passing about us and within us, ever content with God--content with
what He does with us, and with what He gives us to do. Let us beware of
imprudently falling a prey to those numerous disquieting reflections
which, like so many tangled labyrinths, entrap the mind into useless,
endless wanderings. Let us avoid this snare of self-love by springing
over it, and not by following its interminable windings.
Onward, my soul, through weariness, sickness, dryness, infirmities
of temper, weakness of mind, snares of the devil and of men, their
suspicions, jealousies, evil thoughts, and prejudices! Let us soar
like the eagle above all these clouds, our eyes fixed upon the Sun
of Justice, and its rays which are our obligations. Doubtless we may
feel these trials; it does not depend upon us to be insensible to
them. But let us remember that our life is not a life of sentiment.
Let us live in this superior part of the soul where God and His will
work out for us an ever uniform, equable, immutable eternity. In this
wholly spiritual dwelling where the Uncreated, the Ineffable, the
Infinite holds the soul immeasurably separated from all shadows and
created atoms, reigns perpetual calm, even though the senses be the
prey of tempests. We have learned to rise above the senses; their
restlessness, their disquiet, their comings and goings, and their
hundred transformations disturb us no more than the clouds which
darken the sky for a moment and disappear. We know that in the region
of the senses all things are like the wind, without sequence or order,
in continual vicissitude. God’s will forms the eternal charm of the
heart in the state of faith, just as in the state of glory it shall
constitute its true happiness; and this glorious state of the heart
will influence the whole material being at present a prey to terrors
and temptations. Under these appearances, however terrible they may
be, the action of God, giving to the material being a facility wholly
divine, will cause it to shine like the sun; for the faculties of the
sensitive soul and those of the body are prepared here below like
gold, iron, flax, and stone. And like these different substances they
will attain the purity and splendor of their form only after they
have passed through many processes and suffered loss and destruction.
All that we endure here below at the hand of God is intended as a
preparation for our future state.
The faithful soul who knows the secret of God’s ways dwells in perfect
peace; and all that transpires within her, so far from alarming, only
reassures her. Intimately convinced that it is God who guides her, she
accepts everything as a grace, and lives wholly forgetful of self,
the object upon which God labors, that she may think only of the work
committed to her care. Her love unceasingly animates the courage which
enables her to faithfully and carefully fulfil her obligations.
Except the sins of a self-abandoned soul, which are light, and even
converted to her good by the divine will, there is nothing _distinctly
manifest_ in her but the action of grace. And this action is distinctly
manifest in all those painful or consoling impressions by means of
which the divine will unceasingly works the soul’s good. I use the term
“distinctly manifest,” for of all that transpires within the soul,
these impressions are what it best distinguishes. To find God under all
these appearances is the great art of faith; to make everything a means
of uniting one’s self with God is the exercise of faith.
_CHAPTER II._
The more God seems to withdraw Light from the Soul abandoned to His
Direction, the more Safely He guides Her.
It is particularly in souls wholly abandoned to God that the words of
St. John are accomplished: _You have no need that any man teach you;
but as His unction teacheth you of all things_. To know what God asks
of them, they have but to consult this unction, to sound the heart,
to heed its voice; it interprets the will of God according to their
present needs. For the divine action disguised reveals its designs, not
by thoughts, but by intuition. It manifests them to the soul either by
necessity, leaving it but the one present course to choose, or by a
first impulse, a sort of supernatural transport which impels to action
without reflection, or, finally, by a certain attraction or repulsion
which, while leaving the soul perfect liberty, no less attracts it to
or withdraws it from objects.
