soul is not occupied in that repose and knowledge, they will need to make use
of meditation until by means of it they come to acquire in some degree of
perfection the habit which we have described. This will happen when, as soon as
they seek to meditate, they experience this knowledge and peace, and find
themselves unable to meditate and no longer desirous of doing so, as we have
said. For until they reach this stage, which is that of the proficient in this
exercise, they use sometimes the one and sometimes the other, at different
times.
2. The
soul, then, will frequently find itself in this loving or peaceful state of
waiting upon God[318] without in any way
exercising its faculties -- that is, with respect to particular acts -- and
without working actively at all, but only receiving. In order to reach this
state, it will frequently need to make use of meditation, quietly and in
moderation; but, when once the soul is brought into this other state, it acts
not at all with its faculties, as we have already said. It would be truer to
say that understanding and sweetness work in it and are wrought within it, than
that the soul itself works at all, save only by waiting upon God and by loving
Him without desiring to feel or to see anything. Then God communicates Himself
to it passively, even as to one who has his eyes open, so that light is
communicated to him passively, without his doing more than keep them open. And
this reception of light which is infused supernaturally is passive
understanding. We say that the soul works not at all, not because it
understands not, but because it understands things without taxing its own
industry and receives only that which is given to it, as comes to pass in the
illuminations and enlightenments or inspirations of God.
3.
Although in this condition the will freely receives this general and confused
knowledge of God, it is needful, in order that it may receive this Divine light
more simply and abundantly, only that it should not try to interpose other
lights which are more palpable, whether forms or ideas or figures having to do
with any kind of meditation; for none of these things is similar to that pure
and serene light. So that if at this time the will desires to understand and
consider particular things, however spiritual they be, this would obstruct the
pure and simple general light of the spirit, by setting those clouds in the
way; even as a man might set something before his eyes which impeded his vision
and kept from him both the light and the sight of things in front of him.
4. Hence
it clearly follows that, when the soul has completely purified and voided
itself of all forms and images that can be apprehended, it will remain in this
pure and simple light, being transformed therein into a state of perfection.
For, though this light never fails in the soul, it is not infused into it
because of the creature forms and veils wherewith the soul is veiled and
embarrassed; but, if these impediments and these veils were wholly removed (as
will be said hereafter), the soul would then find itself in a condition of pure
detachment and poverty of spirit, and, being simple and pure, would be
transformed into simple and pure Wisdom, which is the Son of God. For the
enamoured soul finds that that which is natural has failed it, and it is then imbued
with that which is Divine, both naturally and supernaturally, so that there may
be no vacuum in its nature.
5. When
the spiritual person cannot meditate, let him learn to be still in God, fixing
his loving attention upon Him, in the calm of his understanding, although he
may think himself to be doing nothing. For thus, little by little and very
quickly, Divine calm and peace will be infused into his soul, together with a
wondrous and sublime knowledge of God, enfolded in Divine love. And let him not
meddle with forms, meditations and imaginings, or with any kind of reasoning,
lest his soul be disturbed, and brought out of its contentment and peace, which
can only result in its experiencing distaste and repugnance. And if, as we have
said, such a person has scruples that he is doing nothing, let him note that he
is doing no small thing by pacifying the soul and bringing it into calm and
peace, unaccompanied by any act or desire, for it is this that Our Lord asks of
us, through David, saying: Vacate, et videte quoniam ego sum Deus.[319] As though he had said:
Learn to be empty of all things (that is to say, inwardly and outwardly) and
you will see that I am God.
CHAPTER
XVI
Which
treats of the imaginary apprehensions that are supernaturally represented in
the fancy. Describing how they cannot serve the soul as a proximate means to
union with God.
NOW
that we have treated of the apprehensions which the soul can receive within
itself by natural means, and whereon the fancy and the imagination can work by
means of reflection, it will be suitable to treat here of the supernatural
apprehensions, which are called imaginary visions, which likewise belong to
these senses, since they come within the category of images, forms and figures,
exactly as do the natural apprehensions.
2. It
must be understood that beneath this term 'imaginary vision' we purpose to
include all things which can be represented to the imagination supernaturally by
means of any image, form, figure and species. For all the apprehensions and
species which, through all the five bodily senses, are represented to the soul,
and dwell within it, after a natural manner, may likewise occur in the soul
after a supernatural manner, and be represented to it without any assistance of
the outward senses. For this sense of fancy, together with memory, is, as it
were, an archive and storehouse of the understanding, wherein are received all
forms and images that can be understood; and thus the soul has them within
itself as it were in a mirror, having received them by means of the five
senses, or, as we say, supernaturally; and thus it presents them to the
understanding, whereupon the understanding considers them and judges them. And
not only so, but the soul can also prepare and imagine others like to those
with which it is acquainted.
3. It
must be understood, then, that, even as the five outward senses represent the
images and species of their objects to these inward senses, even so,
supernaturally, as we say, without using the outward senses, both God and the
devil can represent the same images and species, and much more beautiful and
perfect ones. Wherefore, beneath these images, God often represents many things
to the soul, and teaches it much wisdom; this is continually seen in the
Scriptures, as when Isaias saw God in His glory beneath the smoke which covered
the Temple, and beneath the seraphim who covered their faces and their feet
with wings;[320] and as Jeremias saw the rod
watching,[321] and Daniel a multitude of
visions,[322] etc. And the devil, too,
strives to deceive the soul with his visions, which in appearance are good, as
may be seen in the Book of the Kings, when he deceived all the prophets of
Achab, presenting to their imaginations the horns wherewith he said the King
was to destroy the Assyrians, which was a lie.[323] Even such were the visions
of Pilate's wife, warning him not to condemn Christ;[324] and there are many other
places where it is seen how, in this mirror of the fancy and the imagination,
these imaginary visions come more frequently to proficients than do outward and
bodily visions. These, as we say, differ not in their nature (that is, as being
images and species) from those which enter by the outward senses; but, with
respect to the effect which they produce, and in the degree of their
perfection, there is a great difference; for imaginary visions are subtler and
produce a deeper impression upon the soul, inasmuch as they are supernatural,
and are also more interior than the exterior supernatural visions.
Nevertheless, it is true that some of these exterior bodily visions may produce
a deeper impression; the communication, after all, is as God wills. We are
speaking, however, merely as concerns their nature, and in this respect they
are more spiritual.
4. It is
to these senses of imagination and fancy that the devil habitually betakes
himself with his wiles -- now natural, now supernatural;[325] for they are the door and
entrance to the soul, and here, as we have said, the understanding comes to
take up or set down its goods, as it were in a harbour or in a store-house
where it keeps its provisions. And for this reason it is hither that both God
and the devil always come with their jewels of supernatural forms and images,
to offer them to the understanding; although God does not make use of this
means alone to instruct the soul, but dwells within it in substance, and is
able to do this by Himself and by other methods.
5. There
is no need for me to stop here in order to give instruction concerning the
signs by which it may be known which visions are of God and which not, and
which are of one kind and which of another; for this is not my intention, which
is only to instruct the understanding herein, that it may not be hindered or
impeded as to union with Divine Wisdom by the good visions, neither may be
deceived by those which are false.
6. I
say, then, that with regard to all these imaginary visions and apprehensions
and to all other forms and species whatsoever, which present themselves beneath
some particular kind of knowledge or image or form, whether they be false and
come from the devil or are recognized as true and coming from God, the
understanding must not be embarrassed by them or feed upon them, neither must
the soul desire to receive them or to have them, lest it should no longer be
detached, free, pure and simple, without any mode or manner, as is required for
union.
7. The
reason of this is that all these forms which we have already mentioned are
always represented, in the apprehension of the soul, as we have said, beneath certain
modes and manners which have limitations; and that the Wisdom of God, wherewith
the understanding is to be united, has no mode or manner, neither is it
contained within any particular or distinct kind of intelligence or limit,
because it is wholly pure and simple. And as, in order that these two extremes
may be united -- namely, the soul and Divine Wisdom -- it will be necessary for
them to attain to agreement, by means of a certain mutual resemblance, hence it
follows that the soul must be pure and simple, neither bounded by, nor attached
to, any particular kind of intelligence, nor modified by any limitation of
form, species and image. As God comes not within any image or form, neither is
contained within any particular kind of intelligence, so the soul, in order to
reach God,[326] must likewise come within
no distinct form or kind of intelligence.
8. And
that there is no form or likeness in God is clearly declared by the Holy Spirit
in Deuteronomy, where He says: Vocem verborum ejus audistis, et formam
penitus non vidistis.[327] Which signifies: Ye heard
the voice of His words, and ye saw in God no form whatsoever. But He says that
there was darkness there, and clouds and thick darkness, which are the confused
and dark knowledge whereof we have spoken, wherein the soul is united with God.
And afterwards He says further: Non vidistis aliquam similitudinem in die,
qua locutus est vobis Dominus in Horeb de medio ignis. That is: Ye saw no
likeness in God upon the day when He spoke to you on Mount Horeb, out of the
midst of the fire.[328]
9. And
that the soul cannot reach the height of God, even as far as is possible in
this life, by means of any form and figure, is declared likewise by the same
Holy Spirit in the Book of Numbers, where God reproves Aaron and Miriam, the
brother and sister of Moses, because they murmured against him, and, desiring
to convey to them the loftiness of the state of union and friendship with Him
wherein He had placed him, said: Si quis inter vos fuerit Propheta Domini,
in visione apparebo ei, vel per somnium loquar ad illum. At non talis servus
meus Moyses, qui in omni domo mea fidelissimus est: ore enim ad os loquor ei,
et palem, et non per aenigmata, et figuras Dominum videt.[329] Which signifies: If there
be any prophet of the Lord among you, I will appear to him in some vision or
form, or I will speak with him in his dreams; but there is none like My servant
Moses, who is the most faithful in all My house, and I speak with him mouth to
mouth, and he sees not God by comparisons, similitudes and figures. Herein He
says clearly that, in this lofty state of union whereof we are speaking, God is
not communicated to the soul by means of any disguise of imaginary vision or
similitude or form, neither can He be so communicated; but mouth to mouth --
that is, in the naked and pure essence of God, which is the mouth of God in
love, with the naked and pure essence of the soul, which is the mouth of the
soul in love of God.
10.
Wherefore, in order to come to this essential union of love in God, the soul
must have a care not to lean upon[330] imaginary visions, nor upon
forms or figures or particular objects of the understanding; for these cannot
serve it as a proportionate and proximate means to such an end; rather they
would disturb it, and for this reason the soul must renounce them and strive
not to have them. For if in any circumstances they were to be received and
prized, it would be for the sake of profit which true visions bring to the soul
and the good effect which they produce upon it. But, for this to happen, it is
not necessary to receive them; indeed, for the soul's profit, it is well always
to reject them. For these imaginary visions, like the outward bodily visions
whereof we have spoken, do the soul good by communicating to it intelligence or
love or sweetness; but for this effect to be produced by them in the soul it is
not necessary that it should desire to receive them; for, as has also been said
above, at this very time when they are present to the imagination, they produce
in the soul and infuse into it intelligence and love, or sweetness, or whatever
effect God wills them to produce. And not only do they produce this joint
effect, but principally, although not simultaneously, they produce their effect
in the soul passively, without its being able to hinder this effect, even if it
so desired, just as it was also powerless to acquire it, although it had been
able previously to prepare itself. For, even as the window is powerless to
impede the ray of sunlight which strikes it, but, when it is prepared by being
cleansed, receives its light passively without any diligence or labour on its
own part, even so the soul, although against its will, cannot fail to receive
in itself the influences and communications of those figures, however much it
might desire to resist them. For the will that is negatively inclined cannot,
if coupled with loving and humble resignation, resist supernatural infusions;
only the impurity and imperfections of the soul can resist them even as the
stains upon a window impede the brightness of the sunlight.[331]
11. From
this it is evident that, when the soul completely detaches itself, in its will
and affection, from the apprehensions of the strains of those forms, images and
figures wherein are clothed the spiritual communications which we have
described, not only is it not deprived of these communications and the
blessings which they cause within it, but it is much better prepared to receive
them with greater abundance, clearness, liberty of spirit and simplicity, when
all these apprehensions are set on one side, for they are, as it were, curtains
and veils covering the spiritual thing that is behind them. And thus, if the
soul desire to feed upon them, they occupy spirit and sense in such a way that
the spirit cannot communicate itself simply and freely; for, while they are
still occupied with the outer rind, it is clear that the understanding is not
free to receive the substance. Wherefore, if the soul at that time desires to
receive these forms and to set store by them, it would be embarrassing itself,
and contenting itself with the least important part of them -- namely, all that
it can apprehend and know of them, which is the form and image and particular
object of the understanding in question. The most important part of them, which
is the spiritual part that is infused into the soul, it can neither apprehend
nor understand, nor can it even know what it is, or be able to express it,
since it is purely spiritual. All that it can know of them, as we say,
according to its manner of understanding, is but the least part of what is in
them -- namely, the forms perceptible by sense. For this reason I say that what
it cannot understand or imagine is communicated to it by these visions,
passively, without any effort of its own to understand and without its even
knowing how to make such an effort.
12.
Wherefore the eyes of the soul must ever be withdrawn from all these
apprehensions which it can see and understand distinctly, which are
communicated through sense, and do not make for a foundation of faith, or for
reliance on faith, and must be set upon that which it sees not, and which
belongs not to sense, but to spirit, which can be expressed by no figure of
sense; and it is this which leads the soul to union in faith, which is the true
medium, as has been said. And thus these visions will profit the soul
substantially, in respect of faith, when it is able to renounce the sensible
and intelligible part of them, and to make good use of the purpose for which
God gives them to the soul, by casting them aside; for, as we said of corporeal
visions, God gives them not so that the soul may desire to have them and to set
its affection upon them.
13. But
there arises here this question: If it be true that God gives the soul
supernatural visions, but not so that it may desire to have them or be attached
to them or set store by them, why does He give them at all, since by their
means the soul may fall into many errors and perils, or at the least may find
in them such hindrances to further progress as are here described, especially
since God can come to the soul, and communicate to it, spiritually and
substantially, that which He communicates to it through sense, by means of the
sensible forms and visions aforementioned?
14. We
shall answer this question in the following chapter: it involves important
teaching, most necessary, as I see it, both to spiritual persons and to those
who instruct them. For herein is taught the way and purpose of God with respect
to these visions, which many know not, so that they cannot rule themselves or
guide themselves to union, neither can they guide others to union, through
these visions. For they think that, just because they know them to be true and
to come from God, it is well to receive them and to trust them, not realizing
that the soul will become attached to them, cling to them and be hindered by
them, as it will by things of the world, if it know not how to renounce these
as well as those. And thus they think it well to receive one kind of vision and
to reject another, causing themselves, and the souls under their care, great
labour and peril in discerning between the truth and the falsehood of these
visions. But God does not command them to undertake this labour, nor does He
desire that sincere and simple souls should be led into this conflict and
danger; for they have safe and sound teaching, which is that of the faith,
wherein they can go forward.
15.
This, however, cannot be unless they close their eyes to all that is of
particular and clear intelligence and sense. For, although Saint Peter was
quite certain of that vision of glory which he saw in Christ at the
Transfiguration, yet, after having described it in his second canonical
Epistle, he desired not that it should be taken for an important and sure
testimony, but rather directed his hearers to faith, saying: Et habemus
firmiorem propheticum sermonem: cui benefacitis attendentes, quasi lucernoe
lucenti in caliginoso loco, donec dies elucescat.[332] Which signifies: And we
have a surer testimony than this vision of Tabor -- namely, the sayings and
words of the prophets who bear testimony to Christ, whereunto ye must indeed
cling, as to a candle which gives light in a dark place. If we will think upon
this comparison, we shall find therein the teaching which we are now
expounding. For, in telling us to look to the faith whereof the prophets spake,
as to a candle that shines in a dark place, he is bidding us remain in the
darkness, with our eyes closed to all these other lights; and telling us that
in this darkness, faith alone, which likewise is dark, will be the light to
which we shall cling; for if we desire to cling to these other bright lights --
namely, to distinct objects of the understanding -- we cease to cling to that
dark light, which is faith, and we no longer have that light in the dark place
whereof Saint Peter speaks. This place, which here signifies the understanding,
which is the candlestick wherein this candle of faith is set, must be dark
until the day when the clear vision of God dawns upon it in the life to come,
or, in this life, until the day of transformation and union with God to which
the soul is journeying.
CHAPTER
XVII
Wherein
is described the purpose and manner of God in His communication of spiritual
blessings to the soul by means of the senses. Herein is answered the question
which has been referred to.
THERE
is much to be said concerning the purpose of God, and concerning the manner
wherein He gives these visions in order to raise up the soul from its lowly
estate to His Divine union. All spiritual books deal with this and in this
treatise of ours the method which we pursue is to explain it; therefore I shall
only say in this chapter as much as is necessary to answer our question, which
was as follows: Since in these supernatural visions there is so much hindrance
and peril to progress, as we have said, why does God, Who is most wise and
desires to remove stumbling-blocks and snares from the soul, offer and
communicate them to it?
2. In
order to answer this, it is well first of all to set down three fundamental
points. The first is from Saint Paul ad Romanos, where he says: Quae
autem sunt, a Deo ordinatoe sunt.[333] Which signifies: The works
that are done are ordained of God. The second is from the Holy Spirit in the
Book of Wisdom, where He says: Disponit omnia suaviter.[334] And this is as though He
had said: The wisdom of God, although it extends from one end to another --
that is to say, from one extreme to another -- orders all things with
sweetness. The third is from the theologians, who say that Omnia movet
secundum modum eorum. That is, God moves all things according to their
nature.
3. It is
clear, then, from these fundamental points, that if God is to move the soul and
to raise it up from the extreme depth of its lowliness to the extreme height of
His loftiness, in Divine union with Him, He must do it with order and sweetness
and according to the nature of the soul itself. Then, since the order whereby
the soul acquires knowledge is through forms and images of created things, and
the natural way wherein it acquires this knowledge and wisdom is through the
senses, it follows that, if God is to raise up the soul to supreme knowledge,
and to do so with sweetness, He must begin to work from the lowest and extreme
end of the senses of the soul, in order that He may gradually lead it,
according to its own nature, to the other extreme of His spiritual wisdom,
which belongs not to sense. Wherefore He first leads it onward by instructing
it through forms, images and ways of sense, according to its own method of
understanding, now naturally, now supernaturally, and by means of reasoning, to
this supreme Spirit of God.
4. It is
for this reason that God gives the soul visions and forms, images and other
kinds of sensible and intelligible knowledge of a spiritual nature; not that
God would not give it spiritual wisdom immediately, and all at once, if the two
extremes -- which are human and Divine, sense and spirit -- could in the
ordinary way concur and unite in one single act, without the previous
intervention of many other preparatory acts which concur among themselves in
order and sweetness, and are a basis and a preparation one for another, like
natural agents; so that the first acts serve the second, the second the third,
and so onward, in exactly the same way. And thus God brings man to perfection
according to the way of man's own nature, working from what is lowest and most
exterior up to what is most interior and highest. First, then, He perfects his
bodily senses, impelling him to make use of good things which are natural,
perfect and exterior, such as hearing sermons and masses, looking on holy
things, mortifying the palate at meals and chastening the sense of touch by
penance and holy rigour. And, when these senses are in some degree prepared, He
is wont to perfect them still further, by bestowing on them certain
supernatural favours and gifts, in order to confirm them the more completely in
that which is good, offering them certain supernatural communications, such as
visions of saints or holy things, in corporeal shape, the sweetest perfumes,
locutions, and exceeding great delights of touch, wherewith sense is greatly
continued in virtue and is withdrawn from a desire for evil things. And besides
this He continues at the same time to perfect the interior bodily senses,
whereof we are here treating, such as imagination and fancy, and to habituate
them to that which is good, by means of considerations, meditations, and
reflections of a sacred kind, in all of which He is instructing the spirit.
And, when these are prepared by this natural exercise, God is wont to enlighten
and spiritualize them still more by means of certain supernatural visions,
which are those that we are here calling imaginary; wherein, as we have said,
the spirit, at the same time, profits greatly, for both kinds of vision help to
take away its grossness and gradually to reform it. And after this manner God
continues to lead the soul step by step till it reaches that which is the most
interior of all; not that it is always necessary for Him to observe this order,
and to cause the soul to advance exactly in this way, from the first step to
the last; sometimes He allows the soul to attain one stage and not another, or
leads it from the more interior to the less, or effects two stages of progress
together. This happens when God sees it to be meet for the soul, or when He desires
to grant it His favours in this way; nevertheless His ordinary method is as has
been said.
5. It is
in this way, then, that God instructs[335] the soul and makes it more
spiritual, communicating spirituality to it first of all by means of outward
and palpable things, adapted to sense, on account of the soul's feebleness and
incapacity, so that, by means of the outer husk of those things which in
themselves are good, the spirit may make[336] particular acts and receive
so many spiritual communications[337] that it may form a habit as
to things spiritual, and may acquire actual and substantial spirituality, which
is completely removed from every sense. To this, as we have said, the soul
cannot attain except very gradually, and in its own way -- that is, by means of
sense -- to which it has ever been attached. And thus, in proportion as the
spirit attains more nearly to converse with God, it becomes ever more detached
and emptied of the ways of sense, which are those of imaginary meditation and
reflection. Wherefore, when the soul attains perfectly to spiritual converse
with God, it must of necessity have been voided of all that relates to God and
yet might come under the head of sense. Even so, the more closely a thing grows
attracted to one extreme, the farther removed and withdrawn[338] it becomes from the other;
and, when it comes to rest perfectly in the one, it will also have withdrawn
itself perfectly from the other. Wherefore there is a commonly quoted spiritual
adage which says: Gustato spiritu, desipit omni caro. Which signifies:
After the taste and sweetness of the spirit have been experienced, everything
carnal is insipid. That is: No profit or enjoyment is afforded by all the ways
of the flesh, wherein is included all communication of sense with the
spiritual. And this is clear: for, if it is spirit, it has no more to do with
sense; and, if sense can comprehend it, it is no longer pure spirit. For, the
more can be known of it by natural apprehension and sense, the less it has of
spirit and of the supernatural, as has been explained above.
6. The
spirit that has become perfect, therefore, pays no heed to sense, nor does it
receive anything through sense, nor make any great use of it, neither does it
need to do so, in its relations with God, as it did aforetime when it had not
grown spiritually. It is this that is signified by that passage from Saint
Paul's Epistle to the Corinthians which says: Cum essem parvulus, loquebar
ut parvulus, sapiebam ut parvulus, cogitabam ut parvulus. Quando autem factus
sum vir, evacuavi quae erant parvuli.[339] This signifies: When I was
a child, I spake as a child, I knew as a child, I thought as a child; but, when
I became a man, I put away[340] childish things. We have
already explained how the things of sense, and the knowledge that spirit can
derive from them, are the business of a child. Thus, if the soul should desire
to cling to them for ever, and not to throw them aside, it would never be aught
but a little child; it would speak ever of God as a child, and would know of
God as a child, and would think of God as a child; for, clinging to the outer
husk of sense, which pertains to the child, it would never attain to the
substance of the spirit, which pertains to the perfect man. And thus the soul
must not desire to receive the said revelations in order to continue in growth,
even though God offer them to it, just as the child must leave the breast in
order to accustom its palate to strong meat, which is more substantial.
7. You
will ask, then, if, when the soul is immature, it must take these things, and,
when it is grown, must abandon them; even as an infant must take the breast, in
order to nourish itself, until it be older and can leave it. I answer that,
with respect to meditation and natural reflection by means of which the soul
begins to seek God, it is true that it must not leave the breast of sense in
order to continue taking in nourishment until the time and season to leave it
have arrived, and this comes when God brings the soul into a more spiritual
communion, which is contemplation, concerning which we gave instruction in the
eleventh chapter of this book.[341] But, when it is a question
of imaginary visions, or other supernatural apprehensions, which can enter the
senses without the co-operation of man's free will, I say that at no time and
season must it receive them, whether the soul be in the state of perfection, or
whether in a state less perfect -- not even though they come from God. And this
for two reasons. The first is that, as we have said, He produces His effect in
the soul, without its being able to hinder it, although, as often happens, it
can and may hinder visions; and consequently that effect which was to be
produced in the soul is communicated to it much more substantially, although
not after that manner. For, as we said likewise, the soul cannot hinder the
blessings that God desires to communicate to it, since it is not in the soul's
power to do so, save when it has some imperfection and attachment; and there is
neither imperfection nor attachment in renouncing these things with humility
and misgiving. The second reason is that the soul may free itself from the
peril and effort inherent in discerning between evil visions and good, and in
deciding whether an angel be of light or of darkness. This effort brings the
soul no advantage; it merely wastes its time, and hinders it, and becomes to it
an occasion of many imperfections and of failure to make progress. The soul
concerns not itself, in such a case, with what is important, nor frees itself
of trifles in the shape of apprehensions and perceptions of some particular
kind. This has already been said in the discussion of corporeal visions; and
more will be said on the subject hereafter.
8. Let
it be believed, too, that, if Our Lord were not about to lead the soul in a way
befitting its own nature, as we say here, He would never communicate to it the
abundance of His Spirit through these aqueducts, which are so narrow -- these
forms and figures and particular perceptions -- by means whereof He gives the
soul enlightenment by crumbs. For this cause David says: Mittit crystallum
suam sicut buccellas.[342] Which is as much as to say:
He sent His wisdom to the souls as in morsels. It is greatly to be lamented
that, though the soul has infinite capacity, it should be given its food by
morsels conveyed through the senses, by reason of the small degree of its
spirituality and its incapacitation by sense. Saint Paul was also grieved by
this lack of preparation and this incapability of men for receiving the Spirit,
when he wrote to the Corinthians, saying: 'I, brethren, when I came to you,
could not speak to you as to spiritual persons, but as to carnal; for ye could
not receive it, neither can ye now.' Tamquam parvulis in Christo lac potum
vobis dedi, non escam.[343] That is: I have given you
milk to drink, as to infants in Christ, and not solid food to eat.
9. It
now remains, then, to be pointed out that the soul must not allow its eyes to
rest upon that outer husk -- namely, figures and objects set before it
supernaturally. These may be presented to the exterior senses, as are locutions
and words audible to the ear; or, to the eyes, visions of saints, and of
beauteous radiance; or perfumes to the sense of smell; or tastes and
sweetnesses to the palate; or other delights to the touch, which are wont to
proceed from the spirit, a thing that very commonly happens to spiritual
persons. Or the soul may have to avert its eyes from visions of interior sense,
such as imaginary visions, all of which it must renounce entirely. It must set
its eyes only upon the spiritual good which they produce, striving to preserve
it in its works and to practise that which is for the due service of God,
paying no heed to those representations nor desiring any pleasure of sense. And
in this way the soul takes from these things only that which God intends and
wills -- namely, the spirit of devotion -- for there is no other important
purpose for which He gives them; and it casts aside that which He would not
give if these gifts could be received in the spirit without it, as we have said
-- namely, the exercise and apprehension of the senses.
CHAPTER
XVIII
Which
treats of the harm that certain spiritual masters may do to souls when they
direct them not by a good method with respect to the visions aforementioned.
Describes also how these visions may cause deception even though they be of
God.
IN
this matter of visions we cannot be as brief as we should desire, since there
is so much to say about them. Although in substance we have said what is
relevant in order to explain to the spiritual person how he is to behave with
regard to the visions aforementioned, and to the master who directs him, the
way in which he is to deal with his disciple, yet it will not be superfluous to
go into somewhat greater detail about this doctrine, and to give more
enlightenment as to the harm which can ensue, either to spiritual souls or to
the masters who direct them, if they are over-credulous about them, although
they be of God.
2. The
reason which has now moved me to write at length about this is the lack of
discretion, as I understand it, which I have observed in certain spiritual
masters. Trusting to these supernatural apprehensions, and believing that they
are good and come from God, both masters and disciples have fallen into great
error and found themselves in dire straits, wherein is fulfilled the saying of
Our Saviour: Si coecus coeco ducatum praestet, ambo in foveam cadunt.[344] Which signifies: If a blind
man lead another blind man, both fall into the pit. And He says not 'shall
fall,' but 'fall.' For they may fall without falling into error, since the very
venturing of the one to guide the other is going astray, and thus they fall in
this respect alone, at the very least. And, first of all, there are some whose
way and method with souls that experience these visions cause them to stray, or
embarrass them with respect to their visions, or guide them not along the road
in some way (for which reason they remain without the true spirit of faith) and
edify them not in faith, but lead them to speak highly of those things. By
doing this they make them realize that they themselves set some value upon
them, or make great account of them, and, consequently, their disciples do the
same. Thus their souls have been set upon these apprehensions, instead of being
edified in faith, so that they may be empty and detached, and freed from those
things and can soar to the heights of dark faith. All this arises from the
terms and language which the soul observes its master to employ with respect to
these apprehensions; somehow it very easily develops a satisfaction and an esteem
for them, which is not in its own control, and which averts its eyes from the
abyss of faith.
3. And
the reason why this is so easy must be that the soul is so greatly occupied
with these things of sense that, as it is inclined to them by nature, and is likewise
disposed to enjoy the apprehension of distinct and sensible things, it has only
to observe in its confessor, or in some other person, a certain esteem and
appreciation for them, and not merely will it at once conceive the same itself,
but also, without its realizing the fact, its desire will become lured away by
them, so that it will feed upon them and will be ever more inclined toward them
and will set a certain value upon them. And hence arise many imperfections, at
the very least; for the soul is no longer as humble as before, but thinks that
all this is of some importance and productive of good, and that it is itself
esteemed by God, and that He is pleased and somewhat satisfied with it, which
is contrary to humility. And thereupon the devil secretly sets about increasing
this, without the soul's realizing it, and begins to suggest ideas to it about
others, as to whether they have these things or have them not, or are this or
are that; which is contrary to holy simplicity and spiritual solitude.
4. There
is much more to be said about these evils, and of how such souls, unless they
withdraw themselves, grow not in faith, and also of how there are other evils
of the same kind which, although they be not so palpable and recognizable as
these, are subtler and more hateful in the Divine eyes, and which result from
not living in complete detachment. Let us, however, leave this subject now,
until we come to treat of the vice of spiritual gluttony and of the other six
vices, whereof, with the help of God, many things will be said, concerning
these subtle and delicate stains which adhere to the spirit when its director
cannot guide it in detachment.
5. Let
us now say something of this manner wherein certain confessors deal with souls,
and instruct them ill. And of a truth I could wish that I knew how to describe
it, for I realize that it is a difficult thing to explain how the spirit of the
disciple grows in conformity with that of his spiritual father, in a hidden and
secret way; and this matter is so tedious that it wearies me, for it seems
impossible to speak of the one thing without describing the other also, as they
are spiritual things, and the one corresponds with the other.
6. But
it is sufficient to say here that I believe, if the spiritual father has an
inclination toward revelations of such a kind that they mean something to him,
or satisfy or delight his soul, it is impossible but that he will impress that
delight and that aim upon the spirit of his disciple, even without realizing
it, unless the disciple be more advanced than he; and, even in this latter
case, he may well do him grievous harm if he continue with him. For, from that
inclination of the spiritual father toward such visions, and the pleasure which
he takes in them, there arises a certain kind of esteem for them, of which,
unless he watch it carefully, he cannot fail to communicate some indication or
impression to other persons; and if any other such person is like-minded and
has a similar inclination, it is impossible, as I understand, but that there
will be communicated from the one to the other a readiness to apprehend these
things and a great esteem for them.
7. But
we need not now go into detail about this. Let us speak of the confessor who,
whether or no he be inclined toward these things, has not the prudence that he
ought to have in disencumbering the soul of his disciple and detaching his
desire from them, but begins to speak to him about these visions and devotes
the greater part of his spiritual conversation to them, as we have said, giving
him signs by which he may distinguish good visions from evil. Now, although it
is well to know this, there is no reason for him to involve the soul in such
labour, anxiety and peril. By paying no heed to visions, and refusing to
receive them, all this is prevented, and the soul acts as it should. Nor is
this all, for such confessors, when they see that their penitents are receiving
visions from God, beg them to entreat God to reveal them to themselves also, or
to say such and such things to them, with respect to themselves or to others,
and the foolish souls do so, thinking that it is lawful to desire knowledge by
this means. For they suppose that, because God is pleased to reveal or say
something by supernatural means, in His own way or for His own purpose, it is
lawful for them to desire Him to reveal it to them, and even to entreat Him to
do so.
8. And,
if it come to pass that God answers their petition and reveals it, they become
more confident, thinking that, because God answers them, it is His will and
pleasure to do so; whereas, in reality, it is neither God's will nor His
pleasure. And they frequently act or believe according to that which He has
revealed to them, or according to the way wherein He has answered them; for, as
they are attached to that manner of communion with God, the revelation makes a
great impression upon them and their will acquiesces in it. They take a natural
pleasure in their own way of thinking and therefore naturally acquiesce in it;
and frequently they go astray. Then they see that something happens in a way
they had not expected; and they marvel, and then begin to doubt if the thing
were of God,[345] since it happens not, and
they see it not, according to their expectations. At the beginning they thought
two things: first, that the vision was of God, since at the beginning it agreed
so well with their disposition, and their natural inclination to that kind of
thing may well have been the cause of this agreement, as we have said; and
secondly that, being of God, it would turn out as they thought or expected.
9. And
herein lies a great delusion, for revelations or locutions which are of God do
not always turn out as men expect or as they imagine inwardly. And thus they
must never be believed or trusted blindly, even though they are known to be
revelations or answers or sayings of God. For, although they may in themselves
be certain and true, they are not always so in their causes, and according to
our manner of understanding, as we shall prove in the chapter following. And
afterwards we shall further say and prove that, although God sometimes gives a
supernatural answer to that which is asked of Him, it is not His pleasure to do
so, and sometimes, although He answers, He is angered.
CHAPTER
XIX
Wherein
is expounded and proved how, although visions and locutions which come from God
are true, we may be deceived about them. This is proved by quotations from
Divine Scripture.
FOR
two reasons we have said that, although visions and locutions which come from
God are true, and in themselves are always certain, they are not always so with
respect to ourselves. One reason is the defective way in which we understand
them; and the other, the variety of their causes. In the first place, it is
clear that they are not always as they seem, nor do they turn out as they
appear to our manner of thinking. The reason for this is that, since God is
vast and boundless, He is wont, in His prophecies, locutions and revelations,
to employ ways, concepts and methods of seeing things which differ greatly from
such purpose and method as can normally be understood by ourselves; and these
are the truer and the more certain the less they seem so to us. This we
constantly see in the Scriptures. To many of the ancients many prophecies and
locutions of God came not to pass as they expected, because they understood
them after their own manner, in the wrong way, and quite literally. This will
be clearly seen in these passages.
2. In
Genesis, God said to Abraham, when He had brought him to the land of the
Chanaanites: Tibi dabo terram hanc.[346] Which signifies, I will
give thee this land. And when He had said it to him many times, and Abraham was
by now very Domine, unde scire possum, quod possessurus sim eam? That
old, and He had never given it to him, though He had said this to him, Abraham
answered God once again and said: Lord, whereby or by what sign am I to know
that I am to possess it? Then God revealed to him that he was not to possess it
in person, but that his sons would do so after four hundred years; and Abraham
then understood the promise, which in itself was most true; for, in giving it
to his sons for love of him, God was giving it to himself. And thus Abraham was
deceived by the way in which he himself had understood the prophecy. If he had
then acted according to his own understanding of it, those that saw him die
without its having been given to him might have erred greatly; for they were
not to see the time of its fulfilment. And, as they had heard him say that God
would give it to him, they would have been confounded and would have believed
it to have been false.
3.
Likewise to his grandson Jacob, when Joseph his son brought him to Egypt
because of the famine in Chanaan, and when he was on the road, God appeared and
said: Jacob, Jacob, noli timere, descende in Aegiptum, quia in gentem magnam
faciam te ibi. Ego descendam tecum illuc. . . . Et inde adducam te
revertentem.[347] Which signifies: Jacob,
fear not; go down into Egypt, and I will go down there with thee; and, when
thou goest forth thence again, I will bring thee out and guide thee. This
promise, as it would seem according to our own manner of understanding, was not
fulfilled, for, as we know, the good old man Jacob died in Egypt and never left
it alive. The word of God was to be fulfilled in his children, whom He brought
out thence after many years, being Himself their guide upon the way. It is
clear that anyone who had known of this promise made by God to Jacob would have
considered it certain that Jacob, even as he had gone to Egypt alive, in his
own person, by the command and favour of God, would of a certainty leave it,
alive and in his own person, in the same form and manner as he went there,
since God had promised him a favourable return; and such a one would have been
deceived, and would have marvelled greatly, when he saw him die in Egypt, and
the promise, in the sense in which he understood it, remain unfulfilled. And
thus, while the words of God are in themselves most true, it is possible to be
greatly mistaken with regard to them.
4. In
the Judges, again, we read that, when all the tribes of Israel had come
together to make war against the tribe of Benjamin, in order to punish a
certain evil to which that tribe had been consenting, they were so certain of
victory because God had appointed them a captain for the war, that, when
twenty-two thousand of their men were conquered and slain, they marvelled very
greatly; and, going into the presence of God, they wept all that day, knowing
not the cause of the fall, since they had understood that the victory was to be
theirs. And, when they enquired of God if they should give battle again or no,
He answered that they should go and fight against them. This time they
considered victory to be theirs already, and went out with great boldness, and
were conquered again the second time, with the loss of eighteen thousand of
their men. Thereat they were greatly confused, and knew not what to do, seeing
that God had commanded them to fight and yet each time they were vanquished,
though they were superior to their enemies in number and strength, for the men
of Benjamin were no more than twenty-five thousand and seven hundred and they
were four hundred thousand. And in this way they were mistaken in their manner
of understanding the words of God. His words were not deceptive, for He had not
told them that they would conquer, but that they should fight; for by these
defeats God wished to chastise a certain neglect and presumption of theirs, and
thus to humble them. But, when in the end He answered that they would conquer,
it was so, although they conquered only after the greatest stratagem and toil.[348]
5. In
this way, and in many other ways, souls are oftentimes deceived with respect to
locutions and revelations that come from God, because they interpret them
according to their apparent sense[349] and literally; whereas, as
has already been explained, the principal intention of God in giving these
things is to express and convey the spirit that is contained in them, which is
difficult to understand. And the spirit is much more pregnant in meaning than
the letter, and is very extraordinary, and goes far beyond its limits. And
thus, he that clings to the letter, or to a locution or to the form or figure
of a vision, which can be apprehended, will not fail to go far astray, and will
forthwith fall into great confusion and error, because he has guided himself by
sense according to these visions, and not allowed the spirit to work in
detachment from sense. Littera enim occidit, spiritus autem vivificat,[350] as Saint Paul says. That
is: The letter killeth and the spirit giveth life. Wherefore in this matter of
sense the letter must be set aside, and the soul must remain in darkness, in
faith, which is the spirit, and this cannot be comprehended by sense.
6. For
which cause, many of the children of Israel, because they took the sayings and
prophecies of the prophets according to the strict letter, and these were not
fulfilled as they expected, came to make little account of them and believed
them not; so much so, that there grew up a common saying among them -- almost a
proverb, indeed -- which turned prophets into ridicule. Of this Isaias
complains, speaking and exclaiming in the manner following: Quem docebit
Dominus scientiam? et quem intelligere faciet auditum? ablactatos a lacte,
avulsos ab uberibus. Quia manda remanda, manda remanda, expecta reexpecta,
expecta reexpecta, modicum ibi, modicum ibi. In loquela enim labii, et lingua
altera loquetur ad populum istum.[351] This signifies: To whom
shall God teach knowledge? And whom shall He make to understand His word and
prophecy? Only them that are already weaned from the milk and drawn away from
the breasts. For all say (that is, concerning the prophecies): Promise and
promise again; wait and wait again; wait and wait again;[352] a little there, a little
there; for in the words of His lips and in another tongue will He speak to this
people. Here Isaias shows quite clearly that these people were turning
prophecies into ridicule, and that it was in mockery that they repeated this
proverb: 'Wait and then wait again.' They meant that the prophecies were never
fulfilled for them, for they were wedded to the letter, which is the milk of
infants, and to their own sense, which is the breasts, both of which contradict
the greatness of spiritual knowledge. Wherefore he says: To whom shall He teach
the wisdom of His prophecies? And whom shall He make to understand His
doctrine, save them that are already weaned from the milk of the letter and
from the breasts of their own senses? For this reason these people understand
it not, save according to this milk of the husk and letter, and these breasts
of their own sense, since they say: Promise and promise again; wait and wait
again, etc. For it is in the doctrine of the mouth of God, and not in their own
doctrine, and it is in another tongue than their own, that God shall speak to
them.
