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Besides what I have said, I have found a history
which to sacred lovers is none the less credible for
being wonderful, since, as the holy Apostle says:
Charity willingly believeh all things;(1) that is, it
is not quick to believe that any one is lying, and if
there are no apparent marks of falsehood in things
which are told, it makes no difficulty about
believing them; but above all when they are things
which exalt and magnify the love of God towards men,
or the love of men towards God, for charity, which is
sovereign queen of the virtues, rejoices in the
things which contribute to the glory of its empire
and domination.
And although the account I am about to give is not
so fully published nor so well witnessed as the
greatness of the marvel which it contains would
require, it does not therefore lose its truth; for,
as S. Augustine excellently says, miracles,
magnificent as they may be, are scarcely known in the
very place where they are worked; and even when they
are related by those who have seen them, they are
with difficulty believed, but they do not therefore
cease to be true; and, in matter of religion, good
souls have more sweetness in believing things in
which there is more difficulty and admiration.
Upon a time, then, a very illustrious and virtuous
knight went beyond seas to Palestine, to visit the
holy places in which Our Lord had done the works of
our redemption; and, properly to begin this holy
exercise, before everything he worthily confessed and
communicated. Then he went first to the town of
Nazareth, where the angel announced to the most holy
Virgin the most sacred Incarnation, and where the
most adorable conception of the Eternal Word took
place; and there this good pilgrim set himself to
contemplate the abyss of the heavenly goodness, which
had deigned to take human flesh in order to withdraw
men from perdition.
Thence he passed to Bethlehem, to the place of the
Nativity, and one could not say how many tears there
he shed, contemplating those with which the Son of
God, little infant of the Virgin, had watered that
holy stable, kissing and kissing again a hundred
times that sacred earth, and licking the dust on
which the first infancy of the divine Babe had been
received.
From Bethlehem he went to Bethabara, and passed as
far as the little place of Bethania, when,
remembering that Our Lord had unclothed himself to be
baptized, he also unclothed himself, and entering
into the Jordan, and bathing in it, and drinking of
the waters thereof, it seemed to him as if he saw his
Saviour receiving baptism from the hand of his
precursor, and the Holy Ghost descending upon him in
the form of a dove, with the heavens yet opened,
while from them seemed to him to come the voice of
the Eternal Father, saying: This is my beloved Son in
whom I am well pleased.
From Bethania he goes into the desert, and there
sees with the eyes of his Spirit the Saviour fasting,
and fighting and conquering the enemy, then the
angels ministering to him admirable meats. Thence he
goes up to Mount Thabor, where he sees the Saviour
transfigured, then to Mount Sion, where he seems to
see Our Lord still on his knees in the supper-room,
washing the disciples' feet, and afterwards
distributing to them his divine body in the sacred
Eucharist.
He passes the torrent of Cedron, and goes to the
Garden of Gethsemani, where his heart melts into the
tears of a most loving sorrow, while he there
represents to himself his dear Saviour sweating
blood, in that extreme agony which he suffered there,
to be soon afterwards bound fast with cords and led
into Jerusalem; whither he goes also, following
everywhere the footprints of his beloved, and in
imagination sees him dragged hither and thither, to
Annas, to Caiphas, to Pilate, to Herod, scourged,
blindfolded, spat upon, crowned with thorns,
presented to the people, condemed to death, loaded
with his cross - which he carries, and while carrying
it has the pitiful meeting with his mother all
steeped in grief, and with the daughters of Jerusalem
who weep over him.
He ascends at last, this devout pilgrim, to Mount
Calvary, when he sees in spirit the cross laid upon
the earth, and our Saviour, stript naked, thrown down
and nailed hands and feet upon it, most cruelly. He
contemplates then how they raise the cross and the
Crucified into the air, and the blood which streams
from all parts of this ruined divine body. He regards
the poor sacred Virgin, quite transpierced with the
sword of sorrow; then he turns his eyes on the
crucified Saviour, whose seven words he hears with a
matchless love, and at last he sees him dying, then
dead, then receiving the lance-stroke, and showing by
the opening of the wound his divine heart, then taken
down from the cross and carried to the sepulchre,
whither he follows him, shedding a sea of tears on
the places moistened with the blood of his Redeemer.
And so he enters into the sepulchre and buries his
heart by the body of his divine Master; then, rising
again with him, he goes to Emmaus, and sees all that
passes between the Lord and the two disciples; and at
last returning to Mount Olivet, where the mystery of
the Ascension took place, and there seeing the last
marks and vestiges of the feet of the Divine Saviour,
prostrate upon them, and kissing them a thousand
thousand times, with sighs of an infinite love, he
began to draw up to himself all the forces of his
affections, as an archer draws the string of his bow
when he wishes to shoot his arrow, then rising, his
eyes and his hands turned to heaven: O Jesus! said
he, my sweet Jesus! I know no more where to seek and
follow thee on earth. Ah! Jesus, Jesus, my love,
grant then to this heart that it may follow thee and
go after thee thither above. And with these ardent
words, he at the same moment shot his soul into
heaven, a sacred arrow which as an archer of God he
directed into the central-white of his most blessed
mark.
But his companions and servants who saw this poor
lover fall suddenly thus as if dead, amazed at this
accident, ran instantly for the doctor, who coming
found that he had really passed away: and to make a
safe judgment on the causes of so unexpected a death,
he inquires of what temperament, of what manners, and
of what feelings, the deceased might be; and he
learned that he was of a disposition very sweet, very
amiable, wondrously devout, and most ardent in the
love of God. Whereupon the doctor said: Without
doubt, then, his heart has broken with excess and
fervour of love. And in order the better to confirm
his decision, he would have him opened, and found
that glorious heart open, with this sacred word
engraved within it: Jesus my love!
Love, then, did in this heart the office of death,
separating the soul from the body, no other cause
concurring. And it is S. Bernardine of Siena, a very
wise and very holy doctor, who makes this relation in
the first of his Sermons on the Ascension.
Indeed, another author of nearly the same age, who
has concealed his name out of humility, but who is
worthy to be named, in a book which he has entitled:
Mirror of Spiritual Persons, relates a history even
more admirable. For he says that in the parts of
Provence there was a nobleman entirely devoted to the
love of God and to the devotion of the Most Holy
Sacrament of the Altar. Now one day, being extremely
afflicted with a malady which caused him continual
vomitings, the divine communion was brought him; and
not daring to receive it on account of the danger of
casting it up again, he begged his pastor to apply it
at least to his breast, and with it to make the sign
of the cross over him. This was done, and in a moment
his breast, inflamed with holy love, was cleft, and
drew into itself the heavenly food wherein his
beloved was contained, and at the same instant gave
up its breath.
I see in good truth that this history is
extraordinary, and would deserve a more weighty
testimony: yet after the true history of the cleft
heart of S. Clare of Montefalco, which all the world
may see even to this day, and that of the stigmata of
S. Francis, which is most certain, my soul finds
nothing hard to be believed amongst the effects of
divine love.
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