|
We speak not here of the general union of the heart
with its God, but of certain particular acts and
movements which the soul, recollected in God, makes
by way of prayer, to be more and more united and
joined to his divine goodness: for there is truly a
difference between joining or uniting one thing to
another, and clasping or pressing one thing against
or upon another; because to join or unite there is
only required an application of one thing to the
other, so that they may touch, and be together, as we
join vines to elms, and jessamine to the trellis-work
of the arbours which are made in gardens. But to
squeeze and press together, a strong application must
be made, which increases and augments the union; so
that to clasp together is to join strongly and
closely, as we see ivy joined to trees, which is not
united only, but pressed and clasped so hard to them
that it even penetrates and enters into their bark.
We must not drop the comparison of the love of
little children towards their mothers, because of its
innocence and purity. Regard, then, that sweet little
child, to whom the seated mother presents her breast.
It casts itself into her arms, gathering and folding
its little body in this bosom and on this beloved
breast. And see the mother, reciprocally, how,
receiving it she clasps it, and as it were glues it
to her bosom, and joining her mouth to its mouth
kisses it. But see again this little babe, allured
with its mother's caresses, how for its part it
concurs in this union between its mother and itself:
for it also, as much as it possibly can, squeezes and
presses itself to its mother's breast and face, as
though it would wholly dive into, and hide itself in
that beloved being from whom it came.
Now, Theotimus, in this moment union is perfect;
which being but one, proceeds notwithstanding from
the mother and the child, yet so, that it has its
whole dependence upon the mother. For she drew the
child to her, she first locked it in her arms, and
pressed it to her breast; nor had the babe strength
enough to clasp and keep itself so tight to its
mother. Yet the poor little one does for its part
what it can, and joins itself with all its strength
to its mother's bosom, not consenting only to the
delightful union which its mother makes, but
contributing, with all its heart, its feeble
endeavours: and I say its feeble endeavours, because
they are so weak that they rather resemble efforts
after union than actual union.
Thus then, Theotimus, our Saviour, showing the most
delightful breast of his divine love to the devout
soul, draws her wholly to himself, gathers her up,
and as it were folds all her powers in the bosom of
his more than motherly sweetness, and then burning
with love, he clasps the soul, joins, presses and
glues her on his lips of sweetness, and to his
delicious breast, kissing her with the sacred kiss of
his mouth, and making her relish his breasts more
sweet than wine.(1) Then the soul, allured with the
delights of these favours, not only consents, and
yields herself to the union which God makes, but with
all her power co-operates, forcing herself to join
and clasp herself closer and closer to the divine
goodness; yet in such a way that she fully
acknowledges her union and attachment to this
sovereign sweetness to be wholly dependent upon God's
operation, without which she could not make the least
effort in the world to be united unto him.
When we see an exquisite beauty beheld with great
ardour, or an excellent melody heard with great
attention, or a rare discourse listened to with great
satisfaction, we are wont to say that this beauty
rivets the eyes of the spectators, this music takes
the ears, and this discourse captivates the hearts,
of the auditors. What does this mean - to rivet the
eyes and ears, or to captivate the heart - save to
unite and most closely join these senses and powers
to their objects?
The soul then closely joins herself to, and
presses herself upon, her object, when she exercises
her affection towards it with great intensity; for
pressure is nothing more than the progress and
advancement of the union and conjunction. We make use
of this word, according to our language, even in
moral matters: he presses me to do this, or he
presses me to stay, that is, he does not merely use
his persuasion and prayer, but does it with
earnestness and entreaty, as did the pilgrims in
Emmaus, who not only petitioned our Saviour, but even
pressed and forcibly urged him, and compelled him by
a loving violence to remain in their lodging with
them.
Now in prayer this union is often made by manner
of little yet frequent flights and advancings of the
soul towards God: and if you take notice of little
children united and joined to their mothers' breasts,
you will see that ever and anon they press and clasp
closer, with little movements which the pleasure they
take in sucking makes them give: so the heart united
to God in prayer often makes certain renewals of
union, by movements which press and join it more
closely to the divine sweetness.
