__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
Title: A Spiritual Canticle of the Soul and the Bridegroom Christ
\nCreator(s): John of the Cross, St. (1542-1591)<\/p>\n
Practical theology<\/p>\n
Practical religion. The Christian life<\/p>\n
Mysticism
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE OF THE SOUL<\/p>\n
AND THE BRIDEGROOM CHRIST<\/p>\n
BY<\/p>\n
ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS<\/p>\n
TRANSLATED BY<\/p>\n
DAVID LEWIS<\/p>\n
WITH CORRECTIONS AND AN INTRODUCTION BY<\/p>\n
BENEDICT ZIMMERMAN, O.C.D.<\/p>\n
Prior of St. Luke’s, Wincanton<\/p>\n
June 28, 1909<\/p>\n
Electronic Edition with Modernization of English by<\/p>\n
Harry Plantinga, 1995<\/p>\n
This Electronic Text is in the Public Domain
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
INTRODUCTION<\/p>\n
THE present volume of the works of St. John of the Cross contains the
\nexplanation of the ?Spiritual Canticle of the Soul and the Bridegroom
\nChrist.? The two earlier works, the ?Ascent of Mount Carmel? and the
\n?Dark Night of the Soul,? dealt with the cleansing of the soul, the
\nunremittant war against even the smallest imperfections standing in the
\nway of union with God; imperfections which must be removed, partly by
\nstrict self-discipline, partly by the direct intervention of God, Who,
\nsearching ?the reins and hearts? by means of heavy interior and
\nexterior trials, purges away whatever is displeasing to Him. Although
\nsome stanzas refer to this preliminary state, the chief object of the
\n?Spiritual Canticle? is to picture under the Biblical simile of
\nEspousals and Matrimony the blessedness of a soul that has arrived at
\nunion with God.<\/p>\n
The Canticle was composed during the long imprisonment St. John
\nunderwent at Toledo from the beginning of December 1577 till the middle
\nof August of the following year. Being one of the principal supporters
\nof the Reform of St. Teresa, he was also one of the victims of the war
\nwaged against her work by the Superiors of the old branch of the Order.
\nSt. John’s prison was a narrow, stifling cell, with no window, but only
\na small loophole through which a ray of light entered for a short time
\nof the day, just long enough to enable him to say his office, but
\naffording little facility for reading or writing. However, St. John
\nstood in no need of books. Having for many years meditated on every
\nword of Holy Scripture, the Word of God was deeply written in his
\nheart, supplying abundant food for conversation with God during the
\nwhole period of his imprisonment. From time to time he poured forth his
\nsoul in poetry; afterwards he communicated his verses to friends.<\/p>\n
One of these poetical works, the fruit of his imprisonment, was the
\n?Spiritual Canticle,? which, as the reader will notice, is an abridged
\nparaphrase of the Canticle of Canticles, the Song of Solomon, wherein
\nunder the image of passionate love are described the mystical
\nsufferings and longings of a soul enamored with God.<\/p>\n
From the earliest times the Fathers and Doctors of the Church had
\nrecognized the mystical character of the Canticle, and the Church had
\nlargely utilized it in her liturgy. But as there is nothing so holy but
\nthat it may be abused, the Canticle almost more than any other portion
\nof Holy Scripture, had been misinterpreted by a false Mysticism, such
\nas was rampant in the middle of the sixteenth century. It had come to
\npass, said the learned and saintly Augustinian, Fray Luis de Leon, that
\nthat which was given as a medicine was turned into poison, [1] so that
\nthe Ecclesiastical authority, by the Index of 1559, forbade the
\ncirculation of the Bible or parts of the Bible in any but the original
\nlanguages, Hebrew, Greek, and Latin; and no one knew better than Luis
\nde Leon himself how rigorously these rules were enforced, for he had to
\nexpiate by nearly five years’ imprisonment the audacity of having
\ntranslated into Castilian the Canticle of Canticles. [2]<\/p>\n
Again, one of the confessors of St. Teresa, commonly thought to have
\nbeen the Dominican, Fray Diego de Yanguas, on learning that the Saint
\nhad written a book on the Canticle, ordered her to throw it into the
\nfire, so that we now only possess a few fragments of her work, which,
\nunknown to St. Teresa, had been copied by a nun.<\/p>\n
It will now be understood that St. John’s poetical paraphrase of the
\nCanticle must have been welcome to many contemplative souls who desired
\nto kindle their devotion with the words of Solomon, but were unable to
\nread them in Latin. Yet the text alone, without explanation, would have
\nhelped them little; and as no one was better qualified than the author
\nto throw light on the mysteries hidden under oriental imagery, the
\nVenerable Ann of Jesus, Prioress of the Carmelite convent at Granada,
\nrequested St. John to write a commentary on his verses. [3] He at first
\nexcused himself, saying that he was no longer in that state of
\nspiritual exuberance in which he had been when composing the Canticle,
\nand that there only remained to him a confused recollection of the
\nwonderful operations of Divine grace during the period of his
\nimprisonment. Ann of Jesus was not satisfied with this answer; she not
\nonly knew that St. John had lost nothing of his fervor, though he might
\nno longer experience the same feelings, but she remembered what had
\nhappened to St. Teresa under similar circumstances, and believed the
\nsame thing might happen to St. John. When St. Teresa was obliged to
\nwrite on some mystical phenomena, the nature of which she did not fully
\nunderstand, or whose effect she had forgotten, God granted her
\nunexpectedly a repetition of her former experiences so as to enable her
\nto fully study the matter and report on it. [4] Venerable Ann of Jesus
\nfelt sure that if St. John undertook to write an explanation of the
\nCanticle he would soon find himself in the same mental attitude as when
\nhe composed it.<\/p>\n
St. John at last consented, and wrote the work now before us. The
\nfollowing letter, which has lately come to light, gives some valuable
\ninformation of its composition. The writer, Magdalen of the Holy
\nSpirit, nun of Veas, where she was professed on August 6, 1577, was
\nintimately acquainted with the Saint.<\/p>\n
?When the holy father escaped from prison, he took with him a book of
\npoetry he had written while there, containing the verses commencing In
\nthe beginning was the Word,’ and those others: I know the fountain well
\nwhich flows and runs, though it is night,’ and the canticle, Where have
\nyou hidden yourself?’ as far as O nymphs of Judea’ (stanza XVIII.). The
\nremaining verses he composed later on while rector of the college of
\nBaeza (15791 – 81), while some of the explanations were written at Veas
\nat the request of the nuns, and others at Granada. The Saint wrote this
\nbook in prison and afterwards left it at Veas, where it was handed to
\nme to make some copies of it. Later on it was taken away from my cell,
\nand I never knew who took it. I was much struck with the vividness and
\nthe beauty and subtlety of the words. One day I asked the Saint whether
\nGod had given him these words which so admirably explain those
\nmysteries, and He answered: Child, sometimes God gave them to me, and
\nat other times I sought them myself.’? [5]<\/p>\n
The autograph of St. John’s work which is preserved at Jaen bears the
\nfollowing title:<\/p>\n
?Explanation of Stanzas treating of the exercise of love between the
\nsoul and Jesus Christ its Spouse, dealing with and commenting on
\ncertain points and effects of prayer; written at the request of
\nMother Ann of Jesus, prioress of the Discalced Carmelite nuns of St.
\nJoseph’s convent, Granada, 1584.?<\/p>\n
As might be expected, the author dedicated the book to Ann of Jesus, at
\nwhose request he had written it. Thus, he began his Prologue with the
\nfollowing words: ?Inasmuch as this canticle, Reverend Mother (Religiosa
\nMadre), seems to have been written,? etc. A little further on he said:
\n?The stanzas that follow, having been written under the influence of
\nthat love which proceeds from the overflowing mystical intelligence,
\ncannot be fully explained. Indeed, I do not purpose any such thing, for
\nmy sole purpose is to throw some general light over them, since Your
\nReverence has asked me to do so, and since this, in my opinion too, is
\nthe better course.? And again: ?I shall, however, pass over the more
\nordinary (effects of prayer), and treat briefly of the more
\nextraordinary to which they are subject who, by the mercy of God, have
\nadvanced beyond the state of beginners. This I do for two reasons: the
\nfirst is that much is already written concerning beginners; and the
\nsecond is that I am addressing myself to Your Reverence at your own
\nbidding; for you have received from Our Lord the grace of being led on
\nfrom the elementary state and led inwards to the bosom of His divine
\nlove.? He continues thus: ?I therefore trust, though I may discuss some
\npoints of scholastic theology relating to the interior commerce of the
\nsoul with God, that I am not using such language altogether in vain,
\nand that it will be found profitable for pure spirituality. For though
\nYour Reverence is ignorant of scholastic theology, you are by no means
\nignorant of mystical theology, the science of love, etc.?<\/p>\n
From these passages it appears quite clearly that the Saint wrote the
\nbook for Venerable Ann of Jesus and the nuns of her convent. With the
\nexception of an edition published at Brussels in 1627, these personal
\nallusions have disappeared from both the Spanish text and the
\ntranslations, [6] nor are they to be found in Mr. Lewis’s version.
\nThere cannot be the least doubt that they represent St. John’s own
\nintention, for they are to be found in his original manuscript. This,
\ncontaining, in several parts, besides the Explanation of the Spiritual
\nCanticle, various poems by the Saint, was given by him to Ann of Jesus,
\nwho in her turn committed it to the care of one of her nuns, Isabelle
\nof the Incarnation, who took it with her to Baeza, where she remained
\neleven years, and afterwards to Jaen, where she founded a convent of
\nwhich she became the first prioress. She there caused the precious
\nmanuscript to be bound in red velvet with silver clasps and gilt edges.
\nIt still was there in 1876, and, for all we know, remains to the
\npresent day in the keeping of the said convent. It is a pity that no
\nphotographic edition of the writings of St. John (so far as the
\noriginals are preserved) has yet been attempted, for there is need for
\na critical edition of his works.<\/p>\n
The following is the division of the work: Stanzas I. to IV. are
\nintroductory; V. to XII. refer to the contemplative life in its earlier
\nstages; XIII. to XXI., dealing with what the Saint calls the Espousals,
\nappertain to the Unitive way, where the soul is frequently, but not
\nhabitually, admitted to a transient union with God; and XXII. to the
\nend describe what he calls Matrimony, the highest perfection a soul can
\nattain this side of the grave. The reader will find an epitome of the
\nwhole system of mystical theology in the explanation of Stanza XXVI.<\/p>\n
This work differs in many respects from the ?Ascent? and the ?Dark
\nNight.? Whereas these are strictly systematic, preceding on the line of
\nrelentless logic, the ?Spiritual Canticle,? as a poetical work ought to
\ndo, soars high above the divisions and distinctions of the scholastic
\nmethod. With a boldness akin to that of his Patron Saint, the
\nEvangelist, St. John rises to the highest heights, touching on a
\nsubject that should only be handled by a Saint, and which the reader,
\nwere he a Saint himself, will do well to treat cautiously: the
\npartaking by the human soul of the Divine Nature, or, as St. John calls
\nit, the Deification of the soul (Stanza XXVI. sqq.), These are regions
\nwhere the ordinary mind threatens to turn; but St. John, with the
\nknowledge of what he himself had experienced, not once but many times,
\nwhat he had observed in others, and what, above all, he had read of in
\nHoly Scripture, does not shrink from lifting the veil more completely
\nthan probably any Catholic writer on mystical theology has done. To
\npass in silence the last wonders of God’s love for fear of being
\nmisunderstood, would have been tantamount to ignoring the very end for
\nwhich souls are led along the way of perfection; to reveal these
\nmysteries in human language, and say all that can be said with not a
\nword too much, not an uncertain or misleading line in the picture: this
\ncould only have been accomplished by one whom the Church has already
\ndeclared to have been taught by God Himself (divinitus instructus), and
\nwhose books She tells us are filled with heavenly wisdom (coelesti
\nsapientia refertos). It is hoped that sooner or later She will proclaim
\nhim (what many grave authorities think him to be) a Doctor of the
\nChurch, namely, the Doctor of Mystical theology. [7]<\/p>\n
As has already been noticed in the Introduction to the ?Ascent,? the
\nwhole of the teaching of St. John is directly derived from Holy
\nScripture and from the psychological principles of St. Thomas Aquinas.
\nThere is no trace to be found of an influence of the Mystics of the
\nMiddle Age, with whose writings St. John does not appear to have been
\nacquainted. But throughout this treatise there are many obvious
\nallusions to the writings of St. Teresa, nor will the reader fail to
\nnotice the encouraging remark about the publication of her works
\n(stanza xiii, sect. 8). The fact is that the same Venerable Ann of
\nJesus who was responsible for the composition of St. John’s treatise
\nwas at the same time making preparations for the edition of St.
