CHAPTER XXIII. How We Ought Lovingly To Receive God
The Servant.--Eternal Wisdom, if my
soul could only penetrate the heavenly shrine of Thy divine mysteries, I would
question Thee further about love. And this would be my question: Lord, Thou
hast so entirely poured out the abyss of Thy divine love in Thy Passion, that I
wonder if Thou canst show any more signs of Thy love?
Eternal Wisdom.--Yes. Even as the stars of
heaven are countless, so the love-tokens of My unfathomable love are
uncounted.
The Servant.--Ah, sweet Love of mine! ah,
tender Lord elect! how my soul languishes for Thy love! Turn Thy mild
countenance towards me, outcast creature that I am; see how everything vanishes
and passes away in me except only the one treasure of Thy ardent love, and
therefore tell me something further of this rich and hidden treasure. Lord,
Thou knowest well that it is love's right never to be satisfied with what
concerns the Beloved; that the more it has the more it desires, how unworthy
soever it may acknowledge itself to be, for such is the effect of the
omnipotent power of love. O, beautiful Wisdom, now tell me the greatest and
dearest mark of Thy love that in Thy adopted human nature Thou didst ever
manifest, without taking into account the unfathomable love-token of Thy bitter
death.
Eternal Wisdom.--Answer Me now a question.
What is that of all lovely things which is most agreeable to a loving heart?
The Servant.--Lord, to my understanding
nothing is so agreeable to a loving heart as the beloved Himself and His sweet
presence.
Eternal Wisdom.--Even so. See, and on this
account, that nothing which belongs to true love might be wanting to those who
love Me, did My unfathomable love, as soon as I had resolved to depart by death
out of this world to My Father, compel Me to give Myself and My loving presence
at the table of the last supper to My dear disciples, and in all future times
to My elect, because I knew beforehand the misery which many a languishing
heart would suffer for My sake.
The Servant.--Oh, dearest Lord, and art
Thou Thyself, Thy very Self, really here?
Eternal Wisdom.--Thou hast Me in the
sacrament, before thee and with thee, as truly and really God and Man,
according to soul and body, with flesh and blood, as truly as My pure Mother
carried Me in her arms, and as truly as I am in heaven in My perfect glory.
The Servant.--Ah, gentle Wisdom, there is
yet something in My heart, may I be allowed to utter it to Thee? Lord, it does
not proceed from unbelief, I believe that what Thou willest Thou canst do; but,
tender Lord, it is a marvel to me (if I may venture to say so) how the
beautiful, the delightful and glorified body of my Lord in all its greatness,
in all its divinity, can thus essentially conceal itself under the little shape
of the bread which, relatively considered, is so out of all relation. Gentle
Lord, be nor angry with me on this account, for, as Thou art my Wisdom elect, I
should be glad by Thy favour to hear something on this head out of Thy sweet
mouth.
Eternal Wisdom.--In what manner My
glorified body and My soul, according to the whole truth, are in the Sacrament,
this can no tongue express, nor any mind conceive, for it is a work of My
omnipotence. Therefore oughtest thou to believe it in all simplicity, and not
pry much into it. And yet I must say a little to thee about it. I will thrust
this wonder aside for thee with another wonder. Tell Me how it can be in nature
that a great house should shape itself in a small mirror, or in every fragment
of a mirror, when the mirror is broken? Or, how can this be, that the vast
heavens should compress themselves into so small a space as thy small eye, the
two being so very unequal to each other in greatness?
The Servant.--Truly, Lord, I cannot tell,
it is a strange thing, for my eye is to the heavens but as a small point.
Eternal Wisdom.--Behold, though neither
thy eye nor anything else in nature is equal to the heavens, yet nature can do
this thing, why should not I, the Lord of nature, be able to do many more
things above nature? But now, tell me further, is it not just as great a
miracle to create heaven and earth, and all creatures out of nothing, as to
change bread invisibly into My body?
The Servant.--Lord, it is just as possible
for Thee, so far as I can understand, to change something into something, as to
create something out of nothing.
