|
The soul, then, being thus inwardly recollected in
God or before God, now and then becomes so sweetly
attentive to the goodness of her well-beloved, that
her attention seems not to her to be attention, so
purely and delicately is it exercised: as it happens
to certain rivers, which glide so calmly and smoothly
that beholders, and such as float upon them, seem
neither to see nor feel any motion, because the
waters are not seen to ripple or flow at all. And it
is this admirable repose of the soul which the
Blessed Virgin (S.) Teresa of Jesus names prayer of
quiet, not far different from that which she also
calls the sleep of the powers, at least if I
understand her right.
Even human lovers are content, sometimes, with
being near or within sight of the person they love
without speaking to her, and without even distinctly
thinking of her or her perfections, satiated, as it
were, and satisfied to relish this dear presence, not
by any reflection they make upon it, but by a certain
gratification and repose which their spirit takes in
it.
A bundle of myrrh is my beloved to me, he shall,
abide between my breasts. My beloved to me, and I to
him, who feedeth among the lilies, till the day
break, and the shadows retire. Shew me, O thou whom
my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou liest
in the mid-day.(1) Do you see, Theotimus, how the
holy Sulamitess is contented with knowing that her
well-beloved is with her, whether in her bosom, or in
her gardens, or elsewhere, so she know where he is.
And indeed she is the Sulamitess, wholly peaceable,
calm, and at rest.
Now this repose sometimes goes so deep in its
tranquillity, that the whole soul and all its powers
fall as it were asleep, and make no movement nor
action whatever, except the will alone, and even this
does no more than receive the delight and
satisfaction which the presence of the well-beloved
affords. And what is yet more admirable is, that the
will does not even perceive the delight and
contentment which she receives, enjoying it
insensibly, being not mindful of herself but of him
whose presence gives her this pleasure, as happens
frequently when, surprised by a light slumber, we
only hear indistinctly what our friends are saying
around us, or feel their caresses almost
imperceptibly, not feeling that we feel.
However, the soul who in this sweet repose enjoys
this delicate sense of the divine presence, though
she is not conscious of the enjoyment, yet clearly
shows how dear and precious this happiness is unto
her, if one offer to deprive her of it or divert her
from it; for then the poor soul complains, cries out,
yea sometimes weeps, as a little child awakened
before it has taken its full sleep, who, by the
sorrow it feels in being awakened, clearly shows the
content it had in sleeping.
Hereupon the heavenly shepherd adjures the
daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and harts of the
fields, not to make the beloved awake until she
please,(2) that is, to let her awake of herself. No,
Theotimus, a soul thus recollected in her God would
not change her repose for the greatest goods in the
world.
Such, or little different from it, was the quiet
of most holy Magdalen, when sitting at her Master's
feet she heard his holy word. Behold her, I beseech
you, Theotimus; she is in a profound tranquillity,
she says not a word, she weeps not, she sobs not, she
sighs not, she stirs not, she prays not. Martha, full
of business passes and repasses through the hall:
Mary notices her not. And what then is she doing? She
is doing nothing, but only hearkening. And what does
this mean - she hearkens?
It means that she is there as a vessel of honour,
to receive drop by drop the myrrh of sweetness which
the lips of her well-beloved distilled into her
heart; and this divine lover, jealous of this
lovesleep and repose of this well-beloved, chid
Martha for wanting to awaken her: Martha, Martha,
thou art careful, and art troubled about many things.
But one thing is necessary, Mary hath chosen the best
part, which shall not be taken away from her.(3) But
what was Mary's portion or part? To remain in peace,
repose, and quiet, near unto her sweet Jesus.
The well-beloved S. John is ordinarily painted, in
the Last Supper, not only lying but even sleeping in
his Master's bosom, because he was seated after the
fashion of the Easterns (Levantins), so that his head
was towards his dear lover's breast; and as he slept
no corporal sleep there, - what likelihood of that? -
so I make no question but that, finding himself so
near the breasts of the eternal sweetness, he took a
profound mystical sleep, like a child of love which
locked to its mother's breast sucks while sleeping.
Oh! what a delight it was to this Benjamin, child of
his Saviour's joy, to sleep in the arms of that
father, who the day after, recommended him, as the
Benoni, child of pain, to his mother's sweet breasts.
Nothing is more desirable to the little child,
whether he wake or sleep, than his father's bosom and
mother's breast.
Wherefore, when you shall find yourself in this
simple and pure filial confidence with our Lord, stay
there, my dear Theotimus, without moving yourself to
make sensible acts, either of the understanding or of
the will; for this simple love of confidence, and
this love-sleep of your spirit in the arms of the
Saviour, contains by excellence all that you go
seeking hither and thither to satisfy your taste: it
is better to sleep upon this sacred breast than to
watch elsewhere, wherever it be.
|