\nTeresa’s works which a few years later appeared at Salamanca under the
\neditorship of Fray Luis de Leon, already mentioned.<\/p>\n
Those of his readers who have been struck with, not to say frightened
\nby, the exactions of St. John in the ?Ascent? and the ?Dark Night,?
\nwhere he demands complete renunciation of every kind of satisfaction
\nand pleasure, however legitimate in themselves, and an entire
\nmortification of the senses as well as the faculties and powers of the
\nsoul, and who have been wondering at his self-abnegation which caused
\nhim not only to accept, but even to court contempt, will find here the
\nclue to this almost inhuman attitude. In his response to the question
\nof Our Lord, ?What shall I give you for all you have done and suffered
\nfor Me ?Lord, to suffer and be despised for You? — he was not
\nanimated by grim misanthropy or stoic indifference, but he had learned
\nthat in proportion as the human heart is emptied of Self, after having
\nbeen emptied of all created things, it is open to the influx of Divine
\ngrace. This he fully proves in the ?Spiritual Canticle.? To be made
\n?partaker of the Divine Nature,? as St. Peter says, human nature must
\nundergo a radical transformation. Those who earnestly study the
\nteaching of St. John in his earlier treatises and endeavor to put his
\nrecommendations into practice, will see in this and the next volume an
\nunexpected perspective opening before their eyes, and they will begin
\nto understand how it is that the sufferings of this time — whether
\nvoluntary or involuntary — are not worthy to be compared with the
\nglory to come that shall be revealed in us.<\/p>\n
Mr. Lewis’s masterly translation of the works of St. John of the Cross
\nappeared in 1864 under the auspices of Cardinal Wiseman. In the second
\nedition, of 1889, he made numerous changes, without, however, leaving a
\nrecord of the principles that guided him. Sometimes, indeed, the
\nrevised edition is terser than the first, but just as often the old one
\nseems clearer. It is more difficult to understand the reasons that led
\nhim to alter very extensively the text of quotations from Holy
\nScripture. In the first edition he had nearly always strictly adhered
\nto the Douay version, which is the one in official use in the Catholic
\nChurch in English-speaking countries. It may not always be as perfect
\nas one would wish it to be, but it must be acknowledged that the
\nwholesale alteration in Mr. Lewis’s second edition is, to say the
\nleast, puzzling. Even the Stanzas have undergone many changes in the
\nsecond edition, and it will be noticed that there are some variants in
\ntheir text as set forth at the beginning of the book, and as repeated
\nat the heading of each chapter.<\/p>\n
The present edition, allowing for some slight corrections, is a reprint
\nof that of 1889.<\/p>\n
Benedict Zimmerman, Prior, O.C.D.
\nSt. Lukes, Wincanton, Somerset,
\nFeast of St. Simon Stock,
\nMay 16, 1909.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[1] Los nombres de Cristo.’ Introduction.<\/p>\n
[2] This exceptionally severe legislation, justified by the dangers of
\nthe time, only held good for Spain and the Spanish colonies, and has
\nlong since been revised. It did not include the Epistles and Gospels,
\nPsalms, Passion, and other parts of the daily service.<\/p>\n
[3] Ann de Lobera, born at Medina del Campo, November 25, 1545, was a
\ndeaf-mute until her eighth year. When she applied for admission to the
\nCarmelite convent at Avila St. Teresa promised to receive her not so
\nmuch as a novice, but as her companion and future successor; she took
\nthe habit August 1, 1570, and made her profession at Salamanca, October
\n21, 1571. She became the first prioress of Veas, and was entrusted by
\nSt. Teresa with the foundation of Granada (January 1582), where she
\nfound St. John of the Cross, who was prior of the convent of The
\nMartyrs (well known to visitors of the Alhambra although no longer a
\nconvent). St. John not only became the director and confessor of the
\nconvent of nuns, but remained the most faithful helper and the
\nstaunchest friend of Mother Ann throughout the heavy trials which
\nmarred many years of her life. In 1604 she went to Paris, to found the
\nfirst convent of her Order in France, and in 1607 she proceeded to
\nBrussels, where she remained until her death, March 4, 1621, The heroic
\nnature of her virtues having been acknowledged, she was declared
\nVenerable’ in 1878, and it is hoped that she will soon be beatified.<\/p>\n
[4] See Life of St. Teresa’: ed. Baker (London, I904), ch. xiv. 12,
\nxvi. 2, xviii. 10.<\/p>\n
[5] Manuel Serrano y Sanz,’ Apuntos para una Biblioteca de Escritores
\nespanoles. (1903, p. 399).<\/p>\n
[6] Cf. Berthold-Ignace de Sainte Anne, Vie de la Mere Anne de Jesui’
\n(Malines, 1876), I. 343 ff.<\/p>\n
[7] On this subject see Fray Eulogio de San Jose, Doctorado de Santa
\nTeresa de Jesus y de San Juan de la Cruz.’ Cordoba, 1896.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE OF THE SOUL AND THE BRIDEGROOM CHRIST [8]<\/p>\n
PROLOGUE<\/p>\n
INASMUCH as this canticle seems to have been written with some fervor
\nof love of God, whose wisdom and love are, as is said in the book of
\nWisdom, [9] so vast that they reach ?from end to end,? and as the soul,
\ntaught and moved by Him, manifests the same abundance and strength in
\nthe words it uses, I do not purpose here to set forth all that
\ngreatness and fullness the spirit of love, which is fruitful, embodies
\nin it. Yes, rather it would be foolishness to think that the language
\nof love and the mystical intelligence — and that is what these stanzas
\nare — can be at all explained in words of any kind, for the Spirit of
\nour Lord who helps our weakness — as St. Paul says [10] — dwelling in
\nus makes petitions for us with groaning unutterable for that which we
\ncannot well understand or grasp so as to be able to make it known. ?The
\nSpirit helps our infirmity . . . the Spirit Himself requests for us
\nwith groanings unspeakable.? For who can describe that which He shows
\nto loving souls in whom He dwells? Who can set forth in words that
\nwhich He makes them feel? and, lastly, who can explain that for which
\nthey long?<\/p>\n
2. Assuredly no one can do it; not even they themselves who experience
\nit. That is the reason why they use figures of special comparisons and
\nsimilitudes; they hide somewhat of that which they feel and in the
\nabundance of the Spirit utter secret mysteries rather than express
\nthemselves in clear words.<\/p>\n
3. And if these similitudes are not received in the simplicity of a
\nloving mind, and in the sense in which they are uttered, they will seem
\nto be effusions of folly rather than the language of reason; as anyone
\nmay see in the divine Canticle of Solomon, and in others of the sacred
\nbooks, wherein the Holy Spirit, because ordinary and common speech
\ncould not convey His meaning, uttered His mysteries in strange terms
\nand similitudes. It follows from this, that after all that the holy
\ndoctors have said, and may say, no words of theirs can explain it; nor
\ncan words do it; and so, in general, all that is said falls far short
\nof the meaning.<\/p>\n
4. The stanzas that follow having been written under influence of that
\nlove which proceeds from the overflowing mystical intelligence, cannot
\nbe fully explained. Indeed I do not purpose any such thing, for my sole
\nobject is to throw some general light over them, which in my opinion is
\nthe better course. It is better to leave the outpourings of love in
\ntheir own fullness, that everyone may apply them according to the
\nmeasure of his spirit and power, than to pare them down to one
\nparticular sense which is not suited to the taste of everyone. And
\nthough I do put forth a particular explanation, still others are not to
\nbe bound by it. The mystical wisdom — that is, the love, of which
\nthese stanzas speak — does not require to be distinctly understood in
\norder to produce the effect of love and tenderness in the soul, for it
\nis in this respect like faith, by which we love God without a clear
\ncomprehension of Him.<\/p>\n
5. I shall therefore be very concise, though now and then unable to
\navoid some prolixity where the subject requires it, and when the
\nopportunity is offered of discussing and explaining certain points and
\neffects of prayer: many of which being referred to in these stanzas, I
\nmust discuss some of them. I shall, however, pass over the more
\nordinary ones, and treat briefly of the more extraordinary to which
\nthey are subject who, by the mercy of God, have advanced beyond the
\nstate of beginners. This I do for two reasons: the first is, that much
\nis already written concerning beginners; and the second is, that I am
\naddressing those who have received from our Lord the grace of being led
\non from the elementary state and are led inwards to the bosom of His
\ndivine love.<\/p>\n
6. I therefore trust, though I may discuss some points of scholastic
\ntheology relating to the interior commerce of the soul with God, that I
\nam not using such language altogether in vain, and that it will be
\nfound profitable for pure spirituality. For though some may be
\naltogether ignorant of scholastic theology by which the divine verities
\nare explained, yet they are not ignorant of mystical theology, the
\nscience of love, by which those verities are not only learned, but at
\nthe same time are relished also.<\/p>\n
7. And in order that what I am going to say may be the better received,
\nI submit myself to higher judgments, and unreservedly to that of our
\nholy mother the Church, intending to say nothing in reliance on my own
\npersonal experience, or on what I have observed in other spiritual
\npersons, nor on what I have heard them say — though I intend to profit
\nby all this — unless I can confirm it with the sanction of the divine
\nwritings, at least on those points which are most difficult of
\ncomprehension.<\/p>\n
8. The method I propose to follow in the matter is this: first of all,
\nto cite the words of the text and then to give that explanation of them
\nwhich belongs to the subject before me. I shall now transcribe all the
\nstanzas and place them at the beginning of this treatise. In the next
\nplace, I shall take each of them separately, and explain them line by
\nline, each line in its proper place before the explanation.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[8] [This canticle was made by the Saint when he was in the prison of
\nthe Mitigation, in Toledo. It came into the hands of the Venerable Anne
\nof Jesus, at whose request he wrote the following commentary on it, and
\naddressed it to her.]<\/p>\n
[9] Wisdom 8:1<\/p>\n
[10] Rom. 8:26
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
SONG OF THE SOUL AND THE BRIDEGROOM<\/p>\n
I<\/p>\n
THE BRIDE<\/p>\n
Where have You hidden Yourself,<\/p>\n
And abandoned me in my groaning, O my Beloved?<\/p>\n
You have fled like the hart,<\/p>\n
Having wounded me.<\/p>\n
I ran after You, crying; but You were gone.<\/p>\n
II<\/p>\n
O shepherds, you who go<\/p>\n
Through the sheepcots up the hill,<\/p>\n
If you shall see Him<\/p>\n
Whom I love the most,<\/p>\n
Tell Him I languish, suffer, and die.<\/p>\n
III<\/p>\n
In search of my Love<\/p>\n
I will go over mountains and strands;<\/p>\n
I will gather no flowers,<\/p>\n
I will fear no wild beasts;<\/p>\n
And pass by the mighty and the frontiers.<\/p>\n
IV<\/p>\n
O groves and thickets<\/p>\n
Planted by the hand of the Beloved;<\/p>\n
O verdant meads<\/p>\n
Enameled with flowers,<\/p>\n
Tell me, has He passed by you?<\/p>\n
V<\/p>\n
ANSWER OF THE CREATURES<\/p>\n
A thousand graces diffusing<\/p>\n
He passed through the groves in haste,<\/p>\n
And merely regarding them<\/p>\n
As He passed<\/p>\n
Clothed them with His beauty.<\/p>\n
VI<\/p>\n
THE BRIDE<\/p>\n
Oh! who can heal me?<\/p>\n
Give me at once Yourself,<\/p>\n
Send me no more<\/p>\n
A messenger<\/p>\n
Who cannot tell me what I wish.<\/p>\n
VII<\/p>\n
All they who serve are telling me<\/p>\n
Of Your unnumbered graces;<\/p>\n
And all wound me more and more,<\/p>\n
And something leaves me dying,<\/p>\n
I know not what, of which they are darkly speaking.<\/p>\n
VIII<\/p>\n
But how you persevere, O life,<\/p>\n
Not living where you live;<\/p>\n
The arrows bring death<\/p>\n
Which you receive<\/p>\n
From your conceptions of the Beloved.<\/p>\n
IX<\/p>\n
Why, after wounding<\/p>\n
This heart, have You not healed it?<\/p>\n
And why, after stealing it,<\/p>\n
Have You thus abandoned it,<\/p>\n
And not carried away the stolen prey?<\/p>\n
X<\/p>\n
Quench my troubles,<\/p>\n
For no one else can soothe them;<\/p>\n
And let my eyes behold You,<\/p>\n
For You are their light,<\/p>\n
And I will keep them for You alone.<\/p>\n
XI<\/p>\n
Reveal Your presence,<\/p>\n
And let the vision and Your beauty kill me,<\/p>\n
Behold the malady<\/p>\n
Of love is incurable<\/p>\n
Except in Your presence and before Your face.<\/p>\n
XII<\/p>\n
O crystal well!<\/p>\n
Oh that on Your silvered surface<\/p>\n
You would mirror forth at once<\/p>\n
Those eyes desired<\/p>\n
Which are outlined in my heart!<\/p>\n
XIII<\/p>\n
Turn them away, O my Beloved!<\/p>\n
I am on the wing:<\/p>\n
THE BRIDEGROOM<\/p>\n
Return, My Dove!<\/p>\n
The wounded hart<\/p>\n
Looms on the hill<\/p>\n
In the air of your flight and is refreshed.<\/p>\n
XIV<\/p>\n
My Beloved is the mountains,<\/p>\n
The solitary wooded valleys,<\/p>\n
The strange islands,<\/p>\n
The roaring torrents,<\/p>\n
The whisper of the amorous gales;<\/p>\n
XV<\/p>\n
The tranquil night<\/p>\n