Were we to judge by appearances, it would seem most unwise to thus
pursue a course so uncertain; a course of conduct in which, according
to ordinary rules, we find nothing stable, uniform, or regular. It
is nevertheless at bottom the highest state of virtue, and one which
usually is only attained after long exercise therein. The virtue of
this state is virtue in all its purity; in fact, it is perfection. The
soul is like a musician who to long practice unites great knowledge
of music; he is so full of his art that, without any effort, all that
he does therein is perfection; and if his compositions be examined,
they will be found in perfect conformity with prescribed rules. One
is convinced that he will never succeed better than when he acts
without restraint, untrammelled by rules which fetter genius when too
scrupulously followed; and his impromptus, like so many masterpieces,
are the admiration of connoisseurs.
Thus the soul, after long exercise in the science and practice of
perfection under the empire of reason and the methods with which she
aids grace, insensibly forms a habit of acting in all things by divine
instinct. Such a soul seems to intuitively accept as best the first
duty that presents itself, without resorting to the reasoning which she
formerly found necessary.
She has only to act according to circumstances, unable to do anything
but abandon herself to that grace which can never mislead her. The work
of a soul in this state of simplicity is nothing less than marvellous
to eyes and minds divinely enlightened. Without rule, yet exactness
itself; without measure, yet nothing better proportioned; without
reflection, yet nothing more profound; without ingenuity, yet nothing
better managed; without effort, yet nothing more efficacious; without
forethought, yet nothing better fitted to unforeseen events.
The divine action frequently gives by means of spiritual reading
knowledge which the authors never possessed. God makes use of the
words and actions of others to inspire hidden truths. If He wills to
enlighten us by such means, it is the part of the self-abandoned soul
to accept them; and all means which become the instrument of the divine
will possess an efficacy far surpassing their natural and apparent
virtue.
A life of self-abandonment is characterized by mystery; it is a
life which receives from God extraordinary miraculous gifts through
commonplace, fortuitous events, chance encounters, where nothing is
visible to human eyes but the ordinary workings of men’s minds and
the natural course of the elements. Thus the simplest sermons, the
most commonplace conversations, the least elevating books, become to
these souls by virtue of the will of God sources of intelligence and
wisdom. Therefore they carefully gather the crumbs of wisdom which
the worldly-wise trample under foot. Everything is precious to them,
everything enriches them; so that, while supremely indifferent to all
things, they neglect or despise nothing, drawing profit from all.
When we behold God in all things, and use them by His order, it is not
using creatures, but enjoying the divine action which transmits its
gifts through these different channels. They are not of themselves
sanctifying, but only as instruments of the divine action which
can and frequently does communicate its graces to simple souls by
means apparently contrary to the end proposed. Yes, divine grace
can enlighten with clay as with the most subtle material, and its
instrument is always efficacious. All things are alike to it. Faith
never feels any need; she complains not of the lack of means apparently
necessary to her advancement, for the divine Workman for whom she
labors supplies all deficiencies by His will. This holy will is the
whole virtue of all creatures.
_CHAPTER III._
The Afflictions with which God visits the Soul are but Loving
Artifices at which she will One Day rejoice.
Souls who walk in light sing canticles of joy; those who walk amid
shadows sing anthems of woe. Let one and the other sing to the end the
portion and anthem God assigns them. We must add nothing to what He has
completed. There must flow every drop of this gall of divine bitterness
with which He wills to inebriate them. Behold Jeremias and Ezechiel:
theirs was the language of sighs and lamentations, and their only
consolation was in the continuation of their lament. He who would have
dried their tears would have deprived us of the most beautiful portions
of the Holy Scriptures. The spirit that afflicts is the only one which
can console. The streams of sorrow and consolation flow from the same
source.
When God astonishes a soul she must needs tremble; when He menaces, she
cannot but fear. We have but to leave the divine operation to its own
development; it bears within itself the remedy as well as the trial.
Weep, dear souls; tremble, suffer disquiet and anguish; make no effort
to escape these divine terrors, these heavenly lamentations. Receive
into the depth of your being the waters of that sea of bitterness which
inundated the soul of Christ. Continue to sow in tears at the will
of divine grace, and insensibly by the same will their source shall
be dried. The clouds will dissolve, the sun will shed its light, the
springtime will strew your path with flowers, and your self-abandonment
will manifest to you the whole extent of the admirable variety of the
divine action.