7. And
thus, in interpreting prophecy, we have not to consider our own sense and
language, knowing that the language of God is very different from ours, and
that it is spiritual language, very far removed from our understanding and
exceedingly difficult. So much so is it that even Jeremias, though a prophet of
God, when he sees that the significance of the words of God is so different
from the sense commonly attributed to them by men, is himself deceived by them
and defends the people, saying: Heu, heu, heu, Domine Deus, ergone decipisti
populum istum et Jerusalem, dicens: Pax erit vobis; et ecce pervenit gladius
usque ad animam?[353] Which signifies: Ah, ah,
ah, Lord God, hast Thou perchance deceived this people and Jerusalem, saying,
'Peace will come upon you,' and seest Thou here that the sword reacheth unto
their soul? For the peace that God promised them was that which was to be made
between God and man by means of the Messiah Whom He was to send them, whereas
they understood it of temporal peace; and therefore, when they suffered wars
and trials, they thought that God was deceiving them, because there befell them
the contrary of that which they expected. And thus they said, as Jeremias says
likewise: Exspectavimus pacem, et non erat bonum.[354] That is: We have looked for
peace and there is no boon of peace. And thus it was impossible for them not to
be deceived, since they took the prophecy merely in its literal sense. For who
would fail to fall into confusion and to go astray if he confined himself to a
literal interpretation of that prophecy which David spake concerning Christ, in
the seventy-first Psalm, and of all that he says therein, where he says: Et
dominabitur a mari usque ad mare; et a flumine usque ad terminos orbis terrarum.[355] That is: He shall have
dominion from one sea even to the other sea, and from the river even unto the
ends of the earth. And likewise in that which he says in the same place: Liberabit
pauperem a potente, et pauperem, cui non erat adjutor.[356] Which signifies: He shall
deliver the poor man from the power of the mighty, and the poor man that had no
helper. But later it became known that Christ was born[357] in a low state and lived in
poverty and died in misery; not only had He no dominion over the earth, in a
temporal sense, while He lived, but He was subject to lowly people, until He
died under the power of Pontius Pilate. And not only did He not deliver poor
men -- namely, His disciples -- from the hands of the mighty, in a temporal
sense, but He allowed them to be slain and persecuted for His name's sake.
8. The
fact is that these prophecies concerning Christ had to be understood
spiritually, in which sense they were entirely true. For Christ was not only
Lord of earth alone, but likewise of Heaven, since He was God; and the poor who
were to follow Him He was not only to redeem and free from the power of the
devil, that mighty one against whom they had no helper, but also to make heirs
of the Kingdom of Heaven. And thus God was speaking, in the most important
sense, of Christ, and of the reward of His followers,[358] which was an eternal
kingdom and eternal liberty; and they understood this, after their own manner,
in a secondary sense, of which God takes small account, namely that of temporal
dominion and temporal liberty, which in God's eyes is neither kingdom nor
liberty at all. Wherefore, being blinded by the insufficiency of the letter,
and not understanding its spirit and truth, they took the life of their God and
Lord, even as Saint Paul said in these words: Qui enim habitabant Jerusalem,
et principes ejus, hunc ignorantes et voces prophetarum, quae per omne Sabbatum
leguntur, judicantes impleverunt.[359] Which signifies: They that
dwelt in Jerusalem, and her rulers, not knowing Who He was, nor understanding
the sayings of the prophets, which are read every Sabbath day, have fulfilled
them by judging Him.
9. And
to such a point did they carry this inability to understand the sayings of God
as it behoved them, that even His own disciples, who had gone about with Him,
were deceived, as were those two who, after His death, were going to the
village of Emmaus, sad and disconsolate, saying: Nos autem sperabamus quod
ipse esset redempturus Israel.[360] We hoped that it was He
that should have redeemed Israel. They, too, understood that this dominion and
redemption were to be temporal; but Christ our Redeemer, appearing to them,
reproved them as foolish and heavy and gross of heart as to their belief in the
things that the prophets had spoken.[361] And, even when He was going
to Heaven, some of them were still in that state of grossness of heart, and
asked Him, saying: Domine, si in tempore hoc restitues Regnum Israel.[362] That is: Lord, tell us if
Thou wilt restore at this time the kingdom of Israel. The Holy Spirit causes
many things to be said which bear another sense than that which men understand;
as can be seen in that which he caused to be said by Caiphas concerning Christ:
that is was meet that one man should die lest all the people should perish.[363] This he said not of his own
accord; and he said it and understood it in one sense, and the Holy Spirit in
another.
10. From
this it is clear that, although sayings and revelations may be of God, we
cannot always be sure of their meaning; for we can very easily be greatly
deceived by them because of our manner of understanding them. For they are all
an abyss and a depth of the spirit, and to try to limit them to what we can
understand concerning them, and to what our sense can apprehend, is nothing but
to attempt to grasp the air, and to grasp some particle in it that the hand
touches: the air disappears and nothing remains.
11. The
spiritual teacher must therefore strive that the spirituality of his disciple
be not cramped by attempts to interpret all supernatural apprehensions, which
are no more than spiritual particles, lest he come to retain naught but these,
and have no spirituality at all. But let the teacher wean his disciple from all
visions and locutions, and impress upon him the necessity of dwelling in the
liberty and darkness of faith, wherein are received spiritual liberty and
abundance, and consequently the wisdom and understanding necessary to interpret
sayings of God. For it is impossible for a man, if he be not spiritual, to
judge of the things of God or understand them in a reasonable way, and he is
not spiritual when he judges them according to sense; and thus, although they
come to him beneath the disguise of sense, he understands them not. This Saint
Paul well expresses in these words: Animalis autem homo non percipit ea quoe
sunt spiritus Dei: stultitia enim est illi, et non potest intelligere: quia de
spiritualibus examinatur. Spiritualis autem judicat omnia.[364] Which signifies: The animal
man perceives not the things which are of the Spirit of God, for unto him they
are foolishness and he cannot understand them because they are spiritual; but
he that is spiritual judges all things. By the animal man is here meant one
that uses sense alone; by the spiritual man, one that is not bound or guided by
sense. Wherefore it is temerity to presume to have intercourse with God by way
of a supernatural apprehension effected by sense, or to allow anyone else to do
so.
12. And
that this may be the better understood let us here set down a few examples. Let
us suppose that a holy man is greatly afflicted because his enemies persecute
him, and that God answers him, saying: I will deliver thee from all thine
enemies. This prophecy may be very true, yet, notwithstanding, his enemies may
succeed in prevailing, and he may die at their hands. And so if a man should
understand this after a temporal manner he would be deceived; for God might be
speaking of the true and principal liberty and victory, which is salvation,
whereby the soul is delivered, free and made victorious[365] over all its enemies, and
much more truly so and in a higher sense than if it were delivered from them
here below. And thus, this prophecy was much more true and comprehensive than
the man could understand if he interpreted it only with respect to this life;
for, when God speaks, His words are always to be taken in the sense which is
most important and profitable, whereas man, according to his own way and
purpose, may understand the less important sense, and thus may be deceived.
This we see in that prophecy which David makes concerning Christ in the second
Psalm saying: Reges eos in virga ferrea, et tamquam vas figuli confringes
eos.[366] That is: Thou shalt rule
all the people with a rod of iron and thou shalt dash them in pieces like a vessel
of clay. Herein God speaks of the principal and perfect dominion, which is
eternal dominion; and it was in this sense that it was fulfilled, and not in
the less important sense, which was temporal, and which was not fulfilled in
Christ during any part of His temporal life.
13. Let
us take another example. A soul has great desires to be a martyr. It may happen
that God answers him, saying: Thou shalt be a martyr. This will give him
inwardly great comfort and confidence that he is to be martyred; yet it may
come to pass that he dies not the death of a martyr, and notwithstanding this
the promise may be true. Why, then, is it not fulfilled literally? Because it
will be fulfilled, and is capable of being fulfilled, according to the most
important and essential sense of that saying -- namely, in that God will have
given that soul the love and the reward which belong essentially to a martyr;
and thus in truth He gives to the soul that which it formally desired and that
which He promised it. For the formal desire of the soul was, not that
particular manner of death, but to do God a martyr's service, and to show its
love for Him as a martyr does. For that manner of death is of no worth in
itself without this love, the which love and the showing forth thereof and the
reward belonging to the martyr may be given to it more perfectly by other
means. So that, though it may not die like a martyr, the soul is well satisfied
that it has been given that which it sired. For, when they are born of living
love, such desires, and others like them, although they be not fulfilled in the
way wherein they are described and understood, are fulfilled in another and a
better way, and in a way which honours God more greatly than that which they
might have asked. Wherefore David says: Desiderium pauperum exaudivit
Dominus.[367] That is: The Lord has
granted the poor their desire. And in the Proverbs Divine Wisdom says: Desiderium
suum justis dabitur.[368] 'The just shall be given
their desire.' Hence, then, since we see that many holy men have desired many
particular things for God's sake, and that in this life their desires have not
been granted them, it is a matter of faith that, as their desires were just and
true, they have been fulfilled for them perfectly in the next life. Since this
is truth, it would also be truth for God to promise it to them in this life,
saying to them: Your desire shall be fulfilled; and for it not to be fulfilled
in the way which they expected.
14. In
this and other ways, the words and visions of God may be true and sure and yet
we may be deceived by them, through being unable to interpret them in a high
and important sense, which is the sense and purpose wherein God intends them.
And thus the best and surest course is to train souls in prudence so that they
flee from these supernatural things, by accustoming them, as we have said, to
purity of spirit in dark faith, which is the means of union.
CHAPTER
XX
Wherein
is proved by passages from Scripture how the sayings and words of God, though
always true, do not always rest upon stable causes.
WE
have now to prove the second reason why visions and words which come from God,
although in themselves they are always true, are not always stable in their
relation to ourselves. This is because of their causes, whereon they are
founded; for God often makes statements founded upon creatures and their
effects, which are changeable and liable to fail, for which reason the
statements which are founded upon them are liable also to be changeable and to
fail; for, when one thing depends on another, if one fails, the other fails
likewise. It is as though God should say: In a year's time I shall send upon
this kingdom such or such a plague; and the cause and foundation for this
warning is a certain offence which has been committed against God in that
kingdom. If the offence should cease or change, the punishment might cease; yet
the threat was true because it was founded upon the fault committed at the
time, and, if this had continued, it would have been carried out.
2. This,
we see, happened in the city of Ninive, where God said: Adhuc quadraginta
dies, et Ninive subvertetur.[369] Which signifies: Yet forty
days and Ninive shall be destroyed. This was not fulfilled, because the cause
of the threat ceased -- namely, the sins of the city, for which it did penace
-- but, if this had not been so, the prophecy would have been carried into
effect. We read likewise in the Third Book of the Kings that, when King Achab
had committed a very great sin, God sent to phophesy[370] a great punishment -- our
father Elias being the messenger -- which should come upon his person, upon his
house and upon his kingdom.[371] And, because Achab rent his
garments with grief and clothed himself in haircloth and fasted, and slept in
sackcloth and went about in a humble and contrite manner, God sent again, by
the same prophet, to declare to him these words: Quia igitur humiliatus est
mei causa, non inducam malum in diebus ejus, sed in diebus filii sui.[372] Which signifies: Inasmuch
as Achab has humbled himself for love of Me, I will not send the evil whereof I
spake in his days, but in the days of his son. Here we see that, because Achab
changed his spirit and his former affection, God likewise changed His sentence.
3. From
this we may deduce, as regards the matter under discussion, that, although God
may have revealed or affirmed something to a soul, whether good or evil, and
whether relating to that soul itself or to others, this may, to a greater or a
lesser extent, be changed or altered or entirely withdrawn, according to the
change or variation in the affection of this soul, or the cause whereon God
based His judgment, and thus it would not be fulfilled in the way expected, and
oftentimes none would have known why, save only God. For God is wont to declare
and teach and promise many things, not that they may be understood or possessed
at the time, but that they may be understood at a later time, when it is
fitting that a soul may have light concerning them, or when their effect is
attained. This, as we see, He did with His disciples, to whom He spake many
parables, and pronounced many judgments, the wisdom whereof they understood not
until the time when they had to preach it, which was when the Holy Spirit came
upon them, of Whom Christ had said to them that He would explain to them all
the things that He had spoken to them in His life. And, when Saint John speaks
of that entry of Christ into Jerusalem, he says: Haec non cognoverunt
discipuli ejus primum: sed quando glorificatus est Jesus, tunc recordati sunt
quia haec erant scripta de eo.[373] And thus there may pass
through the soul many detailed messages from God which neither the soul nor its
director will understand until the proper time.
4.
Likewise, in the First Book of the Kings, we read that, when God was wroth
against Heli, a priest of Israel, for his sins in not chastising his sons, he
sent to him by Samuel to say, among other words, these which follow: Loquens
locutus sum, ut domus tua, et domus patris tui, ministraret in conspectu meo,
usque in sempiternum. Verumtamen absit hoc a me. And this is as though He
had said:[374] In very truth I said
aforetime that thy house and the house of thy father should serve Me
continually in the priesthood in my presence for ever, but this purpose is far
from Me; I will not do this thing. For this office of the priesthood was
founded for giving honour and glory to God, and to this end God has promised to
give it to the father of Heli for ever if he failed not. But, when Heli failed
in zeal for the honour of God (for, as God Himself complained when He sent him
the message, he honoured his sons more than God, overlooking their sins so as
not to offend them), the promise also failed which would have held good for
ever if the good service and zeal of Heli had lasted for ever. And thus there
is no reason to think that, because sayings and revelations come from God, they
must invariably come to pass in their apparent sense, especially when they are
bound up with human causes which may vary, change, or alter.
5. And
when they are dependent upon these causes God Himself knows, though He does not
always declare it, but pronounces the saying, or makes the revelation, and
sometimes says nothing of the condition, as when He definitely told the
Ninivites that they would be destroyed after forty days.[375] At other times, he lays
down the condition, as He did to Roboam, saying to him: 'If thou wilt keep My
commandments, as my servant David, I will be with thee even as I was with him,
and will set thee up a house as I did to My servant David'.[376] But, whether He declares it
or no, the soul must not rely upon its own understanding; for it is impossible
to understand the hidden truths of God which are in His sayings, and the
multitude of their meanings. He is above the heavens, and speaks according to
the way of eternity;[377] we blind souls are upon the
earth and understand only the ways of flesh and time. It was for that reason, I
believe, that the Wise Man said: 'God is in Heaven, and thou are upon earth;
wherefore be not thou lengthy or hasty in speaking.'[378]
6. You
will perhaps ask me: Why, if we are not to understand these things, or to play
any part in them, does God communicate them to us? I have already said that
everything will be understood in its own time by the command of Him Who spake
it, and he whom God wills shall understand it, and it will be seen that it was
fitting; for God does naught save with due cause and in truth. Let it be
realized, therefore, that there is no complete understanding of the meaning of
the sayings and things of God, and that this meaning cannot be decided by what
it seems to be, without great error, and, in the end, grievous confusion. This
was very well known to the prophets, into whose hands was given the word of
God, and who found it a sore trial to prophesy concerning the people; for, as
we have said, many of the people saw that things came not to pass literally, as
they were told them, for which cause they laughed at the prophets and mocked
them greatly; so much that Jeremias went as far as to say: 'They mock me all
the day long, they scorn and despise me every one, for I have long been crying
against evil and promising them destruction; and the word of the Lord has been
made a reproach and a derision to me continually. And I said, I must not
remember Him, neither speak any more in His name.'[379] Herein, although the holy
prophet was speaking with resignation and in the form of a weak man who cannot
endure the ways and workings of God, he clearly indicates the difference
between the way wherein the Divine sayings are fulfilled and the ordinary
meaning which they appear to have; for the Divine prophets were treated as
mockers, and suffered so much from their prophecy that Jeremias himself said
elsewhere: Formido et laqueus facta est nobis vaticinatio et contritio.[380] Which signifies: Prophecy
has become to us fear and snares and contradiction of spirit.
7. And
the reason why Jonas fled when God sent him to preach the destruction of Ninive
was this, namely, that he knew the different meanings of the sayings of God
with respect to the understanding of men and with respect to the causes of the
sayings. And thus, lest they should mock him when they saw that his prophecy
was not fulfilled, he went away and lied in order not to prophesy; and thus he
remained waiting all the forty days outside the city, to see if his prophecy
was fulfilled; and, when it was not fulfilled, he was greatly afflicted, so
much so that he said to God: Obsecro, Domine, numquid non hoc est verbum
meum, cum adhuc essem in terra mea? propter hoc praeoccupavi, ut fugerem in
Tharsis.[381] That is: I pray Thee, O
Lord, is not this what I said when I was yet in my own country? Therefore was I
vexed, and fled away to Tharsis. And the saint was wroth and besought God to
take away his life.
8. Why,
then, must we marvel that God should speak and reveal certain things to souls
which come not to pass in the sense wherein they understand them? For, if God
should affirm or represent such or such a thing to the soul, whether good or
evil, with respect to itself or to another, and if that thing be founded upon a
certain affection or service or offence of that soul, or of another, at that
time, with respect to God, so that, if the soul persevere therein, it will be
fulfilled; yet even then its fulfillment is not certain, since it is not
certain that the soul will persevere. Wherefore we must rely, not upon
understanding, but upon faith.
CHAPTER
XXI
Wherein
is explained how at times, although God answers the prayers that are addressed
to Him, He is not pleased that we should use such methods. It is also shown
how, although He condescend to us and answer us, He is oftentimes wroth.
CERTAIN
spiritual men, as we have said, assure themselves that it is a good thing to
display curiosity, as they sometimes do, in striving to know certain things by
supernatural methods, thinking that, because God occasionally answers their
importunity, this is a good method and pleasing to Him. Yet the truth is that,
although He may answer them, the method is not good, neither is it pleasing to
God, but rather it is displeasing to Him; and not only so, but oftentimes He is
greatly offended and wroth. The reason for this is that it is lawful for no
creature to pass beyond the limits that God has ordained for its governance
after the order of nature. He has laid down rational and natural limits for
man's governance; wherefore to desire to pass beyond them is not lawful, and to
desire to seek out and attain to anything by supernatural means is to go beyond
these natural limits. It is therefore an unlawful thing, and it is therefore
not pleasing to God, for He is offended by all that is unlawful. King Achaz was
well aware of this, since, although Isaias told him from God to ask for a sign,
he would not do so, saying: Non petam, et non tentabo Dominum.[382] That is: I will not ask
such a thing, neither will I tempt God. For it is tempting God to seek to
commune with Him by extraordinary ways, such as those that are supernatural.
2. But
why, you will say, if it be a fact that God is displeased, does He sometimes
answer? I reply that it is sometimes the devil who answers. And, if it is God
Who answers, I reply that He does so because of the weakness of the soul that
desires to travel along that road, lest it should be disconsolate and go
backward, or lest it should think that God is wroth with it and should be
overmuch afflicted; or for other reasons known to God, founded upon the
weakness of that soul, whereby God sees that it is well that He should answer
it and deigns to do so in that way. In a like manner, too, does He treat many
weak and tender souls, granting them favours and sweetness in sensible converse
with Himself, as has been said above; this is not because He desires or is
pleased that they should commune with Him after that manner or by these
methods; it is that He gives to each one, as we have said, after the manner
best suited to him. For God is like a spring, whence everyone draws water
according to the vessel which he carries. Sometimes a soul is allowed to draw
it by these extraordinary channels; but it follows not from this that it is
lawful to draw water by them, but only that God Himself can permit this, when,
how and to whom He wills, and for what reason He wills, without the party
concerned having any right in the matter. And thus, as we say, He sometimes
deigns to satisfy the desire and the prayer of certain souls, whom, since they
are good and sincere, He wills not to fail to succour, lest He should make them
sad, but it is not because He is pleased with their methods that He wills it.
This will be the better understood by the following comparison.
3. The
father of a family has on his table many and different kinds of food, some of
which are better than others. A child is asking him for a certain dish, not the
best, but the first that meets its eye, and it asks for this dish because it
would rather eat of it than any other; and as the father sees that, even if he
gives it the better kind of food, it will not take it, but will have that which
it asks for, since that alone pleases it, he gives it that, regretfully, lest
it should take no food at all and be miserable. In just this way, we observe,
did God treat the children of Israel when they asked Him for a king: He gave
them one, but unwillingly, because it was not good for them. And thus He said
to Samuel: Audi vocem populi in omnibus quae loquuntur tibi: non enim te
objecerunt, sed me.[383] Which signifies: Hearken
unto the voice of this people and grant them the king whom they ask of thee,
for they have not rejected thee but Me, that I should not reign over them. In
this same way God condescends to certain souls, and grants them that which is
not best for them, because they will not or cannot walk by any other road. And
thus certain souls attain to tenderness and sweetness of spirit or sense; and
God grants them this because they are unable to partake of the stronger and
more solid food of the trials of the Cross of His Son, which He would prefer them
to take, rather than aught else.
4. I
consider, however, that the desire to know things by supernatural means is much
worse than the desire for other spiritual favours pertaining to the senses; for
I cannot see how the soul that desires them can fail to commit, at the least,
venial sin, however good may be its aims, and however far advanced it may be on
the road to perfection; and if anyone should bid the soul desire them, and
consent to it, he sins likewise. For there is no necessity for any of these things,
since the soul has its natural reason and the doctrine and law of the Gospel,
which are quite sufficient for its guidance, and there is no difficulty or
necessity that cannot be solved and remedied by these means, which are very
pleasing to God and of great profit to souls; and such great use must we make
of our reason and of Gospel doctrine that, if certain things be told us
supernaturally, whether at our desire or no, we must receive only that which is
in clear conformity with reason and Gospel law. And then we must receive it,
not because it is revelation, but because it is reason, and not allow ourselves
to be influenced by the fact that it has been revealed. Indeed, it is well in
such a case to look at that reason and examine it very much more closely than
if there had been no revelation concerning it; inasmuch as the devil utters
many things that are true, and that will come to pass, and that are in
conformity with reason, in order that he may deceive.
5.
Wherefore, in all our needs, trials and difficulties, there remains to us no
better and surer means than prayer and hope that God will provide for us, by
such means as He wills. This is the advice given to us in the Scriptures, where
we read that, when King Josaphat was greatly afflicted and surrounded by
enemies, the saintly King gave himself to prayer, saying to God: Cum
ignoremus quid facere debeamus, hoc solum habemus residue, ut oculos nostros
dirigamus ad re.[384] Which is as though he had
said: When means fail and reason is unable to succour us in our necessities, it
remains for us only to lift up our eyes to Thee, that Thou mayest succour us as
is most pleasing to Thee.
6. And
further, although this has also been made clear, it will be well to prove, from
certain passages of Scripture, that, though God may answer such requests, He is
none the less sometimes wroth. In the First Book of the Kings it is said that,
when King Saul begged that the prophet Samuel, who was now dead, might speak to
him, the said prophet appeared to him, and that God was wroth with all this,
since Samuel at once reproved Saul for having done such a thing, saying: Quare
inquietasti me, ut suscitarer?[385] That is: Why hast thou
disquieted me, in causing me to arise? We also know that, in spite of having
answered the children of Israel and given them the meat that they besought of
Him, God was nevertheless greatly incensed against them; for He sent fire from
Heaven upon them as a punishment, as we read in the Pentateuch, and as David
relates in these words: Adhuc escape eorum erant in ore ipsorum, et ira Dei
descendit super cos.[386] Which signifies: Even as
they had the morsels in their months, the wrath of God came down upon them. And
likewise we read in Numbers that God was greatly wroth with Balaam the prophet,
because he went to the Madianites when Balac their king sent for him, although
God had bidden him go, because he desired to go and had begged it of God; and
while he was yet in the way there appeared to him an angel with a sword, who
desired to slay him, and said to him: Perversa est via tua, mihique
contraria.[387] 'Thy way is perverse and
contrary to Me.' For which cause he desired to slay him.
7. After
this manner and many others God deigns to satisfy the desires of souls though
He be wroth with them. Concerning this we have many testimonies in Scripture,
and, in addition, many illustrations, though in a matter that is so clear these
are unnecessary. I will merely say that to desire to commune with God by such
means is a most perilous thing, more so than I can express, and that one who is
affectioned to such methods will not fail to err greatly and will often find
himself in confusion. Anyone who in the past has prized them will understand me
from his own experience. For over and above the difficulty that there is in
being sure that one is not going astray in respect of locutions and visions
which are of God, there are ordinarily many of these locutions and visions
which are of the devil; for in his converse with the soul the devil habitually
wears the same guise as God assumes in His dealings with it, setting before it
things that are very like to those which God communicates to it, insinuating
himself, like the wolf in sheep's clothing, among the flock, with a success so
nearly complete that he can hardly be recognized. For, since he says many
things that are true, and in conformity with reason, and things that come to
pass as he describes them,[388] it is very easy for the
soul to be deceived, and to think that, since these things come to pass as he
says, and the future is correctly foretold, this can be the work of none save
God; for such souls know not that it is a very easy thing for one that has
clear natural light to be acquainted, as to their causes, with things, or with
many of them, which have been or shall be. And since the devil has a very clear
light of this kind, he can very easily deduce effect from cause, although it
may not always turn out as he says, because all causes depend upon the will of
God. Let us take an example.
8. The
devil knows that the constitution of the earth and the atmosphere, and the laws
ruling the sun, are disposed in such manner and in such degree that, when a
certain moment has arrived, it will necessarily follow, according to the laws
of nature laid down for these elements, that they will infect people with
pestilence, and he knows in what places this will be more severe and in what
places less so. Here you have a knowledge of pestilence in respect of its
causes. What a wonderful thing it seems when the devil reveals this to a soul,
saying: 'In a year or in six months from now there will be pestilence,' and it
happens as he says! And yet this is a prophecy of the devil. In the same way he
may have a knowledge of earthquakes, and, seeing that the bowels of the earth
are filling with air, will say: 'At such a time there will be an earthquake.'
Yet this is only natural knowledge, for the possession of which it suffices for
the spirit to be free from the passions of the soul, even as Boetius says in
these words: Si vis claro lumine cernere verum, gaudia pelle, timorem,
spemque fugato, nec dolor adsit.[389] That is: If thou desire to
know truths with the clearness of nature, cast from thee rejoicing and fear and
hope and sorrow.
9. And
likewise supernatural events and happenings may be known, in their causes, in
matters concerning Divine Providence, which deals most justly and surely as is
required by their good or evil causes as regards the sons of men. For one may
know by natural means that such or such a person, or such or such a city, or
some other place, is in such or such necessity, or has reached such or such a
point, so that God, according to His providence and justice, must deal with
such a person or thing in the way required by its cause, and in the way that is
fitting for it, whether by means of punishment or of reward, as the cause
merits. And then one can say: 'At such a time God will give you this, or will
do this, or that will come to pass, of a surety.' It was this that holy Judith
said to Holofernes,[390] when, in order to persuade
him that the children of Israel would without fail be destroyed, she first
related to him many of their sins and the evil deeds that they did. And then
she said: Et, quoniam haec faciunt, certum est quod in perditionem dabuntur.
Which signifies: Since they do these things, it is certain that they will be
destroyed. This is to know the punishment in the cause, and it is as though she
had said: It is certain that such sins must be the cause of such punishments,
at the hand of God Who is most just. And as the Divine Wisdom says: Per quae
quis peccat, per haec et torquetur.[391] With respect to that and
for that wherein a man sins, therein is he punished.
10. The
devil may have knowledge of this, not only naturally, but also by the
experience which he has of having seen God do similar things, and he can
foretell it and do so correctly. Again, holy Tobias was aware of the punishment
of the city of Ninive because of its cause, and he thus admonished his son,
saying: 'Behold, son, in the hour when I and thy mother die, go thou forth from
this land, for it will not remain.' Video enim quia iniquitas ejus finem
dabit ei.[392] I see clearly that its own
iniquity will be the cause of its punishment, which will be that it shall be
ended and destroyed altogether. This might have been known by the devil as well
as by Tobias, not only because of the iniquity of the city, but by experience,
since they had seen that for the sins of the world God destroyed it in the
Flood, and that the Sodomites, too, perished for their sins by fire; but Tobias
knew it also through the Divine Spirit.
11. And
the devil may know that one Peter[393] cannot, in the course of
nature, live more than so many years, and he may foretell this; and so with
regard to many other things and in many ways that it is impossible to recount
fully -- nor can one even begin to recount many of them, since they are most
intricate and subtle -- he insinuates falsehoods; from which a soul cannot free
itself save by fleeing from all revelations and visions and locutions that are
supernatural. Wherefore God is justly angered with those that receive them, for
He sees that it is temerity on their part to expose themselves to such great
peril and presumption and curiosity, and things that spring from pride, and are
the root and foundation of vainglory, and of disdain for the things of God, and
the beginning of many evils to which many have come. Such persons have
succeeded in angering God so greatly that He has of set purpose allowed them to
go astray and be deceived and to blind their own spirits and to leave the
ordered paths of life and give rein to their vanities and fancies, according to
the word of Isaias, where he says: Dominus miscuit in medio ejus spiritum vertiginis.[394] Which is as much to say:
The Lord hath mingled in the midst thereof the spirit of dissension and
confusion. Which in our ordinary vernacular signifies the spirit of
misunderstanding. What Isaias is here very plainly saying is to our purpose,
for he is speaking of those who were endeavouring by supernatural means to know
things that were to come to pass. And therefore he says that God mingled in
their midst the spirit of misunderstanding; not that God willed them, in fact,
to have the spirit of error, or gave it to them, but that they desired to
meddle with that to which by nature they could not attain. Angered by this, God
allowed them to act foolishly, giving them no light as to that wherewith He
desired not that they should concern themselves. And thus the Prophet says that
God mingled that spirit in them, privatively. And in this sense God is the
cause of such an evil -- that is to say, He is the privative cause, which
consists in His withdrawal of His light and favour, to such a point that they
must needs fall into error.
12. And
in this way God gives leave to the devil to blind and deceive many, when their
sins and audacities merit it; and this the devil can do and does successfully,
and they give him credence and believe him to be a good spirit; to such a point
that, although they may be quite persuaded that he is not so, they cannot
undeceive themselves, since, by the permission of God, there has already been
insinuated into them the spirit of misunderstanding, even as we read was the
case with the prophets of King Achab, whom God permitted to be deceived by a
lying spirit, giving the devil leave to deceive them, and saying: Decipies,
et praevalebis; egredere, et fac ita.[395] Which signifies: Thou shalt
prevail with thy falsehood, and shalt deceive them; go forth and do so. And so
well was he able to work upon the prophets and the King, in order to deceive
them, that they would not believe the prophet Micheas, who prophesied the truth
to them, saying the exact contrary of that which the others had prophesied, and
this came to pass because God permitted them to be blinded, since their
affections were attached to that which they desired to happen to them, and God
answered them according to their desires and wishes; and this was a most
certain preparation and means for their being blinded and deceived, which God
allowed of set purpose.
13.
Thus, too, did Ezechiel prophesy in the name of God. Speaking against those who
began to desire to have knowledge direct from God, from motives of curiosity,
according to the vanity of their spirit, he says: When such a man comes to the
prophet to enquire of Me through him, I, the Lord, will answer him by Myself,
and I will set my face in anger against that man; and, as to the prophet, when
he has gone astray in that which was asked of him, Ego Dominus decepi
prophetam illum.[396] That is: I, the Lord, have
deceived that prophet. This is to be taken to mean, by not succouring him with
His favour so that he might not be deceived; and this is His meaning when He
says: I the Lord will answer him by Myself in anger[397] -- that is, God will
withdraw His grace and favour from that man. Hence necessarily follows
deception by reason of his abandonment by God. And then comes the devil and
makes answer according to the pleasure and desire of that man, who, being
pleased thereat, since the answers and communications are according to his
will, allows himself to be deceived greatly.
14. It
may appear that we have to some extent strayed from the purpose that we set
down in the title of this chapter, which was to prove that, although God
answers, He sometimes complains. But, if it be carefully considered, all that
has been said goes to prove or intention; for it all shows that God desires not
that we should wish for such visions, since He makes it possible for us to be
deceived by them in so many ways.
CHAPTER
XXII
Wherein
is solved a difficulty -- namely, why it is not lawful, under the law of grace,
to ask anything of God by supernatural means, as it was under the old law. This
solution is proved by a passage from Saint Paul.
DIFFICULTIES
keep coming to our mind, and thus we cannot progress with the speed that we
should desire. For as they occur to us, we are obliged of necessity to clear
them up, so that the truth of this teaching may ever be plain and carry its
full force. But there is always this advantage in these difficulties, that,
although they somewhat impede our progress, they serve nevertheless to make our
intention the clearer and more explicit,[398] as will be the case with
the present one.
2. In
the previous chapter, we said that it is not the will of God that souls should
desire to receive anything distinctly, by supernatural means, through visions,
locutions, etc. Further, we saw in the same chapter, and deduced from the
testimonies which were there brought forward from Scripture, that such
communion with God was employed in the Old Law and was lawful; and that not
only was it lawful, but God commanded it. And when they used not this
opportunity, God reproved them, as is to be seen in Isaias, where God reproves
the children of Israel because they desired to go down to Egypt without first
enquiring of Him, saying: Et os meum non interrogastis.[399] That is: Ye asked not first
at My own mouth what was fitting. And likewise we read in Josue that, when the
children of Israel themselves are deceived by the Gabaonites, the Holy Spirit
reproves them for this fault, saying: Susceperunt ergo de cibariis eorum, et
os Domini non interrogaverunt.[400] Which signifies: They took
of their victuals and they enquired not at the mouth of God. Furthermore, we
see in the Divine Scripture that Moses always enquired of God, as did King
David and all the kings of Israel with regard to their wars and necessities,
and the priests and prophets of old, and God answered and spake with them and
was not wroth, and it was well done; and if they did it not it would be ill
done; and this is the truth. Why, then, in the new law -- the law of grace --
may it not now be as it was aforetime?
3. To
this it must be replied that the principal reason why in the law of Scripture
the enquiries that were made of God were lawful, and why it was fitting that
prophets and priests should seek visions and revelations of God, was because at
that time faith had no firm foundation, neither was the law of the Gospel
established; and thus it was needful that men should enquire of God and that He
should speak, whether by words or by visions and revelations or whether by
figures and similitudes or by many other ways of expressing His meaning. For
all that He answered and spake and revealed belonged to the mysteries of our
faith and things touching it or leading to it. And, since the things of faith
are not of man, but come from the mouth of God Himself, God Himself reproved
them because they enquired not at His mouth in their affairs, so that He might
answer, and might direct their affairs and happenings toward the faith, of
which at that time they had no knowledge, because it was not yet founded. But
now that the faith is founded in Christ, and in this era of grace, the law of
the Gospel has been made manifest, there is no reason to enquire of Him in that
manner, nor for Him to speak or to answer as He did then. For, in giving us, as
He did, His Son, which is His Word -- and He has no other -- He spake to us all
together, once and for all, in this single Word, and He has no occasion to
speak further.
4. And
this is the sense of that passage with which Saint Paul begins, when he tries
to persuade the Hebrews that they should abandon those first manners and ways
of converse with God which are in the law of Moses, and should set their eyes
on Christ alone, saying: Multifariam multisque modis olim Deus loquens
patribus in Prophetis: novissime autem diebus istis Iocutus est nobis in Filio.[401] And this is as though he
had said: That which God spake of old in the prophets to our fathers, in sundry
ways and divers manners, He has now, at last, in these days, spoken to us once
and for all in the Son. Herein the Apostle declares that God has become, as it
were, dumb, and has no more to say, since that which He spake aforetime, in
part to the prophets, He has now spoken altogether in Him, giving us the All,
which is His Son.
5.
Wherefore he that would now enquire of God, or seek any vision or revelation,
would not only be acting foolishly, but would be committing an offence against
God, by setting his eyes altogether upon Christ, and seeking no new thing or
aught beside. And God might answer him after this manner, saying: If I have
spoken all things to thee in My Word, Which is My Son, and I have no other
word, what answer can I now make to thee, or what can I reveal to thee which is
greater than this? Set thine eyes on Him alone, for in Him I have spoken and
revealed to thee all things, and in Him thou shalt find yet more than that
which thou askest and desirest. For thou askest locutions and revelations,
which are the part; but if thou set thine eyes upon Him, thou shalt find the
whole; for He is My complete locution and answer, and He is all My vision and
all My revelation; so that I have spoken to thee, answered thee, declared to
thee and revealed to thee, in giving Him to thee as thy brother, companion and
master, as ransom and prize. For since that day when I descended upon Him with
My Spirit on Mount Tabor, saying: Hic est filius meus dilectus, in quo mihi
bene complacui, ipsum audite[402] (which is to say: This is
My beloved Son, in Whom I am well pleased; hear ye Him), I have left off all
these manners of teaching and answering, and I have entrusted this to Him. Hear
Him; for I have no more faith to reveal, neither have I any more things to
declare. For, if I spake aforetime, it was to promise Christ; and, if they
enquired of Me, their enquiries were directed to petitions for Christ and
expectancy concerning Him, in Whom they should find every good thing (as is now
set forth in all the teaching of the Evangelists and the Apostles); but now,
any who would enquire of Me after that manner, and desire Me to speak to him or
reveal aught to him, would in a sense be asking Me for Christ again, and asking
Me for more faith, and be lacking in faith, which has already been given in
Christ; and therefore he would be committing a great offence against My beloved
Son, for not only would he be lacking in faith, but he would be obliging Him
again first of all to become incarnate and pass through life and death. Thou
shalt find naught to ask Me, or to desire of Me, whether revelations or
visions; consider this well, for thou shalt find that all has been done for
thee and all has been given to thee -- yea, and much more also -- in Him.
6. If
thou desirest Me to answer thee with any word of consolation, consider My Son,
Who is subject to Me, and bound by love of Me, and afflicted, and thou shalt
see how fully He answers thee. If thou desirest Me to expound to thee secret
things, or happenings, set thine eyes on Him alone, and thou shalt find the
most secret mysteries, and the wisdom and wondrous things of God, which are
hidden in Him, even as My Apostle says: In quo sunt omnes thesauri
sapientiae et scientiae Dei absconditi.[403] That is: In this Son of God
are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge of God. These treasures of
wisdom shall be very much more sublime and delectable and profitable for thee
than the things that thou desiredst to know. Herein the same Apostle gloried,
saying: That he had not declared to them that he knew anything, save Jesus
Christ and Him crucified.[404] And if thou shouldst still
desire other Divine or bodily revelations and visions, look also at Him made
man, and thou shalt find therein more than thou thinkest, for the Apostle says
likewise: In ipso habitat omnis plenitudo Divinitatis corporaliter.[405] Which signifies: In Christ
dwelleth all the fullness of the Godhead bodily.
7. It is
not fitting, then, to enquire of God by supernatural means, nor is it necessary
that He should answer; since all the faith has been given us in Christ, and
there is therefore no more of it to be revealed, nor will there ever be. And he
that now desires to receive anything in a supernatural manner, as we have said,
is, as it were, finding fault with God for not having given us a complete
sufficiency in His Son. For, although such a person may be assuming the faith,
and believing it, nevertheless he is showing a curiosity which belongs to
faithlessness. We must not expect, then, to receive instruction, or aught else,
in a supernatural manner. For, at the moment when Christ gave up the ghost upon
the Cross, saying, Consummatum est,[406] which signifies, 'It is
finished,' an end was made, not only of all these forms, but also of all those
other ceremonies and rites of the Old Law. And so we must now be guided in all
things by the law of Christ made man, and by that of His Church, and of His
ministers, in a human and a visible manner, and by these means we must remedy
our spiritual weaknesses and ignorances, since in these means we shall find
abundant medicine for them all. If we leave this path, we are guilty not only
of curiosity, but of great audacity: nothing is to be believed in a
supernatural way, save only that which is the teaching of Christ made man, as I
say, and of His ministers, who are men. So much so that Saint Paul says these
words: Quod si Angelus de coelo evengelizaverit, praterquam quod
evangelizavimus vobis, anathema sit.[407] That is to say: If any
angel from Heaven preach any other gospel unto you than that which we men
preach unto you, let him be accursed and excommunicate.
8.
Wherefore, since it is true that we must ever be guided by that which Christ
taught us, and that all things else are as nothing, and are not to be believed
unless they are in conformity with it, he who still desires to commune with God
after the manner of the Old Law acts vainly. Furthermore, it was not lawful at
that time for everyone to enquire of God, neither did God answer all men, but
only the priests and prophets, from whose mouths it was that the people had to
learn law and doctrine; and thus, if a man desire to know anything of God, he
enquired of Him through the prophet or the priest and not of God Himself. And,
if David enquired of God at certain times upon his own account, he did this
because he was a prophet, and yet, even so, he did it not without the priestly
vestment as it is clear was the case in the First Book of the Kings, where he
said to Abimelech the priest: Applica ad me Ephod[408] -- which ephod was one of
the priestly vestments, having which he then spake with God. But at other times
he spake with God through the prophet Nathan and other prophets. And by the
mouths of these prophets and of the priests men were to believe that that which
was said to them came from God; they were not to believe it because of their
own opinions.
9. And
thus, men were not authorized or empowered at that time to give entire credence
to what was said by God, unless it were approved by the mouths of priests and
prophets. For God is so desirous that the government and direction of every man
should be undertaken by another man like himself, and that every man should be
ruled and governed by natural reason, that He earnestly desires us not to give
entire credence to the things that He communicates to us supernaturally, nor to
consider them as being securely and completely confirmed until they pass
through this human aqueduct of the mouth of man. And thus, whenever He says or
reveals something to a soul, He gives this same soul to whom He says it a kind
of inclination to tell it to the person to whom it is fitting that it should be
told. Until this has been done, it is not wont to give entire satisfaction,
because the man has not taken it from another man like himself. We see in the
Book of the Judges that the same thing happened to the captain Gedeon, to whom
God had said many times that he should conquer the Madianites, yet he was
fearful and full of doubts (for God had allowed him to retain that weakness)
until he heard from the mouth of men what God had said to him. And it came to
pass that, when God saw he was weak, He said to him: 'Rise up and go down to
the camp.' Et cum audieris quid loquantur, tunc confortabuntur manus tuae,
et securior ad hostium castra descendes.[409] That is: When thou shalt
hear what men are saying there, then shalt thou receive strength in that which
I have said to thee, and thou shalt go down with greater security to the hosts
of the enemy. And so it came to pass that, having heard a dream related by one
of the Madianites to another, wherein the Madianite had dreamed that Gedeon
should conquer them, he was greatly strengthened, and began to prepare for the
battle with great joy. From this it can be seen that God desired not that he
should feel secure, since He gave him not the assurance by supernatural means
alone, but caused him first to be strengthened by natural means.