At the approaches of the dawn,<\/p>\n
The silent music,<\/p>\n
The murmuring solitude,<\/p>\n
The supper which revives, and enkindles love.<\/p>\n
XVI<\/p>\n
Catch us the foxes,<\/p>\n
For our vineyard has flourished;<\/p>\n
While of roses<\/p>\n
We make a nosegay,<\/p>\n
And let no one appear on the hill.<\/p>\n
XVII<\/p>\n
O killing north wind, cease!<\/p>\n
Come, south wind, that awakens love!<\/p>\n
Blow through my garden,<\/p>\n
And let its odors flow,<\/p>\n
And the Beloved shall feed among the flowers.<\/p>\n
XVIII<\/p>\n
O nymphs of Judea!<\/p>\n
While amid the flowers and the rose-trees<\/p>\n
The amber sends forth its perfume,<\/p>\n
Tarry in the suburbs,<\/p>\n
And touch not our thresholds.<\/p>\n
XIX<\/p>\n
Hide yourself, O my Beloved!<\/p>\n
Turn Your face to the mountains,<\/p>\n
Do not speak,<\/p>\n
But regard the companions<\/p>\n
Of her who is traveling amidst strange islands.<\/p>\n
XX<\/p>\n
THE BRIDEGROOM<\/p>\n
Light-winged birds,<\/p>\n
Lions, fawns, bounding does,<\/p>\n
Mountains, valleys, strands,<\/p>\n
Waters, winds, heat,<\/p>\n
And the terrors that keep watch by night;<\/p>\n
XXI<\/p>\n
By the soft lyres<\/p>\n
And the siren strains, I adjure you,<\/p>\n
Let your fury cease,<\/p>\n
And touch not the wall,<\/p>\n
That the bride may sleep in greater security.<\/p>\n
XXII<\/p>\n
The bride has entered<\/p>\n
The pleasant and desirable garden,<\/p>\n
And there reposes to her heart’s content;<\/p>\n
Her neck reclining<\/p>\n
On the sweet arms of the Beloved.<\/p>\n
XXIII<\/p>\n
Beneath the apple-tree<\/p>\n
There were you betrothed;<\/p>\n
There I gave you My hand,<\/p>\n
And you were redeemed<\/p>\n
Where your mother was corrupted.<\/p>\n
XXIV<\/p>\n
THE BRIDE<\/p>\n
Our bed is of flowers<\/p>\n
By dens of lions encompassed,<\/p>\n
Hung with purple,<\/p>\n
Made in peace,<\/p>\n
And crowned with a thousand shields of gold.<\/p>\n
XXV<\/p>\n
In Your footsteps<\/p>\n
The young ones run Your way;<\/p>\n
At the touch of the fire<\/p>\n
And by the spiced wine,<\/p>\n
The divine balsam flows.<\/p>\n
XXVI<\/p>\n
In the inner cellar<\/p>\n
Of my Beloved have I drunk; and when I went forth<\/p>\n
Over all the plain<\/p>\n
I knew nothing,<\/p>\n
And lost the flock I followed before.<\/p>\n
XXVII<\/p>\n
There He gave me His breasts,<\/p>\n
There He taught me the science full of sweetness.<\/p>\n
And there I gave to Him<\/p>\n
Myself without reserve;<\/p>\n
There I promised to be His bride.<\/p>\n
XXVIII<\/p>\n
My soul is occupied,<\/p>\n
And all my substance in His service;<\/p>\n
Now I guard no flock,<\/p>\n
Nor have I any other employment:<\/p>\n
My sole occupation is love.<\/p>\n
XXIX<\/p>\n
If, then, on the common land<\/p>\n
I am no longer seen or found,<\/p>\n
You will say that I am lost;<\/p>\n
That, being enamored,<\/p>\n
I lost myself; and yet was found.<\/p>\n
XXX<\/p>\n
Of emeralds, and of flowers<\/p>\n
In the early morning gathered,<\/p>\n
We will make the garlands,<\/p>\n
Flowering in Your love,<\/p>\n
And bound together with one hair of my head.<\/p>\n
XXXI<\/p>\n
By that one hair<\/p>\n
You have observed fluttering on my neck,<\/p>\n
And on my neck regarded,<\/p>\n
You were captivated;<\/p>\n
And wounded by one of my eyes.<\/p>\n
XXXII<\/p>\n
When You regarded me,<\/p>\n
Your eyes imprinted in me Your grace:<\/p>\n
For this You loved me again,<\/p>\n
And thereby my eyes merited<\/p>\n
To adore what in You they saw<\/p>\n
XXXIII<\/p>\n
Despise me not,<\/p>\n
For if I was swarthy once<\/p>\n
You can regard me now;<\/p>\n
Since You have regarded me,<\/p>\n
Grace and beauty have You given me.<\/p>\n
XXXIV<\/p>\n
THE BRIDEGROOM<\/p>\n
The little white dove<\/p>\n
Has returned to the ark with the bough;<\/p>\n
And now the turtle-dove<\/p>\n
Its desired mate<\/p>\n
On the green banks has found.<\/p>\n
XXXV<\/p>\n
In solitude she lived,<\/p>\n
And in solitude built her nest;<\/p>\n
And in solitude, alone<\/p>\n
Has the Beloved guided her,<\/p>\n
In solitude also wounded with love.<\/p>\n
XXXVI<\/p>\n
THE BRIDE<\/p>\n
Let us rejoice, O my Beloved!<\/p>\n
Let us go forth to see ourselves in Your beauty,<\/p>\n
To the mountain and the hill,<\/p>\n
Where the pure water flows:<\/p>\n
Let us enter into the heart of the thicket.<\/p>\n
XXXVII<\/p>\n
We shall go at once<\/p>\n
To the deep caverns of the rock<\/p>\n
Which are all secret,<\/p>\n
There we shall enter in<\/p>\n
And taste of the new wine of the pomegranate.<\/p>\n
XXXVIII<\/p>\n
There you will show me<\/p>\n
That which my soul desired;<\/p>\n
And there You will give at once,<\/p>\n
O You, my life!<\/p>\n
That which You gave me the other day.<\/p>\n
XXXIX<\/p>\n
The breathing of the air,<\/p>\n
The song of the sweet nightingale,<\/p>\n
The grove and its beauty<\/p>\n
In the serene night,<\/p>\n
With the flame that consumes, and gives no pains.<\/p>\n
XL<\/p>\n
None saw it;<\/p>\n
Neither did Aminadab appear<\/p>\n
The siege was intermitted,<\/p>\n
And the cavalry dismounted<\/p>\n
At the sight of the waters.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
ARGUMENT<\/p>\n
THESE stanzas describe the career of a soul from its first entrance on
\nthe service of God till it comes to the final state of perfection —
\nthe spiritual marriage. They refer accordingly to the three states or
\nways of the spiritual training — the purgative, illuminative, and
\nunitive ways, some properties and effects of which they explain.<\/p>\n
The first stanzas relate to beginners — to the purgative way. The
\nsecond to the advanced — to the state of spiritual betrothal; that is,
\nthe illuminative way. The next to the unitive way — that of the
\nperfect, the spiritual Marriage. The unitive way, that of the perfect,
\nfollows the illuminative, which is that of the advanced.<\/p>\n
The last stanzas treat of the beatific state, which only the already
\nperfect soul aims at.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
EXPLANATION OF THE STANZAS<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
THE soul, considering the obligations of its state, seeing that ?the
\ndays of man are short;? [11] that the way of eternal life is straight;
\n[12] that ?the just man shall scarcely be saved;? [13] that the things
\nof this world are empty and deceitful; that all die and perish like
\nwater poured on the ground; [14] that time is uncertain, the last
\naccount strict, perdition most easy, and salvation most difficult; and
\nrecognizing also, on the other hand, the great debt that is owing to
\nGod, Who has created it solely for Himself, for which the service of
\nits whole life is due, Who has redeemed it for Himself alone, for which
\nit owes Him all else, and the correspondence of its will to His love;
\nand remembering other innumerable blessings for which it acknowledges
\nitself indebted to God even before it was born: and also that a great
\npart of its life has been wasted, and that it will have to render an
\naccount of it all from beginning to the end, to the payment of ?the
\nlast farthing,? [15] when God shall ?search Jerusalem with lamps;? [16]
\nthat it is already late, and perhaps the end of the day: [17] in order
\nto remedy so great an evil, especially when it is conscious that God is
\ngrievously offended, and that He has hidden His face from it, because
\nit would forget Him for the creature,-the soul, now touched with sorrow
\nand inward sinking of the heart at the sight of its imminent risks and
\nruin, renouncing everything and casting them aside without delaying for
\na day, or even an hour, with fear and groanings uttered from the heart,
\nand wounded with the love of God, begins to invoke the Beloved and
\nsays:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[11] Job 14:5<\/p>\n
[12] Matt. 7:14<\/p>\n
[13] 1 Pet. 4:18<\/p>\n
[14] 2 Kings 14:14<\/p>\n
[15] Matt. 5:26<\/p>\n
[16] Sophon, 1. 12.<\/p>\n
[17] Matt. 20:6
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA I<\/p>\n
THE BRIDE<\/p>\n
Where have You hidden Yourself,<\/p>\n
And abandoned me to my sorrow, O my Beloved!<\/p>\n
You have fled like the hart,<\/p>\n
Having wounded me.<\/p>\n
I ran after You, crying; but You were gone.<\/p>\n
IN this first stanza the soul, enamored of the Word, the Son of God,
\nthe Bridegroom, desiring to be united to Him in the clear and
\nsubstantial vision, sets before Him the anxieties of its love,
\ncomplaining of His absence. And this the more so because, now pierced
\nand wounded with love, for which it had abandoned all things, even
\nitself, it has still to endure the absence of the Beloved, Who has not
\nreleased it from its mortal flesh, that it might have the fruition of
\nHim in the glory of eternity. Hence it cries out,<\/p>\n
?Where have You hidden Yourself<\/p>\n
2. It is as if the soul said, ?Show me, O You the Word, my Bridegroom,
\nthe place where You are hidden.? It asks for the revelation of the
\ndivine Essence; for the place where the Son of God is hidden is,
\naccording to St. John, ?the bosom of the Father,? [18] which is the
\ndivine Essence, transcending all mortal vision, and hidden from all
\nhuman understanding, as Isaiah says, speaking to God, ?Verily You are a
\nhidden God.? [19] From this we learn that the communication and sense
\nof His presence, however great they may be, and the most sublime and
\nprofound knowledge of God which the soul may have in this life, are not
\nGod essentially, neither have they any affinity with Him, for in very
\ntruth He is still hidden from the soul; and it is therefore expedient
\nfor it, amid all these grandeurs, always to consider Him as hidden, and
\nto seek Him in His hiding place, saying,<\/p>\n
?Where have You hidden Yourself<\/p>\n
3. Neither sublime communications nor sensible presence furnish any
\ncertain proof of His gracious presence; nor is the absence thereof, and
\naridity, any proof of His absence from the soul. ?If He come to me, I
\nshall not see Him; if He depart, I shall not understand.? [20] That is,
\nif the soul have any great communication, or impression, or spiritual
\nknowledge, it must not on that account persuade itself that what it
\nthen feels is to enjoy or see God clearly and in His Essence, or that
\nit brings it nearer to Him, or Him to it, however deep such feelings
\nmay be. On the other hand, when all these sensible and spiritual
\ncommunications fail it, and it is itself in dryness, darkness, and
\ndesolation, it must not on that account suppose that God is far from
\nit; for in truth the former state is no sign of its being in a state of
\ngrace, nor is the latter a sign that it is not; for ?man knows not
\nwhether he is worthy of love or hatred? [21] in the sight of God.<\/p>\n
4. The chief object of the soul in these words is not to ask only for
\nthat affective and sensible devotion, wherein there is no certainty or
\nevidence of the possession of the Bridegroom in this life; but
\nprincipally for that clear presence and vision of His Essence, of which
\nit longs to be assured and satisfied in the next. This, too, was the
\nobject of the bride who, in the divine song desiring to be united to
\nthe Divinity of the Bridegroom Word, prayed to the Father, saying,
\n?Show me where You feed, where You lie in the midday.? [22] For to ask
\nto be shown the place where He fed was to ask to be shown the Essence
\nof the Divine Word, the Son; because the Father feeds nowhere else but
\nin His only begotten Son, Who is the glory of the Father. In asking to
\nbe shown the place where He lies in the midday, was to ask for the same
\nthing, because the Son is the sole delight of the Father, Who lies in
\nno other place, and is comprehended by no other thing, but in and by
\nHis beloved Son, in Whom He reposes wholly, communicating to Him His
\nwhole Essence, in the ?midday,? which is eternity, where the Father is
\never begetting and the Son ever begotten.<\/p>\n
5. This pasture, then, is the Bridegroom Word, where the Father feeds
\nin infinite glory. He is also the bed of flowers whereupon He reposes
\nwith infinite delight of love, profoundly hidden from all mortal vision
\nand every created thing. This is the meaning of the bride-soul when she
\nsays,<\/p>\n
?Where have You hidden Yourself<\/p>\n
6. That the thirsty soul may find the Bridegroom, and be one with Him
\nin the union of love in this life — so far as that is possible — and
\nquench its thirst with that drink which it is possible to drink of at
\nHis hands in this life, it will be as well — since that is what the
\nSoul asks of Him — that we should answer for Him, and point out the
\nspecial spot where He is hidden, that He may be found there in that
\nperfection and sweetness of which this life is capable, and that the
\nsoul may not begin to loiter uselessly in the footsteps of its
\ncompanions.<\/p>\n
7. We must remember that the Word, the Son of God, together with the
\nFather and the Holy Spirit, is hidden in essence and in presence, in
\nthe inmost being of the soul. That soul, therefore, that will find Him,
\nmust go out from all things in will and affection, and enter into the
\nprofoundest self-recollection, and all things must be to it as if they
\nexisted not. Hence, St. Augustine says: ?I found You not without, O
\nLord; I sought You without in vain, for You are within,? [23] God is
\ntherefore hidden within the soul, and the true contemplative will seek
\nHim there in love, saying,<\/p>\n
?Where have You hidden Yourself<\/p>\n
8. O you soul, then, most beautiful of creatures, who so long to know
\nthe place where your Beloved is, that you may seek Him, and be united
\nto Him, you know now that you are yourself that very tabernacle where
\nHe dwells, the secret chamber of His retreat where He is hidden.