As for example, the soul having long dwelt in the
feeling of the union whereby she sweetly tastes how
happy she is to belong to God, in fine, augmenting
this union by an amorous pressing and moving
forwards: Yea, Lord, will she say, I am thine, all,
all, all, without reserve; or: Ah Lord! I am so
indeed, and will be daily ever more; or, by way of
prayer: O sweet Jesus! Ah! draw me still more deeply
into thy heart, that thy love may devour me, and that
I may be swallowed up in its sweetness.
But at other times the union is made not by
repeated movements, but by way of a continued
insensible pressing and advancing of the heart in the
divine goodness. For as we see a great and heavy mass
of lead, brass or stone, though not forced down, so
work itself, sink down, and press itself, into the
earth where it lies, that at length it is found
buried, by reason of the effect of its weight, which
makes it incessantly tend to the centre; - so our
heart, being once joined to God, if without being
drawn away it remain in this union, sinks still
deeper by an insensible progress of union, till it is
wholly in God, by reason of the sacred inclination
given it by love to unite itself ever more and more
to the sovereign goodness.
For as the great apostle of France says: "Love is
a unitive virtue:" that is, it carries us to perfect
union with the sovereign good. And since it is an
undoubted truth that divine love, while we are in
this life, is a movement, or at least a habit active
and tending to movement; even after it has attained
simple union, it ceases not to act, though
imperceptibly, in order more and more to increase and
perfect it.
So trees that require transplanting, as soon as they
are moved spread their roots and lodge them deeply in
the bosom of the earth, which is their element and
their aliment, nor do any perceive it while it is
doing, but only after it is done. And man's heart,
transplanted out of the world into God by celestial
love, if it earnestly practise prayer, will certainly
ever extend itself, and will fasten itself to the
Divinity, uniting itself more and more to his
goodness, but by imperceptible advances, whose
progress one can hardly see while it is doing, but
only when it is done.
If you drink any exquisite water, for instance,
imperial water, the simple union of it with you is
instantly made upon your receiving it; for the
receiving and union is all one in this case; but
afterwards by little and little this union is
increased, by a progress imperceptibly sensible: for
the virtue of this water penetrating to all parts,
will strengthen the brain, invigorate the heart, and
extend its influence through all your humours.
In like manner, a feeling of love - as for
example: How good God is! - having got entrance into
the heart, at first causes union with this goodness;
but being entertained for some fairly long time, as a
precious perfume it penetrates every part of the
soul, pours out and dilates itself in our will, and
as it were, incorporates itself with our spirit,
joining and fastening itself on every side more and
more closely to us, and uniting us to it.
And this is what the great David teaches us, when
he compares the sacred words to honey; for who knows
not that the sweetness of honey is united more and
more to our sense by a continual increase of savour,
when, keeping it a good while in our mouth, or
swallowing it slowly, the relish thereof more deeply
penetrates our sense of taste.
In the same way that sentiment of the divine
goodness, expressed in those words of S. Bruno: O
Goodness! or those of S. Thomas: My Lord and my God!
or those of S. Magdalen: Ah! my Master!! or those of
S. Francis: My God and my All! - this sentiment, I
say, having been kept some while within a loving
heart, dilates itself, spreads itself, and sinks into
the spirit by an intimate penetration, and more and
more steeps it all in its savour.
This is nothing else than to increase union; as
does precious ointment or balm, which, falling upon
cotton-wool, so sinks into it and unites itself to it
more and more, little by little, that in the end one
cannot easily say whether the wool is perfumed or
perfume, or, whether the perfume is wool, or the wool
perfume. Oh! how happy is the soul who in the
tranquillity of her heart lovingly preserves the
sacred feeling of God's presence!
For her union with the divine goodness will have
continual though imperceptible increase, and will
thoroughly steep the spirit of such a one in infinite
sweetness. Now when I speak here of the sacred
sentiment of the presence of God, I do not mean to
speak of a sensible feeling, but of that which
resides in the summit and supreme point of the
spirit, where heavenly love reigns and conducts its
principal exercises.
|