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Let us now come to imaginary visions, in which the
devil is said to interfere more frequently than in
those already described. This may well be the case;
but when they come from Our Lord they seem to me in
some ways more profitable because they are in closer
conformity with our nature, except for those which
the Lord bestows in the final Mansion, and with which
no others can compare.
Let us now imagine, as I said in the last chapter,
that this Lord is here. It is as if in a gold
reliquary there were hidden a precious stone of the
highest value and the choicest virtues: although we
have never seen the stone, we know for certain that
it is there and if we carry it about with us we can
have the benefit of its virtues. We do not prize it
any the less for not having seen it, because we have
found by experience that it has cured us of certain
illnesses for which it is a sovereign remedy. But we
dare not look at it, or open the reliquary in which
it is contained, nor are we able to do so; for only
the owner of the jewel knows how to open it, and
though he has lent it to us so that we may benefit by
it, he has kept the key and so it is still his own.
He will open it when he wants to show it to us and he
will take it back when he sees fit to do so. And that
is what God does, too.
And now let us suppose that on some occasion the
owner of the reliquary suddenly wants to open it, for
the benefit of the person to whom he has lent it.
Obviously this person will get much greater pleasure
from it if he can recall the wonderful brilliance of
the stone, and it will remain the more deeply
engraven upon his memory. This is what happens here.
When Our Lord is pleased to bestow greater
consolations upon this soul, He grants it, in
whatever way He thinks best, a clear revelation of
His sacred Humanity, either as He was when He lived
in the world, or as He was after His resurrection;
and although He does this so quickly that we might
liken the action to a flash of lightning, this most
glorious image is so deeply engraven upon the
imagination that I do not believe it can possibly
disappear until it is where it can be enjoyed to all
eternity.
I speak of an "image", but it must not be supposed
that one looks at it as at a painting; it is really
alive, and sometimes even speaks to the soul and
shows it things both great and secret. But you must
realize that, although the soul sees this for a
certain length of time, it can no more be gazing at
it all the time than it could keep gazing at the sun.
So the vision passes very quickly, though this is not
because its brilliance hurts the interior sight --
that is, the medium by which all such things are seen
-- as the brilliance of the sun hurts the eyes. When
it is a question of exterior sight, I can say nothing
about it, for the person I have mentioned, and of
whom I can best speak, had not experienced this; and
reason can testify only inadequately to things of
which it has no experience.
The brilliance of this vision is like that of
infused light or of a sun covered with some material
of the transparency of a diamond, if such a thing
could be woven. This raiment looks like the finest
cambric. Almost invariably the soul on which God
bestows this favour remains in rapture, because its
unworthiness cannot endure so terrible a sight.
I say "terrible", because, though the sight is the
loveliest and most delightful imaginable, even by a
person who lived and strove to imagine it for a
thousand years, because it so far exceeds all that
our imagination and understanding can compass, its
presence is of such exceeding majesty that it fills
the soul with a great terror. It is unnecessary to
ask here how, without being told, the soul knows Who
it is, for He reveals Himself quite clearly as the
Lord of Heaven and earth. This the kings of the earth
never do: indeed, they would be thought very little
of for what they are, but that they are accompanied
by their suites, or heralds proclaim them.
O, Lord, how little do we Christians know Thee! What
will that day be like when Thou comest to judge us?
If when Thou comest here in such a friendly way to
hold converse with Thy bride the sight of Thee causes
us such fear, what will it be, O daughters, when with
that stern voice He says: "Depart, accursed of My
Father"![50]
Let us keep that in mind when we remember this favour
which God grants to the soul, and we shall find it of
no small advantage to us. Even Saint Jerome, holy man
though he was, did not banish it from his memory. If
we do that we shall care nothing for all we have
suffered through keeping strictly to the observances
of our Order, for, however long this may take us, the
time will be but short by comparison with eternity.
I can tell you truly that, wicked as I am, I have
never feared the torments of hell, for they seem
nothing by comparison with the thought of the wrath
which the damned will see in the Lord's eyes -- those
eyes so lovely and tender and benign. I do not think
my heart could bear to see that; and I have felt like
this all my life. How much more will anyone fear this
to whom He has thus revealed Himself, and given such
a consciousness of His presence as will produce
unconsciousness![51] It must be for this reason that
the soul remains in suspension; the Lord helps it in
its weakness so that this may be united with His
greatness in this sublime communion with God.
When the soul is able to remain for a long time
looking upon the Lord, I do not think it can be a
vision at all. It must rather be that some striking
idea creates a picture in the imagination: but this
will be a dead image by comparison with the other.