\nRejoice, therefore, and exult, because all your good and all your hope
\nis so near you as to be within you; or, to speak more accurately, that
\nyou can not be without it, ?for lo, the kingdom of God is within you.?
\n[24] So says the Bridegroom Himself, and His servant, St. Paul, adds:
\n?You are the temple of the living God.? [25] What joy for the soul to
\nlearn that God never abandons it, even in mortal sin; how much less in
\na state of grace! [26]<\/p>\n
9. What more can you desire, what more can you seek without, seeing
\nthat within you have your riches, your delight, your satisfaction, your
\nfullness and your kingdom; that is, your Beloved, Whom you desire and
\nseek? Rejoice, then, and be glad in Him with interior recollection,
\nseeing that you have Him so near. Then love Him, then desire Him, then
\nadore Him, and go not to seek Him out of yourself, for that will be but
\ndistraction and weariness, and you shall not find Him; because there is
\nno fruition of Him more certain, more ready, or more intimate than that
\nwhich is within.<\/p>\n
10. One difficulty alone remains: though He is within, yet He is
\nhidden. But it is a great matter to know the place of His secret rest,
\nthat He may be sought there with certainty. The knowledge of this is
\nthat which you ask for here, O soul, when with loving affection you
\ncry,<\/p>\n
?Where have You hidden Yourself<\/p>\n
11. You will still urge and say, How is it, then, that I find Him not,
\nnor feel Him, if He is within my soul? It is because He is hidden, and
\nbecause you hide not yourself also that you may find Him and feel Him;
\nfor he that will seek that which is hidden must enter secretly into the
\nsecret place where it is hidden, and when he finds it, he is himself
\nhidden like the object of his search. Seeing, then, that the Bridegroom
\nwhom you love is ?the treasure hidden in the field? [27] of your soul,
\nfor which the wise merchant gave all that he had, so you, if you will
\nfind Him, must forget all that is yours, withdraw from all created
\nthings, and hide yourself in the secret retreat of the spirit, shutting
\nthe door upon yourself — that is, denying your will in all things —
\nand praying to your Father in secret. [28] Then you, being hidden with
\nHim, will be conscious of His presence in secret, and will love Him,
\npossess Him in secret, and delight in Him in secret, in a way that no
\ntongue or language can express.<\/p>\n
12. Courage, then, O soul most beautiful, you know now that your
\nBeloved, Whom you desire, dwells hidden within your breast; strive,
\ntherefore, to be truly hidden with Him, and then you shall embrace Him,
\nand be conscious of His presence with loving affection. Consider also
\nthat He bids you, by the mouth of Isaiah, to come to His secret
\nhiding-place, saying, ?Go, . . . enter into your chambers, shut your
\ndoors upon you?; that is, all your faculties, so that no created thing
\nshall enter: ?be hid a little for a moment,? [29] that is, for the
\nmoment of this mortal life; for if now during this life which is short,
\nyou will ?with all watchfulness keep your heart,? [30] as the wise man
\nsays, God will most assuredly give you, as He has promised by the
\nprophet Isaiah, ?hidden treasures and mysteries of secrets.? [31] The
\nsubstance of these secrets is God Himself, for He is the substance of
\nthe faith, and the object of it, and the faith is the secret and the
\nmystery. And when that which the faith conceals shall be revealed and
\nmade manifest, that is the perfection of God, as St. Paul says, ?When
\nthat which is perfect is come,? [32] then shall be revealed to the soul
\nthe substance and mysteries of these secrets.<\/p>\n
13. Though in this mortal life the soul will never reach to the
\ninterior secrets as it will in the next, however much it may hide
\nitself, still, if it will hide itself with Moses, ?in the hole of the
\nrock? — which is a real imitation of the perfect life of the
\nBridegroom, the Son of God — protected by the right hand of God, it
\nwill merit the vision of the ?back parts?; [33] that is, it will reach
\nto such perfection here, as to be united, and transformed by love, in
\nthe Son of God, its Bridegroom. So effectually will this be wrought
\nthat the soul will feel itself so united to Him, so learned and so
\ninstructed in His secrets, that, so far as the knowledge of Him in this
\nlife is concerned, it will be no longer necessary for it to say: ?Where
\nhave You hidden Yourself<\/p>\n
14. You know then, O soul, how you are to demean yourself if you will
\nfind the Bridegroom in His secret place. But if you will hear it again,
\nhear this one word full of substance and unapproachable truth: Seek Him
\nin faith and love, without seeking to satisfy yourself in anything, or
\nto understand more than is expedient for you to know; for faith and
\nlove are the two guides of the blind; they will lead you, by a way you
\nknow not, to the secret chamber of God. Faith, the secret of which I am
\nspeaking, is the foot that journeys onwards to God, and love is the
\nguide that directs its steps. And while the soul meditates on the
\nmysterious secrets of the faith, it will merit the revelation, on the
\npart of love, of that which the faith involves, namely, the Bridegroom
\nWhom it longs for, in this life by spiritual grace, and the divine
\nunion, as we said before, [34] and in the next in essential glory, face
\nto face, hidden now.<\/p>\n
15. But meanwhile, though the soul attains to union, the highest state
\npossible in this life, yet inasmuch as He is still hidden from it in
\nthe bosom of the Father, as I have said, the soul longing for the
\nfruition of Him in the life to come, ever cries, ?Where have You hidden
\nYourself<\/p>\n
16. You do well, then, O soul, in seeking Him always in His secret
\nplace; for you greatly magnify God, and draw near to Him, esteeming Him
\nas far beyond and above all you can reach. Rest, therefore, neither
\nwholly nor in part, on what your faculties can embrace; never seek to
\nsatisfy yourself with what you comprehend of God, but rather with what
\nyou comprehend not; and never rest on the love of, and delight in, that
\nwhich you can understand and feel, but rather on that which is beyond
\nyour understanding and feeling: this is, as I have said, to seek Him by
\nfaith.<\/p>\n
17. God is, as I said before, [35] inaccessible and hidden, and though
\nit may seem that you have found Him, felt Him, and comprehended Him,
\nyet you must ever regard Him as hidden, serve Him as hidden, in secret.
\nDo not be like many unwise, who, with low views of God, think that when
\nthey cannot comprehend Him, or be conscious of His presence, that He is
\nthen farther away and more hidden, when the contrary is true, namely,
\nthat He is nearer to them when they are least aware of it; as the
\nprophet David says, ?He put darkness His covert,? [36] Thus, when you
\nare near to Him, the very infirmity of your vision makes the darkness
\npalpable; you do well, therefore, at all times, in prosperity as well
\nas in adversity, spiritual or temporal, to look upon God as hidden, and
\nto say to Him, ?Where have You hidden Yourself?<\/p>\n
And left me to my sorrow, O my Beloved<\/p>\n
18. The soul calls Him ?my Beloved,? the more to move Him to listen to
\nits cry, for God, when loved, most readily listens to the prayer of him
\nwho loves Him. Thus He speaks Himself: ?If you abide in Me . . . you
\nshall ask whatever thing you will, and it shall be done to you.? [37]
\nThe soul may then with truth call Him Beloved, when it is wholly His,
\nwhen the heart has no attachments but Him, and when all the thoughts
\nare continually directed to Him. It was the absence of this that made
\nDelilah say to Samson, ?How do you say you love me when your mind is
\nnot with me [38] The mind comprises the thoughts and the feelings.
\nSome there are who call the Bridegroom their Beloved, but He is not
\nreally beloved, because their heart is not wholly with Him. Their
\nprayers are, therefore, not so effectual before God, and they shall not
\nobtain their petitions until, persevering in prayer, they fix their
\nminds more constantly upon God and their hearts more wholly in loving
\naffection upon Him, for nothing can be obtained from God but by love.<\/p>\n
19. The words, ?And left me to my sorrow,? tell us that the absence of
\nthe Beloved is the cause of continual sadness in him who loves; for as
\nsuch a one loves none else, so, in the absence of the object beloved,
\nnothing can console or relieve him. This is, therefore, a test to
\ndiscern the true lover of God. Is he satisfied with anything less than
\nGod? Do I say satisfied? Yes, if a man possess all things, he cannot be
\nsatisfied; the greater his possessions the less will be his
\nsatisfaction, for the satisfaction of the heart is not found in
\npossessions, but in detachment from all things and in poverty of
\nspirit. This being so, the perfection of love in which we possess God,
\nby a grace most intimate and special, lives in the soul in this life
\nwhen it has reached it, with a certain satisfaction, which however is
\nnot full, for David, notwithstanding all his perfection, hoped for that
\nin heaven saying, ?I shall be satisfied when Your glory shall appear.?