10. And
even more surprising is the thing that happened in this connection to Moses,
when God had commanded him, and given him many instructions, which He continued
with the signs of the wand changed into a serpent and of the leprous hand,
enjoining him to go and set free the children of Israel. So weak was he and so
uncertain[410] about this going forward
that, although God was angered, he had not the courage to summon up the
complete faith necessary for going, until God encouraged him through his
brother Aaron, saying: Aaron frater tuus Levites, scio quod eloquent sit:
ecce ipse egredietur in occursum tuum, vidensque te, laetabitur corde. Loquere
ad eum, en pone verba mea in ore ejus: et ego ero in ore tuo, et in ore illius,
etc.[411] Which is as though He had
said: I know that thy brother Aaron is an eloquent man: behold, he will come
forth to meet thee, and, when he seeth thee, he will be glad at heart; speak to
him and tell him all My words, and I will be in thy mouth and in his mouth, so
that each of you shall believe that which is in the mouth of the other.
11.
Having heard these words, Moses at once took courage, in the hope of finding
consolation in the counsel which his brother was to give him; for this is a
characteristic of the humble soul, which dares not converse alone with God,
neither can be completely satisfied without human counsel and guidance. And
that this should be given to it is the will of God, for He draws near to those
who come together to converse of truth, in order to expound and confirm it in
them, upon a foundation of natural reason, even as He said that He would do
when Moses and Aaron should come together -- namely, that He would be in the
mouth of the one and in the mouth of the other. Wherefore He said likewise in
the Gospel that Ubi fuerint duo vel tres congregati in nomine meo, ibi sum
ego in medio eorum.[412] That is: Where two or three
have come together, in order to consider that which is for the greater honour
and glory of My name, there am I in the midst of them. That is to say, I will
make clear and confirm in their hearts the truths of God. And it is to be
observed that He said not: Where there is one alone, there will I be; but:
Where there are at least two. In this way He showed that God desires not that
any man by himself alone should believe his experiences to be of God,[413] or should act in conformity
with them, or rely upon them, but rather should believe the Church and[414] her ministers, for God will
not make clear and confirm the truth in the heart of one who is alone, and thus
such a one will be weak and cold.
12.
Hence comes that whereon the Preacher insists, where he says: Vae soli, quia
cum ceciderit, non habet sublevantem se. Si dormierint duo, fovebuntur mutuo;
unus quomodo calefiet? et si quispiam praevaluerit contra unum, duo resistent
ei.[415] Which signifies: Woe to the
man that is alone, for when he falleth he hath none to raise him up. If two
sleep together, the one shall give warmth to the other (that is to say: with
the warmth of God Who is between them); but one alone, how shall he be warm?
That is to say: How shall he be other than cold as to the things of God? And if
any man can fight and prevail against one enemy (that is, the devil, who can
fight and prevail against those that are alone and desire to be alone as
regards the things of God), two men together will resist him -- that is, the
disciple and the master[416] who come together to know
and dost the truth. And until this happens such a man is habitually weak and
feeble in the truth, however often he may have heard it from God; so much so
that, despite the many occasions on which Saint Paul preached the Gospel, which
he said that he had heard, not of men, but of God, he could not be satisfied
until he had gone to consult with Saint Peter and the Apostles, saying: Ne
forte in vacuum currerem, aut cucurrissem.[417] Which signifies: Perchance
he should run, or had run, in vain, having no assurance of himself, until man
had given him assurance. This seems a noteworthy thing, O Paul, that He Who
revealed to thee this Gospel could not likewise reveal to thee the assurance of
the fault which thou mightest have committed in preaching the truth concerning
Him.
13.
Herein it is clearly shown that a man must not rely upon the things that God
reveals, save in the way that we are describing; for, even in cases where a
person is in possession of certainty, as Saint Paul was certain of his Gospel
(since he had already begun to preach it), yet, although the revelation be of
God, man may still err with respect to it, or in things relating to it. For,
although God reveals one thing, He reveals not always the other; and oftentimes
He reveals something without revealing the way in which it is to be done. For
ordinarily He neither performs nor reveals anything that can be accomplished by
human counsel and effort, although He may commune with the soul for a long
time, very lovingly. Of this Saint Paul was very well aware, since, as we say,
although he knew that the Gospel was revealed to him by God, he went to take
counsel with Saint Peter. And we see this clearly in the Book of Exodus, where
God had communed most familiarly with Moses, yet had never given him that
salutary counsel which was given him by his father-in-law Jethro -- that is to
say, that he should choose other judges to assist him, so that the people
should not be waiting from morning till night.[418] This counsel God approved,
though it was not He Who had given it to him, for it was a thing that fell
within the limits of human judgment and reason. With respect to Divine visions
and revelations and locutions, God is not wont to reveal them, for He is ever
desirous that men should make such use of their own reason as is possible, and
all such things have to be governed by reason, save those that are of faith,
which transcend all judgment and reason, although these are not contrary to
faith.
14.
Wherefore let none think that, because it may be true that God and the saints
commune with him familiarly about many things, they will of necessity explain
to him the faults that he commits with regard to anything, if it be possible
for him to recognize these faults by other means. He can have no assurance about
this; for, as we read came to pass in the Acts of the Apostles, Saint Peter,
though a prince of the Church, who was taught directly by God, went astray
nevertheless with respect to a certain ceremony that was in use among the
Gentiles, and God was silent. So far did he stray that Saint Paul reproved him,
as he affirms, saying: Cum vidissem, quod non recte ad veritatem Evangelii
ambularent, dixi coram omnibus: Si tu judaeus cum sis, gentiliter vivis,
quomodo Gentes cogis judaizare?[419] Which signifies: When I saw
(says Saint Paul) that the disciples walked not uprightly according to the
truth of the Gospel, I said to Peter before them all: If thou, being a Jew, as
thou art, livest after the manner of the Gentiles, how feignest thou to force
the Gentiles to live as do the Jews? And God reproved not Saint Peter Himself
for this fault, for that stimulation was a thing that had to do with reason,
and it was possible for him to know it by rational means.
15.
Wherefore on the day of judgment God will punish for their many faults and sins
many souls with whom He may quite habitually have held converse here below, and
to whom He may have given much light and virtue; for, as to those things that
they have known that they ought to do, they have been neglectful, and have
relied upon that converse that they have had with God and upon the virtue that
He has given them. And thus, as Christ says in the Gospel, they will marvel at
that time, saying: Domine, Domine, nonne in nomine tuo prophetavimus, et in nomine
tuo daemonia ejecimus, et in nomine tuo virtutes multas fecimus?[420] That is: Lord, Lord, were
the prophecies that Thou spakest to us perchance not prophesied in Thy name?
And in Thy name cast we not out devils? And in Thy name performed we not many
miracles and mighty works? And the Lord says that He will answer them in these
words: Et tunc confitebor illis, quia numquam novi vos: discedite a me omnes
qui operamini iniquitatem.[421] That is to say: Depart from
Me, ye workers of iniquity, for I never knew you. Of the number of these was
the prophet Balaam and others like to him, who, though God spake with them and
gave them thanks, were sinners. But the Lord will likewise give their
proportion of reproof to His friends and chosen ones, with whom He communed
familiarly here below, as to the faults and sins of neglect that they may have
committed; whereof there was no need that God should Himself warn them, since
He had already warned them through the natural reason and law that He had given
to them.
16. In
concluding this part of my subject, therefore, I say, and I infer from what has
already been said, that anything, of whatsoever kind, received by the soul
through supernatural means, must clearly and plainly, fully and simply, be at
once communicated to the spiritual director. For although there may seem no
reason to speak of it, or to spend time upon doing so, since the soul is acting
safely, as we have said, if it rejects it and neither pays heed to it nor
desires it -- especially if it be a question of visions or revelations or other
supernatural communications, which are either quite clear or very nearly so --
nevertheless, it is very necessary to give an account of all these, although it
may seem to the soul that there is no reason for so doing. And this for three
causes. First, because, as we have said, God communicates many things, the
effect, power, light and certainty whereof He confirms not wholly in the soul,
until, as we have said, the soul consults him whom God has given to it as a
spiritual judge, which is he that has the power to bind or to loose, and to
approve or to blame, as we have shown by means of the passages quoted above;
and we can show it clearly by experience, for we see humble souls to whom these
things come to pass, and who, after discussing them with the proper persons,
experience a new satisfaction, power, light and certainty; so much so that to
some it seems that they have no effect upon them, nor do they even belong to
them, until they have communicated them to the director, whereupon they are
given to them anew.
17. The
second cause is that the soul habitually needs instruction upon the things that
come to pass within it, so that it may be led by that means to spiritual
poverty and detachment, which is the dark night. For if it begins to relinquish
this instruction -- even when it desires not the things referred to -- it will
gradually, without realizing it, become callous as it treads the spiritual
road, and draw near again to the road of sense; and it is partly with respect
to this that these distinct things happen.
18. The
third cause is that, for the sake of the humility and submission and
mortification of the soul, it is well to relate everything to the director,
even though he make[422] no account of it all and
consider it of no importance. There are some souls who greatly dislike speaking
of such things, because they think them to be unimportant, and know not how the
person to whom they should relate them will receive them; but this is lack of
humility, and for that very reason it is needful for them to submit themselves
and relate these things. And there are others who are very timid in relating
them, because they see no reason why they should have these experiences, which
seem to belong to saints, as well as other things which they are sorry to have
to describe; for which cause they think there is no reason to speak of them
because they make no account of them; but for this very reason it is well for
them to mortify themselves and relate them, until in time they come to speak of
them humbly, unaffectedly, submissively and readily, and after this they will
always find it easy to do so.
19. But,
with respect to what has been said, it must be pointed out that, although we
have insisted so much that such things should be set aside, and that confessors
should not encourage their penitents to discuss them, it is not well that
spiritual fathers should show displeasure in regard to them, or should seek to
avoid speaking of them or despise them, or make their penitents reserved and
afraid to mention them, for it would be the means of causing them many
inconveniences if the door were closed upon their relating them. For, since
they are a means and manner whereby God guides such souls, there is no reason
for thinking ill of them or for being alarmed or scandalized by them; but
rather there is a reason for proceeding very quietly and kindly, for
encouraging these souls and giving them an opportunity to speak of these
things; if necessary, they must be exhorted to speak; and, in view of the
difficulty that some souls experience in describing such matters, this is
sometimes quite essential. Let confessors direct their penitents into faith,[423] advising them frankly to
turn away their eyes from all such things, teaching them how to void the desire
and the spirit of them, so that they may make progress, and giving them to understand
how much more precious in God's sight is one work or act of the will performed
in charity than are all the visions and communications that they may receive
from Heaven, since these imply neither merit nor demerit. Let them point out,
too, that many souls who have known nothing of such things have made
incomparably greater progress than others who have received many of them.
CHAPTER
XXIII
Which
begins to treat of the apprehensions of the understanding that come in a purely
spiritual way, and describes their nature.
ALTHOUGH
the instruction that we have given with respect to the apprehensions of the
understanding which come by means of sense is somewhat brief, in comparison
with what might be said about them, I have not desired to write of them at
greater length; I believe, indeed, that I have already been too lengthy for the
fulfillment of my present intention, which is to disencumber the understanding
of them and direct the soul into the night of faith. Wherefore we shall now
begin to treat of those other four apprehensions of the understanding, which,
as we said in the tenth chapter,[424] are purely spiritual --
namely, visions, revelations, locutions and spiritual feelings. These we call
purely spiritual, for they do not (as do those that are corporeal and
imaginary) communicate themselves to the understanding by way of the corporeal
senses; but, without the intervention of any inward or outward corporeal sense,
they present themselves to the understanding, clearly and distinctly, by
supernatural means, passively -- that is to say, without the performance of any
act or operation on the part of the soul itself, at the least actively.
2. It
must be known, then, that, speaking broadly and in general terms, all these
four apprehensions may be called visions of the soul; for we term the
understanding of the soul also its sight. And since all these apprehensions are
intelligible to the understanding, they are described, in a spiritual sense, as
'visible.' And thus the kinds of intelligence that are formed in the
understanding may be called intellectual visions. Now, since all the objects of
the other senses, which are all that can be seen, and all that can be heard,
and all that can be smelt and tasted and touched, are objects of the
understanding in so far as they fall within the limits of truth or falsehood,
it follows that, just as to the eyes of the body all that is visible in a bodily
way causes bodily vision, even so, to the spiritual eyes of the soul -- namely,
the understanding -- all that is intelligible causes spiritual vision; for, as
we have said, for the soul to understand is for it to see. And thus, speaking
generally, we may call these four apprehensions visions. This cannot be said,
however, of the other senses, for no one of them is capable, as such, of
receiving the object of another one.
3. But,
since these apprehensions present themselves to the soul in the same way as
they do to the various senses, it follows that, speaking properly and
specifically, we shall describe that which the understanding receives by means
of sight (because it can see things spiritually, even as the eyes can see
bodily) as a vision; and that which it receives by apprehending and
understanding new things (as it were through the hearing, when it hears things
that are not heard) we describe as revelation; and that which it receives by
means of hearing we call locution; and that which it receives through the other
senses, such as the perception of sweet spiritual fragrance, and spiritual
taste and of spiritual delight which the soul may joy supernaturally, we call
spiritual feelings. From all these the soul derives spiritual vision or
intelligence, without any kind of apprehension concerning form, image or figure
of natural fancy or imagination; these things are communicated to the soul
directly by supernatural means and a supernatural process.
4. Of
these, likewise (even as we said of the other imaginary corporeal
apprehensions), it is well that we should here disencumber the understanding,
leading and directing it by means of them into the spiritual night of faith, to
the Divine and substantial union of God; lest, by letting such things encumber
and stultify it, it should be hindered upon the road to solitude and detachment
from all things, which is necessary to that end. For, although these
apprehensions are nobler and more profitable and much more certain than those
which are corporeal and imaginary, inasmuch as they are interior and purely
spiritual, and are those which the devil is least able to counterfeit, since
they are communicated to the soul more purely and subtly without any effort of
its own or of the imagination, at least actively, yet not only may the
understanding be encumbered by them upon this road, but it is possible for it,
through its own imprudence, to be sorely deceived.
5. And
although, in one sense, we might conclude with these four kinds of
apprehension, by treating them all together and giving advice which applies to
them all, as we have given concerning all the others -- namely, that they
should neither be desired nor aspired to -- yet, since we shall presently throw
more light upon the way in which this is to be done, and certain things will be
said in connection with them, it will be well to treat of each one of them in
particular, and thus we shall now speak of the first apprehensions, which are
intellectual or spiritual visions.
CHAPTER
XXIV
Which
treats of two kinds of spiritual vision that come supernaturally.
SPEAKING
now strictly of those visions which are spiritual, and are received without the
intervention of any bodily sense, I say that there are two kinds of vision than
can be received by the understanding: the one kind is of corporeal substances;
the other, of incorporeal or separated substances. The corporeal visions have
respect to all material things that are in Heaven and on earth, which the soul
is able to see, even while it is still in the body, by the aid of a certain
supernatural illumination, derived from God, wherein it is able to see all
things that are not present, both in Heaven and on earth, even as Saint John
saw, as we read in the twenty-first chapter of the Apocalypse, where he
describes and relates the excellence of the celestial Jerusalem, which he saw
in Heaven. Even so, again, we read of Saint Benedict that in a spiritual vision
he saw the whole world.[425] This vision, says Saint
Thomas in the first of his Quodlibets, was in the light that is derived from
above, as we have said.
2. The
other visions, which are of incorporeal substances, cannot be seen by the aid
of this derived illumination, whereof we are here speaking, but only by another
and a higher illumination which is called the illumination of glory. And thus
these visions of incorporeal substances, such as angels and soul, are not of
this life, neither can they be seen in the mortal body; for, if God were
pleased to communicate them to the soul, in essence as they are, the soul would
at once go forth from the flesh and would be loosed from this mortal life. For
this reason God said to Moses, when he entreated Him to show him His Essence: Non
videbit me homo, et vivet.[426] That is: Man shall not see
Me and be able to remain alive. Wherefore, when the children of Israel thought
that they were to see God, or had seen Him, or some angel, they feared death,
as we read in the Book of Exodus, where, fearing these things, they said: Non
loquatur nobis Dominus, ne forte moriamur.[427] As if they had said: Let
not God communicate Himself to us openly, lest we die. And likewise in the Book
of Judges, Manue, father of Samson, thought that he and his wife had seen in
essence the angel who spake with them (and who had appeared to them in the form
of a most beautiful man) and he said to his wife: Morte moriemur, quida
vidimus Dominum.[428] Which signifies: We shall
die, because we have seen the Lord.[429]
3. And
thus these visions occur not in this life, save occasionally and fleetingly,
when, making an exception to the conditions which govern our natural life, God
so allows it. At such times He totally withdraws the spirit from this life, and
the natural functions of the body are supplied by His favour. This is why, at
the time when it is thought that Saint Paul saw these (namely, the incorporeal
substances in the third heaven), that Saint says: Sive in corpore, nescio,
sive extra corpus, nescio, Deus scit.[430] That is, he was raptured,
and of that which he saw he says that he knows not if it was in the body or out
of the body, but that God knows. Herein it is clearly seen that the limits of
natural means of communication were passed, and that this was the work of God.
Likewise, it is believed that God showed His Essence to Moses, for we read that
God said to him that He would set him in the cleft of the rock, and would
protect him, by covering him with His right hand, and protecting him so that he
should not die when His glory passed; the which glory passed indeed, and was
shown to him fleetingly, and the natural life of Moses was protected by the
right hand of God.[431] But these visions that were
so substantial -- like that of Saint Paul and Moses, and that of our father
Elias, when he covered his face at the gentle whisper of God -- although they
are fleeting, occur only very rarely -- indeed, hardly ever and to very few;
for God performs such a thing in those that are very strong in the spirit of
the Church and the law of God, as were the three men named above.
4. But,
although these visions of spiritual substances cannot be unveiled and be
clearly seen in this life by the understanding, they can nevertheless be felt
in the substance of the soul, with the sweetest touches and unions, all of
which belongs to spiritual feelings, whereof, with the Divine favour, we shall
treat presently; for our pen is being directed and guided to these -- that is
to say, to the Divine bond and union of the soul with Divine Substance. We
shall speak of this when we treat of the dark and confused mystical
understanding which remains to be described, wherein we shall show how, by
means of this dark and loving knowledge, God is united with the soul in a lofty
and Divine degree;[432] for, after some manner,
this dark and loving knowledge, which is faith, serves as a means to Divine
union in this life, even as, in the next life, the light of glory serves as an
intermediary to the clear vision of God.
5. Let
us, then, now treat of the visions of corporeal substances, received
spiritually in the soul, which come after the manner of bodily visions. For,
just as the eyes see bodily visions by means of natural light, even so does the
soul, through the understanding, by means of supernaturally derived light, as
we have said, see those same natural things inwardly, together with others, as
God wills; the difference between the two kinds of vision is only in the mode
and manner of them. For spiritual and intellectual visions are much clearer and
subtler than those which pertain to the body. For, when God is pleased to grant
this favour to the soul, He communicates to it that supernatural light whereof
we speak, wherein the soul sees the things that God wills it to see, easily and
most clearly, whether they be of Heaven or of earth, and the absence or
presence of them is no hindrance to the vision. And it is at times as though a
door were opened before it into a great brightness, through which the soul sees
a light, after the manner of a lightning flash, which, on a dark night, reveals
things suddenly, and causes them to be clearly and distinctly seen, and then
leaves them in darkness, although the forms and figures of them remain in the
fancy. This comes to pass much more perfectly in the soul, because those things
that the spirit has seen in that light remain impressed upon it in such a way
that whensoever it observes them it sees them in itself as it saw them before;
even as in a mirror the forms that are in it are seen whensoever a man looks in
it, and in such a way that those forms of the things that he has seen are never
wholly removed from his soul, although in course of time they become somewhat
remote.
6. The
effect which these visions produce in the soul is that of quiet, illumination,
joy like that of glory, sweetness, purity and love, humility and inclination or
elevation of the spirit in God; sometimes more so, at other times less; with
sometimes more of one thing, at other times more of another, according to the
spirit wherein they are received and according as God wills.
7. The
devil likewise can produce these visions, by means of a certain natural light,
whereby he brings things clearly before the mind, through spiritual suggestion,
whether they be present or absent. There is that passage in Saint Matthew,
which says of the devil and Christ: Ostendit omnia regna mundi, et gloriam
eorum.[433] That is so say: He showed
Him all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them. Concerning this
certain doctors say that he did it by spiritual suggestion,[434] for it was not possible to
make Him see so much with the bodily eyes as all the kingdoms of the world and
the glory of them. But there is much difference between these visions that are
caused by the devil and those that are of God. For the effects produced in the
soul by the devil's visions are not like those produced by good visions; the
former produce aridity of spirit as to communion with God and an inclination to
esteem oneself highly, and to receive and set store by the visions aforesaid,
and in no wise do they produce the gentleness of humility and love of God.
Neither do the forms of such visions remain impressed upon the soul with the
sweetness and brightness of the others; nor do they last, but are quickly
effaced from the soul, save when the soul greatly esteems them, in which case
this high esteem itself causes it to recall them naturally, but with great
aridity of spirit, and without producing that effect of love and humility which
is produced by good visions when the soul recalls them.
8. These
visions, inasmuch as they are of creatures, wherewith God has no essential
conformity or proportion, cannot serve the understanding as a proximate means
to union with God. And thus the soul must conduct itself in a purely negative
way concerning them, as in the other things that we have described, in order
that it may progress by the proximate means -- namely, by faith. Wherefore the
soul must make no store of treasure of the forms of such visions as remain
impressed upon it, neither must it lean upon them; for to do this would be to
be encumbered with those forms, images and persons which remain inwardly within
it, and thus the soul would not progress toward God by denying itself all
things. For, even if these forms should be permanently set before the soul,
they will not greatly hinder this progress, if the soul has no desire to set
store by them. For, although it is true that the remembrance of them impels the
soul to a certain love of God and contemplation, yet it is impelled and exalted
much more by pure faith and detachment in darkness from them all, without its
knowing how or whence it comes to it. And thus it will come to pass that the
soul will go forward, enkindled with yearnings of purest love for God, without
knowing whence they come to it, or on what they are founded. The fact is that,
while faith has become ever more deeply rooted and infused in the soul by means
of that emptiness and darkness and detachment from all things, or spiritual
poverty, all of which may be spoken of as one and the same thing, at the same
time the charity of God has become rooted and infused in the soul ever more
deeply also. Wherefore, the more the soul desires obscurity and annihilation
with respect to all the outward or inward things that it is capable of
receiving, the more is it infused by faith, and, consequently, by love and
hope, since all these three theological virtues go together.
9. But
at certain times the soul neither understands this love nor feels it; for this
love resides, not in sense, with its tender feelings, but in the soul, with
fortitude and with a courage and daring that are greater than they were before,
though sometimes it overflows into sense and produces gentle and tender
feelings. Wherefore, in order to attain to that love, joy and delight which
such visions produce and cause in the soul, it is well that soul should have
fortitude and mortification and love, so that it may desire to remain in
emptiness and darkness as to all things, and to build its love and joy upon
that which it neither sees nor feels, neither can see nor feel in this life,
which is God, Who is incomprehensible and transcends all things. It is well,
then, for us to journey to Him by denying ourselves everything. For otherwise,
even if the soul be so wise, humble and strong that the devil cannot deceive it
by visions or cause it to fall into some sin of presumption, as he is wont to
do, he will not allow it to make progress; for he set obstacles in the way of
spiritual detachment and poverty of spirit and emptiness in faith, which is the
essential condition for union of the soul with God.
10. And,
as the same teaching that we gave in the nineteenth and twentieth chapters,
concerning supernatural apprehensions and visions of sense, holds good for
these visions, we shall not spend more time here in describing them.
CHAPTER
XXV
Which
treats of revelations, describing their nature and making a distinction between
them.
ACCORDING
to the order which we are here following, we have next to treat of the second
kind of spiritual apprehension, which we have described above as revelations,
and which properly belongs to the spirit of prophecy. With respect to this, it
must first be known that revelation is naught else than the discovery of some
hidden truth or the manifestation of some secret or mystery. Thus God may cause
the soul to understand something by making clear to the understanding the truth
concerning it, or He may reveal to the soul certain things which He is doing or
proposes to do.
2.
Accordingly, we may say that there are two kinds of revelation. The first is
the disclosure to the understanding of truths which are properly called
intellectual knowledge or intelligence; the second is the manifestation of
secrets, which are called revelations with more propriety than the others. For
the first kind cannot strictly be called revelations, since they consist in
this, that God causes the soul to understand naked truths, not only with
respect to temporal things, but likewise with respect to spiritual things,
revealing them to the soul clearly and openly. These I have desired to treat
under the heading of revelations: first, because they have close kinship and
similarity with them: secondly, in order not to multiply distinctions.
3.
According to this method, then, we shall now be well able to divide revelations
into two kinds of apprehension. The one kind we shall call intellectual
knowledge, and the other, the manifestation of secrets and hidden mysteries of
God. With these we shall conclude in two chapters as briefly as we may, and in
this chapter following we shall treat of the first.
CHAPTER
XXVI
Which
treats of the intuition of naked truths in the understanding, explaining how
they are of two kinds and how the soul is to conduct itself with respect to
them.
IN
order to speak properly of this intuition of naked truths which is conveyed to
the understanding, the writer would need God to take his hand and to guide his
pen; for know, dear reader, that what they are to the soul cannot be expressed
in words. But, since I speak not of them here of set purpose, but only that
through them I may instruct the soul and lead it to Divine union, I shall
suffer myself to speak of them here in a brief and modified form, as is
sufficient for the fulfillment of that intention.
2. This
kind of vision (or, to speak more properly, of knowledge of naked truths) is
very different from that of which we have just spoken in the twenty-fourth
chapter. For it is not like seeing bodily things with the understanding; it
consists rather in comprehending and seeing with the understanding the truths
of God, whether of things that are, that have been or that will be, which is in
close conformity with the spirit of prophecy, as perchance we shall explain
hereafter.
3. Here
it is to be observed that this kind of knowledge is distinguishable according
to two divisions: the one kind comes to the soul with respect to the Creator;
the other with respect to creatures, as we have said. And, although both kinds
are very delectable to the soul, yet the delight caused in it by the kind that
relates to God is comparable to nothing whatsoever, and there are no words or
terms wherein it can be described. This kind of knowledge is of God Himself,
and the delight is in God Himself, whereof David says: 'There is naught soever
like to Him.'[435] For this kind of knowledge
comes to the soul in direct relation to God, when the soul, after a most lofty
manner, has a perception of some attribute of God -- of His omnipotence, of His
might, of His goodness and sweetness, etc.; and, whensoever it has such a
perception, that which is perceived cleaves to the soul. Inasmuch as this is
pure contemplation, the soul clearly sees that there is no way wherein it can
say aught concerning it, save to speak in certain general terms, of the
abundance of delight and blessing which it has felt, and this is expressed by
souls that experience it; but not to the end that what the soul has experienced
and perceived may be wholly apprehended.
4. And
thus David, speaking for himself when something of this kind had happened to
him, used only common and general terms, saying: Judicia Domini vera,
justificata in semetipsa. Desiderabilia super aurum et lapidem pretiosum
multum; et dulciora super mel et favum.[436] Which signifies: The
judgments of God -- that is, the virtues and attributes which we perceive in
God -- are in themselves true, justified, more to be desired than gold and very
much more than precious stones, and sweeter than the honeycomb and honey. And
concerning Moses we read that, when God gave him a most lofty manifestation of
knowledge from Himself on an occasion when He passed before him, he said only
that which can be expressed in the common terms above mentioned. And it was so
that, when the Lord passed before him in that manifestation of knowledge, Moses
quickly prostrated himself upon the ground, saying: Dominator Domine Deus,
misericors et clemens, patiens, et multae miserationis, ac verax. Qui custodis
misericordiam in millia.[437] Which signifies: Ruler,[438] Lord, God, merciful and
clement, patient, and of great compassion, and true, that keepest mercy
promised unto thousands. Here it is seen that Moses could not express that which
he had learned from God in one single manifestation of knowledge, and therefore
he expressed and gave utterance to it in all these words. And although at
times, when such knowledge is given to a soul, words are used, the soul is well
aware that it has expressed no part of what it has felt; for it knows that
there is no fit name by which it can name it. And thus Saint Paul, when he was
granted that lofty knowledge of God, made no attempt to describe it, saying
only that it was not lawful for man to speak of it.
5. These
Divine manifestations of knowledge which have respect to God never relate to
particular matters, inasmuch as they concern the Chief Beginning, and therefore
can have no particular reference, unless it be a question of some truth
concerning a thing less than God, which is involved in the perception of the
whole; but these Divine manifestations themselves -- no, in no way whatsoever.
And these lofty manifestations of knowledge can come only to the soul that
attains to union with God, for they are themselves that union; and to receive
them is equivalent to a certain contact with the Divinity which the soul
experiences, and thus it is God Himself Who is perceived and tasted therein.
And, although He cannot be experienced manifestly and clearly, as in glory,
this touch of knowledge and delight is nevertheless so sublime and profound
that it penetrates the substance of the soul, and the devil cannot meddle with
it or produce any manifestation like to it, for there is no such thing, neither
is there aught that compares with it, neither can he infuse pleasure or delight
that is like to it; for such kinds of knowledge savour of the Divine Essence
and of eternal life, and the devil cannot counterfeit a thing so lofty.
6.
Nevertheless he might make some pretence of imitating it, by representing to
the soul certain great matters and things which enchant the senses and can
readily be perceived by them, and endeavoring to persuade the soul that these
are God; but he cannot do this in such wise that they enter into the substance
of the soul and of a sudden renew it and enkindle it with love, as do the
manifestations of God. For there are certain kinds of knowledge, and certain of
these touches effected by God in the substance of the soul, which enrich it
after such wise that not only does one of them suffice to take from the soul
once and for all the whole of the imperfections that it had itself been unable
to throw off during its whole life, but it leaves the soul full of virtues and
blessings from God.
7. And these
touches are so delectable to the soul, and the delight they produce is so
intimate, that if it received only one of them it would consider itself well
rewarded for all the trials that it had suffered in this life, even had they
been innumerable; and it is so greatly encouraged and given such energy to
suffer many things for God's sake that it suffers especially in seeing that it
is not suffering more.
8. The
soul cannot attain to these lofty degrees of knowledge by means of any
comparison or imagination of its own, because they are loftier than all these;
and so God works them in the soul without making use of its own capacities.
Wherefore, at certain times, when the soul is least thinking of it and least
desiring it, God is wont to give it these Divine touches, by causing it certain
remembrances of Himself. And these are sometimes suddenly caused in the soul by
its mere recollection of certain things -- sometimes of very small things. And
they are so readily perceived that at times they cause not only the soul, but
also the body, to tremble. But at other times they come to pass in the spirit
when it is very tranquil, without any kind of trembling, but with a sudden
sense of delight and spiritual refreshment.
9. At
other times, again, they come when the soul repeats or hears some word, perhaps
from Scripture or possibly from some other source; but they are not always
equally efficacious and sensible, for oftentimes they are extremely faint; yet,
however faint they may be, one of these recollections and touches of God is
more profitable to the soul than many other kinds of knowledge or many
meditations upon the creatures and the works of God. And, since these
manifestations of knowledge come to the soul suddenly, and independently of its
own free will, it must neither desire to have them, nor desire not to have
them; but must merely be humble and resigned concerning them, and God will
perform His work how and when He wills.
10. And
I say not that the soul should behave in the same negative manner with regard
to these apprehensions as with regard to the rest, for, as we have said, they
are a part of the union towards which we are leading the soul, to which end we
are teaching it to detach and strip itself of all other apprehensions. And the
means by which God will do this must be humility and suffering for love of God
with resignation as regards all reward; for these favours are not granted to
the soul which still cherishes attachments, inasmuch as they are granted
through a very special love of God toward the soul which loves Him likewise
with great detachment. It is to this that the Son of God referred, in Saint
John, when He said: Qui autem diligit rag, diligetur a Patre meo, et ego
diligam eum, et manifestabo ei me ipsum.[439] Which signifies: He that
loves Me shall be loved by My Father, and I will love him and will manifest
Myself to him. Herein are included the kinds of knowledge and touches to which
we are referring, which God manifests to the soul that truly loves Him.
11. The
second kind of knowledge or vision of interior truths is very different from
this that we have described, since it is of things lower than God. And herein
is included the perception of the truth of things in themselves, and that of
the events and happenings which come to pass among men. And this knowledge is
of such a kind that, when the soul learns these truths, they sink into it,
independently of any suggestion from without, to such an extent that, although
it may be given a different interpretation of them, it cannot make inward
assent to this, even though it endeavor to do so by putting forth a great
effort; for within the spirit it is learning otherwise through the spirit that
is teaching it that thing, which is equivalent to seeing it clearly. This
pertains to the spirit of prophecy and to the grace which Saint Paul calls the
gift of the discernment of spirits.[440] Yet, although the soul
holds something which it understands to be quite certain and true, as we have
said, and although it may be unable to cease giving it that passive interior
consent, it must not therefore cease to believe and to give the consent of
reason to that which its spiritual director tells it and commands it, even
though this may be quite contrary to its own feelings, so that it may be
directed in faith to Divine union, to which a soul must journey by believing
rather than by understanding.
12.
Concerning both these things we have clear testimonies in Scripture. For, with
respect to the spiritual knowledge of things that may be acquired, the Wise Man
says these words: Ipse dedit mihi horum, quae sunt, scientiam veram, ut
sciam dispositionem orbis terrarum, et virtutes elementorum, initium et
consummationem temporum, viccissitudinum permutationes, et consummationes
temporum, et morum mutationes, divisiones temporum, et anni cursus, et
stellarum dispositiones, naturas animalium et iras bestiarum, vim ventorum, et
cogitationes hominum, differentias virgultorum, et virtutes radicum, et
quaecumque sunt abscondita, et improvisa didici: omnium enim artifex docuit me
sapientia.[441] Which signifies: God hath
given me true knowledge of things that are: to know the disposition of the
round world[442] and the virtues of the
elements; the beginning, and ending, and midst of the times, the alterations in
the changes and the consummations of the seasons, and the changes of customs,
the divisions of the seasons, the courses of the year and the dispositions of
the stars; the natures of animals, and the furies of the beasts, the strength
and virtue of the winds, and the thoughts of men; the diversities in plants and
trees and the virtues of roots and all things that are hidden, and those that
are not foreseen: all these I learned, for Wisdom, which is the worker of all
things, taught me. And although this knowledge which the Wise Man here says
that God gave him concerning all things was infused and general, the passage
quoted furnishes sufficient evidence for all particular kinds of knowledge which
God infuses into souls, by supernatural means, when He wills. And this not that
He may give them a general habit of knowledge as He gave to Solomon in the
matters aforementioned; but that He may reveal to them at times certain truths
with respect to any of all these things that the Wise Man here enumerates.
Although it is true that into many souls Our Lord infuses habits which relate
to many things, yet these are never of so general a kind as they were in the
case of Solomon. The differences between them are like to those between the
gifts distributed by God which are enumerated by Saint Paul; among these he
sets wisdom, knowledge, faith, prophecy, discernment or knowledge of spirits,
understanding of tongues, interpretation of spoken words, etc.[443] All these kinds of
knowledge are infused habits, which God gives freely to whom He will, whether
naturally or supernaturally; naturally, as to Balaam, to other idolatrous prophets
and to many sybils, to whom He gave the spirit of prophecy; and supernaturally,
as to the holy prophets and apostles and other saints.
13. But
over and above these habits or graces freely bestowed,[444] what we say is that persons
who are perfect or are making progress in perfection are wont very commonly to
receive enlightenment and knowledge of things present or absent; these they
know through their spirit, which is already enlightened and purged. We can
interpret that passage from the Proverbs in this sense, namely: Quomodo in
aquis resplendent vultus prospicientium sic corda hominum manifesta sunt
proudentibus.[445] Even as there appear in the
waters the faces of those that look therein, so the hearts of men are manifest
to the prudent. This is understood of those that have the wisdom of saints,
which the sacred Scripture calls prudence. And in this way these spirits
sometimes learn of other things also, although not whensoever they will; for
this belongs only to those that have the habit, and even to these it belongs
not always and with respect to all things, for it depends upon God's will to
help them.
14. But
it must be known that those whose spirits are purged can learn by natural means
with great readiness, and some more readily than others, that which is in the
inward spirit or heart, and the inclinations and talents of men, and this by
outward indications, albeit very slight ones, as words, movements and other
signs. For, even as the devil can do this, since he is spirit, even so likewise
can the spiritual man, according to the words of the Apostle, who says: Spiritualis
autem judicat omnia.[446] 'He that is spiritual
judgeth all things.' And again he says: Spiritus enim omnia scrutatur, etiam
profunda Dei.[447] 'The spirit searcheth all
things, yea, the deep things of God.' Wherefore, although spiritual persons
cannot by nature know thoughts, or things that are in the minds of others,[448] they may well interpret
them through supernatural enlightenment or by signs. And, although they may
often be deceived in their interpretation of signs, they are more generally
correct. Yet we must trust neither to the one means nor to the other, for the devil
meddles herein greatly, and with much subtlety, as we shall afterwards say, and
thus we must ever renounce such kinds of knowledge.
15. And
that spiritual persons may have knowledge of the deeds and happenings of men,
even though they be elsewhere, we have witness and example in the Fourth Book
of the Kings, where Giezi, the servant of our father Eliseus, desired to hide
from him the money which he had received from Naaman the Syrian, and Eliseus
said: Nonne cor meum in praesenti erat, quando reversus est homo de curru
suo in occursum tui?[449] 'Was not my heart perchance
present, when Naaman turned back from his chariot and went to meet thee? This
happens spiritually; the spirit sees it as though it were happening in its presence.
And the same thing is proved in the same book, where we read likewise of the
same Eliseus, that, knowing all that the King of Syria did with his princes in
his privy chamber, he told it to the King of Israel, and thus the counsels of
the King of Syria were of no effect; so much so that, when the King of Syria
saw that all was known, he said to his people: Why do ye not tell me which of
you is betraying me to the King of Israel? And then one of his servants said: Nequaquam,
Domine mi Rex, sed Eliseus Propheta, qui est in Israel, indicat Regi Israel
omnia verba, quaecumque locutus fueris in conclavi tuo.[450] 'It is not so, my lord, O
King, but Eliseus, the prophet that is in Israel, telleth the king of Israel
all the words that thou speakest in thy privy chamber.'
16. Both
kinds of this knowledge of things, as well as other kinds of knowledge, come to
pass in the soul passively, so that for its own part it does naught. For it
will come to pass that, when a person is inattentive to a matter and it is far
from his mind, there will come to him a vivid understanding of what he is
hearing or reading, and that much more clearly than could be conveyed by the
sound of the words; and at times, though he understand not the words, as when
they are in Latin and he knows not that tongue, the knowledge of their meaning
comes to him, despite his not understanding them.
17. With
regard to the deceptions which the devil can bring about, and does bring about,
concerning this kind of knowledge and understanding, there is much that might
be said, for the deceptions which he effects in this way are very great and
very difficult to unmask. Inasmuch as, through suggestion, he can represent to
the soul many kinds of intellectual knowledge and implant them so firmly that
it appears impossible that they should not be true, he will certainly cause the
soul to believe innumerable falsehoods if it be not humble and cautious. For
suggestion has sometimes great power over the soul, above all when it is to some
extent aided by the weakness of sense, causing the knowledge which it conveys
to sink into the soul with such great power, persuasiveness and determination
that the soul needs to give itself earnestly to prayer and to exert great
strength if it is to cast it off. For at times the devil is accustomed to
represent to the soul the sins of others, and evil consciences and evil souls,
falsely but very vividly, and all this he does to harm the soul, trusting that
it may spread abroad his revelations, and that thus more sins may be committed,
for which reason he fills the soul with zeal by making it believe that these
revelations are granted it so that it may commend the persons concerned to God.
Now, though it is true that God sometimes sets before holy souls the
necessities of their neighbours, so that they may commend them to God or
relieve them, even as we read that He revealed to Jeremias the weakness of the
prophet Baruch, that he might give him counsel concerning it,[451] yet it is more often the
devil who does this, and speaks falsely about it, in order to cause infamy, sin
and discouragement, whereof we have very great experience. And at other times
he implants other kinds of knowledge with great assurance, and persuades the
soul to believe them.
18. Such
knowledge as this, whether it be of God or no, can be of very little assistance
to the progress of the soul on its journey to God if the soul desire it and be
attached to it; on the contrary, if it were not scrupulous in rejecting it, not
only would it be hindered on its road, but it would even be greatly harmed and
led far astray. For all the perils and inconveniences which, as we have said,
may be involved in the supernatural apprehensions whereof we have treated up to
this point, may occur here, and more also. I will not, therefore, treat more
fully of this matter here, since sufficient instruction about it has already
been given in past chapters; I will only say that the soul must always be very
scrupulous in rejecting these things, and seek to journey to God by the way of
unknowing; and must ever relate its experiences to its spiritual confessor, and
be ever attentive to his counsel. Let the confessor guide the soul past this,
laying no stress upon it, for it is of no kind of importance for the road to
union; for when these things are granted to the soul passively they always
leave in it such effect as God wills shall remain, without necessity for the
soul to exert any diligence in the matter. And thus it seems to me that there
is no reason to describe here either the effect which is produced by true
knowledge, or that which comes from false knowledge, for this would be
wearisome and never-ending. For the effects of this knowledge cannot all be
described in a brief instruction, the knowledge being great and greatly varied,
and its effects being so likewise, since good knowledge produces good effects,
and evil knowledge, evil effects, etc. In saying that all should be rejected,
we have said sufficient for the soul not to go astray.