Eternal Wisdom.--Dost thou wonder then at
that, and not at this? Tell Me further, thou believest that I fed five thousand
persons with five loaves, where was the hidden matter which obeyed My words?
The Servant.--Lord, I know not.
Eternal Wisdom.--Or dost thou believe thou
hast a soul?
The Servant.--This I do not believe,
because I know it, for otherwise I should not be alive.
Eternal Wisdom.--And yet thou canst not
see thy soul with thy bodily eyes.
The Servant.--Lord, I know that there are
many more beings invisible to human eyes than such as we can see.
Eternal Wisdom.--Now listen: many a person
there is of senses so gross as hardly to believe that anything which he cannot
perceive with his senses really exists, concerning which the learned know that
it is false. In like manner does the human understanding stand related to
divine knowledge. Had I asked thee how the portals of the abyss are
constructed, or how the waters in the firmament are held together, thou wouldst
perhaps have answered thus: It is a question too deep for me, I cannot go into
it: I never descended into the abyss, nor ever mounted up to the firmament.
Well, I have only asked thee about earthly things which thou seest and hearest,
and understandest not. Why shouldst thou wish, then, to understand what
surpasses all the earth, all the heavens, and all the senses? Or why wilt thou
needs inquire into it? Behold, all such wondering and prying thoughts proceed
alone from grossness of sense, which takes divine and supernatural things after
the likeness of things earthly and natural, and such is not the case. If a
woman were to give birth to a child in a dark tower, and it were to be brought
up there, and its mother were to tell it of the sun and the stars, the child
would marvel greatly, and would think it all against reason and incredible,
which its mother, nevertheless, knows so well to be true.
The Servant.--Indeed, Lord, I have nothing
more to say, for Thou hast so enlightened my faith that I ought to think of
marvelling in my heart again, or why should I seek to enquire into the highest,
who cannot comprehend the lowest? Thou art the truth which cannot lie; Thou art
the highest wisdom that can do all things; Thou art the omnipotent who can
dispose of all things. Oh, noble and loving Lord, I have often desired in my
heart that, like holy Simeon in the temple, I might have received Thee bodily
in my arms, might have pressed Thee to my heart and soul, so that the spiritual
kiss of Thy presence might have been as truly mine as it was his. But now,
Lord, I see that I receive Thee as truly as he, and so much the more nobly as
Thy tender body is now glorified, and impassible, which then was passible.
Wherefore, dearest Lord, if my heart had the love of all hearts, my conscience
the purity of all the angels, and my soul the beauty of all souls so that by
Thy grace I should be worthy of Thee, I would fain receive Thee today so
affectionately, and so bury and sink Thee in the bottom of my heart and soul,
that neither joy nor sorrow, neither life nor death, could separate Thee from
me. Ah, sweet Lord, hadst Thou, my chosen love, only sent me Thy messenger, I
should not have known, for all this world, how I ought to offer him a
sufficient welcome. How then ought I to behave myself towards Him whom my soul
loveth? Truly art Thou the only one thing in which everything is included,
that, in time and eternity, my heart can desire. Or is there any thing else
that my soul can desire of that which is contrary to Thee, or which is without
Thee, for that would be repugnant to me. Truly art Thou the comeliest of all to
the eyes, the sweetest of all to the mouth, the tenderest of all to the touch,
the most beloved of all to the heart! Lord, my soul neither sees nor hears, nor
feels aught of all that is here below, but she finds it severally a thousand
times lovelier in Thee my chosen love. Ah, Eternal Lord, how am I to restrain
myself in Thy regard from wonder and delight? Thy presence inflames me, but Thy
greatness terrifies me. My reason will needs do honour to its Lord, but my
heart desires to love its only good, and lovingly to embrace it. Thou art my
Lord and my God, but Thou art also my Brother, and, if I may venture to say so,
my beloved Spouse. Oh, what love, what rapture, and what great joy, what
dignity do I not possess in Thee alone! Ah, sweet Lord, methinks that had I