\n[39]<\/p>\n
20. Thus, then, the peace and tranquillity and satisfaction of heart to
\nwhich the soul may attain in this life are not sufficient to relieve it
\nfrom its groaning, peaceful and painless though it be, while it hopes
\nfor that which is still wanting. Groaning belongs to hope, as the
\nApostle says of himself and others, though perfect, ?Ourselves also,
\nwho have the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within
\nourselves, waiting for the adoption of the sons of God.? [40] The soul
\ngroans when the heart is enamored, for where love wounds there is heard
\nthe groaning of the wounded one, complaining feelingly of the absence
\nof the Beloved, especially when, after tasting of the sweet
\nconversation of the Bridegroom, it finds itself suddenly alone, and in
\naridity, because He has gone away. That is why it cries,<\/p>\n
?You have fled like the hart.?<\/p>\n
21. Here it is to be observed that in the Canticle of Canticles the
\nbride compares the Bridegroom to the roe and the hart on the mountains
\n— ?My Beloved is like a roe and to a fawn of harts? [41] — not only
\nbecause He is shy, solitary, and avoids companions as the hart, but
\nalso for his sudden appearance and disappearance. That is His way in
\nHis visits to devout souls in order to comfort and encourage them, and
\nin the withdrawing and absence which He makes them feel after those
\nvisits in order to try, humble, and teach them. For that purpose He
\nmakes them feel the pain of His absence most keenly, as the following
\nwords show:<\/p>\n
?Having wounded me.?<\/p>\n
22. It is as if it had said, ?It was not enough that I should feel the
\npain and grief which Your absence causes, and from which I am
\ncontinually suffering, but You must, after wounding me with the arrow
\nof Your love, and increasing my longing and desire to see You, run away
\nfrom me with the swiftness of the hart, and not permit me to lay hold
\nof You, even for a moment.?<\/p>\n
23. For the clearer understanding of this we are to keep in mind that,
\nbeside the many kinds of God’s visits to the soul, in which He wounds
\nit with love, there are commonly certain secret touches of love, which,
\nlike a fiery arrow, pierce and penetrate the soul, and burn it with the
\nfire of love. These are properly called the wounds of love, and it is
\nof these the soul is here speaking. These wounds so inflame the will,
\nthat the soul becomes so enveloped with the fire of love as to appear
\nconsumed thereby. They make it go forth out of itself, and be renewed,
\nand enter on another life, as the phoenix from the fire.<\/p>\n
24. David, speaking of this, says, ?My heart has been inflamed, and my
\nreins have been changed; and I am brought to nothing, and I knew not.?
\n[42] The desires and affections, called the reins by the prophet, are
\nall stirred and divinely changed in this burning of the heart, and the
\nsoul, through love, melted into nothing, knowing nothing but love. At
\nthis time the changing of the reins is a great pain, and longing for
\nthe vision of God; it seems to the soul that God treats it with
\nintolerable severity, so much so that the severity with which love
\ntreats it seems to the soul unendurable, not because it is wounded —
\nfor it considers such wounds to be its salvation — but because it is
\nthus suffering from its love, and because He has not wounded it more
\ndeeply so as to cause death, that it may be united to Him in the life
\nof perfect love. The soul, therefore, magnifying its sorrows, or
\nrevealing them, says,<\/p>\n
?Having wounded me.?<\/p>\n
25. The soul says in effect, ?You have abandoned me after wounding me,
\nand You have left me dying of love; and then You have hidden Yourself
\nas a hart swiftly running away.? This impression is most profound in
\nthe soul; for by the wound of love, made in the soul by God, the
\naffections of the will lead most rapidly to the possession of the
\nBeloved, whose touch it felt, and as rapidly also, His absence, and its
\ninability to have the fruition of Him here as it desires. Thereupon
\nsucceed the groaning because of His absence; for these visitations of
\nGod are not like those which recreate and satisfy the soul, because
\nthey are rather for wounding than for healing — more for afflicting
\nthan for satisfying it, seeing that they tend rather to quicken the
\nknowledge, and increase the longing, and consequently pain with the
\nlonging for the vision of God. They are called the spiritual wounds of
\nlove, most sweet to the soul and desirable; and, therefore, when it is
\nthus wounded the soul would willingly die a thousand deaths, because
\nthese wounds make it go forth out of itself, and enter into God, which
\nis the meaning of the words that follow:<\/p>\n
?I ran after You, crying; but You were gone.?<\/p>\n
26. There can be no remedy for the wounds of love but from Him who
\ninflicted them. And so the wounded soul, urged by the vehemence of that
\nburning which the wounds of love occasion, runs after the Beloved,
\ncrying to Him for relief. This spiritual running after God has a
\ntwo-fold meaning. The first is a going forth from all created things,
\nwhich is effected by hating and despising them; the second, a going
\nforth out of oneself, by forgetting self, which is brought about by the
\nlove of God. For when the love of God touches the soul with that
\nvividness of which we are here speaking, it so elevates it, that it
\ngoes forth not only out of itself by self-forgetfulness, but it is also
\ndrawn away from its own judgment, natural ways and inclinations, crying
\nafter God, ?O my Bridegroom,? as if saying, ?By this touch of Yours and
\nwound of love have You drawn me away not only from all created things,
\nbut also from myself — for, in truth, soul and body seem now to part
\n— and raised me up to Yourself, crying after You in detachment from
\nall things that I might be attached to You:<\/p>\n
?You were gone.?<\/p>\n
27. As if saying, ?When I sought Your presence, I found You not; and I
\nwas detached from all things without being able to cling to You —
\nborne painfully by the gales of love without help in You or in myself.?
\nThis going forth of the soul in search of the Beloved is the rising of
\nthe bride in the Canticle: ?I will rise and go about the city; in the
\nstreets and the high ways I will seek Him Whom my soul loves. I have
\nsought Him and have not found . . . they wounded me.? [43] The rising
\nof the bride — speaking spiritually — is from that which is mean to
\nthat which is noble; and is the same with the going forth of the soul
\nout of its own ways and inferior love to the ennobling love of God. The
\nbride says that she was wounded because she found him not; [44] so the
\nsoul also says of itself that it is wounded with love and forsaken;
\nthat is, the loving soul is ever in pain during the absence of the
\nBeloved, because it has given itself up wholly to Him hoping for the
\nreward of its self-surrender, the Possession of the Beloved. Still the
\nBeloved withholds Himself while the soul has lost all things, and even
\nitself, for Him; it obtains no compensation for its loss, seeing that
\nit is deprived of Him whom it loves.<\/p>\n
28. This pain and sense of the absence of God is wont to be so
\noppressive in those who are going onwards to the state of perfection,
\nthat they would die if God did not interpose when the divine wounds are
\ninflicted upon them. As they have the palate of the will wholesome, and
\nthe mind pure and disposed for God, and as they taste in some degree of
\nthe sweetness of divine love, which they supremely desire, so they also
\nsuffer supremely; for, having but a glimpse of an infinite good which
\nthey are not permitted to enjoy, that is to them an ineffable pain and
\ntorment.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[18] John 1:18<\/p>\n
[19] Isa. 45:15<\/p>\n
[20] Job 9:11<\/p>\n
[21] Eccles. 9:1<\/p>\n
[22] Cant. 1:6<\/p>\n
[23] Soliloq.,’ c. 31. Opp. Ed. Ben. tom. vi. app. p. 98.<\/p>\n
[24] Luke 17:21<\/p>\n
[25] 2 Cor. 6:16<\/p>\n
[26] Mt. Carmel,’ Bk. 2, c. 5. sect. 3.<\/p>\n
[27] Matt. 13:44<\/p>\n
[28] Matt. 6:6<\/p>\n
[29] Isa. 26:20<\/p>\n
[30] Prov. 4:23<\/p>\n
[31] Isa. 45:3<\/p>\n
[32] 1 Cor. 13:10<\/p>\n
[33] Exod. 33:22, 23<\/p>\n
[34] Sect. 4.<\/p>\n
[35] Sect. 2.<\/p>\n
[36] Ps. 17:12<\/p>\n
[37] John 15:7<\/p>\n
[38] Judg. 16:15<\/p>\n
[39] Ps. 16:15<\/p>\n
[40] Rom. 8:23<\/p>\n
[41] Cant. 2:9<\/p>\n
[42] Ps. 72:21, 22<\/p>\n
[43] Cant. 3:2, 5:7<\/p>\n
[44] Cant. 5:6, 7
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA II<\/p>\n
O shepherds, you who go<\/p>\n
Through the sheepcots up the hill,<\/p>\n
If you shall see<\/p>\n
Him Whom I love,<\/p>\n
Tell Him I languish, suffer, and die.<\/p>\n
THE soul would now employ intercessors and mediators between itself and
\nthe Beloved, praying them to make its sufferings and afflictions known.
\nOne in love, when he cannot converse personally with the object of his
\nlove, will do so in the best way he can. Thus the soul employs its
\naffections, desires, and groanings as messengers well able to manifest
\nthe secret of its heart to the Beloved. Accordingly, it calls upon them
\nto do this, saying:<\/p>\n
?O shepherds, you who go.?<\/p>\n
2. The shepherds are the affections, and desires, and groanings of the
\nsoul, for they feed it with spiritual good things. A shepherd is one
\nwho feeds: and by means of such God communicates Himself to the soul
\nand feeds it in the divine pastures; for without these groans and
\ndesires He communicates but slightly with it.<\/p>\n
?You who go.?<\/p>\n
You who go forth in pure love; for all desires and affections do not
\nreach God, but only those which proceed from sincere love.<\/p>\n
?Through the sheepcots up the hill.?<\/p>\n
3. The sheepcots are the heavenly hierarchies, the angelic choirs, by
\nwhose ministry, from choir to choir, our prayers and sighs ascend to
\nGod; that is, to the hill, ?for He is the highest eminence, and because
\nin Him, as on a hill, we observe and behold all things, the higher and
\nthe lower sheepcots.? To Him our prayers ascend, offered by angels, as
\nI have said; so the angel said to Tobit ?When you prayed with tears,
\nand buried the dead . . . I offered your prayer to the Lord.? [45]<\/p>\n
4. The shepherds also are the angels themselves, who not only carry our
\npetitions to God, but also bring down the graces of God to our souls,
\nfeeding them like good shepherds, with the sweet communications and
\ninspirations of God, Who employs them in that ministry. They also
\nprotect us and defend us against the wolves, which are the evil
\nspirits. And thus, whether we understand the affections or the angels
\nby the shepherds, the soul calls upon both to be its messengers to the
\nBeloved, and thus addresses them all:<\/p>\n
?If you shall see Him,?<\/p>\n
That is to say:<\/p>\n
5. If, to my great happiness you shall come into His presence, so that
\nHe shall see you and hear your words. God, indeed, knows all things,
\neven the very thoughts of the soul, as He said to Moses, [46] but it is
\nthen He beholds our necessities when He relieves them, and hears our
\nprayers when he grants them. God does not see all necessities and hear
\nall petitions until the time appointed shall have come; it is then that
\nHe is said to hear and see, as we learn in the book of Exodus. When the
\nchildren of Israel had been afflicted for four hundred years as serfs
\nin Egypt, God said to Moses, ?I have seen the affliction of my people
\nin Egypt, and I have heard their cry, and . . . I am come down to
\ndeliver them.? [47] And yet He had seen it always. So also St. Gabriel
\nbade Zachariah not to fear, because God had heard his prayer, and would
\ngrant him the son, for whom he had been praying for many years; [48]
\nyet God had always heard him. Every soul ought to consider that God,
\nthough He does not at once help us and grant our petitions, will still
\nsuccor us in His own time, for He is, as David says, ?a helper in due
\ntime in tribulation,? [49] if we do not become faint-hearted and cease
\nto pray. This is what the soul means by saying, ?If you shall see Him?;
\nthat is to say, if the time is come when it shall be His good pleasure
\nto grant my petitions.<\/p>\n
6. ?Whom I love the most?: that is, whom I love more than all
\ncreatures. This is true of the soul when nothing can make it afraid to
\ndo and suffer all things in His service. And when the soul can also
\ntruly say that which follows, it is a sign that it loves Him above all
\nthings:<\/p>\n
?Tell Him I languish, suffer, and die.?<\/p>\n
7. Here the soul speaks of three things that distress it: namely,
\nlanguor, suffering, and death; for the soul that truly loves God with a
\nlove in some degree perfect, suffers in three ways in His absence, in
\nits three powers ordinarily — the understanding, the will, and the
\nmemory. In the understanding it languishes because it does not see God,
\nWho is the salvation of it, as the Psalmist says: ?I am your
\nsalvation.? [50] In the will it suffers, because it possesses not God,
\nWho is its comfort and delight, as David also says: ?You shall make
\nthem drink of the torrent of Your pleasure.? [51] In the memory it
\ndies, because it remembers its privation of all the blessings of the
\nunderstanding, which are the vision of God, and of the delights of the
\nwill, which are the fruition of Him, and that it is very possible also
\nthat it may lose Him for ever, because of the dangers and chances of
\nthis life. In the memory, therefore, the soul labors under a sensation
\nlike that of death, because it sees itself without the certain and
\nperfect fruition of God, Who is the life of the soul, as Moses says:
\n?He is your life.? [52]<\/p>\n
8. Jeremiah also, in the Lamentations, speaks of these three things,
\npraying to God, and saying: ?Remember my poverty . . . the wormwood and
\nthe gall.? [53] Poverty relates to the understanding, to which
\nappertain the riches of the knowledge of the Son of God, ?in whom all
\nthe treasures of wisdom and knowledge are hid.? [54] The wormwood,
\nwhich is a most bitter herb, relates to the will, to which appertains
\nthe sweetness of the fruition of God, deprived of which it abides in
\nbitterness. We learn in the Revelation that bitterness appertains
\nspiritually to the will, for the angel said to St. John: ?Take the book
\nand eat it up; and it shall make your belly bitter.? [55] Here the
\nbelly signifies the will. The gall relates not only to the memory, but
\nalso to all the powers and faculties of the soul, for it signifies the
\ndeath thereof, as we learn from Moses speaking of the damned: ?Their
\nwine is the gall of dragons, and the venom of asps, which is
\nincurable.? [56] This signifies the loss of God, which is the death of
\nthe soul.<\/p>\n
9. These three things which distress the soul are grounded on the three
\ntheological virtues — faith, charity, and hope, which relate, in the
\norder here assigned them, to the three faculties of the soul —
\nunderstanding, will, and memory. Observe here that the soul does no
\nmore than represent its miseries and pain to the Beloved: for he who
\nloves wisely does not care to ask for that which he wants and desires,
\nbeing satisfied with hinting at his necessities, so that the beloved
\none may do what shall to him seem good. Thus the Blessed Virgin at the
\nmarriage feast of Cana asked not directly for wine, but only said to
\nher Beloved Son, ?They have no wine.? [57] The sisters of Lazarus sent
\nto Him, not to ask Him to heal their brother, but only to say that he
\nwhom He loved was sick: ?Lord, behold, he whom You love is sick.? [58]<\/p>\n
10. There are three reasons for this. Our Lord knows what is expedient
\nfor us better than we do ourselves. Secondly, the Beloved is more
\ncompassionate towards us when He sees our necessities and our
\nresignation. Thirdly, we are more secured against self-love and
\nself-seeking when we represent our necessity, than when we ask for that
\nwhich we think we need. It is in this way that the soul represents its
\nthree necessities; as if it said: ?Tell my Beloved, that as I languish,
\nand as He only is my salvation, to save me; that as I am suffering, and
\nas He only is my joy, to give me joy; that as I am dying, and as He
\nonly is my life, to give me life.?