CHAPTER
XXVII
Which
treats of the second kind of revelation, namely, the disclosure of hidden
secrets. Describes the way in which these may assist the soul toward union with
God, and the way in which they may be a hindrance; and how the devil may
deceive the soul greatly in this matter.
WE
were saying that the second kind of revelation was the manifestation of hidden
mysteries and secrets. This may come to pass in two ways. The first with
respect to that which God is in Himself, wherein is included the revelation of
the mystery of the Most Holy Trinity and Unity of God. The second is with
respect to that which God is in His works, and herein are included the other
articles of our Catholic faith, and the propositions deducible from them which
may be laid down explicitly as truths. In these are included and comprised a
great number of the revelations of the prophets, of promises and threatenings
of God, and of other things which have happened and shall happen concerning
this matter of faith. Under this second head we may also include many other
particular things which God habitually reveals, both concerning the universe in
general as also in particular concerning kingdoms, provinces and states and
families and particular persons. Of these we have examples in abundance in the
Divine writings, both of the one kind and of the other, especially in all the
Prophets, wherein are found revelations of all these kinds. As this is a clear
and plain matter, I will not here spend time in quoting these examples, but
will only say that these revelations do not come to pass by word alone, but
that God gives them in many ways and manners, sometimes by word alone,
sometimes by signs and figures alone, and by images and similitudes alone,
sometimes in more than one way at once, as is likewise to be seen in the
Prophets, particularly throughout the Apocalypse, where we find not only all
the kinds of revelation which we have described, but likewise the ways and
manners to which we are here referring.
2. As to
these revelations which are included under our second head, God grants them
still in our time to whom He will. He is wont, for example, to reveal to some
persons how many days they still have to live, or what trials they are to
suffer, or what is to befall such and such a person, or such and such a
kingdom, etc. And even as regards the mysteries of our faith, He will reveal
and expound to the spirit the truths concerning them, although, since this has
already been revealed once, it is not properly to be termed revelation, but is
more correctly a manifestation or explanation of what has been revealed
already.
3. In
this kind of revelation the devil may meddle freely. For, as revelations of
this nature come ordinarily through words, figures and similitudes, etc., the
devil may very readily counterfeit others like them, much more so than when the
revelations are in spirit alone. Wherefore, if with regard to the first and the
second kind of revelation which we are here describing, as touching our faith,
there be revealed to us anything new, or different, we must in no wise give our
consent to it, even though we had evidence that it was spoken by an angel from
Heaven. For even so says Saint Paul, in these words: Licet nos, gut Angelus
de coelo evangelizet vobis praeterquam quod evangelizavimus vobis, anathema sit.[452] Which signifies: Even
though an angel from Heaven declare or preach unto you aught else than that
which we have preached unto you, let him be anathema.
4.
Since, then, there are no more articles to be revealed concerning the substance
of our faith than those which have already been revealed to the Church, not
only must anything new which may be revealed to the soul concerning this be
rejected, but it behoves the soul to be cautious and pay no heed to any
novelties implied therein, and for the sake of the purity of the soul it
behoves it to rely on faith alone. Even though the truths already revealed to
it be revealed again, it will believe them, not because they are now revealed
anew, but because they have already been sufficiently revealed to the Church:
indeed, it must close its understanding to them, holding simply to the doctrine
of the Church and to its faith, which, as Saint Paul says, enters through
hearing.[453] And let not its credence
and intellectual assent be given to these matters of the faith which have been
revealed anew, however fitting and true they may seem to it, if it desire not
to be deceived. For, in order to deceive the soul and to instil falsehoods into
it, the devil first feeds it with truths and things that are probable in order
to give it assurance and afterwards to deceive it. He resembles one that sews
leather with a bristle, first piercing the leather with the sharp bristle,
after which enters the soft thread; the thread could not enter unless the
bristle guided it.
5. And
let this be considered carefully; for, even were it true that there was no
peril in such deception, yet it greatly behoves the soul not to desire to
understand clearly things that have respect to the faith, so that it may
preserve the merit of faith, in its purity and entirety, and likewise that it
may come, in this night of the understanding, to the Divine light of Divine
union. And it is equally necessary to consider any new revelation with ones
eyes closed, and holding fast the prophecies of old, for the Apostle Saint
Peter, though he had seen the glory of the Son of God after some manner on
Mount Tabor, wrote, in his canonical epistle, these words: Et habemus
firmiorem propheticum sermonem; cui bene factitis attendentes, etc.[454] Which is as though he had
said: Although the vision that we have seen of Christ on the Mount is true, the
word of the prophecy that is revealed to us is firmer and surer, and, if ye
rest your soul upon it, ye do well.
6. And
if it is true that, for the reasons already described, it behoves the soul to
close its eyes to the aforementioned revelations which come to it, and which
concern the propositions of the faith, how much more necessary will it be
neither to receive nor to give credit to other revelations relating to
different things, wherein the devil habitually meddles so freely that I believe
it impossible for a man not to be deceived in many of them unless he strive to
reject them, such an appearance of truth and security does the devil give them?
For he brings together so many appearances and probabilities, in order that
they may be believed, and plants them so firmly in the sense and the
imagination, that it seems to the person affected that what he says will certainly
happen; and in such a way does he cause the soul to grasp and hold them, that,
if it have not humility, it will hardly be persuaded to reject them and made to
believe the contrary. Wherefore, the soul that is pure, cautious, simple and
humble must resist revelations and other visions with as much effort and care
as though they were very perilous temptations. For there is no need to desire
them; on the contrary, there is need not too desire them, if we are to reach
the union of love. It is this that Solomon meant when he said: 'What need has a
man to desire and seek things that are above his natural capacity?'[455] As though we were to say:
He has no necessity, in order to be perfect, to desire supernatural things by
supernatural means, which are above his capacity.
7. And
as the objections that can be made to this have already been answered, in the
nineteenth and twentieth chapter of this book, I refer the reader to these,
saying only that the soul must keep itself from all revelations in order to
journey, in purity and without error, in the night of faith, to union.
CHAPTER
XXVIII
Which
treats of interior locutions that may come to the spirit supernaturally. Says
of what kinds they are.
THE
discreet reader has ever need to bear in mind the intent and end which I have
in this book, which is the direction of the soul, through all its
apprehensions, natural and supernatural, without deception or hindrance, in
purity of faith, to Divine union with God. If he does this, he will understand
that, although with respect to apprehensions of the soul and the doctrine that
I am expounding I give not such copious instruction neither do I particularize
so much or make so many divisions as the understanding perchance requires, I am
not being over-brief in this matter. For with respect to all this I believe
that sufficient cautions, explanations and instructions are given for the soul
to be enabled to behave prudently in every contingency, outward or inward, so
as to make progress. And this is the reason why I have so briefly dismissed the
subject of prophetic apprehensions and the other subjects allied to it; for
there is so much more to be said of each of them, according to the differences
and the ways and manners that are wont to be observed in each, that I believe
one could never know it all perfectly. I am content that, as I believe, the
substance and the doctrine thereof have been given, and the soul has been
warned of the caution which it behoves it to exercise in this respect, and also
concerning all other things of the same kind that may come to pass within it.
2. I
will now follow the same course with regard to the third kind of apprehension,
which, we said, was that of supernatural locutions, which are apt to come to
the spirits of spiritual persons without the intervention of any bodily sense.
These, although they are of many kinds, may, I believe, all be reduced to
three, namely: successive, formal and substantial. I describe as successive
certain words and arguments which the spirit is wont to form and fashion when
it is inwardly recollected. Formal words are certain clear and distinct words[456] which the spirit receives,
not from itself, but from a third person, sometimes when it is recollected and
sometimes when it is not. Substantial words are others which also come to the
spirit formally, sometimes when it is recollected and sometimes when it is not;
these cause in the substance of the soul that substance and virtue which they
signify. All these we shall here proceed to treat in their order.
CHAPTER
XXIX
Which
treats of the first kind of words that the recollected spirit sometimes forms
within itself. Describes the cause of these and the profit and the harm which
there may be in them.
These
successive words always come when the spirit is recollected and absorbed very
attentively in some meditation; and, in its reflections upon that same matter
whereon it is thinking, it proceeds from one stage to another, forming words
and arguments which are very much to the point, with great facility and
distinctiveness, and by means of its reasoning discovers things which it knew
not with respect to the subject of its reflections, so that it seems not to be
doing this itself, but rather it seems that another person is supplying the
reasoning within its mind or answering its questions or teaching it. And in
truth it has good cause for thinking this, for the soul itself is reasoning
with itself and answering itself as though it were two persons convening
together; and in some ways this is really so; for, although it is the spirit
itself that works as an instrument, the Holy Spirit oftentimes aids it to
produce and form those true reasonings, words and conceptions. And thus it utters
them to itself as though to a third person. For, as at that time the
understanding is recollected and united with the truth of that whereon it is
thinking, and the Divine Spirit is likewise united with it in that truth, as it
is always united in all truth, it follows that, when the understanding
communicates in this way with the Divine Spirit by means of this truth, it
begins to form within itself, successively, those other truths which are
connected with that whereon it is thinking, the door being opened to it and
illumination being given to it continually by the Holy Spirit Who teaches it.
For this is one of the ways wherein the Holy Spirit teaches.
2. And
when the understanding is illumined and taught in this way by this master, and
comprehends these truths, it begins of its own accord to form the words which
relate to the truths that are communicated to it from elsewhere. So that we may
say that the voice is the voice of Jacob and the hands are the hand of Esau.[457] And one that is in this
condition will be unable to believe that this is so, but will think that the
sayings and the words come from a third person. For such a one knows not the
facility with which the understanding can form words inwardly, as though they
came from a third person, and having reference to conceptions and truths which
have in fact been communicated to it by a third person.
3. And
although it is true that, in this communication and enlightenment of the
understanding, no deception is produced in the soul itself, nevertheless,
deception may, and does, frequently occur in the formal words and reasonings
which the understanding bases upon it. For, inasmuch as this illumination which
it receives is at times very subtle and spiritual, so that the understanding
cannot attain to a clear apprehension of it, and it is the understanding that,
as we say, forms the reasonings of its own accord, it follows that those which
it forms are frequently false, and on other occasions are only apparently true,
or are imperfect. For since at the outset the soul began to seize the truth,
and then brought into play the skilfulness or the clumsiness of its own weak
understanding, its perception of the truth may easily be modified by the
instability of its own faculties of comprehension, and act all the time exactly
as though a third person were speaking.
4. I
knew a person who had these successive locutions: among them were some very
true and substantial ones concerning the most holy Sacrament of the Eucharist,
but others were sheer heresy. And I am appalled at what happens in these days
-- namely, when some soul with the very smallest experience[458] of meditation, if it be
conscious of certain locutions of this kind in some state of recollection, at
once christens them all as coming from God, and assumes that this is the case,
saying: 'God said to me . . .'; 'God answered me . . .'; whereas it is not so
at all, but, as we have said, it is for the most part they who are saying these
things to themselves.
5. And,
over and above this, the desire which people have for locutions, and the
pleasure which comes to their spirits from them, lead them to make answer to
themselves and then to think that it is God Who is answering them and speaking
to them. They therefore commit great blunders unless they impose a strict
restraint upon themselves, and unless their director obliges them to abstain
from these kinds of reflection. For they are apt to gain from them mere
nonsensical talk and impurity of soul rather than humility and mortification of
spirit, if they think, 'This was indeed a great thing' and 'God was speaking';
whereas it will have been little more than nothing, or nothing at all, or less
than nothing. For, if humility and charity be not engendered by such
experiences, and mortification and holy simplicity and silence, etc., what can
be the value of them? I say, then, that these things may hinder the soul
greatly in its progress to Divine union because, if it pay heed to them, it is
led far astray from the abyss of faith, where the understanding must remain in
darkness, and must journey in darkness, by love and in faith, and not by much
reasoning.
6. And
if you ask me why the understanding must be deprived of these truths, since
through them it is illumined by the Spirit of God, and thus they[459] cannot be evil, I reply
that the Holy Spirit illumines the understanding which is recollected, and
illumines it according to the manner of its recollection,[460] and that the understanding
cannot find any other and greater recollection than in faith; and thus the Holy
Spirit will illumine it in naught more than in faith. For the purer and the
more refined in faith is the soul, the more it has of the infused charity of
God; and the more charity it has, the more is it illumined and the more gifts
of the Holy Spirit are communicated to it, for charity is the cause and the
means whereby they are communicated to it. And although it is true that, in
this illumination of truths, the Holy Spirit communicates a certain light to
the soul, this is nevertheless as different in quality from that which is in
faith, wherein is no clear understanding, as is the most precious gold from the
basest metal; and, with regard to its quantity, the one is as much greater than
the other as the sea is greater than a drop of water. For in the one manner
there is communicated to the soul wisdom concerning one or two or three truths,
etc., but in the other there is communicated to it all the wisdom of God in
general, which is the Son of God, Who communicates Himself to the soul in
faith.
7. And
if you tell me that this is all good, and that the one impedes not the other, I
reply that it impedes it greatly if the soul sets store by it; for to do this
is to occupy itself with things which are clear and of little importance, yet
which are sufficient to hinder the communication of the abyss of faith, wherein
God supernaturally and secretly instructs the soul, and exalts it in virtues
and gifts in a way that it knows not. And the profit which these successive
communications will bring us cannot come by our deliberately applying the
understanding to them, for if we do this they will rather lead us astray, even
as Wisdom says to the soul in the Songs: 'Turn away thine eyes from me, for
they make me to fly away.'[461] That is so say: They make
me to fly far away from thee and to set myself higher. We must therefore not
apply the understanding to that which is being supernaturally communicated to
it, but simply and sincerely apply the will to God with love, for it is through
love that these good things are communicated and through love they will be
communicated in greater abundance than before. For if the ability of the
natural understanding or of other faculties be brought actively to bear upon
these things which are communicated supernaturally and passively, its imperfect
nature will not reach them, and thus they will perforce be modified according
to the capacity of the understanding, and consequently will perforce be
changed; and thus the understanding will necessarily go astray and begin to
form reasonings within itself, and there will no longer be anything
supernatural or any semblance thereof, but all will be merely natural and most
erroneous and unworthy.
8. But
there are certain types of understanding so quick and subtle that, when they
become recollected during some meditation, they invent conceptions, and begin
naturally, and with great facility, to form these conceptions into the most lifelike
words and arguments, which they think, without any doubt, come from God. Yet
all the time they come only from the understanding, which, with its natural
illumination, being to some extent freed from the operation of the senses, is
able to effect all this, and more, without any supernatural aid. This happens
very commonly, and many persons are greatly deceived by it, thinking that they
have attained to a high degree of prayer and are receiving communications from
God, wherefore they either write this down or cause it to be written. And it
turns out to be nothing, and to have the substance of no virtue, and it serves
only to encourage them in vanity.
9. Let
these persons learn to be intent upon naught, save only upon grounding the will
in humble love, working diligently, suffering and thus imitating the Son of God
in His life and mortifications, for it is by this road that a man will come to
all spiritual good, rather than by much inward reasoning.
10. In
this type of locution -- namely, in successive interior words -- the devil
frequently intervenes, especially in the case of such as have some inclination
or affection for them. At times when such persons begin to be recollected, the
devil is accustomed to offer them ample material for distractions, forming
conceptions or words by suggestion in their understanding, and then corrupting[462] and deceiving it most
subtly with things that have every appearance of being true. And this is one of
the manners wherein he communicates with those who have made some implicit or
expressed compact with him; as with certain heretics, especially with certain
heresiarchs, whose understanding he fills with most subtle, false and erroneous
conceptions and arguments.
11. From
what has been said, it is evident that these successive locutions may proceed
in the understanding from three causes, namely: from the Divine Spirit, Who
moves and illumines the understanding; from the natural illumination of the
same understanding; and from the devil, who may speak to the soul by
suggestion. To describe now the signs and indications by which a man may know
when they proceed from one cause and when from another would be somewhat
difficult, as also to give examples and indications. It is quite possible,
however, to give some general signs, which are these. When in its words and
conceptions the soul finds itself loving God, and at the same time is conscious
not only of love but also of humility and reverence, it is a sign that the Holy
Spirit is working within it, for, whensoever He grants favours, He grants them
with this accompaniment.[463] When the locutions proceed
solely from the vivacity and brilliance of the understanding, it is the understanding
that accomplishes everything, without the operation of the virtues (although
the will, in the knowledge and illumination of those truths, may love
naturally); and, when the meditation is over, the will remains dry, albeit
inclined neither to vanity nor to evil, unless the devil should tempt it afresh
about this matter. This, however, is not the case when the locutions have been
prompted by a good spirit; for then, as a rule, the will is afterwards
affectioned to God and inclined to well-doing. At certain times, nevertheless,
it will happen that, although the communication has been the work of a good
spirit, the will remains in aridity, since God ordains it so for certain causes
which are of assistance to the soul. At other times the soul will not be very
conscious of the operations or motions of those virtues, yet that which it has
experienced will be good. Wherefore I say that the difference between these
locutions is sometimes difficult to recognize, by reason of the varied effects
which they produce; but these which have now been described are the most
common, although sometimes they occur in greater abundance and sometimes in
less. But those that come from the devil are sometimes difficult to understand
and recognize, for, although it is true that as a rule they leave the will in
aridity with respect to love of God, and the mind inclined to vanity,
self-esteem or complacency, nevertheless they sometimes inspire the soul with a
false humility and a fervent affection of the will rooted in self-love, so that
at times a person must be extremely spiritually-minded to recognize it. And
this the devil does in order the better to protect himself; for he knows very
well how sometimes to produce tears by the feelings which he inspires in a
soul, in order that he may continue to implant in it the affections that he
desires. But he always strives to move its will so that it may esteem those
interior communications, attach great importance to them, and, as a result,
give itself up to them and be occupied in that which is not virtue, but is
rather the occasion of losing virtue as the soul may have.
12. Let
us remember, then, this necessary caution, both as to the one type of locution
and as to the other, so that we may not be deceived or hindered by them. Let us
treasure none of them, but think only of learning to direct our will
determinedly to God, fulfilling His law and His holy counsels perfectly, which
is the wisdom of the Saints, and contenting ourselves with knowing the
mysteries and truths
with the simplicity and truth wherewith the
Church sets them before us. For this is sufficient to enkindle the will
greatly, so that we need not pry into other deep and curious things wherein it
is a wonder if there is no peril. For with respect to this Saint Paul says: It
is not fitting to know more than it behoves us[464] to know.[465] And let this suffice with
respect to this matter of successive words.
CHAPTER
XXX
Which
treats of the interior words that come to the spirit formally by supernatural
means. Warns the reader of the harm which they may do and of the caution that
is necessary in order that the soul may not be deceived by them.
THE
interior words belonging to the second type are formal words, which at certain
times come to the spirit by supernatural means, without the intervention of any
of the senses, sometimes when the spirit is recollected and at other times when
it is not. I call them formal because they are communicated to the spirit
formally by a third person, the spirit itself playing no part in this. And they
are therefore very different from those which we have just described; because
not only is there this difference, that they come without any such intervention
of the spirit itself as takes place in the other case; but also, as I say, they
sometimes come when the spirit is not recollected and even when it is far from
thinking of the subject of what is being said to it. This is not so in the
first type of locution -- namely, that of successive words -- which always has
some relation to the subject which the soul is considering.
2. These
words are sometimes very clearly formed and sometimes less so; for they are
frequently like conceptions in which something is said to the spirit, whether
in the form of a reply to it or in that of another manner of address. Sometimes
there is only one word; sometimes there are two or more; sometimes the words
succeed one another like those already described, for they are apt to be continuous,
either instructing the soul or discussing something with it; and all this comes
to pass without any part being played therein by the spirit, for it is just as
though one person were speaking with another. In this way, we read, it came to
pass with Daniel, who says that the angel spoke within him.[466] This was a formal and
successive discourse within his spirit, which instructed him, even as the angel
declared at the time, saying that he had come to instruct him.
3. When
these words are no more than formal, the effect which they produce upon the
soul is not great. For ordinarily they serve only to instruct or illumine with
respect to one thing; and, in order to produce this effect, it is not necessary
that they should produce any other effect more efficacious than the purpose to
which they are leading. And when they are of God they invariably work this in
the soul; for they make it ready and quick to do that which it is commanded or
instructed to do; yet at times they take not from it the repugnance or the
difficulty which it feels, but are rather wont to increase these, according as
God ordains for the better instruction, increased humility and greater good of
the soul. And this repugnance most commonly occurs when the soul is commanded to
do things of a high order, or things of a kind that may exalt it; when things
are commanded it that conduce to its greater lowliness and humility, it
responds with more readiness and ease. And thus we read in Exodus that, when
God commanded Moses to go to Pharao and driver the people, he showed such great
repugnance that He had to command him three times to do it and to perform signs
for him; and all this was of no avail until God gave him Aaron for a companion
to take part of the honour.[467]
4. When,
on the other hand, the words and communications are of the devil, it comes to
pass that the soul responds with more ease and readiness to things that are of
greater weight,[468] and for lowlier things it
conceives repugnance. The fact is that God so greatly abhors seeing souls
attracted by high position that, even when He commands and obliges them to
accept such positions, He desires them not to be ready and anxious to command.
It is this readiness which God commonly inspires in the soul, through these
formal words, that constitutes one great difference between them and those
other successive words: the latter move not the spirit so much, neither do they
inspire it with such readiness, since they are less formal, and since the understanding
has more to do with them. Nevertheless successive words may sometimes produce a
greater effect by reason of the close communication that there is at times
between the Divine Spirit and the human. It is in the manner of their coming
that there is a great difference between the two kinds of locution. With
respect to formal words the soul can have no doubt as to whether or no it is
pronouncing them itself, for it sees quite ready that it is not, especially
when it has not been thinking of the subject of that which has been said to it;
and even when it has been so thinking it feels very clearly and distinctly that
the words come from elsewhere.
5. The
soul must no more attach importance to all these formal words than to the
other, or successive, words; for, apart from the fact that to do so would
occupy the spirit with that which is not a legitimate and proximate means to
union with God -- namely, faith -- it might also very easily cause it to be
deceived by the devil. For sometimes it is hardly possible to know what words
are spoken by a good spirit, and what by an evil spirit. By their effects they
can hardly be distinguished at all, since neither kind produces effects of much
importance: sometimes, indeed, with imperfect souls, words which come from the
devil have more efficacy than have these others, which come from a good spirit,
with souls that are spiritual. The soul, then, must take no account of what
these words may express, nor attach any importance to them, whether the spirit
from which they come be good or evil. But the words must be repeated to an
experienced confessor, or to a discreet and learned person, that he may give
instruction and see what it is well to do, and impart his advice; and the soul
must behave, with regard to them, in a resigned and negative way. And, if such
an expert person cannot be found, it is better to attach no importance to these
words and to repeat them to nobody; for it is easy to find persons who will
ruin the soul rather than edify it. Souls must not be given into the charge of
any kind of director, since in so grave a matter it is of the greatest
importance whether one goes astray or acts rightly.
6. And
let it be carefully noted that a soul should never act according to its own
opinion or accept anything of what these locutions express, without much
reflection and without taking advice of another. For strange and subtle
deceptions may arise in this matter; so much so that I myself believe that the
soul that does not set itself against accepting such things cannot fail to be
deceived by many of them.
7. And
since we have treated of these deceptions and perils, and of the caution to be
observed with regard to them, in Chapters seventeen, eighteen, nineteen and
twenty of this book, I refer the reader to these and say no more on this matter
here; I only repeat that my chief instruction is that the soul should attach no
importance to these things in any way.
CHAPTER
XXXI
Which
treats of the substantial words that come interiorly to the spirit. Describes
the difference between them and formal words, and the profit which they bring
and the resignation and respect which the soul must observe with regard to
them.[469]
THE
third kind of interior words, we said, is called substantial. These substantial
words, although they are likewise formal, since they are impressed upon the
soul in a definitely formal way, differ, nevertheless, in that substantial
words produce vivid and substantial effects upon the soul, whereas words which
are merely formal do not. So that, although it is true that every substantial
word is formal, every formal word is not therefore substantial, but only, as we
said above, such a word as impresses substantially on the soul that which it
signifies. It is as if Our Lord were to say formally to the soul: 'Be thou
good'; it would then be substantially good. Or as if He were to say to it:
'Love thou Me'; it would then have and feel within itself the substance of love
for God. Or as if it feared greatly and He said to it: 'Fear thou not'; it
would at once feel within itself great fortitude and tranquility. For the
saying of God, and His word, as the Wise Man says, is full of power;[470] and thus that which He says
to the soul He produces substantially within it. For it is this that David
meant when he said: 'See, He will give to His voice a voice of virtue.'[471] And even so with Abraham,
when He said to him: 'Walk in My presence and be perfect':[472] he was then perfect and
walked ever in the fear of God. And this is the power of His word in the
Gospel, wherewith He healed the sick, raised the dead, etc., by no more than a
word. And after this manner He gives certain souls locutions which are
substantial; and they are of such moment and price that they are life and
virtue and incomparable good to the soul; for one of these words works greater
good within the soul than all that the soul itself has done throughout its
life.
2. With
respect to these words, the soul should do nothing. It should neither desire
them nor refrain from desiring them; it should neither reject them nor fear
them. It should do nothing in the way of executing what these words express,
for these substantial words are never pronounced by God in order that the soul
may translate them into action, but that He may so translate them within the
soul; herein they differ from formal and successive words. And I say that the
soul must neither desire nor refrain from desiring, since its desire is not
necessary for God to translate these words into effect, nor is it sufficient
for the soul to refrain from desiring in order for the said effect not to be
produced. Let the soul rather be resigned and humble with respect to them. It
must not reject them, since the effect of these words remains substantially
within it and is full of the good which comes from God. As the soul receives
this good passively, its action is at no time of any importance. Nor should it
fear any deception; for neither the understanding nor the devil can intervene
herein, nor can they succeed in passively producing this substantial effect in
the soul, in such a way that the effect and habit of the locution may be
impressed upon it, unless the soul should have given itself to the devil by a
voluntary compact, and he should have dwelt in it as its master, and impressed
upon it these effects, not of good, but of evil. Inasmuch as that soul would be
already voluntarily united to him in perversity, the devil might easily impress
upon it the effects of his sayings and words with evil intent. For we see by
experience that in many things and even upon good souls he works great
violence, by means of suggestion, making his suggestions very efficacious; and
if they were evil he might work in them the consummation of these suggestions.
But he cannot leave upon a soul effects similar to those of locutions which are
good; for there is no comparison between the locutions of the devil and those
of God. The former are all as though they were not, in comparison with the
latter, neither do they produce any effect at all compared with the effect of
these. For this cause God says through Jeremias: 'What has the chaff to do with
the wheat? Are not My words perchance as fire, and as a hammer that breaketh
the rock in pieces?'[473] And thus these substantial
words are greatly conducive to the union of the soul with God; and the more
interior they are, the more substantial are they, and the greater is the profit
that they bring. Happy is the soul to whom God addresses these words. Speak,
Lord, for Thy servant heareth.[474]
CHAPTER
XXXII
Which
treats of the apprehensions received by the understanding from interior
feelings which come supernaturally to the soul. Describes their cause, and the
manner wherein the soul must conduct itself so that they may not obstruct its
road to union with God.
IT
is now time to treat of the fourth and last kind of intellectual apprehension
which we said might come to the understanding through the spiritual feelings
which are frequently produced supernaturally in the souls of spiritual persons
and which we count amongst the distinct apprehensions of the understanding.
2. These
distinct spiritual feelings may be of two kinds. The first kind is in the
affection of the will. The second, in the substance of the soul. Each of these
may be of many kinds. Those of the will, when they are of God, are most
sublime; but those that are of the substance of the soul are very high and of
great good and profit. As to these, neither the soul nor he that treats with it
can know or understand the cause whence they proceed, or what are the acts
whereby God may grant it these favours; for they depend not upon any works
performed by the soul, nor upon its meditations, although both these things are
a good preparation for them: God grants these favours to whom He wills and for
what reason He wills.[475] For it may come to pass
that a person will have performed many good works, yet that He will not give
him these touches of His favour; and another will have done far fewer good
works, yet He will give him them to a most sublime degree and in great
abundance. And thus it is not needful that the soul should be actually employed
and occupied in spiritual things (although it is much better that it should be
so employed if it is to have these favours) for God to give it these touches in
which the soul experiences the said feelings; for in the majority of cases the
soul is completely heedless of them. Of these touches, some are distinct and
pass quickly away; others are less distinct and last longer.
3. These
feelings, inasmuch as they are feelings only, belong not to the understanding
but to the will; and thus I refrain, of set purpose, from treating of them
here, nor shall I do so until we treat of the night and purgation of the will
in its affections: this will be in the third book, which follows this.[476] But since frequently, and
even in the majority of cases, apprehensions and knowledge and intelligence
overflow from them into the understanding, it would be well to make mention of
them here, for that reason only. It must be known, then, that from these
feelings, both from those of the will and from those which are in the substance
of the soul, whether they are caused suddenly by the touches of God, or are
durable and successive, an apprehension of knowledge or intelligence frequently
overflows, as I say, into the understanding; and this is normally a most
sublime perception of God, most delectable to the understanding, to which no
name can be given, any more than to the feeling whence it overflows. And these
manifestations of knowledge are sometimes of one kind and sometimes of another;
sometimes they are clearer and more sublime, according to the nature of the
touches which come from God and which produce the feelings whence they proceed,
and according also to their individual characteristics.
4. It is
unnecessary here to spend a great store of words in cautioning and directing
the understanding, through these manifestations of knowledge, in faith, to
union with God. For albeit the feelings which we have described are produced
passively in the soul, without any effective assistance to that end on its own
part, even so likewise is the knowledge of them received passively in the
understanding, in a way called by the philosophers 'passible,' wherein the
understanding plays no part. Wherefore, in order not to go astray on their
account nor to impede the profit which comes from them, the understanding must
do nothing in connection with these feelings, but must conduct itself
passively, and not interfere by applying to them its natural capacity. For, as
we have said is the case with successive locutions, the understanding, with its
activity, would very easily disturb and ruin the effect of these delicate
manifestations of knowledge, which are a delectable supernatural intelligence
that human nature cannot attain or apprehend by its own efforts, but only by
remaining in a state of receptivity.[477] And thus the soul must not
strive to attain them or desire to receive them, lest the understanding should
form other manifestations of its own, or the devil should make his entry with
still more that are different from them and false. This he may very well do by means
of the feelings aforementioned, or of those which he can himself infuse into
the soul that devotes itself to these kinds of knowledge. Let the soul be
resigned, humble and passive herein, for, since it receives this knowledge
passively from God, He will communicate it whensoever He is pleased, if He sees
the soul to be humble and detached. And in this way the soul will do nothing to
counteract the help which these kinds of knowledge give it in its progress
toward Divine union, which help is great; for these touches are all touches of
union, which is wrought passively in the soul.[478]
5. What
has been said concerning this suffices, for no matter what may happen to the
soul with respect to the understanding, cautions and instructions have been
given it in the sections already mentioned. And although a case may appear to
be different and to be in no way included herein, there is none that cannot be
referred to one of these, and thus may be deduced the instruction necessary for
it.[479]
BOOK THE THIRD
Which
treats of the purgation of the active night of the memory and will. Gives
instruction how the soul is to behave with respect to the apprehensions of
these two faculties, that it may come to union with God, according to the two
faculties aforementioned, in perfect hope and charity.
CHAPTER
I
THE
first faculty of the soul, which is the understanding, has now been instructed,
through all its apprehensions, in the first theological virtue, which is faith,
to the end that, according to this faculty, the soul may be united with God by
means of the purity of faith. It now remains to do likewise with respect to the
other two faculties of the soul, which are memory and will, and to purify them
likewise with respect to their apprehensions, to the end that, according to
these two faculties also, the soul may come to union with God in perfect hope
and charity. This will briefly be effected in this third book. We have now
concluded our treatment of the understanding, which is the receptacle of all
other objects according to its mode of operation; and in treating of this we
have gone a great part of the whole way. It is therefore unnecessary for us to
write at equal length with respect to these faculties; for it is not possible
that, if the spiritual man instructs his understanding in faith according to
the doctrine which has been given him, he should not, in so doing, instruct the
other two faculties in the other two virtues likewise; for the operations of
each faculty depend upon the others.
2. But
since, in order to follow our manner of procedure, and in order, too, that we
may be the better understood, we must necessarily speak of the proper and
determinate matter, we shall here be obliged to set down the apprehensions
proper to each faculty, and first, those of the memory, making here such
distinction between them as suffices for our purpose. This we shall be able to
deduce from the distinction between their objects, which are three: natural,
imaginary and spiritual; according to which there are likewise three kinds of
knowledge which come from the memory, namely: natural and supernatural,[480] imaginary and spiritual.
3. All
these, by the Divine favour, we shall treat here in due course, beginning with
natural knowledge, which pertains to the most exterior objects. And we shall
then treat of the affections of the will, wherewith we shall conclude this
third book of the active spiritual night.
CHAPTER
II
Which
treats of the natural apprehensions of the memory and describes how the soul
must be voided of them in order to be able to attain to union with God according
to this faculty.
IT
is necessary that, in each of these books, the reader should bear in mind the
purpose of which we are speaking. For otherwise there may arise within him many
such questions with respect to what he is reading as might by this time be occurring
to him with respect to what we have said of the understanding, and shall say
now of the memory, and afterwards shall say of the will. For, seeing how we
annihilate the faculties with respect to their operations, it may perhaps seem
to him that we are destroying the road of spiritual practice rather than
constructing it.
2. This
would be true if we were seeking here only to instruct beginners, who are best
prepared through these apprehensible and discursive apprehensions. But, since
we are here giving instruction to those who would progress farther in
contemplation, even to union with God, to which end all of these means and
exercises of sense concerning the faculties must recede into the background,
and be put to silence, to the end that God may of His own accord work Divine
union in the soul, it is necessary to proceed by this method of disencumbering
and emptying the soul, and causing it to reject the natural jurisdiction and
operations of the faculties, so that they may become capable of infusion and
illumination from supernatural sources; for their capacity cannot attain to so
lofty an experience, but will rather hinder it, if it be not disregarded.
3. And
thus, if it be true, as it is, that the soul must proceed in its growing
knowledge of God by learning that which He is not rather than that which He is,
in order to come to Him, it must proceed by renouncing and rejecting, to the
very uttermost, everything in its apprehensions that it is possible to
renounce, whether this be natural or supernatural. We shall proceed with this
end in view with regard to the memory, drawing it out from its natural state
and limitations, and causing it to rise above itself -- that is, above all
distinct knowledge and apprehensible possession -- to the supreme hope of God,
Who is incomprehensible.
4.
Beginning, then, with natural knowledge, I say that natural knowledge in the
memory consists of all the kinds of knowledge that the memory can form
concerning the objects of the five bodily senses -- namely: hearing, sight,
smell, taste and touch -- and all kinds of knowledge of this type which it is
possible to form and fashion. Of all these forms and kinds of knowledge the
soul must strip and void itself, and it must strive to lose the imaginary
apprehension of them, so that there may be left in it no kind of impression of
knowledge, nor trace of aught soever, but rather the soul must remain barren
and bare, as if these forms had never passed through it, and in total oblivion
and suspension. And this cannot happen unless the memory be annihilated as to
all its forms, if it is to be united with God. For it cannot happen save by
total separation from all forms which are not God; for God comes beneath no
definite form or kind of knowledge whatsoever, as we have said in treating of
the night of the understanding. And since, as Christ says, no man can serve two
masters,[481] the memory cannot be united
both with God and with forms and distinct kinds of knowledge and, as God has no
form or image that can be comprehended by the memory, it follows that, when the
memory is united with God (as is seen, too, every day by experience), it
remains without form and without figure, its imagination being lost and itself
being absorbed in a supreme good, and in a great oblivion, remembering nothing.
For that Divine union voids its fancy and sweeps it clean of all forms and
kinds of knowledge and raises it to the supernatural.
5. Now
there sometimes comes to pass here a notable thing; for occasionally, when God
brings about these touches of union in the memory, the brain (where memory has
its seat) is so perceptibly upset that it seems as if it becomes quite inert,
and its judgment and sense are lost. This is sometimes more perceptible and
sometimes less so, according to the strength of this touch, and then, by reason
of this union, the memory is voided and purged, as I say, of all kinds of
knowledge. It remains in oblivion -- at times in complete oblivion -- so that
it has to put forth a great effort and to labour greatly in order to remember
anything.
6. And
sometimes this oblivion of the memory and suspension of the imagination reach
such a point, because of the union of the memory with God, that a long time
passes without the soul's perceiving it, or knowing what has taken place during
that period. And, as the imaginative faculty is then in suspension, it feels
naught that is done to it, not even things that cause pain; for without
imagination there is no feeling, not even coming through thought, since this
exists not. And, to the end that God may bring about these touches of union,
the soul must needs withdraw its memory from all apprehensible kinds of
knowledge. And it is to be noted that these suspensions come not to pass in
those that are already perfect, since they have attained to perfect union, and
these suspensions belong to the beginnings of union.
7.
Someone will remark that all this seems very well, but that it leads to the
destruction of the natural use and course of the faculties, and reduces man to
the state of a beast -- a state of oblivion and even worse -- since he becomes
incapable of reasoning or of remembering his natural functions and necessities.
It will be argued that God destroys not nature, but rather perfects it; and
that from this teaching there necessarily follows its destruction, when that
which pertains to morality and reason is not practised and is forgotten,
neither is that which is natural practised; for (it will be said) none of these
things can be remembered, as the soul is deprived of forms and kinds of
knowledge which are the means of remembrance.
8. To
this I reply that, the more nearly the memory attains to union with God, the
more do distinct kinds of knowledge become perfected within it, until it loses
them entirely -- namely, when it attains to the state of union in perfection.
And thus, at the beginning, when this is first taking place, the soul cannot
but fall into great oblivion with respect to all things, since forms and kinds
of knowledge are being erased from it; and therefore it is very negligent
concerning its outward behaviour and usage -- forgetting to eat or drink, and
being uncertain if it has done this or no, if it has seen this or no, if it has
said this or no -- because of the absorption of the memory in God. But when
once it attains to the habit of union, which is a supreme blessing, it no
longer has these periods of oblivion, after this manner, in that which pertains
to natural and moral reason; actions which are seemly and necessary, indeed, it
performs with a much greater degree of pection, although it performs them no
longer by means of forms and manners of knowledge pertaining to the memory.
For, when it has the habit of union, which is a supernatural state, memory and
the other faculties fail it completely in their natural functions, and pass
beyond their natural limitations, even to God, Who is supernatural. And thus,
when the memory is transformed in God, it cannot receive impressions of forms
or kinds of knowledge. Wherefore the functions of the memory and of the other faculties
in this state are all Divine; for, when at last God possesses the faculties and
has become the entire master of them, through their transformation into
Himself, it is He Himself Who moves and commands them divinely, according to
His Divine Spirit and will; and the result of this is that the operations of
the soul are not distinct, but all that it does is of God, and its operations
are Divine, so that, even as Saint Paul says, he that is joined unto God
becomes one spirit with Him.[482]
9. Hence
it comes to pass that the operations of the soul in union are of the Divine
Spirit and are Divine. And hence it comes that the actions of such souls are
only those that are seemly and reasonable, and not those that are
ill-beseeming. For the Spirit of God teaches them that which they ought to
know, and causes them to be ignorant of that which it behoves them not to know,
and to remember that which they have to remember, with or without forms, and to
forget that which they should forget; and it makes them love that which they
have to love, and not to love that which is not in God. And thus, all the first
motions of the faculties of such souls are Divine and it is not to be wondered
at that the motions and operations of these faculties should be Divine, since
they are transformed in the Divine Being.[483]
10. Of
these operations I will give a few examples. Let this be one. A person asks
another who is in this state to commend him to God. This person will not
remember to do so by means of any form or kind of knowledge that remains in his
memory concerning that other person; if it be right that he should recommend
him to God (which will be if God desires to receive a prayer for that person),
He will move his will and give him a desire to pray for him; and if God desires
not such prayer, that other person will not be able nor will desire to pray,'
though he make great efforts to do so; and at times God will cause him to pray
for others of whom he has no knowledge nor has ever heard. And this is because,
as I have said, God alone moves the faculties of these souls to do those works
which are meet, according to the will and ordinance of God, and they cannot be
moved to do others; and thus the works and prayers of these souls are always
effectual. Such were those of the most glorious Virgin Our Lady, who, being
raised to this high estate from the beginning, had never the form of any
creature imprinted in her soul, neither was moved by such, but was invariably
guided by the Holy Spirit.
11.
Another example. At a certain time a person in this state has to attend to some
necessary business. He will remember it by no kind of form, but, without his
knowing how, it will come to his soul, at the time and in the manner that it
ought to come, and that without fail.
