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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 witha man who has received Thee?
Eternal Wisdom.--As long as the image and likeness of the
Sacrament
remain.
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