Truly, man disquiets himself in vain! All that passes within him
is like a dream. One shadow follows and effaces another, just as
the fancies of sleep succeed one another, some troubling, others
delighting, the mind. Man is the sport of these imaginations which
consume one another, and the grand awakening will show the equal
emptiness of them all. It will dissipate all illusions, and he will no
longer heed the perils or fortunes of this dream called life.
Lord, can it not be said that Thy children sleep in Thy bosom during
all the night of faith, while at Thy pleasure Thou fillest their souls
with an infinite number and infinite variety of experiences which are
in reality but holy and mysterious reveries? In this obscure night of
the soul they are filled with veritable and awful terrors, with anguish
and weariness which on the glorious day Thou wilt change into true and
solid joys.
At their awakening, holy souls, restored to a clearer vision and
fuller consciousness, will never weary admiring the skill, the art,
the invention, the loving artifices of the Bridegroom. They will
comprehend how impenetrable are His ways, how surpassing comprehension
are His devices, how beyond discovery His disguises, how impossible
consolation when He willed that they should mourn. On the day of
this awakening the Jeremias and the Davids will see that that which
wrought their bitterest pain was subject of rejoicing to God and the
angels. Wake not the spouse, worldly-wise, industrious minds filled
with self-activity; leave her to sigh and tremblingly seek for the
Bridegroom. True, He eludes her, and disguises Himself; she sleeps, and
her griefs are but as the phantoms which come with night and sleep.
But disturb her not; let the Bridegroom work upon this cherished soul
and depict in her what He alone can paint or express. Leave Him to
develop the result of this state. He will awake her when it is time.
Joseph causes Benjamin to weep; servants of Joseph, reveal not his
secret to this cherished brother! The artifice of Joseph is beyond the
penetration of Benjamin. He and his poor brothers are plunged in grief;
they see naught in the loving artifice of Joseph but irremediable
suffering. Enlighten them not: He will remedy all; He will reveal
himself to them, and they will admire the wisdom of Him who out of so
much woe and desolation wrought the truest joy they have ever known.
_CHAPTER IV._
The more God seems to take from a Soul wholly abandoned to Him, the
more Generous He is to her.
But let us go on in the study of the divine action and its loving
artifices. What the divine action seems to take from a good will
it gives in _disguise_, so to speak. It never leaves a good will
in need. For example, if we relieved the necessities of a friend
with generous gifts, allowing him to know they came from us, but
later, in his interest making a feint of withholding our gifts while
continuing to secretly assist him, the friend, not suspecting the ruse
or comprehending the kindly artifice, is grieved and hurt. Bitter
reflections and unkind thoughts of his benefactor torment him. But when
the loving ruse is revealed to him, imagine the joy, the confusion,
the love, the shame, the gratitude, which overwhelm him! And are not
his zeal and love for his benefactor greater henceforth? And has not
the trial only strengthened his love and made it proof against any
similar misunderstandings in the future?
The application is simple. The more we seem to lose with God, the
more we really gain; the more He deprives us of natural aid, the more
He gives us of supernatural. We loved Him a little for His gifts,
but these being no longer visible we come to love Him for Himself.
It is by the apparent withdrawal of these sensible gifts and favors
that He prepares us for Himself, the greatest of all gifts. The souls
once wholly submissive to the divine action should always interpret
all things favorably--yes, were it the loss of the most excellent of
directors, were it the distrust which they feel in spite of themselves
for those who too readily offer to fill his place; for usually the
guides who of themselves seek the direction of souls merit a little
distrust. Those who are truly animated by the Spirit of God are not
ordinarily so impetuous or self-confident: they are sought, they do not
offer themselves, and never cease to distrust themselves.
Let the soul that has wholly given herself to God walk fearlessly
through all these trials, letting none of them deprive her of
her liberty. Provided she be faithful to the divine action, this
all-powerful action will work wonders in her despite all obstacles.