12. And
not only in these things does the Holy Spirit give such persons light, but also
in many others, relating both to the present and to the future, and even, in
many cases, as regards those absent from them; and although at times this comes
to pass through intellectual forms, it frequently happens without the
intervention of any forms that can be apprehended, so that these persons know
not how they know. But this comes to them from the Divine Wisdom; for, since
these souls exercise themselves in knowing and apprehending nothing with the
faculties, they come in general, as we have said in the Mount,[484] to know everything,
according to that which the Wise Man says: 'The worker of all things, who is
Wisdom, taught me all things.'[485]
13. You
will say, perhaps, that the soul will be unable to void and deprive its memory
of all forms and fancies to such an extent as to be able to attain to so lofty
a state; for there are two things so difficult that their accomplishment
surpasses human ability and strength, namely, to throw off with one's natural
powers that which is natural, which is hard enough,[486] and to attain and be united
to the supernatural, which is much more difficult -- indeed, to speak the
truth, is impossible with natural ability alone. The truth, I repeat, is that
God must place the soul in this supernatural state; but the soul, as far as in
it lies, must be continually preparing itself; and this it can do by natural
means, especially with the help that God is continually giving it. And thus, as
the soul, for its own part, enters into this renunciation and self-emptying of
forms, so God begins to give it the possession of union; and this God works
passively in the soul, as we shall say, Deo dante, when we treat of the
passive night of the soul. And thus, when it shall please God, and according to
the manner of the soul's preparation, He will grant it the habit of perfect and
Divine union.
14. And
the Divine effects which God produces in the soul when He has granted it this
habit, both as to the understanding and as to the memory and will, we shall not
describe in this account of the soul's active purgation and night, for this
alone will not bring the soul to Divine union. We shall speak of these effects,
however, in treating of the passive night, by means of which is brought about
the union of the soul with God.[487] And so I shall speak here
only of the necessary means whereby the memory may place itself actively in
this night and purgation, as far as lies in its power. And these means are that
the spiritual man must habitually exercise caution, after this manner. All the
things that he hears, sees, smells, tastes, or touches, he must be careful not
to store up or collect in his memory, but he must allow himself to forget them
immediately, and this he must accomplish, if need be, with the same efficacy as
that with which others contrive to remember them, so that there remains in his
memory no knowledge or image of them whatsoever. It must be with him as if they
existed not in the world, and his memory must be left free and disencumbered of
them, and be tied to no consideration, whether from above or from below; as if
he had no faculty of memory; he must freely allow everything to fall into
oblivion as though all things were a hindrance to him; and in fact everything
that is natural, if one attempt to make use of it in supernatural matters, is a
hindrance rather than a help.
15. And
if those questions and objections which arose above with respect to the
understanding should also arise here (the objections, that is to say, that the
soul is doing nothing, is wasting its time and is depriving itself of spiritual
blessings which it might well receive through the memory), the answer to this
has already been given, and will be given again farther on, in our treatment of
the passive night; wherefore there is no need for us to dwell upon it here. It
is needful only to observe that, although at certain times the benefit of this
suspension of forms and of all knowledge may not be realized, the spiritual man
must not for that reason grow weary, for in His own time God will not fail to
succour him. To attain so great a blessing it behoves the soul to endure much
and to suffer with patience and hope.
16. And,
although it is true that hardly any soul will be found that is moved by God in
all things and at all times, and has such continual union with God that,
without the mediation of any form, its faculties are ever moved divinely, there
are nevertheless souls who in their operations are very habitually moved by
God, and these are not they that are moved of themselves, for, as Saint Paul
says, the sons of God who are transformed and united in God, are moved by the
Spirit of God,[488] that is, are moved to
perform Divine work in their faculties. And it is no marvel that their
operations should be Divine, since the union of the soul is Divine.
CHAPTER
III
Wherein
are described three kinds of evil which come to the soul when it enters not
into darkness with respect to knowledge and reflections in the memory. Herein
is described the first.
TO
three kinds of evil and inconvenience the spiritual man is subject when he
persists in desiring to make use of all natural knowledge and reflections of
the memory in order to journey toward God, or for any other purpose: two of
these are positive and one is privative. The first comes from things of the
world; the second, from the devil; the third, which is privative, is the
impediment and hindrance to Divine union caused and effected in the soul.
2. The
first evil, which comes from the world, consists in the subjection of the soul,
through knowledge and reflection, to many kinds of harm, such as falsehoods,
imperfections, desires, opinions, loss of time, and many other things which
breed many kinds of impurity in the soul. And it is clear that the soul must of
necessity fall into many perils of falsehood, when it admits knowledge and
reasoning; for oftentimes that which is true must appear false, and that which
is certain, doubtful; and contrariwise; for there is scarcely a single truth of
which we can have complete knowledge. From all these things the soul is free if
the memory enters into darkness with respect to every kind of reflection and
knowledge.
3.
Imperfections meet the soul at every step if it sets its memory upon that which
it has heard, seen, touched, smelt and tasted; for there must then perforce
cling to it some affection, whether this be of pain, of fear, of hatred, of
vain hope, vain enjoyment, vainglory, etc.; for all these are, at the least,
imperfections, and at times are downright[489] venial sins; and they leave
much impurity most subtly in the soul, even though the reflections and the
knowledge have relation to God. And it is also clear that they engender desires
within the soul, for these arise naturally from the knowledge and reflections
aforementioned, and if one wishes only to have this knowledge and these
reflections, even that is a desire. And it is clearly seen that many occasions
of judging others will come likewise; for, in using its memory, the soul cannot
fail to come upon that which is good and bad in others, and, in such a case,
that which is evil oftentimes seems good, and that which is good, evil. I
believe there is none who can completely free himself from all these kinds of
evil, save by blinding his memory and leading it into darkness with regard to
all these things.
4. And
if you tell me that a man is well able to conquer all these things when they
come to him, I reply that, if he sets store by knowledge, this is simply and
utterly impossible; for countless imperfections and follies insinuate
themselves into such knowledge, some of which are so subtle and minute that,
without the soul's realization thereof, they cling to it of their own accord,
even as pitch clings to the man that touches it; so that it is better to
conquer once for all by denying the memory completely. You will say likewise
that by so doing the soul deprives itself of many good thoughts and meditations
upon God, which are of great profit to it and whereby God grants it favours. I
reply that to this end purity of soul is of the greatest profit, which means
that there clings to the soul no creature affection, or temporal affection, or
effective advertence; which I believe cannot but cling to the soul because of
the imperfection which the faculties have in their own operations. Wherefore it
is best to learn to silence the faculties and to cause them to be still, so
that God may speak. For, as we have said, in order to attain to this state the
natural operations must be completely disregarded, and this happens, as the
Prophet says, when the soul comes into solitude, according to these its
faculties, and God speaks to its heart.[490]
5. And
if you again reply, saying that the soul will have no blessing unless it
meditates upon God and allows its memory to reflect upon Him, and that many
distractions and negligences will continually enter it, I say that it is
impossible, if the memory be recollected with regard both to things of the next
life and to things here below, that evils or distractions should enter it, nor
any other follies or vices (the which things always enter when the memory
wanders), since there is no exit or entrance for them. This would come to pass
if, when we had shut the door upon considerations and reflections concerning
things above, we opened it to things below; but in this state we shut the door
to all things whence distraction may come,[491] causing the memory to be
still and dumb, and the ear of the spirit to be attentive, in silence, to God
alone, saying with the Prophet: 'Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth.'[492] It was thus that the Spouse
in the Songs said that his Bride should be, in these words: 'My sister is a
garden enclosed and a fountain sealed up'[493] -- that is to say, enclosed
and sealed up against all things that may enter.
6. Let
the soul, then, remain 'enclosed,' without anxieties and troubles, and He that
entered in bodily form to His disciples when the doors were shut, and gave them
peace,[494] though they neither knew
nor thought that this was possible nor knew how it was possible, will enter
spiritually into the soul, without its knowing how He does so, when the doors
of its faculties -- memory, understanding and will -- are enclosed against all
apprehensions. And He will fill them with peace, coming down upon the soul, as
the prophet says, like a river of peace,[495] and taking it from all the
misgivings and suspicions, disturbances and darknesses which caused it to fear
that it was lost or was on the way to being so. Let it not grow careless about
prayer, and let it wait in detachment and emptiness, for its blessings will not
tarry.
CHAPTER
IV
Which
treats of the second kind of evil that may come to the soul from the devil by
way of the natural apprehensions of the memory.
THE
second positive evil that may come to the soul by means of the knowledge of the
memory proceeds from the devil, who by this means obtains great influence over
it. For he can continually bring it new forms, kinds of knowledge and
reflections, by means whereof he can taint the soul with pride, avarice, wrath,
envy, etc., and cause it unjust hatred, or vain love, and deceive it in many
ways. And besides this, he is wont to leave impressions,[496] and to implant them in the
fancy, in such wise that those that are false appear true, and those that are
true, false, And finally all the worst deceptions which are caused by the
devil, and the evils that he brings to the soul, enter by way of knowledge and
reflections of the memory, Thus if the memory enter into darkness with respect
to them all, and be annihilated in its oblivion to them, it shuts the door
altogether upon this evil which proceeds from the devil, and frees itself from
all these things, which is a great blessing. For the devil has no power over
the soul unless it be through the operations of its faculties, principally by
means of knowledge, whereupon depend almost all the other operations of the
other faculties. Wherefore, if the memory be annihilated with respect to them,
the devil can do naught; for he finds no foothold, and without a foothold he is
powerless.[497]
2. I
would that spiritual persons might clearly see how many kinds of harm are
wrought by evil spirits in their souls by means of the memory, when they devote
themselves frequently to making use of it, and how many kinds of sadness and
affliction and vain and evil joys they have, both with respect to their
thoughts about God, and also with respect to the things of the world; and how
many impurities are left rooted in their spirits; and likewise how greatly they
are distracted from the highest recollection, which consists in the fixing of
the whole soul, according to its faculties, upon the one incomprehensible Good,
and in withdrawing it from all things that can be apprehended, since these are
not incomprehensible Good. This is a great good (although less good results
from this emptiness than from the soul's fixing itself upon God), simply
because it is the cause whereby the soul frees itself from any griefs and
afflictions and sorrows, over and above the imperfections and sins from which
it is freed.
CHAPTER
V
Of
the third evil which comes to the soul by way of the distinct natural knowledge
or the memory.
THE
third evil which comes to the soul through the natural apprehensions of the
memory is privative; for these apprehensions can hinder moral good and deprive
us of spiritual good. And, in order that we may first of all explain how these
apprehensions hinder moral good in the soul, it must be known that moral good
consists in the restraining of the passions and the curbing of disorderly
desires, from which restraint there come to the soul tranquillity, peace and
rest, and moral virtues, all of which things are moral good. This restraining
and curbing of the passions cannot be truly accomplished by the soul that
forgets not and withdraws not itself from things pertaining to itself, whence
arise the affections; and no disturbances ever arise in the soul save through
the apprehensions of the memory. For, when all things are forgotten, there is
naught that can disturb peace or that moves the desires; since, as they say,
that which the eye sees not the heart desires not.
2. This
we are constantly learning by experience; for we observe that, whenever the
soul begins to think of any matter, it is moved and disturbed, either much or
little, with respect to that thing, according to the nature of its
apprehension. If it be a troublesome and grievous matter, the soul finds
sadness in it; if pleasant, desire and joy, and so forth. Wherefore the result
of the changing of that apprehension is necessarily disturbance; and thus the
soul is now joyful, now sad; now it hates, now loves; and it cannot continue in
one and the same attitude (which is an effect of moral tranquillity save when
it strives to forget all things. It is clear, then, that knowledge greatly
hinders the good of the moral virtues in the soul.
3.
Again, what has been said clearly proves that an encumbered memory also hinders
spiritual good; for the soul that is disturbed, and has no foundation of moral
good, is to that extent incapable of spiritual good, which impresses itself
only upon souls that are restrained and at peace. And besides this, if the soul
pays attention and heed to the apprehensions of the memory -- seeing that it
can attend to but one thing at a time -- and busies itself with things that can
be apprehended, such as the knowledge of the memory, it is not possible for it
to be free to attend to the incomprehensible, which is God. For, in order to
approach God, the soul must proceed by not comprehending rather than by
comprehending; it must exchange the mutable and comprehensible for the
immutable and incomprehensible.
CHAPTER
VI
Of
the benefits which come to the soul from forgetfulness and emptiness of all
thoughts and knowledge which it may have in a natural way with respect to the
memory.
FROM
the evils which, as we have said, come to the soul through the apprehensions of
the memory, we can likewise infer the benefits which are contrary to them and
come to the soul as a result of its forgetting them and emptying itself of
them. For, as natural philosophy puts it, the same doctrine which serves for
one thing serves likewise for the contrary. In the first place, the soul enjoys
tranquillity and peace of mind, since it is freed from the disturbance and the
changeableness which arise from thoughts and ideas of the memory, and
consequently, which is more important, it enjoys purity of conscience and soul.
And herein the soul has ample preparation for the acquiring of Divine and human
wisdom, and of the virtues.
2. In
the second place, it is freed from many suggestions, temptations and motions of
the devil, which he infuses into the soul by means of thoughts and ideas,
causing it to fall into many impurities and sins, as David says in these words:
'They have thought and spoken wickedness.'[498] And thus, when these
thoughts have been completely removed, the devil has naught wherewith to
assault the soul by natural means.
3. In
the third place, the soul has within itself, through this recollection of
itself and this forgetfulness as to all things, a preparedness to be moved by
the Holy Spirit and taught by Him, for, as the Wise Man says, He removes
Himself from thoughts that are without understanding.[499] Even if a man received no
other benefit from this forgetfulness and emptiness of the memory than being
freed thereby from troubles and disturbances, it would be a great gain and good
for him. For the troubles and storms which adverse things and happenings arouse
in the soul are of no use or help for bringing peace and calm;[500] indeed, as a rule, they
make things worse and also harm the soul itself. Wherefore David said: 'Of a
truth every man is disquieted in vain.'[501] For it is clear that to
disquiet oneself is always vain since it brings profit to none. And thus, even
if everything came to an end and were destroyed, and if all things went wrong
and turned to adversity, it would be vain to disturb oneself; for such
disturbance hurts a man rather than relieves him. Whereas to bear everything
with equable and peaceful tranquillity not only brings the soul the profit of
many blessings, but likewise causes it, even in the midst of its adversities,
to form a truer judgment about them and to find a fitting remedy.
4. For
this reason Solomon, being well acquainted both with the evil and with the
benefit of which we are speaking, said: 'I knew that there was naught better
for man than to rejoice and to do good in his life.'[502] By this he meant that, in
everything that happens to us, howsoever adverse it be, we should rejoice
rather than be disturbed, so that we may not lose a blessing which is greater
than any kind of prosperity -- namely, tranquillity and peace of mind in all
things, which, whether they bring adversity or prosperity, we must bear in the
same manner. This a man would never lose if he were not only to forget all
kinds of knowledge and put aside all thoughts, but would even withdraw himself
from hearing, sight and commerce with others, in so far as was possible for
him. Our nature is so frail and unstable that, however well it be disciplined,
it will hardly fail to stumble upon the remembrance of things which will
disturb and change a mind that was in peace and tranquillity when it remembered
them not. For this cause said Jeremias: 'With memory I will remember, and my
soul will fail me for pain.'[503]
CHAPTER
VII
Which
treats or the second kind or apprehension of the memory -- namely, imaginary
apprehensions -- and of supernatural knowledge.
ALTHOUGH
in writing of natural apprehensions of the first kind we also gave instruction
concerning the imaginary, which are likewise natural, it was well to make this
division because of the love which the memory always has for other forms and
kinds of knowledge, which are of supernatural things, such as visions,
revelations, locutions and feelings which come in a supernatural way. When
these things have passed through the soul, there is wont to remain impressed
upon it some image, form, figure or idea, whether in the soul or in the memory
or fancy, at times very vividly and effectively. Concerning these images it is
also needful to give advice, lest the memory be encumbered with them and they
be a hindrance to its union with God in perfect and pure hope.
2. I say
that the soul, in order to attain that blessing, must never reflect upon the
clear and distinct objects which may have passed through its mind by
supernatural means, in such a way as to preserve within itself the forms and
figures and knowledge of those things. For we must ever bear in mind this
principle: the greater heed the soul gives to any clear and distinct
apprehensions, whether natural or supernatural, the less capacity and
preparation it has for entering into the abyss of faith, wherein are absorbed
all things else. For, as has been said, no supernatural forms or kinds of
knowledge which can be apprehended by the memory are God, and, in order to
reach God, the soul must void itself of all that is not God. The memory must
also strip itself of all these forms and kinds of knowledge, that it may unite
itself with God in hope. For all possession is contrary to hope, which, as
Saint Paul says, belongs to that which is not possessed.[504] Wherefore, the more the
memory dispossesses itself, the greater is its hope; and the more it has of
hope, the more it has of union with God; for, with respect to God, the more the
soul hopes, the more it attains. And it hopes most when it is most completely
dispossessed; and, when it shall be perfectly dispossessed, it will remain with
the perfect possession of God, in Divine union. But there are many who will not
deprive themselves of the sweetness and delight which memory finds in those
forms and notions, wherefore they attain not to supreme possession and perfect
sweetness. For he that renounces not all that he possesses cannot be the
disciple of Christ.[505]
CHAPTER
VIII
Of
the evils which may be caused in the soul by the knowledge of supernatural
things, if it reflect upon them. Says how many these evils are.
THE
spiritual man incurs the risk of five kinds of evil if he pays heed to, and
reflects upon, these forms and ideas which are impressed upon him by the things
which pass through his mind in a supernatural way.
2. The
first is that he is frequently deceived, and mistakes one thing for another.
The second is that he is like to fall, and is exposed to the danger of falling,
into some form of presumption or vanity. The third is that the devil has many
occasions of deceiving him by means of the apprehensions aforementioned. The
fourth is that he is hindered as to union in hope with God. The fifth is that,
for the most part, he has a low judgment of God.
3. As to
the first evil, it is clear that, if the spiritual man pays heed to these forms
and notions, and reflects upon them, he must frequently be deceived in his
judgment of them; for, as no man can have a complete understanding of the
things that pass through his imagination naturally, nor a perfect and certain
judgment about them, he will be much less able still to have this with respect
to supernatural things, which are above our capacity to understand, and occur
but rarely. Wherefore he will often think that what comes but from his fancy
pertains to God; and often, too, that what is of God is of the devil, and what
is of the devil is of God. And very often there will remain with him
deap-seated impressions of forms and ideas concerning the good and evil of
others, or of himself, together with other figures which have been presented to
him: these he will consider to be most certain and true, when in fact they will
not be so, but very great falsehoods. And others will be true, and he will
judge them to be false, although this error I consider safer, as it is apt to
arise from humility.
4. And,
even if he be not deceived as to their truth, he may well be deceived as to
their quantity or quality, thinking that little things are great, and great
things, little. And with respect to their quality, he may consider what is in
his imagination to be this or that, when it is something quite different; he
may put, as Isaias says, darkness for light, and light for darkness, or bitter for
sweet, and sweet for bitter.[506] And finally, even though he
be correct as to one thing, it will be a marvel if he goes not astray with
respect to the next; for, although he may not desire to apply his judgment to
the judging of them, yet, if he apply it in paying heed to them, this will be
sufficient to make some evil to cling to him as a result of it, at least
passively; if not evil of this kind, then of one of the four other kinds of
which we shall shortly speak.
5. It
behoves the spiritual man, therefore, lest he fall into this evil of being
deceived in his judgment, not to desire to apply his judgment in order to know
the nature of his own condition or feelings, or the nature of such and such a
vision, idea or feeling; neither should he desire to know it or to pay heed to
it. This he should only desire in order to speak of it to his spiritual father,
and to be taught by him how to void his memory of these apprehensions. For,
whatever may be their intrinsic nature, they cannot help him to love God as
much as the smallest act of living faith and hope performed in the emptiness
and renunciation of all things.
CHAPTER
IX
Of
the second kind of evil, which is the peril of falling into self-esteem and
vain presumption.
THE
supernatural apprehensions of the memory already described are also a frequent
occasion to spiritual persons of falling into some kind of presumption or
vanity, if they give heed to them and set store by them. For, even as he who
knows nothing of them is quite free from falling into this vice, since he sees
in himself no occasion of presumption, even so, in contrary wise, he that has
experience of them has close at hand an occasion for thinking himself to be
something, since he possesses these supernatural communications. For, although
it is true that he may attribute them to God, hold himself to be unworthy of
them, and give God the thanks, yet nevertheless there is wont to remain in his
spirit a certain secret satisfaction, and a self-esteem and a sense of their
value, from which, without his knowledge, there will come to him great
spiritual pride.
2. This
may be observed very clearly by such as will consider the dislike and aversion
caused them by any who do not praise their spirituality, or esteem the
experiences which they enjoy, and the mortification which they suffer when they
think or are told that others have just those same experiences, or even
superior ones. All this arises from secret self-esteem and pride, and they can
never quite realize that they are steeped in pride up to their very eyes. For
they think that a certain degree of recognition of their own wretchedness
suffices, and, although they have this, they are full of secret self-esteem and
self-satisfaction, taking more delight in their own spirituality and spiritual
gifts than in those of others. They are like the Pharisee who gave thanks to
God that he was not as other men, and that he practised such and such virtues,
whereat he was satisfied with himself and presumed thereon.[507] Such men, although they may
not use the Pharisee's actual words, habitually resemble him in spirit. And
some of them even become so proud that they are worse than the devil. For,
observing in themselves, as they imagine, certain apprehensions and feelings
concerning God which are devout and sweet, they become self-satisfied to such
an extent that they believe themselves to be very near God; and those that are
not like themselves they consider very low and despise them after the manner of
the Pharisee.
3. In
order to flee from this pestilent evil, abhorrent in the eyes of God, they must
consider two things. First, that virtue consists not in apprehensions and
feelings concerning God, howsoever sublime they be, nor in anything of this
kind that a man can feel within himself; but, on the contrary, in that which
has nothing to do with feeling -- namely, a great humility and contempt of
oneself and of all that pertains to oneself, firmly rooted in the soul and
keenly felt by it; and likewise in being glad that others feel in this very way
concerning oneself and in not wishing to be of any account in the esteem[508] of others.
4.
Secondly, it must be noted that all visions, revelations and feelings coming
from Heaven, and any thoughts that may proceed from these, are of less worth
than the least act of humility. And humility is one of the effects of charity,
which esteems not its own things nor strives to attain them; nor thinks evil,
save of itself; nor thinks any good thing of itself, but only of others. It is
well, therefore, that these supernatural apprehensions should not attract men's
eyes, but that they should strive to forget them in order that they may be
free.
CHAPTER
X
Of
the third evil that may come to the soul from the devil, through the imaginary
apprehensions of the memory.
FROM
all that has been said above it may be clearly understood and inferred how
great is the evil that may come to the soul from the devil by way of these
supernatural apprehensions. For not only can he represent to the memory and the
fancy many false forms and ideas, which seem true and good, impressing them on
spirit and sense with great effectiveness and certifying them to be true by
means of suggestion (so that it appears to the soul that it cannot be
otherwise, but that everything is even as he represents it; for, as he
transfigures himself into an angel of light, he appears as light to the soul);
but he may also tempt the soul in many ways with respect to true knowledge,
which is of God, moving its desires and affections, whether spiritual or
sensual, in unruly fashion with respect to these; for, if the soul takes
pleasure in such apprehensions, it is very easy for the devil to cause its
desires and affections to grow within it, and to make it fall into spiritual gluttony
and other evils.
2. And,
in order the better to do this, he is wont to suggest and give pleasure,
sweetness and delight to the senses with respect to these same things of God,
so that the soul is corrupted and bewildered[509] by that sweetness, and is
thus blinded with that pleasure and sets its eyes on pleasure rather than on
love (or, at least, very much more than upon love), and gives more heed to the
apprehensions than to the detachment and emptiness which are found in faith and
hope and love of God. And from this he may go on gradually to deceive the soul
and cause it to believe his falsehoods with great facility. For to the soul
that is blind falsehood no longer appears to be falsehood, nor does evil appear
to be evil, etc.; for darkness appears to be light, and light, darkness; and
hence that soul comes to commit a thousand foolish errors, whether with respect
to natural things, or to moral things, or to spiritual things; so that that
which was wine to it becomes vinegar. All this happens to the soul because it
began not, first of all, by denying itself the pleasure of those supernatural
things. At first this is a small matter, and not very harmful, and the soul has
therefore no misgivings, and allows it to continue, and it grows, like the
grain of mustard seed, into a tall tree. For a small error at the beginning, as
they say, becomes a great error in the end.
3.
Wherefore, in order to flee from this great evil, which comes from the devil,
the soul must not desire to have any pleasure in such things, because such
pleasure will most surely lead it to become blind and to fall. For of their own
nature, and without the help of the devil, pleasure and delight and sweetness
blinds the soul. And this was the meaning of David when he said: 'Perhaps
darkness shall blind me in my delights and I shall have the night for my
light.'[510]
CHAPTER
XI
Of
the fourth evil that comes to the soul from the distinct supernatural
apprehensions of the memory, which is the hindrance that it interposes to
union.
CONCERNING
this fourth evil there is not much to be said, since it has already been
treated again and again in this third book, wherein we have proved how, in
order that the soul may come to union with God in hope, it must renounce every
possession of the memory; for, in order that its hope in God may be perfect, it
must have naught in the memory that is not God. And, as we have likewise said,
no form or figure or image or other kind of knowledge that may come to the
memory can be God, neither can be like Him, whether it be of heaven or of
earth, natural or supernatural, even as David teaches, when he says: 'Lord,
among the gods there is none like unto Thee.'[511]
2.
Wherefore, if the memory desires to pay heed to any of these things, it hinders
the soul from reaching God; first, because it encumbers it, and next because,
the more the soul has of possession, the less it has of hope. Wherefore it is
needful for the soul to be stripped of the distinct forms and the knowledge of
supernatural things, and to become oblivious to them, so that the memory may
cause no hindrance to its union with God in perfect hope.
CHAPTER
XII
Of
the fifth evil that may come to the soul in supernatural imaginary forms and
apprehensions, which is a low and unseemly judgment or God.
NO
less serious is the fifth evil that comes to the soul from its desire to retain
in the memory and imagination the said forms and images of things that are
supernaturally communicated to it, above all if it desires to use them as a
means to Divine union. For it is a very easy thing to judge of the Being and
greatness of God less worthily and nobly than befits His incomprehensible
nature; for, although our reason and judgment may form no express conception
that God is like any one of these things, yet the very esteeming of these
apprehensions, if in fact the soul esteems them, makes and causes it not to
esteem God, or not to feel concerning Him, as highly as faith teaches, since
faith tells us that He is incomparable, incomprehensible, and so forth. For,
quite apart from the fact that the soul takes from God all that it gives to the
creature, it is natural that its esteem of these apprehensible things should
lead it to make a certain inward comparison between such things and God, which
would prevent it from judging and esteeming God as highly as it ought. For the
creatures, whether terrestrial or celestial, and all distinct images and kinds
of knowledge, both natural and supernatural, that can be encompassed by the
faculties of the soul, however lofty they be in this life, have no comparison
or proportion with the Being of God, since God falls within no genus and no
species, whereas the creatures do, or so the theologians tell us. And the soul
in this life is not capable of receiving in a clear and distinct manner aught
save that which falls within genus and species. For this cause Saint John says
that no man hath seen God at any time.[512] And Isaias says it has not
entered into the heart of man what God is like.[513] And God said to Moses that
he could not see Him while he was in this mortal state.[514] Wherefore he that encumbers
his memory and the other faculties of the soul with that which they can
comprehend cannot esteem God, neither feel concerning Him, as he ought.
2. Let
us make a comparison on a lower level. It is clear that the more a man fixes
his eyes upon the servants of a king, and the more notice he takes of them, the
less notice does he take of the king himself, and the less does he esteem him;
for, although this comparison may not be formally and distinctly present in the
understanding, it is inherent in the act, since, the more attention the man
gives to the servants, the more he takes from their lord; and he cannot have a
very high opinion of the king if the servants appear to him to be of any
importance while they are in the presence of the king, their lord. Even so does
the soul treat its God when it pays heed to the creatures aforementioned. This
comparison, however, is on a very low level, for, as we have said, God is of
another being than His creatures in that He is infinitely far from them all.
For this reason they must all be banished from sight, and the soul must
withdraw its gaze from them in all their forms, that it may yet gaze on God
through faith and hope.
3.
Wherefore those who not only pay heed to the imaginary apprehensions
aforementioned, but suppose God to be like some of them, and think that by
means of them they will be able to attain to union with God, have already gone
far astray and will ever continue to lose the light of faith in the
understanding, through which this faculty is united with God; neither will they
grow in the loftiness of hope, by means whereof the memory is united with God
in hope, which must be brought about through disunion from all that is of the
imagination.
CHAPTER
XIII
Of
the benefits which the soul receives through banishing from itself the
apprehensions of the imagination. This chapter answers a certain objection and
explains a difference which exists between apprehensions that are imaginary,
natural and supernatural.
THE
benefits that come from voiding the imagination of imaginary forms can be
clearly observed in the five evils aforementioned which they inflict upon the
soul, if it desires to retain them, even as we also said of the natural forms.
But, apart from these, there are other benefits for the spirit -- namely, those
of great rest and quiet. For, setting aside that natural rest which the soul
obtains when it is free from images and forms, it likewise becomes free from
anxiety as to whether they are good or evil, and as to how it must behave with
respect to the one and to the other. Nor has it to waste the labour and time of
its spiritual masters by requiring them to decide if these things are good or
evil, and if they are of this kind or of another; for the soul has no need to
desire to know all this if it pays no heed to them. The time and energies which
it would have wasted in dealing with these images and forms can be better
employed in another and a more profitable exercise, which is that of the will
with respect to God, and in having a care to seek detachment and poverty of
spirit and sense, which consists in desiring earnestly to be without any
consoling support that can be apprehended, whether interior or exterior. This
we practise well when we desire and strive to strip ourselves of these forms,
since from this there will proceed no less a benefit than that of approach to
God (Who has no image, neither form nor figure), and this will be the greater
according as the soul withdraws itself the more completely from all forms,
images and figures of the imagination.
2. But
perchance you will say: 'Why do many spiritual persons counsel the soul to
strive to profit by the communications and feelings which come from God, and to
desire to receive them from Him, that it may have something to give Him; since,
if He gives us nothing, we shall give Him nothing likewise? And wherefore does
Saint Paul say: 'Quench not the spirit?"[515] And the Spouse to the
Bride: "Set Me as a seal upon thy heart and as a seal upon thine
arm?"[516] This certainly denotes some
kind of apprehension. And, according to the instruction given above, not only
must all this not be striven after, but, even though God sends it, it must be
rejected and cast aside. But surely it is clear that, since God gives it, He
gives it to a good purpose, and it will have a good effect. We must not throw
away pearls. And it is even a kind of pride to be unwilling to receive the
things of God, as if we could do without them and were self-sufficient.'
3. In
order to meet this objection it is necessary to recall what we said in the
fifteenth and sixteenth chapters[517] of the second book, where
to a great extent the difficulty is solved. For we said there that the good
that overflows in the soul from supernatural apprehensions, when they come from
a good source, is produced passively in the soul at that very instant when they
are represented to the senses, without the working of any operation of the
faculties. Wherefore it is unnecessary for the will to perform the act of
receiving them; for, as we have also said, if at that time the soul should try
to labour with its faculties, the effect of its own base and natural operation
would be to hinder the supernatural graces[518] which God is even then
working in it rather than that, through these apprehensions, God should cause
it to derive any benefit from its active labour. Nay, rather, as the
spirituality coming from those imaginary apprehensions is given passively to
the soul, even so must the soul conduct itself passively with respect to them,
setting no store by its inward or outward actions. To do this is to preserve
the feelings that have their source in God, for in this way they are not lost
through the soul's base manner of working. And this is not quenching the
spirit; for the spirit would be quenched by the soul if it desired to behave in
any other manner than that whereby God is leading it. And this it would be
doing if, when God had given it spiritual graces[519] passively, as He does in
these apprehensions, it should then desire to exert itself actively with
respect to them, by labouring with its understanding or by seeking to find
something in them. And this is clear because, if the soul desires to labour at
that time with its own exertions, its work cannot be more than natural, for of
itself it is capable of no more; for supernaturally it neither moves itself nor
can move itself -- it is God that moves it and brings it to this state. And
thus, if the soul at that time desires to labour with its own exertions (as far
as lies in its power), its active working will hinder the passive work that God
is communicating to it, which is spirit.[520] It will be setting itself
to its own work, which is of another and an inferior kind than that which God
communicates to it; for the work of God is passive and supernatural, and that
of the soul is active and natural; and in this way the soul would therefore be
quenching the spirit.
4. That
this activity of the soul is an inferior one is also clear from the fact that
the faculties of the soul cannot, of their own power, reflect and act, save
upon some form, figure and image, and this is the rind and accident of the
substance and spirit which lie beneath this rind and accident. This substance
and spirit unite not with the faculties of the soul in true understanding and
love, save when at last the operation of the faculties ceases. For the aim and
end of this operation is only that the substance which can be understood and
loved and which lies beneath these forms may come to be received in the soul.
The difference, therefore, between active and passive operation, and the superiority
of the latter, corresponds to the difference between that which is being done
and that which is done already, or between that which a man tries to attain and
effect and that which is already effected. Hence it may likewise be inferred
that, if the soul should desire to employ its faculties actively on these
supernatural apprehensions, wherein God, as we have said, bestows the spirit of
them passively, it would be doing nothing less than abandoning what it had
already done, in order to do it again, neither would it enjoy what it had done,
nor could it produce any other result by these actions of its own, save that of
impeding what had been done already. For, as we say, the faculties cannot of
their own power attain to the spirituality which God bestows upon the soul
without any operation of their own. And thus the soul would be directly
quenching the spirituality[521] which God infuses through
these imaginary apprehensions aforementioned if it were to set any store by
them; wherefore it must set them aside, and take up a passive and negative
attitude with regard to them. For at that time God is moving the soul to things
which are above its own power and knowledge. For this cause the Prophet said:
'I will stand upon my watch and set my step upon my tower, and I will watch to
see that which will be said to me.'[522] This is as though he were
to say: I will stand on guard over my faculties and I will take no step forward
as to my actions, and thus I shall be able to contemplate that which will be
said to me -- that is, I shall understand and enjoy that which will be communicated
to me supernaturally.
5. And
the passage which has been quoted concerning the Spouse is to be understood as
referring to the love that He entreats of the Bride, the office of which love
between two lovers is to make one like to the other in the most vital part of
them. Wherefore He tells her to set Him as a seal upon her heart,[523] where all the arrows strike
that leave the quiver of love, which arrows are the actions and motives of
love. So they will all strike Him Who is there as a mark for them; and thus all
will be for Him, so that the soul will become like Him through the actions and
motions of love, until it be transformed in Him. Likewise he bids her set Him
as a seal upon her arm, because the arm performs[524] the exercise of love, for
by the arm the Beloved is sustained and comforted.
6.
Therefore all that the soul has to endeavour to do with respect to all the
apprehensions which come to it from above, whether imaginary or of any other
kind -- it matters not if they be visions, locutions, feelings or revelations
-- is to make no account of the letter or the rind (that is, of what is
signified or represented or given to be understood), but to pay heed only to
the possession of the love of God which they cause interiorly within the soul.
And in this case the soul will make account, not of feelings of sweetness or
delight, nor of figures, but of the feelings of love which they cause it. And
with this sole end in view it may at times recall that image and apprehension
caused it by love, in order to set the spirit on its course of love. For,
though the effect of that apprehension be not so great afterwards, when it is
recalled, as it was on the first occasion when it was communicated, yet, when
it is recalled, love is renewed, and the mind is lifted up to God, especially
when the recollection is of certain figures, images or feelings which are
supernatural, and are wont to be sealed and imprinted upon the soul in such a
way that they continue for a long time -- some of them, indeed, never leave the
soul. And those that are thus sealed upon the soul produce in it Divine effects
of love, sweetness, light and so forth, on almost every occasion when the soul
returns to them, sometimes more so and sometimes less; for it was to this end
that they were impressed upon it. And thus this is a great favour for the soul
on which God bestows it, for it is as though it had within itself a mine of
blessings.
7. The
figures which produce effects such as these are deeply implanted in the soul,
and are not like other images and forms that are retained in the fancy. And
thus the soul has no need to have recourse to this faculty when it desires to
recall them, for it sees that it has them within itself, and that they are as
an image seen in the mirror. When it comes to pass that any soul has such
figures formally within itself, it will then do well to recall them to the
effect of love to which I have referred, for they will be no hindrance to the
union of love in faith, since the soul will not desire to be absorbed in the
figure, but only to profit by the love; it will immediately set aside the
figure, which thus will rather be a help to it.
8. Only
with great difficulty can it be known when these images are imprinted upon the
soul, and when upon the fancy. For those which touch the fancy are as apt to
occur very frequently as are the others; for certain persons are accustomed
habitually to have imaginary visions in their imagination and fancy, which are
presented to them in one form with great frequency; sometimes because the
apprehensive power of the organ concerned is very great, and, however little
they reflect upon it, that habitual figure is at once presented to, and
outlined upon, their fancy; sometimes because it is the work of the devil;
sometimes, again, because it is the work of God; but the visions are not
formally imprinted upon the soul. They may be known, however, by their effects.
For those that are natural, or that come from the devil, produce no good effect
upon the soul, however frequently they be recalled, nor work its spiritual
renewal, but the contemplation of them simply produces aridity. Those that are
good, however, produce some good effect when they are recalled, like that which
was produced in the soul upon the first occasion. But the formal images which
are imprinted upon the soul almost invariably produce some effect in it,
whensoever they are remembered.
9. He
that has experienced these will readily distinguish the one kind from the
other, for the great difference between them is very clear to anyone that has
experience of them. I will merely say that those which are formally and durably
imprinted upon the soul are of very rare occurrence. But, whether they be of
this kind or of that, it is good for the soul to desire to understand nothing,
save God alone, through faith, in hope. And if anyone makes the objection that
to reject these things, if they are good, appears to be pride, I reply that it
is not so, but that it is prudent humility to profit by them in the best way,
as has been said, and to be guided by that which is safest.
CHAPTER
XIV
Which
treats of spiritual knowledge in so far as it may concern the memory.
WE
classed spiritual forms of knowledge as the third division of the apprehensions
of the memory, not because they belong to the bodily sense of the fancy, as do
the others, for they have no bodily form and image, but because they are
likewise apprehensible by spiritual memory and reminiscence. Now, after the
soul has had experience of one of these apprehensions, it can recall it
whensoever it will; and this is not by the effigy and image that the
apprehension has left in the bodily sense, for, since this is of bodily form,
as we say, it has no capacity for spiritual forms; but because it recalls it,
intellectually and spiritually, by means of that form which it has left
impressed upon the soul, which is likewise a formal or spiritual form or notion
or image, whereby it is recalled, or by means of the effect that it has
wrought. It is for this reason that I place these apprehensions among those of
the memory, although they belong not to the apprehensions of the fancy.
2. What
these kinds of knowledge are, and how the soul is to conduct itself with
respect to them in order to attain to union with God, are sufficiently
described in the twenty-fourth chapter[525] of the second book, where
we treated this knowledge as apprehensions of the understanding. Let this be
referred to, for we there described how it was of two kinds: either uncreated
or of the creatures. I speak now only of things relating to my present purpose
-- namely, how the memory must behave with respect to them in order to attain
to union. And I say, as I have just said of formal knowledge in the preceding
chapter (for this, being of created things, is of the same kind), that these
apprehensions my be recalled when they produce good effects, not that they may
be dwelt upon, but that they may quicken the soul's love and knowledge of God.
But, unless the recollection of them produces good effects, let the memory
never give them even passing attention. With regard to uncreated knowledge, I
say that the soul should try to recall it as often as possible, for it will
produce most beneficial effects. As we said above, it produces touches and
impressions of union with God, which is the aim towards which we are directing
the soul. And by no form, image or figure which can be impressed upon the soul
does the memory recall these (for these touches and impressions of union with
the Creator have no form), but only by the effects which they have produced
upon it of light, love, joy and spiritual renewal, and so forth, some of which
are wrought anew in the soul whensoever they are remembered.
CHAPTER
XV
Which
sets down the general method whereby the spiritual person must govern himself
with respect to this sense.
IN
order to conclude this discussion on the memory, it will be well at this point
to give the spiritual reader an account of the method which he must observe,
and which is of universal application, in order that he may be united with God
according to this sense. For, although what has been said makes the subject
quite clear, it will nevertheless be more easily apprehended if we summarize it
here. To this end it must be remembered that, since our aim is the union of the
soul with God in hope, according to the memory, and since that which is hoped
for is that which is not possessed, and since, the less we possess of other
things, the greater scope and the greater capacity have we for hoping, and
consequently the greater hope, therefore, the more things we possess, the less
scope and capacity is there for hoping, and consequently the less hope have we.
Hence, the more the soul dispossesses the memory of forms and things which may
be recalled by it, which are not God, the more will it set its memory upon God,
and the emptier will its memory become, so that it may hope for Him Who shall
fill it. What must be done, then, that the soul may live in the perfect and
pure hope of God is that, whensoever these distinct images, forms and ideas
come to it, it must not rest in them, but must turn immediately to God, voiding
the memory of them entirely, with loving affection. It must neither think of
these things nor consider them beyond the degree which is necessary for the
understanding and performing of its obligations, if they have any concern with
these. And this it must do without setting any affection or inclination upon
them, so that they may produce no effects in the soul. And thus a man must not
fail to think and recall that which he ought to know and do, for, provided he
preserves no affection or attachments, this will do him no harm. For this
matter the lines of the Mount, which are in the thirteenth chapter of the first
book, will be of profit.