only been vouchsafed the grace to receive out of Thy open wounds, from Thy
heart, one single drop of blood into my mouth, if I could have had my desire,
it would have given me the fullness of joy. Ah, heartfelt, inconceivable
wonder, now I have not only received one or two drops, but I have received all
Thy hot, rose-coloured blood through my mouth into my heart and soul. Is not
this a great thing? Ought I not to appreciate this which to the exalted angels
is precious? Lord, would that all my limbs, and all that I am, were transformed
into an unfathomable love for the sake of this sign of Thy love. Lord, what is
there else in all this world that could rejoice my heart, or that it could
desire, when Thou givest Thyself thus cordially to me to enjoy and love! Truly
is it called a SACRAMENT OF LOVE. When was there anything lovelier seen or
heard of than to embrace love itself; than to be changed by grace into love
itself? Lord, I see no difference except that Simeon received Thee visibly, and
I receive Thee invisibly. But as little as my bodily eyes can see Thy true
humanity, just as little could his bodily eyes contemplate Thy divinity, except
through faith, as I do now. Lord, what new power is lodged in this bodily
sight? He whose spiritual eyes are opened, has not much to see with his bodily
eyes, for the eyes of the spirit see far more really and truly. Lord, I know by
faith, so far as one can know it, that I have Thee here; what do I wish for
more? Lord, it is a thousand times better for me that I am unable to see Thee;
how could I ever have the heart thus visibly to partake of Thee! As it is, that
which is lovely and delightful remains, while that which is inhuman falls away.
Lord, when I truly reflect how inscrutably well, how lovingly and wisely Thou
hast regulated all things, my heart with a loud voice, exclaims: Oh, the great
treasure of the abyss of Divine Wisdom, what must Thou not be in Thyself, if
Thou art so much in Thy fair emanations! Now, O glorious Lord, look at the
great and sincere desire of my heart. Lord, never was king or emperor so
worthily received, never dear strange guest so cordially embraced, never bride
so beautifully and tenderly taken home, nor so honourably maintained, as my
soul desires to receive Thee, my most honoured emperor, my soul's most lovely
Bridegroom, this day, and to introduce Thee to the innermost and the very best
that my heart and soul are able to afford, and to offer it Thee as worthily as
ever it was offered Thee by any creature. Wherefore, Lord, teach me how I
should behave myself towards Thee, how, with due honour and love, I should
receive Thee.
Eternal Wisdom.--Thou shouldst receive Me
worthily, thou shouldst partake of Me with humility, thou shouldst keep Me
earnestly, thou shouldst embrace Me with conjugal love, and have Me in My godly
dignity before thy eyes. Spiritual hunger and actual devotion must impel thee
to Me more than custom. The soul that wishes to feel Me interiorly in the
recesses of a secluded life, and sweetly to enjoy Me, must, first of all, be
cleansed from sin, must be adorned with virtue, encircled with self-denial,
decked out with the red roses of ardent love, strewn over with the fair violets
of humble submission, and the white lilies of perfect purity. She should pray
to Me with peace of heart, for in peace is My dwelling-place. She should clasp
Me in her arms to the exclusion of all strange affections; for these I avoid,
and flee as the free bird avoids and flees the cage. She should sing Me the
song of Sion, which is a song of fervent, loving, and measureless praise; then
will I embrace her, and she shall incline herself on My breast. There, if she
finds a calm repose, a pure vision, unusual fruition, a foretaste of eternal
bliss, let her preserve it, let her keep it for herself, and, with a sighing
heart, let her speak as follows: Truly art thou the hidden God, the secret good
which no one can know that has not felt it.
The Servant.--Alas, the great blindness in
which I have hitherto lived! I have plucked the red roses and have not smelt
them; I have wandered among the blooming flowers and have not seen them; I have
been as a dry branch amid the fresh dews of May. Never, O never can I
sufficiently repent Thy having been for many a day so near me, and my having
been so far from Thee. O, Thou sweet guest of pure souls, what a sorry welcome
have I hitherto given Thee, what an ill return have I so frequently made Thee!