God and the soul are engaged in the same work, the success of which,
though depending entirely on the action of the divine Workman, may
nevertheless be compromised by the infidelity of the soul.
When it is well with the soul, all goes well; for that which is of
God--that is, His part and action--are, so to speak, the rebound of
the soul’s fidelity. It is the right side of the work which, like
those famous tapestries, are done stitch by stitch on the wrong side.
The workman engaged thereon sees but his needle and the canvas, every
little hole of which is successively filled, forming a beautiful design
which is only visible however, when every detail is completed, and the
right side is held up to view, but during the process of the work all
its beauty and its marvels were unseen.
And thus it is with the self-abandoned soul: it sees only God and its
duty. The fulfilment of the duty of each moment is but the addition
of an imperceptible point, and yet it is by means of these apparent
trifles that God effects His wonders. We are given a presentment of
these wonders at times here below, but we shall only understand them
in the light of eternity. How full of wisdom and goodness are the ways
of God! He has made all that is great, elevating and ennobling so
completely the work of His grace and action, leaving to the soul what
is easy and simple to be accomplished with the aid of grace, that there
is no one who cannot attain eminent sanctity by the loving fulfilment
of obscure and humble duties.
_CHAPTER V._
The less Capable the Faithful Soul is of defending Herself, the more
Powerfully does God defend Her.
The supreme and infallible work of the divine action is always
opportunely applied to the simple soul, and she in all things wisely
corresponds to its intimate direction. She accepts all that comes
to her, all that transpires, all that she feels--all, all save sin;
sometimes consciously, sometimes unconsciously, being impelled, not by
any reason, but by an indistinct impulse, to speak, to act, or not to
act.
Frequently the occasion and the reason which determine her course are
merely of the natural order; the simple soul sees no mystery therein,
but pure chance, necessity, conventionality; it is nothing in her eyes
or those of others: and yet the divine action, which is the wisdom, the
counsel, the knowledge of its friends, causes these simple things to
work their good. It appropriates them and turns them so energetically
against the schemes of the faithful soul’s enemies, that it is
impossible for them to injure her.
The divine action frees the soul from the petty anxious schemes so
necessary to human prudence. Such precautions are suitable for Herod
and the Pharisees: but the Magi have but to follow their star in peace;
the Babe has but to rest in His Mother’s arms; His enemies advance
His cause more than they injure it; the more they seek to thwart and
overwhelm it, the more peacefully and freely He advances. He will not
court or temporize with them to turn their attacks from Him; their
jealousies, their distrust, their persecutions, are necessary to Him.
Thus lived Jesus in Judea; and He still lives after this manner in
simple souls, where He is generous, gentle, free, peaceful; fearing
and needing no creature, but beholding them all in the hands of His
Father; eager to turn them to His service, some through their criminal
passions, others through their good actions, others through their
obedience and submission.
The divine action marvellously adjusts all these things: there is
neither too little nor too much; no more good and evil than needful.
The order of God sends each moment the appropriate instrument for its
work; and the simple soul enlightened by faith finds all things good,
desiring neither more nor less than she possesses. At all times she
blesses the divine Hand which so carefully supplies her needs and
frees her from obstacles; she receives friends and foes with equal
sweetness, for it is the way of Jesus to treat the whole world as a
divine instrument. We want for none, and yet we have need of all; the
divine action renders all necessary, and we must receive all from
it, accepting each thing according to its nature and quality, and
corresponding thereto with sweetness and humility, treating the simple
with simplicity, the ungentle with gentleness, after the teaching of
St. Paul and the more beautiful practice of the divine Master.