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[45] Tob. 12:12<\/p>\n
[46] Deut. 31:21<\/p>\n
[47] Exod. 3:7, 8<\/p>\n
[48] Luke 1:13<\/p>\n
[49] Ps. 9:10<\/p>\n
[50] Ps. 34:3<\/p>\n
[51] Ps. 35:9<\/p>\n
[52] Deut. 30:20<\/p>\n
[53] Lam. 3:19<\/p>\n
[54] Col. 2:3<\/p>\n
[55] Rev. 10:9<\/p>\n
[56] Deut. 32:33<\/p>\n
[57] John 2:3<\/p>\n
[58] John 11:3
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA III<\/p>\n
In search of my Love<\/p>\n
I will go over mountains and strands;<\/p>\n
I will gather no flowers,<\/p>\n
I will fear no wild beasts;<\/p>\n
And pass by the mighty and the frontiers.<\/p>\n
THE soul, observing that its sighs and prayers suffice not to find the
\nBeloved, and that it has not been helped by the messengers it invoked
\nin the first and second stanzas, will not, because its searching is
\nreal and its love great, leave undone anything itself can do. The soul
\nthat really loves God is not dilatory in its efforts to find the Son of
\nGod, its Beloved; and, even when it has done all it could it is still
\nnot satisfied, thinking it has done nothing. Accordingly, the soul is
\nnow, in this third stanza, actively seeking the Beloved, and saying how
\nHe is to be found; namely, in the practice of all virtue and in the
\nspiritual exercises of the active and contemplative life; for this end
\nit rejects all delights and all comforts; and all the power and wiles
\nof its three enemies, the world, the devil, and the flesh, are unable
\nto delay it or hinder it on the road.<\/p>\n
?In search of my Love.?<\/p>\n
2. Here the soul makes it known that to find God it is not enough to
\npray with the heart and the tongue, or to have recourse to the help of
\nothers; we must also work ourselves, according to our power. God values
\none effort of our own more than many of others on our behalf; the soul,
\ntherefore, remembering the saying of the Beloved, ?Seek and you shall
\nfind,? [59] is resolved on going forth, as I said just now, to seek Him
\nactively, and not rest till it finds Him, as many do who will not that
\nGod should cost them anything but words, and even those carelessly
\nuttered, and for His sake will do nothing that will cost them anything.
\nSome, too, will not leave for His sake a place which is to their taste
\nand liking, expecting to receive all the sweetness of God in their
\nmouth and in their heart without moving a step, without mortifying
\nthemselves by the abandonment of a single pleasure or useless comfort.<\/p>\n
3. But until they go forth out of themselves to seek Him, however
\nloudly they may cry they will not find Him; for the bride in the
\nCanticle sought Him in this way, but she found Him not until she went
\nout to seek Him: ?In my little bed in the nights I have sought Him Whom
\nmy soul loves: I have sought Him and have not found Him. I will rise
\nand will go about the city: by the streets and highways I will seek Him
\nWhom my soul loves.? [60] She afterwards adds that when she had endured
\ncertain trials she ?found Him.? [61]<\/p>\n
4. He, therefore, who seeks God, consulting his own ease and comfort,
\nseeks Him by night, and therefore finds Him not. But he who seeks Him
\nin the practice of virtue and of good works, casting aside the comforts
\nof his own bed, seeks Him by day; such a one shall find Him, for that
\nwhich is not seen by night is visible by day. The Bridegroom Himself
\nteaches us this, saying, ?Wisdom is clear and never fades away, and is
\neasily seen of them that love her, and is found of them that seek her.
\nShe prevents them that covet her, that she first may show herself to
\nthem. He that awakes early to seek her shall not labor; for he shall
\nfind her sitting at his doors.? [62] The soul that will go out of the
\nhouse of its own will, and abandon the bed of its own satisfaction,
\nwill find the divine Wisdom, the Son of God, the Bridegroom waiting at
\nthe door without, and so the soul says:<\/p>\n
?I will go over mountains and strands.?<\/p>\n
5. Mountains, which are lofty, signify virtues, partly on account of
\ntheir height and partly on account of the toil and labor of ascending
\nthem; the soul says it will ascend to them in the practice of the
\ncontemplative life. Strands, which are low, signify mortifications,
\npenances, and the spiritual exercises, and the soul will add to the
\nactive life that of contemplation; for both are necessary in seeking
\nafter God and in acquiring virtue. The soul says, in effect, ?In
\nsearching after my Beloved I will practice great virtue, and abase
\nmyself by lowly mortifications and acts of humility, for the way to
\nseek God is to do good works in Him, and to mortify the evil in
\nourselves, as it is said in the words that follow:<\/p>\n
?I will gather no flowers.?<\/p>\n
6. He that will seek after God must have his heart detached, resolute,
\nand free from all evils, and from all goods which are not simply God;
\nthat is the meaning of these words. The words that follow describe the
\nliberty and courage which the soul must possess in searching after God.
\nHere it declares that it will gather no flowers by the way — the
\nflowers are all the delights, satisfactions, and pleasures which this
\nlife offers, and which, if the soul sought or accepted, would hinder it
\non the road.<\/p>\n
7. These flowers are of three kinds — temporal, sensual, and
\nspiritual. All of them occupy the heart, and stand in the way of the
\nspiritual detachment required in the way of Christ, if we regard them
\nor rest in them. The soul, therefore, says, that it will not stop to
\ngather any of them, that it may seek after God. It seems to say, I will
\nnot set my heart upon riches or the goods of this world; I will not
\nindulge in the satisfactions and ease of the flesh, neither will I
\nconsult the taste and comforts of my spirit, in order that nothing may
\ndetain me in my search after my Love on the toilsome mountains of
\nvirtue. This means that it accepts the counsel of the prophet David to
\nthose who travel on this road: ?If riches abound, set not your heart
\nupon them,? [63] This is applicable to sensual satisfactions, as well
\nas to temporal goods and spiritual consolations.<\/p>\n
8. From this we learn that not only temporal goods and bodily pleasures
\nhinder us on the road to God, but spiritual delight and consolations
\nalso, if we attach ourselves to them or seek them; for these things are
\nhindrances on the way of the cross of Christ, the Bridegroom. He,
\ntherefore, that will go onwards must not only not stop to gather
\nflowers, but must also have the courage and resolution to say as
\nfollows:<\/p>\n
?I will fear no wild beasts and I will go over the mighty and the
\nfrontiers.?<\/p>\n
Here we have the three enemies of the soul which make war against it,
\nand make its way full of difficulties. The wild beasts are the world;
\nthe mighty, the devil; and the frontiers are the flesh.<\/p>\n
9. The world is the wild beasts, because in the beginning of the
\nheavenly journey the imagination pictures the world to the soul as wild
\nbeasts, threatening and fierce, principally in three ways. The first
\nis, we must forfeit the world’s favor, lose friends, credit,
\nreputation, and property; the second is not less cruel: we must suffer
\nthe perpetual deprivation of all the comforts and pleasures of the
\nworld; and the third is still worse: evil tongues will rise against us,
\nmock us, and speak of us with contempt. This strikes some persons so
\nvividly that it becomes most difficult for them, I do not say to
\npersevere, but even to enter on this road at all.<\/p>\n
10. But there are generous souls who have to encounter wild beasts of a
\nmore interior and spiritual nature — trials, temptations,
\ntribulations, and afflictions of diverse kinds, through which they must
\npass. This is what God sends to those whom He is raising upwards to
\nhigh perfection, proving them and trying them as gold in the fire; as
\nDavid says: ?Many are the tribulations of the just; and out of all
\nthese our Lord will deliver them.? [64] But the truly enamored soul,
\npreferring the Beloved above all things, and relying on His love and
\nfavor, finds no difficulty in saying:<\/p>\n
?I will fear no wild beats? ?and pass over the mighty and the
\nfrontiers.?<\/p>\n
11. Evil spirits, the second enemy of the soul, are called the mighty,
\nbecause they strive with all their might to seize on the passes of the
\nspiritual road; and because the temptations they suggest are harder to
\novercome, and the craft they employ more difficult to detect, than all
\nthe seductions of the world and the flesh; and because, also, they
\nstrengthen their own position by the help of the world and the flesh in
\norder to fight vigorously against the soul. Hence the Psalmist calls
\nthem mighty, saying: ?The mighty have sought after my soul.? [65] The
\nprophet Job also speaks of their might: ?There is no power upon the
\nearth that may be compared with him who was made to fear no man.? [66]<\/p>\n
12. There is no human power that can be compared with the power of the
\ndevil, and therefore the divine power alone can overcome him, and the
\ndivine light alone can penetrate his devices. No soul therefore can
\novercome his might without prayer, or detect his illusions without
\nhumility and mortification. Hence the exhortation of St. Paul to the
\nfaithful: ?Put on the armor of God, that you may stand against the
\ndeceits of the devil: for our wrestling is not against flesh and
\nblood.? [67] Blood here is the world, and the armor of God is prayer
\nand the cross of Christ, wherein consist the humility and mortification
\nof which I have spoken.<\/p>\n
13. The soul says also that it will cross the frontiers: these are the
\nnatural resistance and rebellion of the flesh against the spirit, for,
\nas St. Paul says, the ?flesh lusts against the spirit,? [68] and sets
\nitself as a frontier against the soul on its spiritual road. This
\nfrontier the soul must cross, surmounting difficulties, and trampling
\nunderfoot all sensual appetites and all natural affections with great
\ncourage and resolution of spirit: for while they remain in the soul,
\nthe spirit will be by them hindered from advancing to the true life and
\nspiritual delight. This is set clearly before us by St. Paul, saying:
\n?If by the spirit you mortify the deeds of the flesh, you shall live.?