2. But
here it must be borne in mind that this doctrine ours does not agree, nor do we
desire that it should agree, with the doctrine of those pestilent men, who,
inspired by Satanic pride and envy, have desired to remove from the eyes of the
faithful the holy and necessary use, and the worthy[526] adoration, of images of God
and of the saints. This teaching of ours is very different from that; for we
say not here, as they do, that images should not exist, and should not be
adored; we simply explain the difference between images and God. We exhort men
to pass beyond that which is superficial[527] that they may not be
hindered from attaining to the living truth beneath it, and to make no more
account of the former than suffices for attainment to the spiritual. For means
are good and necessary to an end; and images are means which serve to remind us
of God and of the saints. But when we consider and attend to the means more
than is necessary for treating them as such, they disturb and hinder us as
much, in their own way, as any different thing; the more so, when we treat of
supernatural visions and images, to which I am specially referring, and with
respect to which arise many deceptions and perils. For, with respect to the
remembrance and adoration and esteem of images, which the Catholic Church sets
before us, there can be no deception or peril, because naught is esteemed
therein other than that which is represented; nor does the remembrance of them
fail to profit the soul, since they are not preserved in the memory save with
love for that which they represent; and, provided the soul pays no more heed to
them than is necessary for this purpose, they will ever assist it to union with
God, allowing the soul to soar upwards (when God grants it that favour) from
the superficial image[528] to the living God,
forgetting every creature and everything that belongs to creatures.
CHAPTER
XVI
Which
begins to treat of the dark night of the will. Makes a division between the
affections of the will.
WE
should have accomplished nothing by the purgation of the understanding in order
to ground it in the virtue of faith, and by the purgation of the memory in
order to ground it in hope, if we purged not the will also according to the third
virtue, which is charity, whereby the works that are done in faith live and
have great merit, and without it are of no worth. For, as Saint James says:
'Without works of charity, faith is dead.'[529] And, now that we have to
treat of the active detachment and night of this faculty, in order to form it
and make it perfect in this virtue of the charity of God, I find no more
fitting authority than that which is written in the sixth chapter of
Deuteronomy, where Moses says: 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole
heart and with thy whole soul and with thy whole strength.'[530] Herein is contained all
that the spiritual man ought to do, and all that I have here to teach him, so
that he may truly attain to God, through union of the will, by means of
charity. For herein man is commanded to employ all the faculties and desires
and operations and affections of his soul in God, so that all the ability and
strength of his soul may serve for no more than this, according to that which
David says, in these words: Fortitudinem meam ad te custodiam.[531]
2. The
strength of the soul consists in its faculties, passions and desires, all of
which are governed by the will. Now when these faculties, passions and desires
are directed by the will toward God, and turned away from all that is not God,
then the strength of the soul is kept for God, and thus the soul is able to
love God with all its strength. And, to the end that the soul may do this, we
shall here treat of the purgation from the will of all its unruly affections,
whence arise unruly operations, affections and desires, and whence also arises
its failure to keep all its strength for God. These affections and passions are
four, namely: Joy, hope, grief and fear. These passions, when they are
controlled by reason according to the way of God, so that the soul rejoices
only in that which is purely the honour and glory of God, and hopes for naught
else, neither grieves save for things that concern this, neither fears aught
save God alone, it is clear that the strength and ability of the soul are being
directed toward God and kept for Him. For, the more the soul rejoices in any
other thing than God, the less completely will it centre its rejoicing in God;[532] and the more it hopes in
aught else, the less will it hope in God; and so with the other passions.
3. And
in order to give fuller instructions concerning this, we shall treat, in turn
and in detail, as is our custom, of each of these four passions and of the
desires of the will. For the whole business of attaining to union with God
consists in purging the will from its affections and desires; so that thus it
may no longer be a base, human will, but may become a Divine will, being made
one[533] with the will of God.
4. These
four passions have the greater dominion in the soul, and assail it the more
vehemently, when the will is less strongly attached to God and more dependent
on the creatures. For then it rejoices very readily at things that merit not
rejoicing, hopes in that which brings no profit, grieves over that in which
perchance it ought to rejoice, and fears where there is no reason for fearing.
5. From
these affections, when they are unbridled, arise in the soul all the vices and
imperfections which it possesses, and likewise, when they are ordered and
composed, all its virtues. And it must be known that, if one of them should
become ordered and controlled by reason, the rest will become so likewise; for
these four passions of the soul are so closely and intimately united to one
another that the actual direction of one is the virtual direction of the
others; and if one be actually recollected the other three will virtually and
proportionately be recollected likewise. For, if the will rejoice in anything
it will as a result hope for the same thing to the extent of its rejoicing, and
herein are virtually included grief and fear with regard to the same thing;
and, in proportion as desire for these is taken away, fear and grief concerning
them are likewise gradually lost, and hope for them is removed. For the will,
with these four passions, is denoted by that figure which was seen by Ezechiel,
of four beasts with one body, which had four faces; and the wings of the one
were joined to those of the other, and each one went straight before his face,
and when they went forward they turned not back.[534] And thus in the same manner
the wings of each one of these affections are joined to those of each of the
others, so that, in whichever direction one of them turns -- that is, in its
operation -- the others of necessity go with it virtually also; and, when one
of them descends, as is there said, they must all descend, and, when one is
lifted up, they will all be lifted up. Where thy hope is, thither will go thy
joy and fear and grief; and, if thy hope returns, the others will return, and
so of the rest.
6.
Wherefore thou must take note that, wheresoever one of these passions is,
thither will go likewise the whole soul and the will and the other faculties,
and they will all live as captives to this passion, and the other three
passions will be living in it also, to afflict the soul with their captivity,
and not to allow it to fly upward to the liberty and rest of sweet
contemplation and union. For this cause Boetius told thee that, if thou
shouldst desire to understand truth with clear light, thou must cast from thee
joys, hope, fear and grief.[535] For, as long as these
passions reign, they allow not the soul to remain in the tranquillity and peace
which are necessary for the wisdom which, by natural or supernatural means, it
is capable of receiving.
CHAPTER
XVII
Which
begins to treat of the first affections of the will. Describes the nature of
joy and makes a distinction between the things in which the will can rejoice.
THE
first of the passions of the soul and affections of the will is joy, which, in
so far as concerns that which we propose to say about it, is naught else than a
satisfaction of the will together with esteem for something which it considers
desirable; for the will never rejoices save when an object affords it
appreciation and satisfaction. This has reference to active joy, which arises
when the soul clearly and distinctly understands the reason for its rejoicing,
and when it is in its own power to rejoice or not. There is another and a
passive joy, a condition in which the will may find itself rejoicing without
understanding clearly and distinctly the reason for its rejoicing, and which
also occurs at times when it does understand this; but it is not in the soul's
power to rejoice or not. Of this condition we shall speak hereafter. For the
present we shall speak of joy when it is active and voluntary and arises from things
that are distinct and clear.
2. Joy
may arise from six kinds of good things or blessings,[536] namely: temporal, natural,
sensual, moral, supernatural and spiritual. Of these we shall speak in their
order, controlling the will with regard to them so that it may not be
encumbered by them and fail to place the strength of its joy in God. To this
end it is well to presuppose one fundamental truth, which will be as a staff
whereon we should ever lean as we progress; and it will be well to have
understood it, because it is the light whereby we should be guided and whereby
we may understand this doctrine, and direct our rejoicing in all these
blessings to God. This truth is that the will must never rejoice save only in
that which is to the honour and glory of God; and that the greatest honour we
can show to Him is that of serving Him according to evangelical perfection; and
anything that has naught to do with this is of no value and profit to man.
CHAPTER
XVIII
Which
treats of joy with respect to temporal blessings. Describes how joy in them
must be directed to God.
THE
first kind of blessing of which we have spoken is temporal. And by temporal
blessings we here understand riches, rank, office and other things that men
desire; and children, relatives, marriages, etc.: all of which are things
wherein the will may rejoice. But it is clear how vain a thing it is for men to
rejoice in riches, titles, rank, office and other such things which they are
wont to desire; for, if a man were the better servant of God for being rich, he
ought to rejoice in riches; but in fact they are rather a cause for his giving
offence to God, even as the Wise Man teaches, saying: 'Son, if thou be rich,
thou shalt not be free from sin.'[537] Although it is true that
temporal blessings do not necessarily of themselves cause sin, yet, through the
frailty of its affections, the heart of man habitually clings to them and fails
God (which is a sin, for to fail God is sin); it is for this cause that the
Wise Man says: 'Thou shalt not be free from sin.' For this reason the Lord described
riches, in the Gospel, as thorns,[538] in order to show that he
who touches them[539] with the will shall be
wounded by some sin. And that exclamation which He makes in the Gospel, saying:
'How hardly shall they that have riches enter the Kingdom of the heavens' --
that is to say, they that have joy in riches -- clearly shows that man must not
rejoice in riches, since he exposes himself thereby to such great peril.[540] And David, in order to
withdraw us from this peril, said likewise: 'If riches abound, set not your
heart on them.'[541] And I will not here quote
further testimony on so clear a matter.
2. For
in that case I should never cease quoting Scripture, nor should I cease
describing the evils which Solomon imputes to riches in Ecclesiastes. Solomon
was a man who had possessed great riches, and, knowing well what they were,
said: 'All things that are under the sun are vanity of vanities, vexation of
spirit and vain solicitude of the mind.'[542] And he that loves riches,
he said, shall reap no fruit from them.[543] And he adds that riches are
kept to the hurt of their owner,[544] as we see in the Gospel,
where it was said from Heaven to the man that rejoiced because he had kept many
fruits for many years: 'Fool, this night shall thy soul be required of thee to
give account thereof, and whose shall be that which thou has provided?'[545] And finally, David teaches
us the same, saying: 'Let us have no envy when our neighbour becomes rich, for
it will profit him nothing in the life to come;'[546] meaning thereby that we
might rather have pity on him.
3. It
follows, then, that a man must neither rejoice in riches when he has them, nor
when his brother has them, unless they help them to serve God. For if ever it
is allowable to rejoice in them, it will be when they are spent and employed in
the service of God, for otherwise no profit will be derived from them. And the
same is to be understood of other blessings (titles, offices, etc.), in all of
which it is vain to rejoice if a man feel not that God is the better served
because of them and the way to eternal life is made more secure. And as it
cannot be clearly known if this is so (if God is better served, etc.), it would
be a vain thing to rejoice in these things deliberately, since such a joy
cannot be reasonable. For, as the Lord says: 'If a man gain all the world, he
may yet lose his soul.'[547] There is naught, then,
wherein to rejoice save in the fact that God is better served.
4.
Neither is there cause for rejoicing in children because they are many, or
rich, or endowed with natural graces and talents and the good things of
fortune, but only if they serve God. For Absalom, the son of David, found
neither his beauty nor his riches nor his lineage of any service to him because
he served not God.[548] Hence it was a vain thing
to have rejoiced in such a son. For this reason it is also a vain thing for men
to desire to have children, as do some who trouble and disturb everyone with
their desire for them, since they know not if such children will be good and
serve God. Nor do they know if their satisfaction in them will be turned into
pain; nor if the comfort and consolation which they should have from them will
change to disquiet and trial; and the honour which they should bring them, into
dishonour; nor if they will cause them to give greater offence to God, as
happens to many. Of these Christ says that they go round about the sea and the
land to enrich them and to make them doubly the children of perdition which
they are themselves.[549]
5.
Wherefore, though all things smile upon a man and all that he does turns out
prosperously, he ought to have misgivings rather than to rejoice; for these
things increase the occasion and peril of his forgetting God. For this cause
Solomon says, in Ecclesiastes, that he was cautious: 'Laughter I counted error
and to rejoicing I said, "Why art thou vainly deceived?"'[550] Which is as though he had
said: When things smiled upon me I counted it error and deception to rejoice in
them; for without doubt it is a great error and folly on the part of a man if
he rejoice when things are bright and pleasant for him, knowing not of a
certainty that there will come to him thence some eternal good. The heart of the
fool, says the Wise Man, is where there is mirth, but that of the wise man is
where there is sorrow.[551] For mirth blinds the heart
and allows it not to consider things and ponder them; but sadness makes a man
open his eyes and look at the profit and the harm of them. And hence it is
that, as he himself says, anger is better than laughter.[552] Wherefore it is better to
go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting; for in the former is
figured the end of all men,[553] as the Wise Man says
likewise.
6. It
would therefore be vanity for a woman or her husband to rejoice in their
marriage when they know not clearly that they are serving God better thereby.
They ought rather to feel confounded, since matrimony is a cause, as Saint Paul
says, whereby each one sets his heart upon the other and keeps it not wholly
with God. Wherefore he says: 'If thou shouldst find thyself free from a wife,
desire not to seek a wife; while he that has one already should walk with such
freedom of heart as though he had her not.'[554] This, together with what we
have said concerning temporal blessings, he teaches us himself, in these words:
'This is certain; as I say to you, brethren, the time is short; it remaineth
that they also who have wives be as if they had none; and they that weep, as
them that weep not; and they that rejoice, as them that rejoice not; and they
that buy, as them that possess not; and they that use this world, as them that
use it not.'[555] All this he says to show us
that we must not set our rejoicings upon any other thing than that which tends
to the service of God, since the rest is vanity and a thing which profits not;
for joy that is not according to God can bring the soul no profit.[556]
CHAPTER
XIX
Of
the evils that may befall the soul when it sets its rejoicing upon temporal
blessings.
IF
we had to describe the evils which encompass the soul when it sets the
affections of its will upon temporal blessings, neither ink nor paper would
suffice us and our time would be too short. For from very small beginnings a
man may attain to great evils and destroy great blessings; even as from a spark
of fire, if it be not quenched, may be enkindled great fires which set the
world ablaze. All these evils have their root and origin in one important evil
of a privative kind that is contained in this joy -- namely, withdrawal from
God. For even as, in the soul that is united with Him by the affection of its
will, there are born all blessings, even so, when it withdraws itself from Him
because of this creature affection, there beset it all evils and disasters
proportionately to the joy and affection wherewith it is united with the creature;
for this is inherent in[557] withdrawal from God.
Wherefore a soul may expect the evils which assail it to be greater or less
according to the greater or lesser degree of its withdrawal from God. These
evils may be extensive or intensive; for the most part they are both together.
2. This
privative evil, whence, we say, arise other privative and positive evils, has
four degrees, each one worse than the other. And, when the soul compasses the
fourth degree, it will have compassed all the evils and depravities that arise
in this connection.[558] These four degrees are well
indicated by Moses in Deuteronomy in these words, where he says: 'The beloved
grew fat and kicked. He grew fat and became swollen and gross. He forsook God
his Maker and departed from God his Salvation.'[559]
3. This
growing fat of the soul, which was loved before it grew fat, indicates
absorption in this joy of creatures. And hence arises the first degree of this
evil, namely the going backward; which is a certain blunting of the mind with
regard to God, an obscuring of the blessings of God like the obscuring of the
air by mist, so that it cannot be clearly illumined by the light of the sun.
For, precisely when the spiritual person sets his rejoicing upon anything, and
gives rein to his desire for foolish things, he becomes blind as to God, and
the simple intelligence of his judgment becomes clouded, even as the Divine
Spirit teaches in the Book of Wisdom, saying: 'the use and association of
vanity and scorn obscureth good things, and inconstancy of desire overturneth
and perverteth the sense and judgment that are without malice.'[560] Here the Holy Spirit shows
that, although there be no malice conceived in the understanding of the soul,
concupiscence and rejoicing in creatures suffice of themselves to create in the
soul the first degree of this evil, which is the blunting of the mind and the
darkening of the judgment, by which the truth is understood and each thing
honestly judged as it is.
4.
Holiness and good judgment suffice not to save a man from falling into this
evil, if he gives way to concupiscence or rejoicing in temporal things. For
this reason God warned us by uttering these words through Moses: 'Thou shalt
take no gifts, which blind even the prudent.'[561] And this was addressed
particularly to those who were to be judges; for these have need to keep their
judgment clear and alert, which they will be unable to do if they covet and
rejoice in gifts. And for this cause likewise God commanded Moses to appoint
judges from those who abhorred avarice, so that their judgment should not be
blunted with the lust of the passions.[562] And thus he says not only
that they should not desire it, but that they should abhor it. For, if a man is
to be perfectly defended from the affection of love, he must preserve an
abhorrence of it, defending himself by means of the one thing against its
contrary. The reason why the prophet Samuel, for example, was always so upright
and enlightened a judge is that (as he said in the Book of the Kings) he had
never received a gift from any man.[563]
5. The
second degree of this privative evil arises from the first, which is indicated
in the words following the passage already quoted, namely: 'He grew fat and
became swollen and gross.'[564] And thus this second degree
is dilation of the will through the acquisition of greater liberty in temporal
things; which consists in no longer attaching so much importance to them, nor
troubling oneself about them, nor esteeming so highly the joy and pleasure that
come from created blessings. And this will have arisen in the soul from its
having in the first place given rein to rejoicing; for, through giving way to
it, the soul has become swollen with it, as is said in that passage, and that
fatness of rejoicing and desire has mused it to dilate and extend its will more
freely toward the creatures. And this brings with it great evils. For this
second degree causes the soul to withdraw itself from the things of God, and
from holy practices, and to take no pleasure in them, because it takes pleasure
in other things and devotes itself continually to many imperfections and
follies and to joys and vain pleasures.
6. And
when this second degree is consummated, it withdraws a man wholly from the practices
which he followed continually and makes his whole mind and covetousness to be
given to secular things. And those who are affected by this second degree not
only have their judgment and understanding darkened so that they cannot
recognize truth and justice, like those who are in the first degree, but they
are also very weak and lukewarm and careless in acquiring knowledge of, and in
practising, truth and justice, even as Isaias says of them in these words:
'They all love gifts and allow themselves to be carried away by rewards, and
they judge not the orphan, neither doth the cause of the widow come unto them
that they may give heed to it.'[565] This comes not to pass in
them without sin, especially when to do these things is incumbent upon them
because of their office. For those who are affected by this degree are not free
from malice as are those of the first degree. And thus they withdraw themselves
more and more from justice and virtues, since their will reaches out more and
more in affection for creatures. Wherefore, the characteristics of those who
are in this second degree are great lukewarmness in spiritual things and
failure to do their duty by them; they practise them from formality or from
compulsion or from the habit which they have formed of practising them, rather
than because they love them.
7. The
third degree of this privative evil is a complete falling away from God,
neglect to fulfil His law in order not to lose worldly things and blessings,
and relapse into mortal sin through covetousness. And this third degree is
described in the words following the passage quoted above, which says: 'He
forsook God his Maker.'[566] In this degree are included
all who have the faculties of the soul absorbed in things of the world and in
riches and commerce, in such a way that they care nothing for fulfilling the
obligations of the law of God. And they are very forgetful and dull with
respect to that which touches their salvation, and have a correspondingly
greater ardour and shrewdness with respect to things of the world. So much so
that in the Gospel Christ calls them children of this world, and says of them
that they are more prudent and acute in their affairs than are the children of
light in their own.[567] And thus they are as
nothing in God's business, whereas in the world's business they are everything.
And these are the truly avaricious, who have extended and dispersed their
desire and joy on things created, and this with such affection that they cannot
be satisfied; on the contrary, their desire and their thirst grow all the more
because they are farther withdrawn from the only source that could satisfy
them, which is God. For it is of these that God Himself speaks through
Jeremias, saying: 'They have forsaken Me, Who am the fountain of living water,
and they have digged to themselves broken cisterns that can hold no water.'[568] And this is the reason why
the covetous man finds naught among the creatures wherewith he can quench his
thirst, but only that which increases it. These persons are they that fall into
countless kinds of sin through love of temporal blessings and the evils which
afflict them are innumerable. And of these David says: Transierunt in
affectum cordis.[569]
8. The
fourth degree of this privative evil is indicated in the last words of our
passage, which says: 'And he departed from God his Salvation.'[570] To this degree come those
of the third degree whereof we have just spoken. For, through his not giving
heed to setting his heart upon the law of God because of temporal blessings,
the soul of the covetous man departs far from God according to his memory,
understanding and will, forgetting Him as though He were not his God, which
comes to pass because he has made for himself a god of money and of temporal
blessings, as Saint Paul says when he describes avarice as slavery to idols.[571] For this fourth degree
leads a man as far as to forget God, and to set his heart, which he should have
set formally upon God, formally upon money, as though he had no god beside.
9. To
this fourth degree belong those who hesitate not to subject Divine and
supernatural things to temporal things, as to their God, when they ought to do
the contrary, and subject temporal things to God, if they considered Him as
their God, as would be in accordance with reason. To these belonged the
iniquitous Balaam, who sold the grace that God had given to him.[572] And also Simon Magus, who
thought to value the grace of God in terms of money, and desired to buy it.[573] In doing this he showed a
greater esteem for money; and he thought there were those who similarly esteemed
it, and would give grace for money. There are many nowadays who in many other
ways belong to this fourth degree; their reason is darkened to spiritual things
by covetousness; they serve money and not God, and are influenced by money and
not by God, putting first the cost of a thing and not its Divine worth and
reward, and in many ways making money their principal god and end, and setting
it before the final end, which is God.
10. To
this last degree belong also those miserable souls who are so greatly in love
with their own goods that they take them for their god, so much so that they
scruple not to sacrifice their lives for them, when they see that this god of
theirs is suffering some temporal harm. They abandon themselves to despair and
take their own lives for their miserable ends, showing by their own acts how
wretched is the reward which such a god as theirs bestows. For when they can no
longer hope for aught from him he gives them despair and death; and those whom
he pursues not to this last evil of death he condemns to a dying life in the
griefs of anxiety and in many other miseries, allowing no mirth to enter their
heart, and naught that is of earth to bring them satisfaction. They continually
pay the tribute of their heart to money by their yearning for it and hoarding
of it for the final calamity of their just perdition, as the Wise Man warns
them, saying: 'Riches are kept to the hurt of their owner.'[574]
11. And
to this fourth degree belong those of whom Saint Paul says: Tradidit illos
in reprobum sensum.[575] For joy, when it strives
after possessions as its final goal, drags man down to these evils. But those
on whom it inflicts lesser evils are also to be sorely pitied, since, as we
have said, their souls are driven far backward upon the way of God. Wherefore,
as David says: Be not thou afraid when a man shall be made rich: that is, envy
him not, thinking that he outstrips thee, for, when he dieth, he shall carry nothing
away, neither shall his glory nor his joy descend with him.[576]
CHAPTER
XX
Of
the benefits that come to the soul from its withdrawal of joy from temporal
things.
THE
spiritual man, then, must look carefully to it that his heart and his rejoicing
begin not to lay hold upon temporal things; he must fear lest from being little
it should grow to be great, and should increase from one degree to another. For
little things, in time, become great; and from a small beginning there comes in
the end a great matter, even as a spark suffices to set a mountain on fire and
to burn up the whole world. And let him never be self-confident because his
attachment is small, and fail to uproot it instantly because he thinks that he
will do so later. For if, when it is so small and in its beginnings, he has not
the courage to make an end of it, how does he suppose, and presume, that he
will be able to do so when it is great and more deeply rooted. The more so since
Our Lord said in the Gospel: 'He that is unfaithful in little will be
unfaithful also in much.'[577] For he that avoids the
small sin will not fall into the great sin; but great evil is inherent in the
small sin,[578] since it has already
penetrated within the fence and wall of the heart; and as the proverb says:
Once begun, half done. Wherefore David warns us, saying: 'Though riches abound,
let us not apply our heart to them.'[579]
2.
Although a man might not do this for the sake of God and of the obligations of
Christian perfection, he should nevertheless do it because of the temporal
advantages that result from it, to say nothing of the spiritual advantages, and
he should free his heart completely from all rejoicing in the things mentioned
above. And thus, not only will he free himself from the pestilent evils which
we have described in the last chapter, but, in addition to this, he will
withdraw his joy from temporal blessings and acquire the virtue of liberality,
which is one of the principal attributes of God, and can in no wise coexist
with covetousness. Apart from this, he will acquire liberty of soul, clarity of
reason, rest, tranquillity and peaceful confidence in God and a true reverence
and worship of God which comes from the will. He will find greater joy and
recreation in the creatures through his detachment from them, for he cannot
rejoice in them if he look upon them with attachment to them as to his own.
Attachment is an anxiety that, like a bond, ties the spirit down to the earth
and allows it no enlargement of heart. He will also acquire, in his detachment
from things, a clear conception of them, so that he can well understand the
truths relating to them, both naturally and supernaturally. He will therefore
enjoy them very differently from one who is attached to them, and he will have
a great advantage and superiority over such a one. For, while he enjoys them
according to their truth, the other enjoys them according to their falseness;
the one appreciates the best side of them and the other the worst; the one
rejoices in their substance; the other, whose sense is bound to them, in their
accident. For sense cannot grasp or attain to more than the accident, but the
spirit, purged of the clouds and species of accident, penetrates the truth and
worth of things, for this is its object. Wherefore joy, like a cloud, darkens
the judgment, since there can be no voluntary joy in creatures without
voluntary attachment, even as there can be no joy which is passion when there
is no habitual attachment in the heart; and the renunciation and purgation of
such joy leave the judgment clear, even as the mists leave the air clear when
they are scattered.
3. This
man, then, rejoices in all things -- since his joy is dependent upon none of
them -- as if he had them all; and this other, through looking upon them with a
particular sense of ownership, loses in a general sense all the pleasure of
them all. This former man, having none of them in his heart, possesses them
all, as Saint Paul says, in great freedom.[580] This latter man, inasmuch
as he has something of them through the attachment of his will, neither has nor
possesses anything; it is rather they that have possessed his heart, and he is,
as it were, a sorrowing captive. Wherefore, if he desire to have a certain
degree of joy in creatures, he must of necessity have an equal degree of
disquietude and grief in his heart, since it is seized and possessed by them.
But he that is detached is untroubled by anxieties, either in prayer or apart
from it; and thus, without losing time, he readily gains great spiritual
treasure. But the other man loses everything, running to and fro upon the chain
by which his heart is attached and bound; and with all his diligence he can
still hardly free himself for a short time from this bond of thought and
rejoicing by which his heart is bound. The spiritual man, then, must restrain
the first motion of his heart towards creatures, remembering the premiss which
we have here laid down, that there is naught wherein a man must rejoice, save
in his service of God, and in his striving for His glory and honour in all
things, directing all things solely to this end and turning aside from vanity
in them, looking in them neither for his own joy nor for his consolation.
4. There
is another very great and important benefit in this detachment of the rejoicing
from creatures -- namely, that it leaves the heart free for God. This is the
dispositive foundation of all the favours which God will grant to the soul, and
without this disposition He grants them not. And they are such that, even from
the temporal standpoint, for one joy which the soul renounces for love of Him
and for the perfection of the Gospel, He will give him a hundred in this life,
as His Majesty promises in the same Gospel.[581] But, even were there not so
high a rate of interest, the spiritual man should quench these creature joys in
his soul because of the displeasure which they give to God. For we see in the
Gospel that, simply because that rich man rejoiced at having laid up for many
years, God was so greatly angered that He told him that his soul would be
brought to account on that same night.[582] Therefore, we must believe
that, whensoever we rejoice vainly, God is beholding us and preparing some
punishment and bitter draught according to our deserts, so that the pain which
results from the joy may sometimes be a hundred times greater than the joy.
For, although it is true, as Saint John says on this matter, in the Apocalypse,
concerning Babylon, that as much as she had rejoiced and lived in delights, so
much torment and sorrow should be given her,[583] yet this is not to say that
the pain will not be greater than the joy, which indeed it will be, since for
brief pleasures are given eternal torments. The words mean that there shall be
nothing without its particular punishment, for He Who will punish the idle word
will not pardon vain rejoicing.
CHAPTER
XXI
Which
describes how it is vanity to set the rejoicing of the will upon the good
things of nature, and how the soul must direct itself, by means of them, to
God.
BY
natural blessings we here understand beauty, grace, comeliness, bodily
constitution and all other bodily endowments; and likewise, in the soul, good
understanding, discretion and other things that pertain to reason. Many a man
sets his rejoicing upon all these gifts, to the end that he himself, or those
that belong to him, may possess them, and for no other reason, and gives no
thanks to God Who bestows them on him so that He may be better known and loved
by him because of them. But to rejoice for this cause alone is vanity and
deception, as Solomon says in these words: 'Deceitful is grace and vain is
beauty; the woman who fears God, she shall be praised.'[584] Here he teaches us that a
man ought rather to be fearful because of these natural gifts, since he may
easily be distracted by them from the love of God, and, if he be attracted by
them, he may fall into vanity and be deceived. For this reason bodily grace is
said to be deceptive because it deceives a man in the ways and attracts him to that
which beseems him not, through vain joy and complacency, either in himself or
in others that have such grace. And it is said that beauty is vain because it
causes a man to fall in many ways when he esteems it and rejoices in it, for he
should rejoice only if he serves God or others through it. But he ought rather
to fear and harbour misgivings lest perchance his natural graces and gifts
should be a cause of his offending God, either by his vain presumption or by
the extreme affection with which he regards them. Wherefore he that has such
gifts should be cautious and live carefully, lest, by his vain ostentation, he
give cause to any man to withdraw his heart in the smallest degree from God.
For these graces and gifts of nature are so full of provocation and occasion of
evil, both to him that possesses them and to him that looks upon them, that
there is hardly any who entirely escapes from binding and entangling his heart
in them. We have heard that many spiritual persons, who had certain of these
gifts, had such fear of this that they prayed God to disfigure them, lest they
should be a cause and occasion of any vain joy or affection to themselves or to
others, and God granted their prayer.
2. The
spiritual man, then, must purge his will, and make it to be blind to this vain
rejoicing, bearing in mind that beauty and all other natural gifts are but
earth, and that they come from the earth and will return thither; and that
grace and beauty are the smoke and vapour belonging to this same earth; and
that they must be held and esteemed as such by any man who desires not to fall
into vanity, but will direct his heart to God in these matters, with rejoicing
and gladness, because God is in Himself all these beauties and graces in the
most eminent degree, and is infinitely high above all created things. And, as
David says, they are all like a garment and shall grow old and pass away, and
He alone remains immutable for ever.[585] Wherefore, if in all these
matters a man direct not his rejoicing to God, it will ever be false and
deceptive. For of such a man is that saying of Solomon to be understood, where
he addresses joy in the creatures, saying: 'To joy I said: "Why art thou
vainly deceived?"'[586] That is, when the heart
allows itself to be attracted by the creatures.
CHAPTER
XXII
Of
the evils which come to the soul when it sets the rejoicing of its will upon
the good things of nature.
ALTHOUGH
many of these evils and benefits that I am describing in treating of these
kinds of joy are common to all, yet, because they follow directly from joy and
detachment from joy (although comprised under any one of these six divisions
which I am treating), therefore I speak under each heading of some evils and
benefits which are also found under another, since these, as I say, are
connected with that joy which belongs to them all. But my principal intent is
to speak of the particular evils and benefits which come to the soul, with
respect to each thing, through its rejoicing or not rejoicing in it. These I
call particular evils, because they are primarily and immediately caused by one
particular kind of rejoicing, and are not, save in a secondary and mediate
sense, caused by another. The evil of spiritual lukewarmness, for example, is
caused directly by any and every kind of joy, and this evil is therefore common
to all these six kinds; but fornication is a particular evil, which is the
direct result only of joy in the good things of nature of which we are
speaking.
2. The
spiritual and bodily evils, then, which directly and effectively come to the
soul when it sets its rejoicing on the good things of nature are reduced to six
principal evils. The first is vainglory, presumption, pride and disesteem of
our neighbour; for a man cannot cast eyes of esteem on one thing without taking
them from the rest. From this follows, at the least, a real disesteem for
everything else; for naturally, by setting our esteem on one thing, we withdraw
our heart from all things else and set it upon the thing esteemed; and from
this real contempt it is very easy to fall into an intentional and voluntary
contempt for all these other things, in particular or in general, not only in
the heart, but also in speech, when we say that such a thing or such a person
is not like such another. The second evil is the moving of the senses to
complacency and sensual delight and lust. The third evil comes from falling
into adulation and vain praise, wherein is deception and vanity, as Isaias says
in these words: 'My people, he that praises thee deceives thee.'[587] And the reason is that,
although we sometimes speak the truth when we praise grace and beauty, yet it
will be a marvel if there is not some evil enwrapped therein or if the person
praised is not plunged into vain complacency and rejoicing, or his imperfect
intentions and affections are not directed thereto. The fourth evil is of a
general kind: it is a serious[588] blunting of the reason and
the spiritual sense, such as is effected by rejoicing in temporal good things.
In one way, indeed, it is much worse. For as the good things of nature are more
closely connected with man than are temporal good things, the joy which they
give leaves an impression and effect and trace upon the senses more readily and
more effectively, and deadens them more completely. And thus reason and
judgment are not free, but are clouded with that affection of joy which is very
closely connected with them; and from this arises the fifth evil, which is
distraction of the mind by created things. And hence arise and follow
lukewarmness and weakness of spirit, which is the sixth evil, and is likewise
of a general kind; this is apt to reach such a pitch that a man may find the
things of God very tedious and troublesome, and at last even come to abhor
them. In this rejoicing purity of spirit is invariably lost -- at least, in its
essence. For, if any spirituality is discerned, it will be of such a gross and
sensual kind as to be hardly spiritual or interior or recollected at all, since
it will consist rather in pleasure of sense than in strength of spirit. Since,
then, the spirituality of the soul is of so low and weak a character at that
time as not to quench the habit of this rejoicing (for this habit alone
suffices to destroy pure spirituality, even when the soul is not consenting to
the acts of rejoicing), the soul must be living, so to say, in the weakness of
sense rather than in the strength of the spirit. Otherwise, it will be seen in
the perfection and fortitude which the soul will have when the occasion demands
it. Although I do not deny that many virtues may exist together with serious
imperfections, no pure or delectable inward spirituality can exist while these
joys are not quenched; for the flesh reigns within, warring against the spirit,
and, although the spirit may be unconscious of the evil, yet at the least it
causes it secret distraction.
3.
Returning now to speak of that second evil, which contains within itself
innumerable other evils, it is impossible to describe with the pen or to
express in words the lengths to which it can go, but this is not unknown or
secret, nor is the extent of the misery that arises from the setting of our
rejoicing on natural beauty and graces. For every day we hear of its causing
numerous deaths, the loss by many of their honour, the commission of many
insults, the dissipation of much wealth, numerous cases of emulation and
strife, of adultery, rape and fornication, and of the fall of many holy men,
comparable in number to that third part of the stars of Heaven which was swept
down by the tail of the serpent on earth.[589] The fine gold has lost its
brilliance and lustre and is become mire; and the notable and noble men of
Sion, who were clothed in finest gold, are counted as earthen pitchers that are
broken and have become potsherds.[590] How far does the poison of
this evil not penetrate?
4. And
who drinks not, either little or much, from this golden chalice of the
Babylonian woman of the Apocalypse?[591] She seats herself on that
great beast, that had seven heads and ten crowns, signifying that there is
scarce any man, whether high or low, saint or sinner, who comes not to drink of
her wine, to some extent enslaving his heart thereby, for, as is said of her in
that place, all the kings of the earth have become drunken with the wine of her
prostitution. And she seizes upon all estates of men, even upon the highest and
noblest estate -- the service of the sanctuary and the Divine priesthood --
setting her abominable cup, as Daniel says, in the holy place,[592] and leaving scarcely a
single strong man without making him to drink, either little or much, from the
wine of this chalice, which is vain rejoicing. For this reason it is said that
all the kings of the earth have become drunken with this wine, for very few
will be found, however holy they may have been, that have not been to some extent
stupefied and bewildered by this draught of the joy and pleasure of natural
graces and beauty.
5. This
phrase 'have become drunken' should be noted. For, however little a man may
drink of the wine of this rejoicing, it at once takes hold upon the heart, and
stupefies it and works the evil of darkening the reason, as does wine to those
who have been corrupted by it. So that, if some antidote be not at once taken
against this poison, whereby it may be quickly expelled, the life of the soul
is endangered. Its spiritual weakness will increase, bringing it to such a pass
that it will be like Samson, when his eyes were put out and the hair of his
first strength was cut off, and like Samson it will see itself grinding in the
mills, a captive among its enemies;[593] and afterwards,
peradventure, it will die the second death among its enemies, even as did he,
since the drinking of this rejoicing will produce in them spiritually all those
evils that were produced in him physically, and does in fact produce them in
many persons to this day. Let his enemies come and say to him afterwards, to
his great confusion: Art thou he that broke the knotted cords, that tore
asunder the lions, slew the thousand Philistines, broke down the gates and
freed himself from all his enemies?
6. Let
us conclude, then, by giving the instruction necessary to counteract this
poison. And let it be this: As soon as thy heart feels moved by this vain joy
in the good things of nature, let it remember how vain a thing it is to rejoice
in aught save the service of God, how perilous and how pernicious. Let it
consider how great an evil it was for the angels to rejoice and take pleasure
in their natural endowments and beauty, since it was this that plunged them
into the depths of shame.[594] Let them think, too, how
many evils come to men daily through this same vanity, and let them therefore
resolve in good time to employ the remedy which the poet commends to those who
begin to grow affectioned to such things. 'Make haste now,' he says, 'and use
the remedy at the beginning; for when evil things have had time to grow in the
heart, remedy and medicine come late.' Look not upon the wine, as the Wise Man
says, when its colour is red and when it shines in the glass; it enters
pleasantly and bites like a viper and sheds abroad poison like a basilisk.[595]
CHAPTER
XXIII
Of
the benefits which the soul receives from not setting its rejoicing upon the
good things of nature.
MANY
are the benefits which come to the soul through the withdrawal of its heart
from this rejoicing; for, besides preparing itself for the love of God and the
other virtues, it makes a direct way for its own humility, and for a general
charity toward its neighbours. For, as it is not led by the apparent good
things of nature, which are deceitful, into affection for anyone, the soul
remains free and able[596] to love them all rationally
and spiritually, as God wills them to be loved. Here it must be understood that
none deserves to be loved, save for the virtue that is in him. And, when we
love in this way, it is very pleasing to the will of God, and also brings great
freedom; and if there be attachment in it, there is greater attachment to God.
For, in that case, the more this love grows, the more grows our love toward
God; and, the more grows our love toward God, the greater becomes our love for
our neighbour. For, when love is grounded in God, the reason for all love is
one and the same and the cause of all love is one and the same also.
2.
Another excellent benefit comes to the soul from its renunciation of this kind
of rejoicing, which is that it fulfils and keeps the counsel of Our Saviour
which He gives us through Saint Matthew. 'Let him that will follow Me', He
says, 'deny himself.'[597] This the soul could in no
wise do if it were to set its rejoicing upon the good things of nature; for he
that makes any account of himself neither denies himself nor follows Christ.
3. There
is another great benefit in the renunciation of this kind of rejoicing, which
is that it produces great tranquillity in the soul, empties it of distractions
and brings recollection to the senses, especially to the eyes. For the soul
that desires not to rejoice in these things desires neither to look at them nor
to attach the other senses to them, lest it should be attracted or entangled by
them. Nor will it spend time or thought upon them, being like the prudent
serpent, which stops its ears that it may not hear the charmers lest they make
some impression upon it.[598] For, by guarding its doors,
which are the senses, the soul guards itself safely and increases its
tranquillity and purity.
4. There
is another benefit of no less importance to those that have become proficient
in the mortification of this kind of rejoicing, which is that evil things and
the knowledge of them neither make an impression upon them nor stain them as
they do those to whom they still give any delight. Wherefore the renunciation
and mortification of this rejoicing result in spiritual cleanness of soul and
body; that is, of spirit and sense; and the soul comes to have an angelical
conformity with God, and becomes, both in spirit and in body, a worthy temple
of the Holy Spirit. This cannot come to pass if the heart rejoices in natural
graces and good things. For this reason it is not necessary to have given
consent to any evil thing, or to have remembrance of such; for that rejoicing
suffices to stain the soul and the senses with impurity by means of the
knowledge of evil; for, as the Wise Man says, the Holy Spirit will remove
Himself from thoughts that are without understanding -- that is, without the
higher reason that has respect to God.[599]
5.
Another benefit of a general kind follows, which is that, besides freeing
ourselves from the evils and dangers aforementioned, we are delivered also from
countless vanities, and from many other evils, both spiritual and temporal; and
especially from falling into the small esteem in which are held all those that
are seen to glory or rejoice in the said natural gifts, whether in their own or
in those of others. And thus these souls are held and esteemed as wise and
prudent, as indeed are all those who take no account of these things, but only
of that which pleases God.
6. From
these said benefits follows the last, which is a generosity of the soul, as
necessary to the service of God as is liberty of spirit, whereby temptations
are easily vanquished and trials faithfully endured, and whereby, too, the
virtues grow and become prosperous.
CHAPTER
XXIV
Which
treats of the third kind of good thing whereon the will may set the affection
of rejoicing, which kind pertains to sense. Indicates what these good things
are and of how many kinds, and how the will has to be directed to God and
purged of this rejoicing.
WE
have next to treat of rejoicing with respect to the good things of sense, which
is the third kind of good thing wherein we said that the will may rejoice. And
it is to be noted that by the good things of sense we here understand
everything in this life that can be apprehended by the senses of sight,
hearing, smell, taste or touch, and by the interior fashioning of imaginary reflections,
all of which things belong to the bodily senses, interior and exterior.