Divine grace alone can imprint that supernatural character which adapts
itself so marvellously to each individual nature. It is not learned
from books; it is a true spirit of prophecy, and the effect of intimate
revelation; it is the teaching of the Holy Spirit. To conceive it one
must have attained the highest degree of self-abandonment and the
most perfect detachment from all plans and interests, however holy
they may be. We must keep before our eyes the one important thing in
this world, viz., the passive abandonment to the divine action which
is required of us in order to devote ourselves to the duties of our
state, leaving the Holy Spirit to operate interiorly, indifferent as
to what He operates upon, even happy not to know it. Then, then we are
safe; for all the events of the world can only work the good of souls
perfectly submissive to the divine will of God.
_CHAPTER VI._
The Soul abandoned to the Will of God, so far from resisting her
Enemies, finds in them Useful Auxiliaries.
I fear my own action and that of my friends more than I do my enemies.
There is no prudence equal to that of offering no resistance to one’s
enemies but that of simple abandonment to the will of God; nothing
which so fully insures our peace; it is rowing with the tide, sailing
with a wind which swiftly brings us into port. There is nothing
better than simplicity with which to meet the prudence of this world;
it skilfully, though unconsciously, evades its snares without even
thinking of them.
Dealing with a simple soul is, in a measure, dealing with God. Who
can cope with the Almighty, whose ways are inscrutable? God espouses
the cause of the simple soul; she has no need to study the intrigues
of her enemies, to meet their activity with equal alertness, watching
all their movements: her Spouse relieves her of all this; she confides
all to Him, and then rests on His breast in peace and security. The
divine action inspires her with measures so just that they who sought
to surprise her are themselves surprised. She benefits by all their
efforts, and rises by the very means with which they sought to abase
her. All contradictions turn to her good; and by leaving her enemies
to work their will she draws so great and continual profit from them
that all she need fear is that she may interfere in a work in which
God wills to be the chief actor, using her enemies as His instruments,
and in which the soul has no other part than to peacefully watch the
working of the divine will and follow its guidance with simplicity.
The supernatural prudence of the divine Spirit, the principle of these
attractions, unerringly seizes the end and intimate relations of each
event, and, all unknown to the soul, so disposes them for her spiritual
welfare that all which opposes itself thereto must inevitably be
destroyed.
_CHAPTER VII._
The Soul who abandons Herself to God has no Need to justify Herself by
Words or Actions: the Divine Action justifies Her.
The broad, solid, firm rock upon which the faithful soul stands
sheltered from tides and storms is the order of the divine will, which
is ever present with us, veiled under crosses or the most ordinary
duties. Behind these shadows is hidden God’s Hand, which sustains and
upholds those who abandon themselves to Him.
The moment the soul is firmly established in this perfect
self-abandonment she is henceforth safe from the contradiction of
tongues, for she ceases to have anything to do or say in her own
defence. Since the work is God’s, from no other source must its
justification be sought. Its consequences and effects will sufficiently
justify it. We have but to leave it to its own development. _Dies diei
eructat verbum._
When we are no longer guided by our own ideas we need not defend
ourselves by words. Our words can only represent our ideas, and where
an absence of ideas is admitted no words are needed. Of what avail are
they? To give a reason for what we do? But we know not this reason;
it is hidden in the principle which animates our actions, and which
impresses us only in a most ineffable manner.
We must therefore leave to the results of our actions the task of
justifying their principle. All is metely sustained in this divine
procession; everything therein has a firm and solid basis, and the
reason for that which precedes is manifest in the result which follows.
It is no longer a life of thought, imagination, multiplied words:
these no longer occupy, nourish, or sustain the soul. She no longer
knows where she walks, or where her path may lie in the future; she
ceases to incite herself with reflections to bear the toils and
fatigues of the route; her strength lies in an intimate conviction of
her own weakness. A way is opened to her feet; she enters and walks
unhesitatingly therein with pure, straightforward, simple faith;
she follows the straight path of the commandments, leaning upon God
Himself, whom she finds at every turn of the way; and this God, the
sole object of her life, will take her justification upon Himself, and
so manifest His presence that she will be avenged of her detractors.
_CHAPTER VIII._
God gives Life to the Soul abandoned to Him by Means which apparently
lead only to Death.