\n[69] This, then, is the process which the soul in this stanza says it
\nbecomes it to observe on the way to seek the Beloved: which briefly is
\na firm resolution not to stoop to gather flowers by the way; courage
\nnot to fear the wild beasts, and strength to pass by the mighty and the
\nfrontiers; intent solely on going over the mountains and the strands of
\nthe virtues, in the way just explained.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[59] Luke 11:9<\/p>\n
[60] Cant. 3:1<\/p>\n
[61] Cant. 3:4<\/p>\n
[62] Wisd. 6:13<\/p>\n
[63] Ps. 61:11<\/p>\n
[64] Ps. 33:20<\/p>\n
[65] Ps. 53:5<\/p>\n
[66] Job 41:24<\/p>\n
[67] Eph. 6:11<\/p>\n
[68] Gal. 5:17<\/p>\n
[69] Rom. 8:13
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA IV<\/p>\n
O groves and thickets<\/p>\n
Planted by the hand of the Beloved;<\/p>\n
O verdant meads<\/p>\n
Enameled with flowers,<\/p>\n
Tell me, has He passed by you?<\/p>\n
THE disposition requisite for entering on the spiritual journey,
\nabstinence from joys and pleasure, being now described; and the courage
\nalso with which to overcome temptations and trials, wherein consists
\nthe practice of self-knowledge, which is the first step of the soul to
\nthe knowledge of God. Now, in this stanza the soul begins to advance
\nthrough consideration and knowledge of creatures to the knowledge of
\nthe Beloved their Creator. For the consideration of the creature, after
\nthe practice of self-knowledge, is the first in order on the spiritual
\nroad to the knowledge of God, Whose grandeur and magnificence they
\ndeclare, as the Apostle says: ?For His invisible things from the
\ncreation of the world are seen, being understood by these things that
\nare made.? [70] It is as if he said, ?The invisible things of God are
\nmade known to the soul by created things, visible and invisible.?<\/p>\n
2. The soul, then, in this stanza addresses itself to creatures
\ninquiring after the Beloved. And we observe, as St. Augustine [71]
\nsays, that the inquiry made of creatures is a meditation on the
\nCreator, for which they furnish the matter. Thus, in this stanza the
\nsoul meditates on the elements and the rest of the lower creation; on
\nthe heavens, and on the rest of created and material things which God
\nhas made therein; also on the heavenly Spirits, saying:<\/p>\n
?O groves and thickets.?<\/p>\n
3. The groves are the elements, earth, water, air, and fire. As the
\nmost pleasant groves are studded with plants and shrubs, so the
\nelements are thick with creatures, and here are called thickets because
\nof the number and variety of creatures in each. The earth contains
\ninnumerable varieties of animals and plants, the water of fish, the air
\nof birds, and fire concurs with all in animating and sustaining them.
\nEach kind of animal lives in its proper element, placed and planted
\nthere, as in its own grove and soil where it is born and nourished;
\nand, in truth, God so ordered it when He made them; He commanded the
\nearth to bring forth herbs and animals; the waters and the sea, fish;
\nand the air He gave as a habitation to birds. The soul, therefore,
\nconsidering that this is the effect of His commandment, cries out,<\/p>\n
?Planted by the hand of the Beloved.?<\/p>\n
4. That which the soul considers now is this: the hand of God the
\nBeloved only could have created and nurtured all these varieties and
\nwonderful things. The soul says deliberately, ?by the hand of the
\nBeloved,? because God does many things by the hands of others, as of
\nangels and men; but the work of creation has never been, and never is,
\nthe work of any other hand than His own. Thus the soul, considering the
\ncreation, is profoundly stirred up to love God the Beloved for it
\nbeholds all things to be the work of His hands, and goes on to say:<\/p>\n
?O verdant meads.?<\/p>\n
5. These are the heavens; for the things which He has created in the
\nheavens are of incorruptible freshness, which neither perish nor wither
\nwith time, where the just are refreshed as in the green pastures. The
\npresent consideration includes all the varieties of the stars in their
\nbeauty, and the other works in the heavens.<\/p>\n
6. The Church also applies the term ?verdure? to heavenly things; for
\nwhile praying to God for the departing soul, it addresses it as
\nfollows: ?May Christ, the Son of the living God, give you a place in
\nthe ever-pleasant verdure of His paradise.? [72] The soul also says
\nthat this verdant mead is<\/p>\n
?Enameled with flowers.?<\/p>\n
7. The flowers are the angels and the holy souls who adorn and beautify
\nthat place, as costly and fine enamel on a vase of pure gold.<\/p>\n
?Tell me, has He passed by you<\/p>\n
8. This inquiry is the consideration of the creature just spoken of,
\nand is in effect: Tell me, what perfections has He created in you?
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[70] Rom. 1:20<\/p>\n
[71] Conf. 10. 6.<\/p>\n
[72] Ordo commendationis animae.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA V<\/p>\n
ANSWER OF THE CREATURES<\/p>\n
A thousand graces diffusing<\/p>\n
He passed through the groves in haste,<\/p>\n
And merely regarding them<\/p>\n
As He passed,<\/p>\n
Clothed them with His beauty.<\/p>\n
THIS is the answer of the creatures to the soul which, according to St.
\nAugustine, in the same place, is the testimony which they furnish to
\nthe majesty and perfections of God, for which it asked in its
\nmeditation on created things. The meaning of this stanza is, in
\nsubstance, as follows: God created all things with great ease and
\nrapidity, and left in them some tokens of Himself, not only by creating
\nthem out of nothing, but also by endowing them with innumerable graces
\nand qualities, making them beautiful in admirable order and unceasing
\nmutual dependence. All this He wrought in wisdom, by which He created
\nthem, which is the Word, His only begotten Son. Then the soul says;<\/p>\n
?A thousand graces diffusing.?<\/p>\n
2. These graces are the innumerable multitude of His creatures. The
\nterm ?thousand,? which the soul makes use of, denotes not their number,
\nbut the impossibility of numbering them. They are called grace because
\nof the qualities with which He has endowed them. He is said to diffuse
\nthem because He fills the whole world with them.<\/p>\n
?He passed through the groves in haste.?<\/p>\n
3. To pass through the groves is to create the elements; here called
\ngroves, through which He is said to pass, diffusing a thousand graces,
\nbecause He adorned them with creatures which are all beautiful.
\nMoreover, He diffused among them a thousand graces, giving the power of
\ngeneration and self-conservation. He is said to pass through, because
\nthe creatures are, as it were, traces of the passage of God, revealing
\nHis majesty, power, and wisdom, and His other divine attributes. He is
\nsaid to pass in haste, because the creatures are the least of the works
\nof God: He made them, as it were, in passing. His greatest works,
\nwherein He is most visible and at rest, are the incarnation of the Word
\nand the mysteries of the Christian faith, in comparison with which all
\nHis other works were works wrought in passing and in haste.<\/p>\n
?And thereby regarding them As He passed, Clothed them with His
\nbeauty.?<\/p>\n
4. The son of God is, in the words of St. Paul, ?the brightness of His
\nglory and the figure of His substance.? [73] God saw all things only in
\nthe face of His Son. This was to give them their natural being,
\nbestowing upon them many graces and natural gifts, making them perfect,
\nas it is written in the book of Genesis: ?God saw all the things that
\nHe had made: and they were very good.? [74] To see all things very good
\nwas to make them very good in the Word, His Son. He not only gave them
\ntheir being and their natural graces when He beheld them, but He also
\nclothed them with beauty in the face of His Son, communicating to them
\na supernatural being when He made man, and exalted him to the beauty of
\nGod, and, by consequence, all creatures in him, because He united
\nHimself to the nature of them all in man. For this cause the Son of God
\nHimself said, ?And I, if I be lifted up from the earth will draw all
\nthings to Myself.? [75] And thus in this exaltation of the incarnation
\nof His Son, and the glory of His resurrection according to the flesh,
\nthe Father not only made all things beautiful in part, but also, we may
\nwell say, clothed them wholly with beauty and dignity.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
BUT beyond all this — speaking now of contemplation as it affects the
\nsoul and makes an impression on it — in the vivid contemplation and
\nknowledge of created things the soul beholds such a multiplicity of
\ngraces, powers, and beauty with which God has endowed them, that they
\nseem to it to be clothed with admirable beauty and supernatural virtue
\nderived from the infinite supernatural beauty of the face of God, whose
\nbeholding of them clothed the heavens and the earth with beauty and
\njoy; as it is written: ?You open Your hand and fill with blessing every
\nliving creature.? [76] Hence the soul wounded with love of that beauty
\nof the Beloved which it traces in created things, and anxious to behold
\nthat beauty which is the source of this visible beauty, sings as in the
\nfollowing stanza:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[73] Heb. 1:3<\/p>\n
[74] Gen. 1:31<\/p>\n
[75] John 12:32<\/p>\n
[76] Ps. 144:16
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA VI<\/p>\n
THE BRIDE<\/p>\n
Oh! who can heal me?<\/p>\n
Give me perfectly Yourself,<\/p>\n
Send me no more<\/p>\n
A messenger<\/p>\n
Who cannot tell me what I wish.<\/p>\n
AS created things furnish to the soul traces of the Beloved, and
\nexhibit the impress of His beauty and magnificence, the love of the
\nsoul increases, and consequently the pain of His absence: for the
\ngreater the soul’s knowledge of God the greater its desire to see Him,
\nand its pain when it cannot; and as it sees there is no remedy for this
\npain except in the presence and vision of the Beloved, distrustful of
\nevery other remedy, it prays in this stanza for the fruition of His
\npresence, saying: ?Entertain me no more with any knowledge or
\ncommunications or impressions of Your grandeur, for these do but
\nincrease my longing and the pain of Your absence; Your presence alone
\ncan satisfy my will and desire.? The will cannot be satisfied with
\nanything less than the vision of God, and therefore the soul prays that
\nHe may be pleased to give Himself to it in truth, in perfect love.<\/p>\n
?O! who can heal me<\/p>\n
2. That is, there is nothing in all the delights of the world, nothing
\nin the satisfaction of the senses, nothing in the sweet taste of the
\nspirit that can heal or content me, and therefore it adds:<\/p>\n
?Give me at once Yourself.?<\/p>\n
3. No soul that really loves can be satisfied or content short of the
\nfruition of God. For everything else, as I have just said, not only
\ndoes not satisfy the soul, but rather increases the hunger and thirst
\nof seeing Him as He us. Thus every glimpse of the Beloved, every
\nknowledge and impression or communication from Him — these are the
\nmessengers suggestive of Him — increase and quicken the soul’s desire
\nafter Him, as crumbs of food in hunger stimulate the appetite. The
\nsoul, therefore, mourning over the misery of being entertained by
\nmatters of so little moment, cries out:<\/p>\n
?Give me perfectly Yourself.?<\/p>\n
4. Now all our knowledge of God in this life, however great it may be,
\nis not a perfectly true knowledge of Him, because it is partial and
\nincomplete; but to know Him essentially is true knowledge, and that is
\nit which the soul prays for here, not satisfied with any other kind.
\nHence it says:<\/p>\n
?Send me no more a messenger.?<\/p>\n
5. That is, grant that I may no longer know You in this imperfect way
\nby the messengers of knowledge and impressions, which are so distant
\nfrom that which my soul desires; for these messengers, as You well
\nknow, O my Bridegroom, do but increase the pain of Your absence. They
\nrenew the wound which You have inflicted by the knowledge of You which
\nthey convey, and they seem to delay Your coming. Henceforth send me no
\nmore of these inadequate communications, for if I have been hitherto
\nsatisfied with them, it was owing to the slightness of my knowledge and
\nof my love: now that my love has become great, I cannot satisfy myself
\nwith them; therefore, give me at once Yourself.<\/p>\n
6. This, more clearly expressed, is as follows: ?O Lord my Bridegroom,
\nWho gave me Yourself partially before, give me Yourself wholly now. You
\nwho showed glimpses of Yourself before, show Yourself clearly now. You
\nwho communicated Yourself hitherto by the instrumentality of messengers
\n— it was as if You mocked me — give Yourself by Yourself now.
\nSometimes when You visited me You gave me the pearl of Your possession,
\nand, when I began to examine it, lo, it was gone, for You had hidden it
\nYourself: it was like a mockery. Give me then Yourself in truth, Your
\nwhole self, that I may have You wholly to myself wholly, and send me no
\nmessengers again.?<\/p>\n
?Who cannot tell me what I wish.?<\/p>\n
7. ?I wish for You wholly, and Your messengers neither know You wholly,
\nnor can they speak of You wholly, for there is nothing in earth or
\nheaven that can furnish that knowledge to the soul which it longs for.
\nThey cannot tell me, therefore, what I wish. Instead, then, of these
\nmessengers, be You the messenger and the message.?
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA VII<\/p>\n
All they who serve are telling me<\/p>\n
Of Your unnumbered graces;<\/p>\n
And all wound me more and more,<\/p>\n
And something leaves me dying,<\/p>\n
I know not what, of which they are darkly speaking.<\/p>\n
THE soul describes itself in the foregoing stanza as wounded, or sick
\nwith love of the Bridegroom, because of the knowledge of Him which the
\nirrational creation supplies, and in the present, as wounded with love
\nbecause of the other and higher knowledge which it derives from the
\nrational creation, nobler than the former; that is, angels and men.