2. And,
in order to darken the will and purge it of rejoicing with respect to these
sensible objects, and direct it to God by means of them, it is necessary to
assume one truth, which is that, as we have frequently said, the sense of the
lower part of man which is that whereof we are treating, is not, neither can
be, capable of knowing or understanding God as God is. So that the eye cannot
see Him, or aught that is like Him; neither can the ear hear His voice, or any
sound that resembles it; neither can the sense of smell perceive a perfume so
sweet as He; neither can the taste detect a savour so sublime and delectable;
neither can the touch feel a movement so delicate and full of delight, nor
aught like to it; neither can His form or any figure that represents Him enter
into the thought or imagination. Even as says Isaias: 'Eye hath not seen Him,
nor hath ear heard Him, neither hath it entered into the heart of man.'[600]
3. And
here it must be noted that the senses may receive pleasure and delight, either
from the spirit, by means of some communication that it receives from God
interiorly, or from outward things communicated to them. And, as has been said,
neither by way of the spirit nor by that of sense can the sensual part of the
soul know God. For, since it has no capacity for attaining to such a point, it
receives in the senses both that which is of the spirit and that which is of sense,
and receives them in no other way. Wherefore it would be at the least but
vanity to set the rejoicing of the will upon pleasure caused by any of these
apprehensions, and it would be hindering the power of the will from occupying
itself with God and from setting its rejoicing upon Him alone. This the soul
cannot perfectly accomplish, save by purging itself and remaining in darkness
as to rejoicing of this kind, as also with respect to other things.
4. I
said advisedly that if the rejoicing of the will were to rest in any of these
things it would be vanity. But, when it does not rest upon them, but, as soon
as the will finds pleasure in that which it hears, sees and does, soars upward
to rejoice in God -- so that its pleasure acts as a motive and strengthens it
to that end -- this is very good. In such a case not only need the said motions
not be shunned when they cause this devotion and prayer, but the soul may
profit by them, and indeed should so profit, to the end that it may accomplish
this holy exercise. For there are souls who are greatly moved by objects of
sense to seek God. But much circumspection must be observed herein and the
resulting effects must be considered; for oftentimes many spiritual persons
indulge in the recreations of sense aforementioned under the pretext of
offering prayer and devotion to God; and they do this in a way which must be
described as recreation rather than prayer, and which gives more pleasure to
themselves than to God. And, although the intention that they have is toward
God, the effect which they produce is that of recreation of sense, wherein they
find weakness and imperfection, rather than revival of the will and surrender
thereof to God.
5. I
wish, therefore, to propose a test whereby it may be seen when these delights
of the senses aforementioned are profitable and when they are not. And it is
that, whensoever a person hears music and other things, and sees pleasant
things, and is conscious of sweet perfumes, or tastes things that are
delicious, or feels soft touches, if his thought and the affection of his will
are at once centred upon God and if that thought of God gives him more pleasure
than the movement of sense which causes it, and save for that he finds no
pleasure in the said movement, this is a sign that he is receiving benefit
therefrom, and that this thing of sense is a help to his spirit. In this way
such things may be used, for then such things of sense subserve the end for
which God created and gave them, which is that He should be the better loved and
known because of them. And it must be known, furthermore, that one upon whom
these things of sense cause the pure spiritual effect which I describe has no
desire for them, and makes hardly any account of them, though they cause him
great pleasure when they are offered to him, because of the pleasure which, as
I have said, they cause him in God. He is not, however, solicitous for them,
and when they are offered to him, as I say, his will passes from them at once
and he abandons it to God and sets it upon Him.
6. The
reason why he cares little for these motives, although they help him on his
journey to God, is that the spirit which is ready to go by every means and in
every way to God is so completely nourished and prepared and satisfied by the
spirit of God that it lacks nothing and desires nothing; or, if it desires
anything to that end, the desire at once passes and is forgotten, and the soul
makes no account of it. But one that feels not this liberty of spirit in these
things and pleasures of sense, but whose will rests in these pleasures and
feeds upon them, is greatly harmed by them and should withdraw himself from the
use of them. For, although his reason may desire to employ them to journey to
God, yet, inasmuch as his desire finds pleasure in them which is according to
sense, and their effect is ever dependent upon the pleasure which they give, he
is certain to find hindrance in them rather than help, and harm rather than
profit. And, when he sees that the desire for such recreation reigns in him, he
must mortify it; for, the stronger it becomes, the more imperfection he will
have and the greater will be his weakness.
7. So
whatever pleasure coming from sense presents itself to the spiritual person,
and whether it come to him by chance or by design, he must make use of it only
for God, lifting up to Him the rejoicing of his soul so that his rejoicing may
be useful and profitable and perfect; realizing that all rejoicing which
implies not renunciation[601] and annihilation of every
other kind of rejoicing, although it be with respect to something apparently
very lofty, is vain and profits not, but is a hindrance towards the union of
the will in God.
CHAPTER
XXV
Which
treats of the evils that afflict the soul when it desires to set the rejoicing
of its will upon the good things of sense.
IN
the first place, if the soul does not darken and quench the joy which may arise
within it from the things of sense, and direct its rejoicing to God, all the
general kinds of evil which we have described as arising from every other kind
of rejoicing follow from this joy in the things of sense: such evils are
darkness in the reason, lukewarmness, spiritual weariness, etc. But, to come to
details, many are the evils, spiritual, bodily and sensual, into which the soul
may fall through this rejoicing.
2. First
of all, from joy in visible things, when the soul denies not itself therein in
order to reach God, there may come to it, directly, vanity of spirit and
distraction of the mind, unruly covetousness, immodesty, outward and inward
unseemliness, impurity of thought, and envy.
3. From
joy in hearing useless things there may directly arise distraction of the
imagination, gossiping, envy, rash judgements and vacillating thoughts; and
from these arise many other and pernicious evils.
4. From
joy in sweet perfumes, there arise loathing of the poor, which is contrary to
the teaching of Christ, dislike of serving others, unruliness of heart in
humble things, and spiritual insensibility, at least to a degree proportionate
with its desire for this joy.
5. From
joy in the savour of meat and drink, there arise directly such gluttony and
drunkenness, wrath, discord and want of charity with one's neighbours and with
the poor, as had that Epulon, who fared sumptuously every day, with Lazarus.[602] Hence arise bodily
disorders, infirmities and evil motions, because the incentives to luxury
become greater. Directly, too, there arises great spiritual torpor, and the
desire for spiritual things is corrupted, so that the soul can derive no
enjoyment or satisfaction from them nor can even speak of them. From this joy
is likewise born distraction of the other senses and of the heart, and
discontent with respect to many things.
6. From
joy in the touch of soft things arise many more evils and more pernicious ones,
which more quickly cause sense to overflow into spirit, and quench all
spiritual strength and vigour. Hence arises the abominable vice of effeminacy,
or the incentives thereto, according to the proportion of joy of this kind
which is experienced. Hence luxury increases, the mind becomes effeminate and
timid, and the senses grow soft and delicate and are predisposed to sin and
evil. Vain gladness and joy are infused into the heart; the tongue takes to
itself licence and the eyes roam unrestrainedly; and the remaining senses are
blunted and deadened, according to the measure[603] of this desire. The judgment
is put to confusion, being nourished by spiritual folly and insipidity; moral
cowardice and inconstancy increase; and, by the darkness of the soul and the
weakness of the heart, fear is begotten even where no fear is. At times, again,
this joy begets a spirit of confusion, and insensibility with respect to
conscience and spirit; wherefore the reason is greatly enfeebled, and is
affected in such a way that it can neither take nor give good counsel, and
remains incapable of moral and spiritual blessings and becomes as useless as a
broken vessel.
7. All
these evils are caused by this kind of rejoicing -- in some more intensely,
according to the intensity of their rejoicing, and also according to the
complacency or weakness or variableness of the person who yields to it. For
there are natures that will receive more detriment from a slight occasion of
sin than will others from a great one.
8.
Finally, from joy of this kind in touch, a person may fall into as many evils
and perils as those which we have described as concerning the good things of
nature; and, since these have already been described, I do not detail them
here; neither do I describe many other evils wrought thus, such as a
falling-off in spiritual exercises and bodily penance and lukewarmness and lack
of devotion in the use of the sacraments of penance and of the Eucharist.
CHAPTER
XXVI
Of
the benefits that come to the soul from self-denial in rejoicing as to things
of sense, which benefits are spiritual and temporal.
MARVELLOUS
are the benefits that the soul derives from self-denial in this rejoicing: some
of these are spiritual and some temporal.
2. The
first is that the soul, by restraining its rejoicing as to things of sense, is
restored from the distraction into which it has fallen through excessive use of
the senses, and is recollected in God. The spirituality and the virtues that it
has acquired are preserved; nay, they are increased and increase continually.[604]
3. The
second spiritual benefit which comes from self-denial in rejoicing as to things
of sense is exceeding great. We may say with truth that that which was sensual
becomes spiritual, and that which was animal becomes rational; and even that
the soul is journeying from a human life to a portion which is angelical; and
that, instead of being temporal and human, it becomes celestial and divine.
For, even as a man who seeks the pleasure of things of sense and sets his
rejoicing upon them neither merits nor deserves any other name than those which
we have given him -- that is, sensual, animal, temporal, etc. -- even so, when
he exalts his rejoicing above these things of sense, he merits all those other
names -- to wit, spiritual, celestial, etc.
4. And
it is clear that this is true; for, although the use of the senses and the
power of sensuality are contrary, as the Apostle says, to the power and the
exercises of spirituality,[605] it follows that, when the
one kind of power is diminished and brought to an end, the other contrary
kinds, the growth of which was hindered by the first kinds, are increased. And
thus, when the spirit is perfected (which is the higher part of the soul and
the part that has relations with God and receives His communications), it
merits all these attributes aforementioned, since it is perfected in the
heavenly and spiritual gifts and blessings of God. Both these things are proved
by Saint Paul, who calls the sensual man (namely, the man that directs the
exercise of his will solely to sense) the animal man, who perceives not the
things of God. But this other man, who lifts up his will to God, he calls the
spiritual man, saying that this man penetrates and judges all things, even the
deep things of God.[606] Therefore the soul gains
herein the marvellous benefit of a disposition well able to receive the
blessings and spiritual gifts of God.
5. The
third benefit is that the pleasures and the rejoicing of the will in temporal
matters are very greatly increased; for, as the Saviour says, they shall
receive an hundredfold in this life.[607] So that, if thou deniest
thyself one joy, the Lord will give thee an hundredfold in this life, both
spiritually and temporally; and likewise, for one joy that thou hast in these
things of sense, thou shalt have an hundredfold of affliction and misery. For,
through the eye that is purged from the joys of sight, there comes to the soul
a spiritual joy, directed to God in all things that are seen, whether Divine or
profane. Through the ear that is purged from the joy of hearing, there comes to
the soul joy most spiritual an hundredfold, directed to God in all that it
hears, whether Divine or profane. Even so is it with the other senses when they
are purged. For, even as in the state of innocence all that our first parents
saw and said and ate in Paradise furnished them with greater sweetness of
contemplation, so that the sensual part of their nature might be duly subjected
to, and ordered by, reason; even so the man whose senses are purged from all things
of sense and made subject to the spirit receives, in their very first motion,
the delight of delectable knowledge and contemplation of God.
6.
Wherefore, to him that is pure, all things, whether high or low, are an
occasion of greater good and further purity; even as the man that is impure is
apt to derive evil from things both high and low, because of his impurity. But
he that conquers not the joy of desire will not enjoy the serenity of habitual
rejoicing in God through His creatures and works. In the man that lives no more
according to sense, all the operations of the senses and faculties are directed
to Divine contemplation. For, as it is true in good philosophy that each thing
operates according to its being, and to the life that it lives, so it is clear,
beyond contradiction, that, if the soul lives a spiritual life, the animal life
being mortified, it must be journeying straight to God, since all its spiritual
actions and motions pertain to the life of the spirit. Hence it follows that
such a man, being pure in heart, finds in all things a knowledge of God which
is joyful and pleasant, chaste, pure, spiritual, glad and loving.
7. From
what has been said I deduce the following doctrine -- namely that, until a man
has succeeded in so habituating his senses to the purgation of the joys of
sense that from their first motion he is gaining the benefit aforementioned of
directing all his powers to God, he must needs deny himself joy and pleasure
with respect to these powers, so that he may withdraw his soul from the life of
sense. He must fear that since he is not yet spiritual, he may perchance derive
from the practice of these things a pleasure and an energy which is of sense
rather than of spirit; that the energy which is of sense may predominate in all
his actions; and that this may lead to an increase of sensuality and may
sustain and nurture it. For, as Our Saviour says, that which is born of the
flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the spirit is spirit.[608] Let this be closely considered,
for it is the truth. And let not him that has not yet mortified his pleasure in
things of sense dare to make great use of the power and operation of sense with
respect to them, thinking that they will help him to become more spiritual; for
the powers of the soul will increase the more without the intervention of these
things of sense -- that is, if it quench the joy and desire for them rather
than indulge its pleasure in them.
8. There
is no need to speak of the blessings of glory that, in the life to come, result
from the renunciation of these joys. For, apart from the fact that the bodily
gifts of the life of glory, such as agility and clarity, will be much more
excellent than in those souls who have not denied themselves, there will be an
increase in the essential glory of the soul corresponding to its love of God,
for Whose sake it has renounced the things of sense aforementioned. For every
momentary, fleeting joy that has been renounced, as Saint Paul says, there
shall be laid up an exceeding weight of glory eternally.[609] And I will not here recount
the other benefits, whether moral, temporal or spiritual, which result from
this night of rejoicing; for they all are those that have already been
described, and to a more eminent degree; since these joys that are renounced
are more closely linked to the natural man, and therefore he that renounces
them acquires thereby a more intimate purity.
CHAPTER
XXVII
Which
begins to treat of the fourth kind of good -- namely, the moral. Describes
wherein this consists, and in what manner joy of the will therein is lawful.
THE
fourth kind of good wherein the will may rejoice is moral. By this we here
understand the virtues, and the habits of the virtues, in so far as these are
moral, and the practice of any virtue, and the practice of works of mercy, the
keeping of the law of God, and of that of the commonweal,[610] and the putting into
practice of all good intentions and inclinations.
2. These
kinds of moral good, when they are possessed and practised, deserve perhaps
more than any of the other kinds aforementioned that the will should rejoice in
them. For a man may rejoice in his own affairs for one of two reasons, or for
both reasons together -- namely, for that which they are in themselves, or for
the good which they imply and bring with them as a means and instrument. We
shall find that the possession of the three kinds of good already mentioned
merits no rejoicing of the will. For of themselves, as has been said, they do
no good to man, nor in themselves have they any good, since they are so
fleeting and frail; rather, as we have likewise said, they cause and bring him
trouble and grief and affliction of spirit. Now, although they might merit that
man should rejoice in them for the second reason -- which is that he may profit
by them for journeying to God -- this is so uncertain that, as we commonly see,
they more often harm man than bring him profit. But good things of a moral kind
merit a certain degree of rejoicing in him that possesses them, and this for
the first reason -- namely, for their intrinsic nature and worth. For they
bring with them peace and tranquillity, and a right and ordered use of the
reason and actions that are consistent therewith, so that a man cannot, humanly
speaking, have anything better in this life.
3. Thus,
since these virtues deserve to be loved and esteemed, humanly speaking, for
their own sakes, a man may well rejoice in the possession of them, and may
practise them for that which they are in themselves, and for the blessing which
they bring to man in human and temporal form. In this way and for this reason
philosophers and wise men and princes of old esteemed and praised them, and endeavoured
to possess and practise them; and, although they were heathen, and regarded
them only in a temporal manner, merely considering the blessings which they
knew would result from them -- temporal, corporeal and natural -- they not only
obtained by means of them the temporal renown and benefits which they sought,
but, apart from this, God, Who loves all that is good (even in barbarians and
heathen) and, as the Wise Man says, hinders the doing of naught that is good,[611] gave them longer life,
greater honour, dominion and peace (as He did for example to the Romans),
because they made just laws; for He subjected nearly the whole world to them,
and gave rewards of a temporal kind for their good customs to those who because
of their unbelief were incapable of eternal reward. For God loves moral good so
much that, merely because Solomon asked wisdom of Him that he might teach his
people, govern them justly and bring them up in good customs, God Himself was
greatly pleased with him, and told him that, because he had asked for wisdom to
that end, this should be given him, and there should also be given him that
which he had not asked, namely, riches and honour, so that no king, either in
the past or in the future, should be like him.[612]
4. But,
although the Christian should rejoice in this first way in the moral good that
he possesses and in the good works of a temporal kind which he does, since they
lead to the temporal blessings which we have described, he must not allow his
joy to stop at this first stage (as we have said the heathen did, because their
spiritual sight extended not beyond the things of this mortal life); but, since
he has the light of faith, wherein he hopes for eternal life, without which
nothing that belongs to this life and the next will be of any value to him, he
must rejoice principally and solely in the possession and employment of this
moral good after the second manner -- namely, in that by doing these works for
the love of God he will gain eternal life. And thus he should set his eyes and
his rejoicing solely on serving and honouring God with his good customs and
virtues. For without this intention the virtues are of no worth in the sight of
God, as is seen in the ten virgins of the Gospel, who had all kept their
virginity and done good works; and yet, because the joy of five of them was not
of the second kind (that is, because they had not directed their joy to God),
but was rather after the first and vain kind, for they rejoiced in the possession
of their good works, they were cast out from Heaven with no acknowledgement or
reward from the Bridegroom. And likewise many persons of old had many virtues
and practised good works, and many Christians have them nowadays and accomplish
great acts, which will profit them nothing for eternal life, because they have
not sought in them the glory and honour which belong to God alone. The
Christian, then, must rejoice, not in the performing of good works and the
following of good customs, but in doing them for the love of God alone, without
respect too aught else soever. For, inasmuch as good works that are done to
serve God alone will have the greater reward in glory, the greater will be the
confusion in the presence of God of those who have done them for other reasons.
5. The
Christian, then, if he will direct his rejoicing to God with regard to moral
good, must realize that the value of his good works, fasts, alms, penances,
etc., is based, not upon the number or the quality of them, but upon the love of
God which inspires him to do them; and that they are the more excellent when
they are performed with a purer and sincerer love of God, and when there is
less in them of self-interest, joy, pleasure, consolation and praise, whether
with reference to this world or to the next. Wherefore the heart must not be
set upon pleasure, consolation and delight, and the other interests which good
works and practices commonly bring with them, but it must concentrate its
rejoicing upon God. It must desire to serve Him in its good works, and purge
itself from this other rejoicing, remaining in darkness with respect to it and
desiring that God alone shall have joy in its good works and shall take secret
pleasure therein, without any other intention and delight than those relating
to the honour and glory of God. And thus, with respect to this moral good, the
soul will concentrate all the strength of its will upon God.
CHAPTER
XXVIII
Of
seven evils into which a man may fall if he set the rejoicing of his will upon
moral good.
THE
principal evils into which a man may fall through vain rejoicing in his good
works and habits I find to be seven; and they are very hurtful because they are
spiritual.
2. The
first evil is vanity, pride, vainglory and presumption; for a man cannot
rejoice in his works without esteeming them. And hence arise boasting and like
things, as is said of the Pharisee in the Gospel, who prayed and congratulated
himself before God,[613] boasting that he fasted and
did other good works.
3. The
second evil is usually linked with this: it is our judging others, by
comparison with ourselves, as wicked and imperfect, when it seems to us that
their acts and good works are inferior to our own; we esteem them the less
highly in our hearts, and at times also in our speech. This evil was likewise
that of the Pharisee, for in his prayer he said: 'I thank Thee that I am not as
other men are: robbers, unjust and adulterers.'[614] So that by one single act
he fell into these two evils, esteeming himself and despising others, as do
many nowadays, saying: I am not like such a man, nor do I do this and that, as
does such or such a man. And many of these are even worse than the Pharisee.
He, it is true, not only despised others, but also pointed to an individual,
saying: 'Nor am I like this publican.' But they, not satisfied with either of
these things, go so far as to be angry and envious when they see that others
are praised, or do more, or are of greater use, than themselves.
4. The
third evil is that, as they look for pleasure in their good works, they usually
perform them only when they see that some pleasure and praise will result from
them. And thus, as Christ says, they do everything ut videantur ab hominibus,[615] and work not for the love
of God alone.
5. The
fourth evil follows from this. It is that they will have no reward from God,
since they have desired in this life to have joy or consolation or honour or
some other kind of interest as a result of their good works: of such the
Saviour says that herein they have received their reward.[616] And thus they have had
naught but the labour of their work and are confounded, and receive no reward.
There is so much misery among the sons of men which has to do with this evil
that I myself believe that the greater number of good works which they perform
in public are either vicious or will be of no value to them, or are imperfect
in the sight of God, because they are not detached from these human intentions
and interests. For what other judgment can be formed of some of the actions
which certain men perform, and of the memorials which they set up, when they
will not perform these actions at all unless they are surrounded by human
respect and honour, which are the vanity of life, or unless they can perpetuate
in these memorials their name, lineage or authority, even setting up their
emblems and escutcheons in the very churches, as if they wished to set
themselves, in the stead of images, in places where all bend the knee? In these
good works which some men perform, may it not be said that they are worshipping[617] themselves more than God?
This is certainly true if they perform them for the reason described and
otherwise would not perform them at all. But leaving aside these, which are the
worst cases, how many are there who fall into these evils in their good works
in many ways? Some wish to be praised, others to be thanked, others enumerate
their good works and desire that this person and that shall know of them, and
indeed the whole world; and sometimes they wish an intermediary to present
their alms, or to perform other of their charitable deeds,[618] so that more may be known
of them; and some desire all these things. This is the sounding of the trumpet,
which, says the Saviour in the Gospel, vain men do, for which reason they shall
have no reward for their works from God.[619]
6. In
order to flee from this evil, such persons must hide their good works so that
God alone may see them, and must not desire anyone to take notice of them. And
they must hide them, not only from others, but even from themselves. That is to
say, they must find no satisfaction in them, nor esteem them as if they were of
some worth, nor derive pleasure from them at all. It is this that is
spiritually indicated in those words of Our Lord: 'Let not thy left hand know
what they right hand doeth.[620] Which is as much to say:
Esteem not with thy carnal and temporal eye the work that thou doest
spiritually. And in this way the strength of the will is concentrated upon God,
and a good deed bears fruit in His sight; so that not only will it not be lost,
but it will be of great merit. And in this sense must be understood that passage
from Job: 'If I have kissed my hand with my mouth, which is a great sin and
iniquity, and my heart hath rejoiced in secret.'[621] Here by the hand is
understood good works, and by the mouth is understood the will which finds
satisfaction in them. And since this is, as we say, finding satisfaction in
oneself, he says: If my heart hath rejoiced in secret, which is a great
iniquity against God and a denial of Him. And this is as though he were to say
that he had no satisfaction, neither did his heart rejoice in secret.
7. The
fifth of these evils is that such persons make no progress on the road of
perfection. For, since they are attached to the pleasure and consolation which
they find in their good works, it follows that, when they find no such pleasure
and consolation in their good works and exercises, which ordinarily happens
when God desires to lead them on, by giving them the dry bread of the perfect
and taking from them the milk of babes, in order to prove their strength and to
purge their delicate appetites so that they may be able to enjoy the food of
grown men, they commonly faint and cease to persevere, because their good works
give them no pleasure. In this way may be spiritually understood these words of
the Wise Man: 'Dying flies spoil the sweetness of ointment.'[622] For, when any mortification
comes to these persons, they die to their good works and cease to practise
them; and thus they lose their perseverance, wherein are found sweetness of
spirit and interior consolation.
8. The
sixth of these evils is that such persons commonly deceive themselves, thinking
that the things and good works which give them pleasure must be better than
those that give them none. They praise and esteem the one kind and depreciate
the other; yet as a rule those works whereby a man is most greatly mortified
(especially when he is not proficient in perfection) are more acceptable and
precious in the sight of God, by reason of the self-denial which a man must
observe in performing them, than are those wherein he finds consolation and
which may very easily be an occasion of self-seeking. And in this connection
Micheas says of them: Malum manuum suarum dicunt bonum.[623] That is: That which is bad
in their works they call good. This comes to them because of the pleasure which
they take in their good works, instead of thinking only of giving pleasure to
God. The extent to which this evil predominates, whether in spiritual men or in
ordinary persons, would take too long to describe, for hardly anyone can be
found who is moved to do such works simply for God's sake, without the
attraction of some advantage of consolation or pleasure, or some other
consideration.
9. The
seventh evil is that, in so far as a man stifles not vain rejoicing in moral
works, he is to that extent incapable of receiving reasonable counsel and
instruction with regard to good works that he should perform. For he is
lettered by the habit of weakness that he has acquired through performing good
works with attachment to vain rejoicing; so that he cannot consider the counsel
of others as best, or, even if he considers it to be so, he cannot follow it,
through not having the necessary strength of mind. Such persons as this are
greatly weakened in charity toward God and their neighbour; for the self-love
with respect to their good works in which they indulge causes their charity to
grow cold.
CHAPTER
XXIX
Of
the benefits which come to the soul through the withdrawal of its rejoicing
from moral good.
VERY
great are the benefits which come to the soul when it desires not to set the
vain rejoicing of its will on this kind of good. For, in the first place, it is
freed from falling into many temptations and deceits of the devil, which are
involved in rejoicing in these good works, as we may understand by that which
is said in Job, namely: 'He sleepeth under the shadow, in the covert of the
reed and in moist places.'[624] This he applies to the
devil, who deceives the soul in the moisture of rejoicing and in the vanity of
the reed -- that is, in vain works. And it is no wonder if the soul is secretly
deceived by the devil in this rejoicing; for, apart altogether from his
suggestions, vain rejoicing is itself deception. This is especially true when
there is any boasting of heart concerning these good works, as Jeremias well
says in these words: Arrogantia tua decepit te.[625] For what greater deception
is there than boasting? And from this the soul that purges itself from this
rejoicing is freed.
2. The
second benefit is that the soul performs its good works with greater
deliberation and perfection than it can if there be in them the passion of joy
and pleasure. For, because of this passion of joy, the passions of wrath and
concupiscence are so strong that they will not submit to reason,[626] but ordinarily cause a man
to be inconsistent in his actions and purposes, so that he abandons some and
takes up others, and begins a thing only to abandon it without completing any
part of it. For, since he acts under the influence of pleasure, and since
pleasure is variable, being much stronger in some natures than in others, it
follows that, when this pleasure ceases, both the action and its purpose cease,
important though they may be. To such persons the joy which they have in their
work is the soul and the strength thereof; and, when the joy is quenched, the
work ceases and perishes, and they persevere therein no longer. It is of such
persons that Christ says: 'They receive the word with joy, and then the devil
taketh it away from them, lest they should persevere.'[627] And this is because they
have no strength and no roots save in the joy aforementioned. To take and to
withdraw their will, therefore, from this rejoicing is the cause of their
perseverance and success. This benefit, then, is a great one, even as the
contrary evil is great likewise. The wise man sets his eyes upon the substance
and benefit of his work, not upon the pleasure and delight which it gives him;
and so he is not beating the air, but derives from his work a stable joy,
without any meed of bitterness.
3. The
third benefit is divine. It is that, when vain joy in these good works is
quenched, the soul becomes poor in spirit, which is one of the blessings spoken
of by the Son of God when He says: 'Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs
is the Kingdom of Heaven.'[628]
4. The
fourth benefit is that he that denies himself this joy will be meek, humble and
prudent in his actions. For he will not act impetuously and rapidly, through
being impelled by the wrath and concupiscence which belong to joy; neither
presumptuously, through being affected by the esteem of his own work which he
cherishes because of the joy that he has in it; neither incautiously, through
being blinded by joy.
5. The
fifth benefit is that he becomes pleasing to God and man, and is freed from
spiritual sloth, gluttony and avarice, and from spiritual envy and from a
thousand other vices.
CHAPTER
XXX
Which
begins to treat of the fifth kind of good wherein the will may rejoice, which
is the supernatural. Describes the nature of these supernatural good things,
and how they are distinguished from the spiritual, and how joy in them is to be
directed to God.
IT
now behoves us to treat of the fifth kind of good thing wherein the soul may
rejoice, which is the supernatural. By this term we here understand all the
gifts and graces given by God which transcend natural virtue and capacity and
are called gratis datae. Such as these are the gifts of wisdom and
knowledge which God gave to Solomon, and the graces whereof Saint Paul speaks[629] -- namely, faith, gifts of
healing, the working of miracles, prophecy, knowledge and discernment of
spirits, interpretation of words and likewise the gift of tongues.
2. These
good things, it is true, are also spiritual, like those of the same kind of
which we have to speak presently; yet, since the two are so different, I have
thought well to make a distinction between them. The practice of these has an
intimate relation with the profit of man, and it is with a view to this profit
and to this end that God gives them. As Saint Paul says: 'The spirit is given
to none save for the profit of the rest;'[630] this is to be understood of
these graces. But the use and practice of spiritual graces has to do with the
soul and God alone, and with God and the soul, in the communion of
understanding and will, etc., as we shall say hereafter. And thus there is a
difference in their object, since spiritual graces have to do only with the
Creator and the soul; whereas supernatural graces have to do with the creature,
and furthermore differ in substance, and therefore in their operation, and thus
of necessity the instruction which we give concerning them differs also.
3.
Speaking now of supernatural graces and gifts as we here understand them, I say
that, in order to purge ourselves of vain joy in them, it is well here to
notice two benefits which are comprised in this kind of gift -- namely,
temporal and spiritual. The temporal benefits are the healing of infirmities,
the receiving of their sight by the blind, the raising of the dead, the casting
out of devils, prophesying concerning the future so that men may take heed to
themselves, and other things of the kind. The spiritual and eternal benefit is
that God is known and served through these good works by him that performs
them, or by those in whom and in whose presence they are performed.
4. With
respect to the first kind of benefit -- namely, the temporal -- supernatural
works and miracles merit little or no rejoicing on the part of the soul; for,
without the second kind of benefit, they are of little or no importance to man,
since they are not in themselves a means for uniting the soul with God, as
charity is. And these supernatural works and graces may be performed by those
who are not in a state of grace and charity, whether they truly give thanks and
attribute their gifts to God,[631] as did the wicked prophet
Balaam, and Solomon, or whether they perform them falsely, through the agency
of the devil, as did Simon Magus, or by means of other secrets of nature. These
works and marvels, if any of them were to be of any profit to him that worked
them, would be true works given by God. And Saint Paul teaches us what these
are worth without the second kind of benefit, saying: 'Though I speak with the
tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as a sounding
bell or metal. And though I have prophecy and know all mysteries and all
knowledge; and though I have all faith, even as much as may remove[632] mountains, and have not
charity, I am nothing, etc.'[633] Wherefore Christ will
refuse the requests of many who have esteemed their good works in this way,
when they beg Him for glory because of them, saying: Lord, have we not
prophesied in Thy name and worked many miracles? Then Christ will say to them:
'Depart from Me, workers of iniquity.'[634]
5. A
man, then, should rejoice, not when he has such graces and makes use of them,
but when he reaps from them the second spiritual fruit, namely that of serving
God in them with true charity, for herein is the fruit of eternal life. For
this cause Our Saviour reproved the disciples who were rejoicing because they
cast out devils, saying: 'Desire not to rejoice in this, that devils are
subject to you, but rather because your names are written in the book of life.'[635] This, according to good
theology, is as much as to say: Rejoice if your names are written in the book
of life. By this it is understood that a man should not rejoice save when he is
walking in the way of life, which he may do by performing good works in
charity; for where is the profit and what is the worth in the sight of God of
aught that is not love of God? And this love is not perfect if it be not strong
and discreet in purging the will of joy in all things, and if it be not set
upon doing the will of God alone. And in this manner the will is united with
God through these good things which are supernatural.
CHAPTER
XXXI
Of
the evils which come to the soul when it sets the rejoicing of the will upon
this kind of good.
THEE
principal evils, it seems to me, may come to the soul when it sets its
rejoicing upon supernatural good. These are: that it may deceive and be
deceived; that it may fall away from the faith; and that it may indulge in
vainglory or some other such vanity.
2. As to
the first of these, it is a very easy thing to deceive others, and to deceive
oneself, by rejoicing in this kind of operation. And the reason is that, in
order to know which of these operations are false and which are true, and how
and at what time they should be practised, much counsel and much light from God
are needful, both of which are greatly impeded by joy in these operations and
esteem for them. And this for two reasons: first, because joy blunts and
obscures the judgment; second, because, when a man has joy in these things, not
only does he the more quickly become eager for them, but he is also the more
impelled to practise them out of the proper season. And even supposing the
virtues and operations which are practised to be genuine, these two defects
suffice for us to be frequently deceived in them, either through not
understanding them as they should be understood, or through not profiting by
them and not using them at the times and in the ways that are most meet. For,
although it is true that, when God gives these gifts and graces, He gives light
by which to see them, and the impulse whereby a man may know at what times and
in what ways to use them; yet these souls, through the attachment and
imperfection which they may have with regard to them, may greatly err, by not
using them with the perfection that God desires of them therein, and in the way
and at the time that He wills. We read that Balaam desired to do this, when,
against the will of God, he determined to go and curse the people of Israel,
for which reason God was wroth and purposed to slay him.[636] And Saint James and Saint
John desired to call down fire from Heaven upon the Samaritans because they
gave not lodging to Our Saviour, and for this He reproved them.[637]
3. Here
it is evident that these persons were led to determine to perform these works,
when it was not meet for them to do so, by a certain imperfect passion, which
was inherent in their joy in them and esteem for them. For, when no such
imperfection exists, the soul is moved and determined to perform these virtues
only in the manner wherein God so moves it, and at His time, and until then it
is not right that they should be performed. It was for this reason that God
complained of certain prophets, through Jeremias, saying: 'I sent not the
prophets, and they ran; I spake not to them, and they prophesied.'[638] And later He says: 'They
deceived My people by their lying and their miracles, when I had not commanded
them, neither had I sent them.'[639] And in that place He says
of them likewise: 'They see the visions of their heart, and speak of them'[640]; which would not happen if
they had not this abominable attachment to these works.
4. From
these passages it is to be understood that the evil of this rejoicing not only
leads men to make wicked and perverse use of these graces given by God, as did
Balaam and those of whom the prophet here says that they worked miracles
whereby they deceived the people, but it even leads them to use these graces
without having been given them by God, like those who prophesied their own
fancies and published the visions which they invented or which the devil
represented to them. For, when the devil sees them affectioned to these things,
he opens a wide field to them, gives them abundant material and interferes with
them in many ways; whereupon they spread their sails and become shamelessly
audacious in the freedom wherewith they work these marvels.
5. Nor
does the evil stop here. To such a point does their joy in these works and
their eagerness for them extend that, if before they had a secret compact with
the devil (and many of them do in fact perform these works by such secret
compacts), it now makes them bold enough to work with him by an explicit and
manifest compact, submitting themselves to him, by agreement, as his disciples
and allies. Hence we have wizards, enchanters, magicians, soothsayers and
sorcerers. And so far does the joy of these persons in their works carry them
that, not only do they seek to purchase gifts and graces with money, as did
Simon Magus, in order to serve the devil, but they even strive to obtain sacred
things, and (which cannot be said without trembling) Divine things, for even
the very Body[641] of our Lord Jesus Christ
has been seen to be usurped for the use of their wicked deeds and abominations.
May God here extend and show to them His great mercy!
6.
Everyone will clearly understand how pernicious are such persons to themselves
and how prejudicial to Christianity. It may be noted here that all those
magicians and soothsayers who lived among the children of Israel, whom Saul
destroyed out of the land, because they desired to imitate the true prophets of
God, had fallen into such abominations and deceits.
7. He,
then, that has supernatural gifts and graces ought to refrain from desiring to
practise them, and from rejoicing in so doing, nor ought he to care to exercise
them; for God, Who gives Himself to such persons, by supernatural means, for
the profit of His Church and of its members, will move them likewise
supernaturally in such a manner and at such time as He desires. As He commanded
His faithful ones to take no thought as to what they were to say, or as to how
they were to say it, since this is the supernatural business of faith, it will
likewise be His will (as these operations are no less a supernatural matter)
that a man should wait and allow God to work by moving his heart, since it is
in the virtue of this working that there will be wrought all virtue. The
disciples (so we read in the Acts of the Apostles), although these graces and
gifts had been infused within them, prayed to God, beseeching Him to be pleased
to stretch forth His hand in making signs and performing works of healing
through them, that they might introduce the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ into
men's hearts.[642]
8. From
this first evil may proceed the second, which is a falling away from the faith;
this can come to pass after two manners. The first has respect to others; for,
when a man sets out, unseasonably and needlessly, to perform a marvel or a
mighty work, apart from the fact that this is tempting God, which is a great
sin, it may be that he will not succeed, and will engender in the hearts of men
discredit and contempt for the faith. For, although at times such persons may
succeed because for other reasons and purposes God so wills it, as in the case
of Saul's witch[643] (if it be true that it was
indeed Samuel who appeared on that occasion), they will not always so succeed;
and, when they do so, they go astray none the less and are blameworthy for
having used these graces when it was not fitting. The second manner in which we
may fall away is in ourselves and has respect to the merit of faith; for, if a
man make much account of these miracles, he ceases to lean upon the substantial
practice of faith, which is an obscure habit; and thus, where signs and
witnesses abound, there is less merit in believing. In this way Saint Gregory
says that faith has no merit when human reason provides experience.[644] And thus these marvels are
never worked by God save when they are really necessary for belief. Therefore,
to the end that His disciples should not be without merit, though they had
experience of His resurrection, He did many things before He showed Himself to
them, so that they should believe Him without seeing Him. To Mary Magdalene,
first of all, He showed the empty tomb, and afterwards bade the angels speak to
her[645] (for, as Saint Paul says,
faith comes by hearing);[646] so that, having heard, she
should believe before she saw. And, although she saw Him, it was as an ordinary
man,[647] that, by the warmth of His
presence, He might completely instruct her in the belief which she lacked. And
He first sent to tell His disciples, with the women, and afterwards they went
to see the tomb. And, as to those who went to Emmaus, He first of all enkindled
their hearts in faith so that they might see Him, dissembling with them as He
walked.[648] And finally He reproved
them all because they had not believed those who had announced to them His
resurrection.[649] And He reproved Saint
Thomas because he desired to have the witness of His wounds, by telling him
that they who saw Him not and yet believed Him were blessed.[650]
9. And
thus it is not the will of God that miracles should be wrought: when He works
them, He does so, as it were, because He cannot do otherwise. And for this
cause He reproved the Pharisees because they believed not save through signs,
saying: 'Unless ye see marvels and signs, ye believe not.'[651] Those, then, who love to
rejoice in these supernatural works lose much in the matter of faith.
10. The
third evil is that, because of their joy in these works, men commonly fall into
vainglory or some other vanity. For even their joy in these wonders, when it is
not, as we have said, purely in God and for God, is vanity; which is evident in
the reproof given by Our Lord to the disciples because they had rejoiced that
devils were subject to them;[652] for which joy, if it had
not been vain, He would not have reproved them.
CHAPTER
XXXII
Of
two benefits which are derived from the renunciation of rejoicing in the matter
of the supernatural graces.
BESIDES
the benefits which the soul gains by being delivered from the three evils
aforementioned through its renunciation of this joy, it acquires two excellent
benefits. The first is that it magnifies and exalts God: the second is that it
exalts itself. For God is exalted in the soul after two manners: first, by the
withdrawal of the heart and the joy of the will from all that is not God, in
order that they may be set upon Him alone. This David signified in the verse
which we quoted when we began to speak of the night of this faculty; namely:
'Man shall attain to a lofty heart, and God shall be exalted.'[653] For, when the heart is
raised above all things, the soul is exalted above them all.
2. And,
because in this way the soul centres itself in God alone, God is exalted and
magnified, when He reveals to the soul His excellence and greatness; for, in
this elevation of joy, God bears witness of Who He Himself is. This cannot be
done save if the will be voided of joy and consolation with respect to all
things, even as David said also, in these words: 'Be still and see that I am
God.'[654] And again he says: 'In a
desert land, dry and pathless, have I appeared before Thee, to see Thy power
and Thy glory.'[655] And, since it is true that
God is exalted by the fixing of the soul's rejoicing upon detachment from all
things, He is much more highly exalted when the soul withdraws itself from the
most wondrous of these things in order to fix its rejoicing on Him alone. For
these, being supernatural, are of a nobler kind; and thus for the soul to cast
them aside, in order to set its rejoicing upon God alone, is for it to
attribute greater glory and excellence to God than to them. For, the more and
the greater things a man despises for the sake of another, the more does he
esteem and exalt that other.
3.
Furthermore, God is exalted after the second manner when the will is withdrawn
from this kind of operation; for, the more God is believed and served without
testimonies and signs, the more He is exalted by the soul, for it believes more
concerning God than signs and miracles can demonstrate.
4. The
second benefit wherein the soul is exalted consists in this, that, withdrawing
the will from all desire for apparent signs and testimonies, it is exalted in
purest faith, which God increases and infuses within it much more intensely.
And, together with this, He increases in it the other two theological virtues,
which are charity and hope, wherein the soul enjoys the highest Divine
knowledge by means of the obscure and detached habit of faith; and it enjoys
great delight of love by means of charity, whereby the will rejoices in naught
else than in the living God; and likewise it enjoys satisfaction in the memory
by means of hope. All this is a wondrous benefit, which leads essentially and
directly to the perfect union of the soul with God.
CHAPTER
XXXIII
Which
begins to treat of the sixth kind of good wherein the soul may rejoice.
Describes its nature and makes the first division under this head.
SINCE
the intention of this work of ours is to lead the spirit through these good
things of the spirit even to the Divine union of the soul with God, it will not
behove both myself and the reader to give our consideration to this matter with
particular care. For, in speaking of this sixth kind of good, we have to treat
of the good things of the spirit, which are those that are of the greatest
service to this end. For it is quite certain, and quite an ordinary occurrence,[656] that some persons, because
of their lack of knowledge, make use of spiritual things with respect only to
sense, and leave the spirit empty. There will scarcely be anyone whose spirit
is not to a considerable degree corrupted by sweetness of sense; since, if the
water be drunk up before it reaches the spirit, the latter becomes dry and
barren.
2.
Coming to this matter, then, I say that by good things of the spirit I
understand all those that influence and aid the soul in Divine things and in
its intercourse with God, and the communications of God to the soul.