Some persons -- and I know this is the truth, for
they have discussed it with me; and not just three or
four of them, but a great many -- find that their
imagination is so weak, or their understanding is so
nimble, or for some other reason their imagination
becomes so absorbed, that they think they can
actually see everything that is in their mind. If
they had ever seen a true vision they would realize
their error beyond the possibility of doubt. Little
by little they build up the picture which they see
with their imagination, but this produces no effect
upon them and they remain cold -- much more so than
they are after seeing a sacred image. No attention,
of course, should be paid to such a thing, which will
be forgotten much more quickly than a dream.
The experience we are discussing here is quite
different. The soul is very far from expecting to see
anything and the thought of such a thing has never
even passed through its mind. All of a sudden the
whole vision is revealed to it and all its faculties
and senses are thrown into the direst fear and
confusion, and then sink into that blessed state of
peace. It is just as when Saint Paul was thrown to
the ground and there came that storm and tumult in
the sky, just so, in this interior world, there is a
great commotion; and then all at once, as I have
said, everything grows calm, and the soul, completely
instructed in such great truths, has no need of
another master.
True wisdom, without any effort on its own part,
has overcome its stupidity and for a certain space of
time it enjoys the complete certainty that this
favour comes from God. However often it may be told
that this is not so it cannot be induced to fear that
it may have been mistaken. Later, when the confessor
insinuates this fear, God allows the soul to begin to
hesitate as to whether He could possibly grant this
favour to such a sinner. But that is all; for, as I
have said in these other cases, in speaking of
temptations in matters of faith, the devil can
disturb the soul, but he cannot shake the firmness of
its belief.
On the contrary, the more fiercely he attacks it,
the more certain it becomes that he could never endow
it with so many blessings -- which is actually true,
for over the interior of the soul he wields less
power. He may be able to reveal something to it, but
not with the same truth and majesty, nor can he
produce the same results.
As confessors cannot see all this for themselves, and
a soul to whom God has granted such a favour may be
unable to describe it, they have misgivings about it,
and quite justifiably. So they have to proceed
cautiously, and even to wait for some time to see
what results these apparitions produce, and to
observe gradually how much humility they leave in the
soul and to what extent it is strengthened in virtue;
if they come from the devil there will soon be signs
of the fact, for he will be caught out in a thousand
lies.
If the confessor is experienced, and has himself
been granted such visions, it will not be long before
he is able to form a judgment, for the account which
the soul gives will at once show him whether they
proceed from God or from the imagination or from the
devil, especially if His Majesty has granted him the
gift of discerning spirits. If he has this and is a
learned man, he will be able to form an opinion
perfectly well, even though he may be without
experience.
The really essential thing, sisters, is that you
should speak to your confessor very plainly and
candidly -- I do not mean here in confessing your
sins, for of course you will do so then, but in
describing your experiences in prayer. For unless you
do this, I cannot assure you that you are proceeding
as you should or that it is God Who is teaching you.
God is very anxious for us to speak candidly and
clearly to those who are in His place, and to desire
them to be acquainted with all our thoughts, and
still more with our actions, however trivial these
may be. If you do this, you need not be disturbed, or
worried, for, even if these things be not of God,
they will do you no harm if you are humble and have a
good conscience. His Majesty is able to bring good
out of evil and you will gain by following the road
by which the devil hoped to bring you to destruction.
For, as you will suppose that it is God Who is
granting you these great favours, you will strive to
please Him better and keep His image ever in your
mind.
A very learned man used to say that the devil is a
skilful painter, and that, if he were to show him an
absolutely lifelike image of the Lord, it would not
worry him, because it would quicken his devotion, and
so he would be using the devil's own wicked weapons
to make war on him. However evil the painter be, one
cannot fail to reverence the picture that he paints,
if it is of Him Who is our only Good.
This learned man thought that the counsel, given by
some people, to treat any vision of this kind with
scorn,[52] was very wrong: we must reverence a
painting of our King, he said, wherever we see it. I
think he is right; even on a worldly plane we should
feel that. If a person who had a great friend knew
that insulting things were being said about his
portrait he would not be pleased. How much more
incumbent upon us is it, then, always to be
respectful when we see a crucifix or any kind of
portrait of our Emperor!