How little desirous have I not shown myself of the sweet bread of angels! I had
the precious balsam in my mouth, and felt it not. Ah, Thou delight of all
angelic eyes, never as yet did I feel true delight in Thee! If it were
announced to me that a bodily friend would visit me in the morning should I not
rejoice at it all the night before? And yet, never did I prepare myself for the
reception of Thee, as in reason I ought, Thou worthy guest, whom heaven and
earth equally honour. Alas! how have I been wont to turn quickly away from
Thee, how to drive Thee out of Thy own! O Eternal God, Thou even Thou Thyself,
art here so truly present, and the angelic host is here, and yet I have
approached so shyly and sluggishly. Of Thee I will say nothing; but, truly,
Lord, I know of no spot within many miles, whither, if I had known for certain
of the presence of blessed angels, those high and noble guests who at all times
behold Thee, I should not have repaired of my own accord, and even if I had not
seen them, still my heart, on their account, would have leapt in my body for
joy. O sweet Lord and God, that Thou Thyself, the Lord of all angels, shouldst
have been present here, and shouldst have had with Thee so many angelic choirs,
and that I should not have given more heed to the place; this, this must ever
be a sore affliction for me! I ought, at all events, to have approached the
place where I knew Thee to be thus present, even though nothing else might have
come of it. O God, how often have I stood distracted and without devotion on
the very spot where Thou wast before me, and with me in the Blessed Sacrament;
my body indeed stood there, but my heart was elsewhere. How often have I
thought so little of Thee in Thy presence, that my heart has not even offered
Thee an affectionate salutation, with a devout inclination. Gentle Lord, my
eyes ought to have looked at Thee with joyous delight, my heart ought to have
loved Thee with the fullness of desire, my mouth ought to have praised Thee
with heartfelt, fervent jubilee; all my strength ought to have melted in Thy
glad service. What did not Thy servant David do who leapt so joyously with all
his might before the ark, in which there was nothing but corporal bread of
heaven, nothing but corporal things! Lord, now do I stand here before Thee, and
before all Thy angels, and with bitter tears fall at Thy feet. Remember, O,
remember, tender Lord, that here, before me, Thou art my flesh and my brother,
and forego Thy displeasure. O, forgive me all the dishonour that ever I offered
Thee, for I am sorry for it, and must ever be sorry for it; for the light of
Thy wisdom begins only now to enlighten me; and the place where Thou art, not
only according to Thy divinity, but according to Thy humanity, shall be
honoured by me evermore. Ah, Thou sweetest good, Thou worthy Lord and lovely
guest of my soul, another question would I gladly ask: Tell me, gentle Lord,
what is it Thou givest Thy beloved with Thy real presence in the Sacrament,
provided she receives Thee with love and desire?
Eternal Wisdom.--Is that a fitting
question for a lover? What have I better than Myself? He who possesses the
object of his love, what else has he to ask for? He who gives himself, what has
he refused? I give Myself to thee, and take thee from thyself, and unite thee
to Me. Thou loseth thyself, and art wholly transformed into Me. What does the
sun in his brightest reflection bestow on the unclouded sky? Yes, what does the
bright star of the morning dawn bestow on the dark night? Or what do the fair
and ravishing adornments of summer bestow after the cold, wintry, melancholy
season?
The Servant.--O Lord, they bestow precious
gifts.
Eternal Wisdom.--They seem precious to
thee because they are visible to thee. Behold, the smallest gift that flows
from Me in the Blessed Sacrament reflects more splendour in eternity than any
sunny brightness; it sheds more light than any morning star; it adorns thee
more ravishingly in eternal beauty than ever did any adornment of summer the
earth. Or is not My bright divinity more radiant than any sun, My noble soul
more resplendent than any star, My glorified body more ravishing than any
ravishment of summer? And yet all these things hast thou truly received
here.