3.
Beginning by making a division between these supreme kinds of good, I say that
good things of the spirit are of two kinds: the one kind is delectable and the
other painful. And each of these kinds is likewise of two manners; for the
delectable kind consists of clear things that are distinctly understood, and
also of things that are not understood clearly or distinctly. The painful kind,
likewise, may be of clear and distinct things, or of things dark and confused.
4.
Between all these we may likewise make distinctions with respect to the
faculties of the soul. For some kinds of spiritual good, being of knowledge,
pertain to the understanding; others, being of affection, pertain to the will;
and others, inasmuch as they are imaginary, pertain to the memory.
5. We
shall leave for later consideration those good things that are painful, since
they pertain to the passive night, in treating of which we shall have to speak
of them; and likewise the delectable blessings which we described as being of
things confused and not distinct, of which we shall treat hereafter, since they
pertain to that general, confused and loving knowledge wherein is effected the
union of the soul with God, and which we passed over in the second book,
deferring it so that we might treat of it later[657] when we should make a
division between the apprehensions of the understanding. We shall speak here
and now of those delectable blessings which are of things clear and distinct.
CHAPTER
XXXIV
Of
those good things of the spirit which can be distinctly apprehended by the
understanding and the memory. Describes how the will is to behave in the matter
of rejoicing in them.
WE
might spend much time here upon the multitude of the apprehensions of the
memory and the understanding, teaching how the will is to conduct itself with
regard to the joy that it may have in them, had we not treated of this at
length in the second and the third book. But, since we there spoke of the
manner wherein it behoves these two faculties to act with respect to them, in
order that they may take the road to Divine union, and since it behoves the
will to conduct itself likewise as regards rejoicing in them, it is unnecessary
to go over this here; for it suffices to say that wheresoever we there said
that those faculties should void themselves of this or that apprehension, it is
to be understood also that the will should likewise be voided of joy in them.
And in the way wherein it is said that memory and understanding are to conduct
themselves with regard to all these apprehensions, the will must conduct itself
likewise; for, since the understanding and the other faculties cannot admit or
reject anything unless the will intervene therein, it is clear that the same
teaching that serves for the one will serve also for the other.
2. It
may there be seen, then, what is requisite in this case, for the soul will fall
into all the evils and perils to which we there referred if it cannot direct
the rejoicing of the will to God in all those apprehensions.
CHAPTER
XXXV
Of
the delectable spiritual good things which can be distinctly apprehended by the
will. Describes the kinds of these.
WE
can reduce all the kinds of good which can distinctly cause joy to the will to
four: namely, motive, provocative, directive and perfective. Of these we shall
speak in turn, each in its order; and first, of the motive kind -- namely,
images and portraits of saints, oratories and ceremonies.
2. As
touching images and portraits, there may be much vanity and vain rejoicing in
these. For, though they are most important for Divine worship and most
necessary to move the will to devotion, as is shown by the approval given to
them and the use made of them by our Mother Church (for which reason it is
always well that we should employ them, in order to awaken our lukewarmness),
there are many persons who rejoice rather in the painting and decoration of
them than in what they represent.
3. The
use of images has been ordained by the Church for two principal ends -- namely,
that we may reverence the saints in them, and that the will may be moved and
devotion to the saints awakened by them. When they serve this purpose they are
beneficial and the use of them is necessary; and therefore we must choose those
that are most true and lifelike, and that most move the will to devotion, and
our eyes must ever be fixed upon this motive rather than upon the value and
cunning of their workmanship and decoration. For, as I say, there are some who
pay more attention to the cunning with which an image is made, and to its
value, than to what it represents; and that interior devotion which they ought
to direct spiritually to the saint whom they see not, forgetting the image at
once, since it serves only as a motive, they squander upon the cunning and the
decoration of its outward workmanship. In this way sense is pleased and
delighted, and the love and rejoicing of the will remain there. This is a
complete hindrance to true spirituality, which demands annihilation of the
affections as to all particular things.
4. This
will become quite clear from the detestable custom which certain persons
observe with regard to images in these our days. Holding not in abhorence the
vain trappings of the world, they adorn images with the garments which from
time to time vain persons invent in order to satisfy their own pleasures and
vanities. So they clothe images with garments reprehensible even in themselves,
a kind of vanity which was, and is still, abhorrent to the saints whom the
images represent. Herein, with their help, the devil succeeds in canonizing his
vanities, by clothing the saints with them, not without causing them great
displeasure. And in this way the honest and grave devotion of the soul, which
rejects and spurns all vanity and every trace of it, becomes with them little
more than a dressing of dolls; some persons use images merely as idols upon
which they have set their rejoicing. And thus you will see certain persons who
are never tired of adding one image to another, and wish them to be of this or
that kind and workmanship, and to be placed in this or that manner, so as to be
pleasing to sense; and they make little account of the devotion of the heart.
They are as much attached to them as was Michas to his idols,[658] or as was Laban;[659] for the one ran out of his
house crying aloud because they were being taken from him; and the other,
having made a long journey and been very wroth because of them, disturbed all
the household stuff of Jacob, in searching for them.
5. The
person who is truly devout sets his devotion principally upon that which is
invisible; he needs few images and uses few, and chooses those that harmonize
with the Divine rather than with the human, clothing them, and with them
himself, in the garments of the world to come, and following its fashions
rather than those of this world. For not only does an image belonging to this
world in no way influence his desire; it does not even lead him to think of
this world, in spite of his having before his eyes something worldly, akin to
the world's interests. Nor is his heart attached to the images that he uses; if
they are taken from him, he grieves very little, for he seeks within himself
the living image, which is Christ crucified, for Whose sake he even desires
that all should be taken from him and he should have nothing. Even when the
motives and means which lead him closest to God are taken from him, he remains
in tranquility. For the soul is nearer perfection when it is tranquil and
joyous, though it be deprived of these motives, than if it has possession of
them together with desire and attachment. For, although it is good to be
pleased to have such images as assist the soul to greater devotion (for which
reason it is those which move it most that must always be chosen), yet it is
something far removed from perfection to be so greatly attached to them as to
possess them with attachment, so that, if they are taken away from the soul, it
becomes sad.
6. Let
the soul be sure that, the more closely it is attached to an image or a motive,
the less will its devotion and prayer mount to God. For, although it is true
that, since some are more appropriate than others, and excite devotion more
than others, it is well, for this reason alone, to be more affectioned to some
than to others, as I have just now said, yet there must be none of the
attachment and affection which I have described. Otherwise, that which has to
sustain the spirit in its flight to God, in total forgetfulness, will be wholly
occupied by sense, and the soul will be completely immersed in a delight
afforded it by what are but instruments. These instruments I have to use, but
solely in order to assist me in devotion; and, on account of my imperfection,
they may well serve me as a hindrance, no less so than may affection and
attachment to anything else.
7.[660] But, though perhaps in this
matter of images you may think that there is something to be said on the other
side, if you have not clearly understood how much detachment and poverty of
spirit is required by perfection, at least you cannot excuse the imperfection
which is commonly indulged with regard to rosaries; for you will hardly find
anyone who has not some weakness with regard to these, desiring them to be of
this workmanship rather than of that, or of this colour or metal rather than of
that, or decorated in some one style or in some other. Yet no one style is
better than another for the hearing of a prayer by God, for this depends upon
the simple and true heart, which looks at no more than pleasing God, and, apart
from the question of indulgences, cares no more for one rosary than for
another.
8. Our
vain concupiscence is of such a nature and quality that it tries to establish
itself in everything; and it is like the worm which destroys healthy wood, and
works upon things both good and evil. For what else is your desire to have a
rosary of cunning workmanship, and your wish that it shall be of one kind
rather than of another, but the fixing of your rejoicing upon the instrument?
It is like desiring to choose one image rather than another, and considering, not
if it will better awaken Divine love within you, but only if it is more
precious and more cunningly made. If you employed your desire and rejoicing
solely in the love of God, you would care nothing for any of these
considerations. It is most vexatious to see certain spiritual persons so
greatly attached to the manner and workmanship of these instruments and
motives, and to the curiosity and vain pleasure which they find in them: you
will never see them satisfied; they will be continually leaving one thing for
another, and forgetting and forsaking spiritual devotion for these visible
things, to which they have affection and attachment, sometimes of just the same
kind as that which a man has to temporal things; and from this they receive no
small harm.
CHAPTER
XXXVI
Which
continues to treat of images, and describes the ignorance which certain persons
have with respect to them.
THERE
is much that might be said of the stupidity which many persons display with
regard to images; their foolishness reaches such a point that some of them
place more confidence in one kind of image than in another, believing that God
will hear them more readily because of these than because of those, even when
both represent the same thing, as when there are two of Christ or two of Our
Lady. And this happens because they have more affection for the one kind of
workmanship than for the other; which implies the crudest ideas concerning
intercourse with God and the worship and honour that are owed to Him, which has
solely to do with the faith and the purity of heart of him that prays. For if
God sometimes grants more favours by means of one image rather than by another
of the same kind, it is not because there is more virtue to this effect in one
than in another (however much difference there may be in their workmanship),
but because some persons better awaken their own devotion by one than by
another. If they had the same devotion for the one as for the other (or even
without the use of either), they would receive the same favours from God.
2. Hence
the reason for which God works[661] miracles and grants favours
by means of one kind of image rather than by another is not that these should
be esteemed more than those, but to the end that, by means of the wonder that
they cause, there may be awakened sleeping devotion and the affection of the
faithful for prayer. And hence it comes that, as the contemplation of the image
at that time enkindles devotion and makes us to continue in prayer (both these
being means whereby God hears and grants that which is asked of Him),
therefore, at that time and by means of that same image, God continues to work
favours and miracles because of the prayer and affection which are then shown;
for it is certain that God does it not because of the image, which in itself is
no more than a painted thing, but because of the devotion and faith which the
person has toward the saint whom it represents. And so, if you had the same
devotion and faith in Our Lady before one image representing her as before
another, since the person represented is the same (and even, as we have said,
if you had no such image at all), you would receive the same favours. For it is
clear from experience that, when God grants certain favours and works miracles,
He does so as a rule by means of certain images which are not well carved or
cunningly formed or painted, so that the faithful may attribute nothing to the
figure or the painting.
3.
Furthermore, Our Lord is frequently wont to grant these favours by means of
those images that are most remote and solitary. One reason for this is that the
effort necessary to journey to them causes the affections to be increased and
makes the act of prayer more earnest. Another reason is that we may withdraw
ourselves from noise and from people when we pray, even as did the Lord.
Wherefore he that makes a pilgrimage does well if he makes it at a time when no
others are doing so, even though the time be unusual. I should never advise him
to make a pilgrimage when a great multitude is doing so; for, as a rule, on
these occasions, people return in a state of greater distraction than when they
went. And many set out on these pilgrimages and make them for recreation rather
than for devotion. Where there is devotion and faith, then, any image will
suffice; but, if there is none, none will suffice. Our Saviour was a very
living image in the world; and yet those that had no faith, even though they
went about with Him and saw His wondrous works, derived no benefit from them.
And this was the reason why, as the Evangelist says, He did few mighty works in
His own country.[662]
4. I
desire also to speak here of certain supernatural effects which are sometimes
produced by certain images upon particular persons. To certain images God gives
a particular spiritual influence upon such persons, so that the figure of the
image and the devotion caused by it remain fixed in the mind, and the person
has them ever present before him; and so, when he suddenly thinks of the image,
the spiritual influence which works upon him is of the same kind as when he saw
it -- sometimes it is less, but sometimes it is even greater -- yet, from
another image, although it be of more perfect workmanship, he will not obtain
the same spiritual effect.
5. Many
persons, too, have devotion to one kind of workmanship rather than to another,
and to some they will have no more than a natural inclination and affection,
just as we prefer seeing one person's face to another's. And they will
naturally become more attracted to a particular image, and will keep it more
vividly in their imagination, even though it be not as beautiful as others,
just because their nature is attracted to that kind of form and figure which it
represents. And some persons will think that the affection which they have for
such or such an image is devotion, whereas it will perhaps be no more than natural
inclination and affection. Again, it may happen that, when they look at an
image, they will see it move, or make signs and gestures and indications, or
speak. This, and the variety of supernatural effects caused by images of which
we have here been speaking, are, it is true, quite frequently good and true
effects, produced by God either to increase devotion or so that the soul may
have some support on which to lean, because it is somewhat weak, and so that it
may not be distracted. Yet frequently, again, they are produced by the devil in
order to cause deception and harm. We shall therefore give instruction
concerning this in the chapter following.
CHAPTER
XXXVII
Of
how the rejoicing of the will must be directed, by way of the images, to God,
so that the soul may not go astray because of them or be hindered by them.
JUST
as images are of great benefit for remembering God and the saints, and for
moving the will to devotion when they are used in the ordinary way, as is
fitting, so they will lead to great error if, when supernatural happenings come
to pass in connection with them, the soul should not be able to conduct itself
as is fitting for its journey to God. For one of the means by which the devil
lays hold on incautious souls, with great ease, and obstructs the way of
spiritual truth for them, is the use of extraordinary and supernatural
happenings, of which he gives examples by means of images, both the material
and corporeal images used by the Church, and also those which he is wont to fix
in the fancy in relation to such or such a saint, or an image of him,
transforming himself into an angel of light that he may deceive. For in those
very means which we possess for our relief and help the astute devil contrives
to hide himself in order to catch us when we are least prepared. Wherefore it
is concerning good things that the soul that is good must ever have the
greatest misgivings, for evil things bear their own testimony with them.
2.
Hence, in order to avoid all the evils which may happen to the soul in this
connection, which are its being hindered from soaring upward to God, or its
using images in an unworthy and ignorant manner, or its being deceived by them
through natural or supernatural means, all of which are things that we have
touched upon above; and in order likewise to purify the rejoicing of the will
in them and by means of them to lead the soul to God, for which reason the
Church recommends their use, I desire here to set down only one warning, which
will suffice for everything; and this warning is that, since images serve us as
a motive for invisible things, we must strive to set the motive and the
affection and the rejoicing of our will only upon that which in fact they
represent. Let the faithful soul, then, be careful that, when he sees the
image, he desire not that his senses should be absorbed by it, whether the
image be corporeal or imaginary, whether beautifully made, whether richly
adorned, whether the devotion that it causes be of sense or of spirit, whether
it produce supernatural manifestations or no. The soul must on no account set
store by these accidents, nor even regard them, but must raise up its mind from
the image to that which it represents, centering the sweetness and rejoicing of
its will, together with the prayer and devotion of its spirit, upon God or upon
the saint who is being invoked; for that which belongs to the living reality
and to the spirit should not be usurped by sense and by the painted object. If
the soul do this, it will not be deceived, for it will set no store by anything
that the image may say to it, nor will it occupy its sense or its spirit in
such a way that they cannot travel freely to God, nor will it place more
confidence in one image than in another. And an image which would cause the
soul devotion by supernatural means will now do so more abundantly, since the
soul will now go with its affections directly to God. For, whensoever God
grants these and other favours, He does so by inclining the affection of the
joy of the will to that which is invisible, and this He wishes us also to do,
by annihilating the power and sweetness of the faculties with respect to these
visible things of sense.
CHAPTER
XXXVIII
Continues
to describe motive good. Speaks of oratories and places dedicated to prayer.
I
THINK it has now been explained how the spiritual person may find as great
imperfection in the accidents of images, by setting his pleasure and rejoicing
upon them, as in other corporeal and temporal things, and perchance
imperfection more perilous still. And I say perchance more perilous, because,
when a person says that the objects of his rejoicing are holy, he feels more
secure, and fears not to cling to them and become attached to them in a natural
way. And thus such a person is sometimes greatly deceived, thinking himself to
be full of devotion because he perceives that he takes pleasure in these holy
things, when, perchance, this is due only to his natural desire and
temperament, which lead him to this just as they lead him to other things.
2. Hence
it arises (we are now beginning to treat of oratories) that there are some
persons who never tire of adding to their oratories images of one kind and then
of another, and take pleasure in the order and array in which they set them
out, so that these oratories may be well adorned and pleasing to behold. Yet
they love God no more when their oratories are ornate than when they are simple
-- nay, rather do they love Him less, since, as we have said, the pleasure
which they set upon their painted adornments is stolen from the living reality.
It is true that all the adornment and embellishment and respect that can be
lavished upon images amounts to very little, and that therefore those who have
images and treat them with a lack of decency and reverence are worthy of severe
reproof, as are those who have images so ill-carved that they take away
devotion rather than produce it, for which reason some image-makers who are
very defective and unskilled in this art should be forbidden to practise it.
But what has that to do with the attachment and affection and desire which you
have[663] for these outward
adornments and decorations, when your senses are absorbed by them in such a way
that your heart is hindered from journeying to God, and from loving Him and
forgetting all things for love of Him? If you fail in the latter aim for the
sake of the former, not only will God not esteem you for it, but He will even chasten
you for not having sought His pleasure in all things rather than your own. This
you may clearly gather from the description of that feast which they made for
His Majesty when He entered Jerusalem. They received Him with songs and with
branches, and the Lord wept;[664] for their hearts were very
far removed from Him and they paid Him reverence only with outward adornments
and signs. We may say of them that they were making a festival for themselves
rather than for God; and this is done nowadays by many, who, when there is some
solemn festival in a place, are apt to rejoice because of the pleasure which
they themselves will find in it -- whether in seeing or in being seen, or
whether in eating or in some other selfish thing -- rather than to rejoice at
being acceptable to God. By these inclinations and intentions they are giving
no pleasure to God. Especially is this so when those who celebrate festivals
invent ridiculous and undevout things to intersperse in them, so that they may
incite people to laughter, which causes them greater distraction. And other
persons invent things which merely please people rather than move them to
devotion.
3. And
what shall I say of persons who celebrate festivals for reasons connected with
their own interests? They alone, and God Who sees them, know if their regard
and desire are set upon such interests rather than upon the service of God. Let
them realize, when they act in any of these ways, that they are making
festivals in their own honour rather than in that of God. For that which they
do for their own pleasure, or for the pleasure of men, God will not account as
done for Himself. Yea, many who take part in God's festivals will be enjoying
themselves even while God is wroth with them, as He was with the children of
Israel when they made a festival, and sang and danced before their idol,
thinking that they were keeping a festival in honour of God; of whom He slew
many thousands.[665] Or again, as He was with
the priests Nabad and Abiu, the sons of Aaron, whom He slew with the censers in
their hands, because they offered strange fire.[666] Or as with the man that
entered the wedding feast ill-adorned and ill-garbed, whom the king commanded
to be thrown into outer darkness, bound hand and foot.[667] By this it may be known how
ill God suffers these irreverences in assemblies that are held for His service.
For how many festivals, O my God, are made Thee by the sons of men to the
devil's advantage rather than to Thine! The devil takes a delight in them,
because such gatherings bring him business, as they might to a trader. And how
often wilt Thou say concerning them: 'This people honoureth Me with their lips
alone, but their heart is far from Me, for they serve Me from a wrong cause!'[668] For the sole reason for
which God must be served is that He is Who He is, and not for any other mediate
ends. And thus to serve Him for other reasons than solely that He is Who He is,
is to serve Him without regard for Him as the Ultimate Reason.
4.
Returning now to oratories, I say that some persons deck them out for their own
pleasure rather than for the pleasure of God; and some persons set so little
account by the devotion which they arouse that they think no more of them than
of their own secular antechambers; some, indeed, think even less of them, for
they take more pleasure in the profane than in the Divine.
5. But
let us cease speaking of this and speak only of those who are more particular[669] -- that is to say, of those
who consider themselves devout persons. Many of these centre their desire and
pleasure upon their oratory and its adornments, to such an extent that they
squander on them all the time that they should be employing in prayer to God and
interior recollection. They cannot see that, by not arranging their oratory
with a view to the interior recollection and peace of the soul, they are as
much distracted by it as by anything else, and will find the pleasure which
they take in it a continual occasion of unrest, and more so still if anyone
endeavors to deprive them of it.
CHAPTER
XXXIX
Of
the way in which oratories and churches should be used, in order to direct the
spirit to God.
WITH
regard to the direction of the spirit to God through this kind of good, it is
well to point out that it is certainly lawful, and even expedient, for
beginners to find some sensible sweetness and pleasure in images, oratories and
other visible objects of devotion, since they have not yet weaned or detached their
desire[670] from things of the world,
so that they can leave the one pleasure for the other. They are like a child
holding something in one of its hands; to make it loosen its hold upon it we
give it something else to hold in the other hand lest it should cry because
both its hands are empty. But the spiritual person that would make progress
must strip himself of all those pleasures and desires wherein the will can
rejoice, for pure spirituality is bound very little to any of those objects,
but only to interior recollection and mental converse with God. So, although he
makes use of images and oratories, he does so only fleetingly; his spirit at
once comes to rest in God and he forgets all things of sense.
2.
Wherefore, although it is best to pray where there is most decency, yet
notwithstanding one should choose the place where sense and spirit are least
hindered from journeying to God. Here we should consider that answer made by
Our Saviour to the Samaritan woman, when she asked Him which was the more
fitting place wherein to pray, the temple or the mountain, and He answered her
that true prayer was not connected with the mountain or with the temple, but
that those who adored the Father and were pleasing to Him were those that adored
Him in spirit and in truth.[671] Wherefore, although
churches and pleasant places are set apart and furnished for prayer (for a
church must not be used for aught else), yet, for a matter as intimate as
converse held with God, one should choose that place which gives sense the
least occupation and the least encouragement. And thus it must not be a place
that is pleasant and delectable to sense (like the places that some habitually
contrive to find), for otherwise, instead of the recollection of the spirit in
God, naught will be achieved save recreation and pleasure and delight of sense.
Wherefore it is good to choose a place that is solitary, and even wild, so that
the spirit may resolutely and directly soar upward to God, and not be hindered
or detained by visible things; for, although these sometimes help to raise up
the spirit, it is better to forget them at once and to rest in God. For this
reason Our Saviour was wont to choose solitary places for prayer, and such as
occupied the senses but little, in order to give us an example. He chose places
that lifted up the soul to God, such as mountains, which are lifted up above
the earth, and are ordinarily bare, thus offering no occasion for recreation of
the senses.
3. The
truly spiritual man, then, is never tied to a place of prayer because of its
suitability in this way or in that, nor does he even consider such a thing,
for, if he did so, he would still be tied to sense. But, to the end that he may
attain interior recollection, and forget everything, he chooses the places most
free from sensible objects and attractions, withdrawing his attention from all
these, that he may be able to rejoice in his God and be far removed from all
things created. But it is a remarkable thing to see some spiritual persons, who
waste all their time in setting up oratories and furnishing places which please
their temperaments or inclinations, yet make little account of interior
recollection, which is the most important thing, but of which they have very
little. If they had more of it, they would be incapable of taking pleasure in
those methods and manners of devotion, which would simply weary them.
CHAPTER
XL
Which
continues to direct the spirit to interior recollection with reference to what
has been said.
THE
reason, then, why some spiritual persons never enter perfectly into the true
joys of the spirit is that they never succeed in raising their desire for
rejoicing above these things that are outward and visible. Let such take note
that, although the visible oratory and temple is a decent place set apart for
prayer, and an image is a motive to prayer, the sweetness and delight of the
soul must not be set upon the motive or the visible temple, lest the soul
should forget to pray in the living temple, which is the interior recollection
of the soul. The Apostle, to remind us of this, said: 'See that your bodies are
living temples of the Holy Spirit, Who dwelleth in you.'[672] And this thought is
suggested by the words of Christ which we have quoted, namely that they who
truly adore God must needs adore Him in spirit and in truth.[673] For God takes little heed
of your oratories and your places set apart for prayer if your desire and
pleasure are bound to them, and thus you have little interior detachment, which
is spiritual poverty and renunciation of all things that you may possess.
2. In
order, then, to purge the will from vain desire and rejoicing in this matter,
and to lead it to God in your prayer, you must see only to this, that your
conscience is pure, and your will perfect with God, and your spirit truly set
upon Him. Then, as I have said, you should choose the place that is the
farthest withdraw and the most solitary that you can find, and devote all the
rejoicing of the will to calling upon God and glorifying Him; and you should
take no account of those whims about outward things, but rather strive to
renounce them. For, if the soul be attached to the delight of sensible
devotion, it will never succeed in passing onward to the power of spiritual
delight, which is found in spiritual detachment coming through interior
recollection.
CHAPTER
XLI
Of
certain evils into which those persons fall who give themselves to pleasure in
sensible objects and who frequent places of devotion in the way that has been
described.
MANY
evils, both interior and exterior, come to the spiritual person when he desires
to follow after sweetness of sense in these matters aforementioned. For, as
regards the spirit, he will never attain to interior spiritual recollection,
which consists in neglecting all such things, and in causing the soul to forget
all this sensible sweetness, and to enter into true recollection, and to
acquire the virtues by dint of effort. As regards exterior things, he will
become unable to dispose himself for prayer in all places, but will be confined
to places that are to his taste; and thus he will often fail in prayer,
because, as the saying goes, he can understand no other book than his own
village.
2.
Furthermore, this desire leads such persons into great inconstancy. Some of
them never continue in one place or even always in one state: now they will be
seen in one place, now in another; now they will go to one hermitage, now to
another; now they will set up this oratory, now that. Some of them, again, wear
out their lives in changing from one state or manner of living to another. For,
as they possess only the sensible fervour and joy to be found in spiritual
things, and have never had the strength to attain spiritual recollection by the
renunciation of their own will, and submitting to suffering inconveniences,
whenever they see a place which they think well suited for devotion, or any
kind of life or state well adapted to their temperament and inclination, they
at once go after it and leave the condition or state in which they were before.
And, as they have come under the influence of that sensible pleasure, it
follows that they soon seek something new, for sensible pleasure is not
constant, but very quickly fails.
CHAPTER
XLII
Of
three different kinds of place for devotion and of how the will should conduct
itself with regard to them.
I
CAN think of three kinds of place by means of which God is wont to move the
will to devotion. The first consists in certain dispositions of the ground and
situation, which, by means of a pleasing effect of variety, whether obtained by
the arrangement of the ground or of trees, or by means of quiet solitude,
naturally awaken devotion. These places it is beneficial to use, if they at
once lead the will to God and cause it to forget the places themselves, even
as, in order to reach one's journey's end, it is advisable not to pause and
consider the means and motive of the journey more than is necessary. For those
who strive to refresh their desires and to gain sensible sweetness will rather
find spiritual aridity and distraction; for spiritual sweetness and
satisfaction are not found save in interior recollection.
2. When
they are in such a place, therefore, they should forget it and strive to be
inwardly with God, as though they were not in that place at all. For, if they
be attached to the pleasure and delight of the place, as we have said, they are
seeking refreshment of sense and instability of spirit rather than spiritual
repose. The anchorites and other holy hermits, who in the most vast and
pleasing wildernesses selected the smallest places that sufficed for them,
built there the smallest cells and caves, in which to imprison themselves.
Saint Benedict was in such a place for three years, and another -- namely,
Saint Simon[674] -- bound himself with a
cord that he might have no more liberty nor go any farther than to places
within its reach; and even so did many who are too numerous ever to be counted.
Those saints understood very clearly that, if they quenched not the desire and
eagerness for spiritual sweetness and pleasure, they could not attain to
spirituality.
3. The
second kind is of a more special nature, for it relates to certain places (not
necessarily deserts, but any places whatsoever) where God is accustomed to
grant to a few special persons certain very delectable spiritual favours;
ordinarily, such a place attracts the heart of the person who has received a
favour there, and sometimes gives him great desires and yearnings to return to
it; although, when he goes there, what happened to him before is not repeated,
since this is not within his control. For God grants these favours when and how
and where He pleases, without being tied to any place or time, nor to the
free-will of the person to whom He grants them. Yet it is good to go and pray
in such places at times if the desire is free from attachment; and this for
three reasons. First, because although, as we said, God is not bound to any
place, it would seem that He has willed to be praised by a soul in the place
where He has granted it a favour. Secondly, because in that place the soul is
more mindful to give thanks to God for that which it has received there.
Thirdly, because, by remembering that favour, the soul's devotion is the more
keenly awakened.
4. It is
for these reasons that a man should go to such places, and not because he
thinks that God is bound to grant him favours there, in such a way as to be
unable to grant them wheresoever He wills, for the soul is a fitter and more
comely place for God than any physical place. Thus we read in Holy Scripture
that Abraham built an altar in the very place where God appeared to him, and
invoked His holy name there, and that afterwards, coming from Egypt, he
returned by the same road where God had appeared to him, and called upon God
there once more at the same altar which he had built.[675] Jacob, too, marked the
place where God had appeared to him, leaning upon a ladder, by raising there a
stone which he anointed with oil.[676] And Agar gave a name to the
place where the angel had appeared to her, and prized it highly, saying: 'Of a
truth I have here seen the back of Him that seeth me.'[677]
5. The
third kind consists of certain special places which God chooses that He may be
called upon and served there, such as Mount Sinai, where He gave the law to
Moses.[678] And the place that He
showed Abraham, that he might sacrifice his son there.[679] And likewise Mount Horeb,
where He appeared to our father Elias.[680]
6. The
reason for which God chooses these places rather than others, that He may be
praised there, is known to Himself alone. What it behoves us to know is that
all is for our advantage, and that He will hear our prayers there, and also in
any place where we pray to Him with perfect faith; although there is much
greater opportunity for us to be heard in places dedicated to His service,
since the Church has appointed and dedicated those places to that end.
CHAPTER
XLIII
Which
treats of other motives for prayer that many persons use -- namely, a great
variety of ceremonies.
THE
useless joys and the imperfect attachment which many persons have to the things
which we have described are perhaps to some extent excusable, since these
persons act more or less innocently with regard to them. But the great reliance
which some persons place in many kinds of ceremonies introduced by uninstructed
persons who lack the simplicity of faith is intolerable. Let us here disregard
those which bear various extraordinary names or use terms that signify nothing,
and also other things that are not sacred which persons who are foolish and
gross and mistrustful in spirit are wont to interpolate in their prayers. For
these are clearly evil, and involve sin, and many of them imply a secret
compact with the devil; by such means these persons provoke God to wrath and
not to mercy, wherefore I treat them not here.
2. I
wish to speak solely of those ceremonies into which enters nothing of a
suspicious nature, and of which many people make use nowadays with indiscreet
devotion, attributing such efficacy and faith to these ways and manners wherein
they desire to perform their devotions and prayers, that they believe that, if
they fail to the very slightest extent in them, or go beyond their limits, God
will not be served by them nor will He hear them. They place more reliance upon
these methods and kinds of ceremony than upon the reality of their prayer, and
herein they greatly offend and displease God. I refer, for example, to a Mass
at which there must be so many candles, neither more nor fewer; which has to be
said by the priest in such or such a way; and must be at such or such an hour,
and neither sooner nor later; and must be after a certain day, neither sooner
nor later; and the prayers and stations must be made at such and such times,
with such or such ceremonies, and neither sooner nor later nor in any other manner;
and the person who makes them must have such or such qualities or
qualifications. And there are those who think that, if any of these details
which they have laid down be wanting, nothing is accomplished.
3. And,
what is worse, and indeed intolerable, is that certain persons desire to feel
some effect in themselves, or to have their petitions fulfilled, or to know
that the purpose of these ceremonious prayers of theirs will be accomplished.
This is nothing less than to tempt God and to anger Him greatly, so much so
that He sometimes gives leave to the devil to deceive them, making them feel
and understand things that are far removed from the benefit of their soul,
which they deserve because of the attachment that they show in their prayers,
not desiring God's will, rather than their own desires, to be done therein; and
thus, because they place not their whole confidence in God, nothing goes well
with them.[681]
CHAPTER
XLIV
Of
the manner wherein the rejoicing and strength of the will must be directed to
God through these devotions.
LET
these persons, then, know that, the more reliance they place on these things
and ceremonies, the less confidence they have in God, and that they will not
obtain of God that which they desire. There are certain persons who pray for
their own ends rather than for the honour of God. Although they suppose that a
thing will be done if it be for the service of God, and not otherwise, yet,
because of their attachment to it and the vain rejoicing which they have in it,
they multiply a large number of petitions for a thing, when it would be better
for them to substitute others of greater importance to them, such as for the
true cleansing of their consciences, and for a real application to things
concerning their own salvation, leaving to a much later season all those other
petitions of theirs which are not of this kind. And in this way they would
attain that which is of the greatest importance to them, and at the same time
all the other things that are good for them (although they might not have
prayed for them), much better and much earlier than if they had expended all
their energy on those things. For this the Lord promised, through the
Evangelist, saying: 'Seek ye first and principally the Kingdom of God and His
righteousness, and all these other things shall be added unto you.'[682]
2. This
is the seeking and the asking that is most pleasing to God, and, in order to
obtain the fulfilment of the petitions which we have in our hearts, there is no
better way than to direct the energy of our prayer to the thing that most
pleases God. For then not only will He give that which we ask of Him, which is
salvation, but also that which He sees to be fitting and good for us, although we
pray not for it. This David makes clear in a psalm where he says: 'The Lord is
nigh unto those that call upon Him in truth,[683] that beg Him for the things
that are in the highest degree true, such as salvation; for of these he then
says: 'He will fulfill the will of them that fear Him, and will hear their
cries, and will save them. For God is the guardian of those that truly love
Him.'[684] And thus, this nearness to
God of which David here speaks is naught else than His being ready to satisfy
them and grant them even that which it has not passed through their minds to
ask. Even so we read that, because Solomon did well in asking God for a thing
that was pleasing to Him -- namely, wisdom to lead and rule his people
righteously -- God answered him, saying: 'Because more than aught else thou
didst desire wisdom, and askedst not victory over thine enemies, with their
deaths, nor riches, nor long life, I will not only give thee the wisdom that
thou askest to rule My people righteously, but I will likewise give thee that
which thou hast not asked -- namely, riches and substance and glory -- so that
neither before thee nor after thee shall there be any king like unto thee.'[685] And this He did, giving him
peace also from his enemies, so that all around him should pay tribute to him
and trouble him not: We read of a similar incident in Genesis, where God
promised Abraham to increase the generation of his lawful son, like the stars
of Heaven, even as he had asked of Him, and said to him: 'Likewise I will
increase the son of the bondwoman, for he is thy son.'[686]
3. In
this way, then, the strength of the will and its rejoicing must be directed to
God in our petitions, and we must not be anxious to cling to ceremonial
inventions which are not used or approved by the Catholic Church. We must leave
the method and manner of saying Mass to the priest, whom the Church sets there
in her place, giving him her orders as to how he is to do it. And let not such
persons use new methods, as if they knew more than the Holy Spirit and His
Church. If, when they pray in their simplicity, God hears them not, let them
not think that He will hear them any the more however many may be their
inventions. For God is such that, if they behave towards Him as they should,
and conformably to His nature, they will do with Him whatsoever they will; but,
if they act from selfish ends, they cannot speak with Him.
4. With
regard to further ceremonies connected with prayer and other devotions, let not
the will be set upon other ceremonies and forms of prayer than those which
Christ taught us.[687] For it is clear that, when
His disciples besought Him that He would teach them to pray, He would tell them
all that is necessary in order that the Eternal Father may hear us, since He
knew the Father's nature so well. Yet all that He taught them was the Pater
Noster, with its seven petitions, wherein are included all our needs, both
spiritual and temporal; and He taught them not many other kinds of prayer,
either in words or in ceremonies. On the contrary, He told them that when they
prayed they ought not to desire to speak much, since our heavenly Father knows
well what is meet for us. He charged them only, but with great insistence, that
they should persevere in prayer (that is, in the prayer of the Pater Noster),
saying elsewhere: 'It behoves us always to pray and never to fail.'[688] But He taught not a variety
of petitions, but rather that our petitions should be repeated frequently and
with fervour and care. For, as I say, in them is contained all that is the will
of God and all that is meet for us. Wherefore, when His Majesty drew near three
times to the Eternal Father, He prayed all these three times, using those very
words of the Pater Noster, as the Evangelists tell us, saying: 'Father, if it
cannot be but that I must drink this cup, Thy will be done.'[689] And the ceremonies which He
taught us to use in our prayers are only two. Either we are to pray in the
secret place of our chamber, where without noise and without paying heed to any
we can pray with the most perfect and pure heart, as He said in these words:
'When thou shalt pray, enter into thy chamber and shut the door and pray.'[690] Or else He taught us to go
to a solitary and desert place, as He Himself did, and at the best and quietest
time of night. And thus there is no reason to fix any limit of time, or any
appointed days, or to set apart one time more than another for our devotions,
neither is there any reason to use other forms, in our words and prayers, nor
phrases with double meanings, but only those which the Church uses and in the
manner wherein she uses them; for all are reduced to those which we have
described -- namely, the Pater Noster.
5. I do
not for this reason condemn -- nay, I rather approve -- the fixing of days on
which certain persons sometimes arrange to make their devotions, such as novenas,
or other such things. I condemn only their conduct as concerns the fixity of
their methods and the ceremonies with which they practise them. Even so did
Judith rebuke and reprove the people of Bethulia because they had limited God
as to the time wherein they awaited His mercy, saying: 'Do ye set God a time
for his mercies?' To do this, she says, is not to move God to clemency, but to
awaken His wrath.[691]
CHAPTER
XLV
Which
treats of the second kind of distinct good, wherein the will may rejoice
vainly.
THE
second kind of distinct and delectable good wherein the will may rejoice vainly
is that which provokes or persuades us to serve God and which we have called
provocative. This class comprises preachers, and we might speak of it in two
ways, namely, as affecting the preachers themselves and as affecting their
hearers. For, as regards both, we must not fail to observe that both must
direct the rejoicing of their will to God, with respect to this exercise.
2. In
the first place, it must be pointed out to the preacher, if he is to cause his
people profit and not to embarrass himself with vain joy and presumption, that
preaching is a spiritual exercise rather than a vocal one. For, although it is
practised by means of outward words, its power and efficacy reside not in these
but in the inward spirit. Wherefore, however lofty be the doctrine that is
preached, and however choice the rhetoric and sublime the style wherein it is
clothed, it brings as a rule no more benefit than is present in the spirit of
the preacher. For, although it is true that the word of God is of itself
efficacious, according to those words of David, 'He will give to His voice a
voice of virtue,'[692] yet fire, which has also a
virtue -- that of burning -- will not burn when the material is not prepared.
3. To
the end that the preacher's instruction may exercise its full force, there must
be two kinds of preparation: that of the preacher and that of the hearer; for
as a rule the benefit derived from a sermon depends upon the preparation of the
teacher. For this reason it is said that, as is the master, so is wont to be
the disciple. For, when in the Acts of the Apostles those seven sons of that
chief priest of the Jews were wont to cast out devils in the same form as Saint
Paul, the devil rose up against them, saying: 'Jesus I confess and Paul I know,
but you, who are ye?'[693] And then, attacking them,
he stripped and wounded them. This was only because they had not the fitting
preparation, and not because Christ willed not that they should do this in His
name. For the Apostles once found a man, who was not a disciple, casting out a
devil in the name of Christ, and they forbade him, and the Lord reproved them
for it, saying: 'Forbid him not, for no man that has done any mighty works in
My name shall be able to speak evil of Me after a brief space of time.'[694] But He is angry with those
who, though teaching the law of God, keep it not, and, which preaching
spirituality, possess it not. For this reason God says, through Saint Paul:
'Thou teachest others and teachest not thyself. Thou who preachest that men
should not steal, stealest.'[695] And through David the Holy
Spirit says: 'To the sinner, God said: "Why dost thou declare My justice
and take My law in thy mouth, when thou hast hated discipline and cast My words
behind thee?"'[696] Here it is made plain that
He will give them no spirituality whereby they may bear fruit.
4. It is
a common matter of observation that, so far as we can judge here below, the
better is the life of the preacher, the greater is the fruit that he bears,
however undistinguished his style may be, however small his rhetoric and
however ordinary his instruction. For it is the warmth that comes from the
living spirit that clings; whereas the other kind of preacher will produce very
little profit, however sublime be his style and his instruction. For, although
it is true that a good style and gestures and sublime instruction and
well-chosen language influence men and produce much effect when accompanied by
true spirituality, yet without this, although a sermon gives pleasure and
delight to the sense and the understanding, very little or nothing of its
sweetness remains in the will. As a rule, in this case, the will remains as
weak and remiss with regard to good works as it was before. Although marvelous
things may have been marvellously said by the preacher, they serve only to
delight the ear, like a concert of music or a peal of bells; the spirit, as I
say, goes no farther from its habits than before, since the voice has no virtue
to raise one that is dead from his grave.
5.
Little does it matter that one kind of music should sound better than another
if the better kind move me not more than the other to do good works. For,
although marvellous things may have been said, they are at once forgotten if
they have not fired the will. For, not only do they of themselves bear little
fruit, but the fastening of the sense upon the pleasure that it finds in that
sort of instruction hinders the instruction from passing to the spirit, so that
only the method and the accidents of what has been said are appreciated, and
the preacher is praised for this characteristic or for that, and followed from
such motives as these rather than because of the purpose of amendment of life
which he has inspired. This doctrine is well explained to the Corinthians by
Saint Paul, where he says: 'I, brethren, when I came to you, came not preaching
Christ with loftiness of instruction and of wisdom, and my words and my
preaching consisted not in the rhetoric of human wisdom, but in the showing
forth of the spirit and of the truth.'[697]
6.
Although the intention of the Apostle here, like my own intention, is not to
condemn good style and rhetoric and phraseology, for, on the contrary, these
are of great importance to the preacher, as in everything else, since good
phraseology and style raise up and restore things that are fallen and ruined,
even as bad phraseology ruins and destroys good things . . .[698]