Although I have written this elsewhere, I have been
glad to set it down here, for I knew someone who was
in great distress because she had been ordered to
adopt this derisive remedy. I do not know who can
have invented such advice, for, if it came from her
confessor, it would have been a torture to her: she
would be bound to obey him, and would have thought
herself a lost soul unless she had done so. My own
advice is that, if you are given such counsel, you
should not accept it and should with all humility put
forward this argument that I have given you. I was
extremely struck by the good reasons against the
practice alleged by the person who advised me in this
case.
The soul derives great profit from this favour
bestowed by the Lord, for thinking upon Him or upon
His life and Passion recalls His most meek and lovely
face, which is the greatest comfort, just as in the
earthly sphere we get much more comfort from seeing a
person who is a great help to us than if we had never
known him. I assure you that such a delectable
remembrance gives the greatest help and comfort. It
also brings many other blessings with it, but as so
much has been said about the effects caused by these
things, and there is more still to come, I will not
fatigue myself or you by adding more just now. I will
only warn you that, when you learn or hear that God
is granting souls these graces, you must never
beseech or desire Him to lead you along this road.
Even if you think it a very good one, and to be
greatly prized and reverenced, there are certain
reasons why such a course is not wise.
The first reason is that it shows a lack of
humility to ask to be given what you have never
deserved, so I think anyone who asks for this cannot
be very humble. A peasant of lowly birth would never
dream of wishing to be a king; such a thing seems to
him impossible because he does not merit it. Anyone
who is humble feels just the same about these other
things. I think they will never be bestowed on a
person devoid of humility, because before the Lord
grants a soul these favours He always gives it a high
degree of self-knowledge. And how could one who has
such ambitions realize that He is doing him a great
favour in not casting him into hell?
The second reason is that such a person is
quite certain to be deceived, or to be in great
peril, because the devil has only to see a door left
slightly ajar to enter and play a thousand tricks on
us.
The third reason is to be found in the
imagination. When a person has a great desire for
something, he persuades himself that he is seeing or
hearing what he desires, just as those who go about
desiring something all day think so much about it
that after a time they begin to dream of it.
The fourth reason is that it is very
presumptuous in me to wish to choose my path, because
I cannot tell which path is best for me. I must leave
it to the Lord, Who knows me, to lead me by the path
which is best for me, so that in all things His will
may be done.
In the fifth place, do you suppose that the
trials suffered by those to whom the Lord grants
these favours are light ones? No, they are very
heavy, and of many kinds. How do you know if you
would be able to bear them?
In the sixth place, you may well find that the
very thing from which you had expected gain will
bring you loss, just as Saul only lost by becoming a
king.
And besides these reasons, sisters, there are others.
Believe me, the safest thing is to will only what God
wills, for He knows us better than we know ourselves,
and He loves us.
Let us place ourselves in His hands so that His
will may be done in us; if we cling firmly to this
maxim and our wills are resolute we cannot possibly
go astray. And you must note that you will merit no
more glory for having received many of these favours;
on the contrary, the fact that you are receiving more
imposes on you greater obligations to serve. The Lord
does not deprive us of anything which adds to our
merit, for this remains in our own power. There are
many saintly people who have never known what it is
to receive a favour of this kind, and there are
others who receive a favour of this kind, and there
are others who received such favours, although they
are not saintly. Do not suppose, again, that they
occur continually. Each occasion on which the Lord
grants them brings with it a great many trials; and
thus the soul does not think about receiving more,
but only about how to put those it receives to a good
use.
It is true that to have these favours must be the
greatest help towards attaining a high degree of
perfection in the virtues; but anyone who has
attained the virtues at the cost of his own toil has
earned much more merit. I know of a person to whom
the Lord had granted some of these favours -- of two
indeed; one was a man. Both were desirous of serving
His Majesty, at their own cost, and without being
given any of these great consolations; and they were
so anxious to suffer that they complained to Our Lord
because He bestowed favours on them, which, had it
been possible, they would have excused themselves
from receiving. I am speaking here, not of these
visions, which bring us great gain, and are very much
to be prized, but of consolations which the Lord
gives in contemplation.
It is true that, in my opinion, these desires are
supernatural, and come from souls fired with love,
who would like the Lord to see that they are not
serving Him for pay; for which reason, as I have
said, they never spur themselves to greater efforts
in God's service by thinking of the glory which they
will receive for anything they do; rather do they
serve Him for the satisfaction of their love, for the
nature of love invariably finds expression in work of
a thousand kinds. If it were able, the soul would
invent methods by which to be come consumed in Him,
and if, for the greater honour of God, it were
necessary that it should remain annihilated for ever,
it would agree to this very willingly. May He be for
ever praised Who is pleased to show forth His
greatness by stooping to commune with such miserable
creatures. Amen.
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