The Servant.--O Lord, why then are they
not more sensibly felt? Lord, I often approach in such dryness that all light,
all grace and sweetness are as strange to me, methinks, as to a man born blind,
who never saw the sun. Lord, if I may venture to say so, I could indeed wish
that, in Thy real presence, Thou hadst given testimony of Thyself.
Eternal Wisdom.--The less the testimony,
the purer thy faith and the greater thy reward. The Lord of nature operates
with such secrecy a blessed increase in many a fair tree, that no eye nor other
sense can perceive it till it is accomplished. Now, I am not an exteriorly
working good, but an interiorly shining light; an interiorly working good which
is so much the nobler as it is the more spiritual.
The Servant.--Alas! how few men there are
who perceive this, who weigh thoroughly what they receive. They draw near like
the rest generally, in an ill and inconsiderate manner, and, therefore, as they
go up empty, they come away without grace. They do not ruminate their food so
as to ponder what they have received.
Eternal Wisdom.--To the well prepared I am
the bread of eternal life, to the little prepared the bread of dryness, but to
the unprepared I am a deadly blow, an eternal curse.
The Servant.--O Lord, what a terrible
thing is this! Lord, whom dost Thou call the well prepared, the little
prepared, and the unprepared?
Eternal Wisdom.--The well prepared are the
purified, the little prepared such as cleave to temporal things, but the
unprepared are the sinful who continue by will and by deed in mortal sin.
The Servant.--But, tender Lord, if at the
time a person is heartily sorry for his sins, and strives, to the best of his
ability, to rid himself wholly of them, conformably to Christian precept, how
is it then with him?
Eternal Wisdom.--In such a case a man is,
for the time, no longer in sin.
The Servant.--Lord, in my opinion, it were
one of the greatest things this world could accomplish, if any person, while
living in this temporal state, was able to prepare himself worthily enough for
Thy reception.
Eternal Wisdom.--That person was never yet
born; nay, if a man had the native purity of all the angels, the sanctity of
all the saints, and the good works of all mankind, he would yet be unworthy.
The Servant.--Ah, beloved Lord, with what
trembling hearts ought not persons so unworthy, so deprived of grace, as we
are, to approach Thee.
Eternal Wisdom.--If a man only does his
best, nothing more is required of him, for God completes what is left
incomplete. A sick man should cast aside all reserve, and should approach the
physician whose attendance is his cure.
The Servant.--Lord, beloved Lord, which is
better, OFTEN, or SELDOM, to receive Thee in the Blessed Sacrament?
Eternal Wisdom.--For him whose grace and
devotion perceptibly increase by it, to receive Me often is profitable.
The Servant.-- But, Lord, if a man in his
own opinion remains the same, and cannot prove that he either increases or
decreases by it in holiness, or if he is often visited by spiritual dryness,
how should he then behave himself?
Eternal Wisdom.--A man, provided only he
does his part, should not withdraw himself because of spiritual dryness. For
the salvation of that soul which by God's will suffers from spiritual dryness
is often accomplished as nobly in the light of pure faith alone, as in great
sweetness. I am a boon which, turned to account, increases, but which, saved
up, wastes away. It is better to approach once a week with a deep sense of real
humility, than once a year with an overweening self-approbation.
The Servant.--Lord, at what time does the
influence of grace from the Blessed Sacrament take place?
Eternal Wisdom.--In the very moment of
actual reception.
The Servant.--Lord, but what if a man have
a fervent desire for Thy bodily presence in the Sacrament, and he must yet be
deprived of it?
Eternal Wisdom.--Many a man after being
filled with Me, goes away hungry, and many a man obtains Me, though the table
be empty; the former merely receives Me bodily, the latter enjoys Me
spiritually.
The Servant.--Lord, has that man any
advantage who receives Thee bodily and spiritually, over him who only receives
Thee spiritually?
Eternal Wisdom.--Tell me whether that man
has more who has Me and My grace, or he who has only My grace alone?
The Servant.--Lord, how long dost Thou
remain in Thy real presence with a man who has received Thee?
Eternal Wisdom.--As long as the image and
likeness of the Sacrament remain.