\nThis is not all, for the soul says also that it is dying of love,
\nbecause of that marvelous immensity not wholly but partially revealed
\nto it through the rational creation. This it calls ?I know not what,?
\nbecause it cannot be described, and because it is such that the soul
\ndies of it.<\/p>\n
2. It seems, from this, that there are three kinds of pain in the
\nsoul’s love of the Beloved, corresponding to the three kinds of
\nknowledge that can be had of Him. The first is called a wound; not
\ndeep, but slight, like a wound which heals quickly, because it comes
\nfrom its knowledge of the creatures, which are the lowest works of God.
\nThis wounding of the soul, called also sickness, is thus spoken of by
\nthe bride in the Canticle: ?I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if
\nyou find my Beloved, that you tell Him that I languish with love.? [77]
\nThe daughters of Jerusalem are the creatures.<\/p>\n
3. The second is called a sore which enters deeper than a wound into
\nthe soul, and is, therefore, of longer continuance, because it is as a
\nwound festering, on account of which the soul feels that it is really
\ndying of love. This sore is the effect of the knowledge of the works of
\nGod, the incarnation of the Word, and the mysteries of the faith. These
\nbeing the greatest works of God, and involving a greater love than
\nthose of creation, produce a greater effect of love in the soul. If the
\nfirst kind of pain is as a wound, this must be like a festering,
\ncontinuous sore. Of this speaks the Bridegroom, addressing Himself to
\nthe bride, saying: ?You have wounded My heart, My sister, My bride; you
\nhave wounded My heart with one of your eyes, and with one hair of your
\nneck.? [78] The eye signifies faith in the incarnation of the
\nBridegroom, and the one hair is the love of the same.<\/p>\n
4. The third kind of pain is like dying; it is as if the whole soul
\nwere festering because of its wound. It is dying a living death until
\nlove, having slain it, shall make it live the life of love,
\ntransforming it in love. This dying of love is affected by a single
\ntouch of the knowledge of the Divinity; it is the ?I know not what,? of
\nwhich the creatures, as in the stanza is said, are speaking
\nindistinctly. This touch is not continuous nor great, — for then soul
\nand body would part — but soon over, and thus the soul is dying of
\nlove, and dying the more when it sees that it cannot die of love. [79]
\nThis is called impatient love, which is spoken of in the book of
\nGenesis, where the Scripture says that Rachel’s love of children was so
\ngreat that she said to Jacob her husband, ?Give me children, otherwise
\nI shall die.? [80] And the prophet Job said, ?Who will grant that . . .
\nHe that has begun the same would cut me off.? [81]<\/p>\n
5. These two-fold pains of love — that is, the wound and the dying —
\nare in the stanza said to be merely the rational creation. The wound,
\nwhen it speaks of the unnumbered graces of the Beloved in the mysteries
\nand wisdom of God taught by the faith. The dying, when it is said that
\nthe rational creation speaks indistinctly. This is a sense and
\nknowledge of the Divinity sometimes revealed when the soul hears God
\nspoken of. Therefore it says:<\/p>\n
?All they who serve.?<\/p>\n
6. That is, the rational creation, angels and men; for these alone are
\nthey who serve God, understanding by that word intelligent service;
\nthat is to say, all they who serve God. Some serve Him by contemplation
\nand fruition in heaven — these are the angels; others by loving and
\nlonging for Him on earth — these are men. And because the soul learns
\nto know God more distinctly through the rational creation, whether by
\nconsidering its superiority over the rest of creation, or by what it
\nteaches us of God — the angels interiorly by secret inspirations, and
\nmen exteriorly by the truths of Scripture — it says:<\/p>\n
?Telling me of Your unnumbered graces.?<\/p>\n
7. That is, they speak of the wonders of Your grace and mercy in the
\nIncarnation, and in the truths of the faith which they show forth and
\nare ever telling more distinctly; for the more they say, the more do
\nthey reveal Your graces.<\/p>\n
?And all wound me more and more.?<\/p>\n
8. The more the angels inspire me, the more men teach me, the more do I
\nlove You; and thus all wound me more and more with love.<\/p>\n
?And something leaves me dying, I know not what, of which they are
\ndarkly speaking.?<\/p>\n
9. It is as if it said: ?But beside the wound which the creatures
\ninflict when they tell me of Your unnumbered graces, there is yet
\nsomething which remains to be told, one thing unknown to be uttered, a
\nmost clear trace of the footsteps of God revealed to the soul, which it
\nshould follow, a most profound knowledge of God, which is ineffable,
\nand therefore spoken of as I know not what.’? If that which I
\ncomprehend inflicts the wound and festering sore of love, that which I
\ncannot comprehend but yet feel profoundly, kills me.<\/p>\n
10. This happens occasionally to souls advanced, whom God favors in
\nwhat they hear, or see, or understand — and sometimes without these or
\nother means — with a certain profound knowledge, in which they feel or
\napprehend the greatness and majesty of God. In this state they think so
\nhighly of God as to see clearly that they know Him not, and in their
\nperception of His greatness they recognize that not to comprehend Him
\nis the highest comprehension. And thus, one of the greatest favors of
\nGod, bestowed transiently on the soul in this life, is to enable it to
\nsee so distinctly, and to feel so profoundly, that it clearly
\nunderstands it cannot comprehend Him at all. These souls are herein, in
\nsome degree, like the saints in heaven, where they who know Him most
\nperfectly perceive most clearly that He is infinitely incomprehensible,
\nfor those who have the less clear vision, do not perceive so distinctly
\nas the others, how greatly He transcends their vision. This is clear to
\nnone who have not had experience of it. But the experienced soul,
\ncomprehending that there is something further of which it is profoundly
\nsensible, calls it, ?I know not what.? As that cannot be understood, so
\nneither can it be described, though it is felt, as I have said. Hence
\nthe soul says that the creatures speak indistinctly, because they
\ncannot distinctly utter that which they would say: it is the speech of
\ninfants, who cannot explain distinctly or speak intelligibly that which
\nthey would convey to others.<\/p>\n
11. The other creatures, also, are in some measure a revelation to the
\nsoul in this way, but not of an order so high, whenever it is the good
\npleasure of God to manifest to it their spiritual sense and
\nsignificance; they are seemingly on the point of making us understand
\nthe perfections of God, and cannot compass it; it is as if one were
\nabout to explain a matter and the explanation is not given; and thus
\nthey stammer ?I know not what.? The soul continues to complain, and
\naddresses its own life, saying, in the stanza that follows:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[77] Cant. 5:8<\/p>\n
[78] Cant. 4:9<\/p>\n
[79] See Living Flame,’ stanza 3, line 3, sect. 20.<\/p>\n
[80] Gen. 30:1<\/p>\n
[81] Job 6:8, 9
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA VIII<\/p>\n
But how you persevere, O life!<\/p>\n
Not living where you live;<\/p>\n
The arrows bring death<\/p>\n
Which you receive<\/p>\n
From your conceptions of the Beloved.<\/p>\n
THE soul, perceiving itself to be dying of love, as it has just said,
\nand yet not dying so as to have the free enjoyment of its love,
\ncomplains of the continuance of its bodily life, by which the spiritual
\nlife is delayed. Here the soul addresses itself to the life it is
\nliving upon earth, magnifying the sorrows of it. The meaning of the
\nstanza therefore is as follows: ?O life of my soul, how can you
\npersevere in this life of the flesh, seeing that it is your death and
\nthe privation of the true spiritual life in God, in Whom you live in
\nsubstance, love, and desire, more truly than in the body? And if this
\nwere not reason enough to depart, and free yourself from the body of
\nthis death, so as to live and enjoy the life of God, how can you still
\nremain in a body so frail? Besides, these wounds of love made by the
\nBeloved in the revelation of His majesty are by themselves alone
\nsufficient to put an end to your life, for they are very deep; and thus
\nall your feelings towards Him, and all you know of Him, are so many
\ntouches and wounds of love that kill,<\/p>\n
?But how you persevere, O life! Not living where you live.?<\/p>\n
2. We must keep in mind, for the better understanding of this, that the
\nsoul lives there where it loves, rather than in the body which it
\nanimates. The soul does not live by the body, but, on the contrary,
\ngives it life, and lives by love in that which it loves. For beside
\nthis life of love which it lives in God Who loves it, the soul has its
\nradical and natural life in God, like all created things, according to
\nthe saying of St. Paul: ?In Him we live, and move, and are;? [82] that
\nis, our life, motion, and being is in God. St. John also says that all
\nthat was made was life in God: ?That which was made, in Him was life.?
\n[83]<\/p>\n
3. When the soul sees that its natural life is in God through the being
\nHe has given it, and its spiritual life also because of the love it
\nbears Him, it breaks forth into lamentations, complaining that so frail
\na life in a mortal body should have the power to hinder it from the
\nfruition of the true, real, and delicious life, which it lives in God
\nby nature and by love. Earnestly, therefore, does the soul insist upon
\nthis: it tells us that it suffers between two contradictions — its
\nnatural life in the body, and its spiritual life in God; contrary the
\none to the other, because of their mutual repugnance. The soul living
\nthis double life is of necessity in great pain; for the painful life
\nhinders the delicious, so that the natural life is as death, seeing
\nthat it deprives the soul of its spiritual life, wherein is its whole
\nbeing and life by nature, and all its operations and feelings by love.
\nThe soul, therefore, to depict more vividly the hardships of this
\nfragile life, says:<\/p>\n
?The arrows bring death which you receive.?<\/p>\n
4. That is to say: ?Besides, how can you continue in the body, seeing
\nthat the touches of love — these are the arrows — with which the
\nBeloved pierces your heart, are alone sufficient to deprive you of
\nlife These touches of love make the soul and heart so fruitful of the
\nknowledge and love of God, that they may well be called conceptions of
\nGod, as in the words that follow:<\/p>\n
?From your conceptions of the Beloved.?<\/p>\n
5. That is, of the majesty, beauty, wisdom, grace, and power, which you
\nknow to be His.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
AS the hart wounded with a poisoned arrow cannot be easy and at rest,
\nbut seeks relief on all sides, plunging into the waters here and again
\nthere, while the poison spreads notwithstanding all attempts at relief,
\ntill it reaches the heart, and occasions death; so the soul, pierced by
\nthe arrow of love, never ceases from seeking to alleviate its pains.
\nNot only does it not succeed, but its pains increase, let it think, and
\nsay, and do what it may; and knowing this, and that there is no other
\nremedy but the resignation of itself into the hands of Him Who wounded
\nit, that He may relieve it, and effectually slay it through the
\nviolence of its love; it turns towards the Bridegroom, Who is the cause
\nof all, and says:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[82] Acts 17:28<\/p>\n
[83] John 1:3. The Saint adopts an old punctuation, different from the
\nusual one. He reads thus: Omnia per Ipsum facta sunt, et sine Ipso
\nfactum est nihil: Quod factum est, in Ipso vita erat’ (All things were
\nmade by Him, and without Him nothing was made: What was made in Him was
\nlife’).
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA IX<\/p>\n
Why, after wounding<\/p>\n
This heart, have You not healed it?<\/p>\n
And why, after stealing it,<\/p>\n
Have You thus abandoned it,<\/p>\n
And not carried away the stolen prey?<\/p>\n
HERE the soul returns to the Beloved, still complaining of its pain;
\nfor that impatient love which the soul now exhibits admits of no rest
\nor cessation from pain; so it sets forth its griefs in all manner of
\nways until it finds relief. The soul seeing itself wounded and lonely,
\nand as no one can heal it but the Beloved Who has wounded it, asks why
\nHe, having wounded its heart with that love which the knowledge of Him
\nbrings, does not heal it in the vision of His presence; and why He thus
\nabandons the heart which He has stolen through the love Which inflames
\nit, after having deprived the soul of all power over it. The soul has
\nnow no power over its heart — for he who loves has none — because it
\nis surrendered to the Beloved, and yet He has not taken it to Himself
\nin the pure and perfect transformation of love in glory.<\/p>\n
?Why, after wounding this heart, have You not healed it<\/p>\n
2. The enamored soul is complaining not because it is wounded, for the
\ndeeper the wound the greater the joy, but because, being wounded, it is
\nnot healed by being wounded to death. The wounds of love are so
\ndeliciously sweet, that if they do not kill, they cannot satisfy the
\nsoul. They are so sweet that it desires to die of them, and hence it is
\nthat it says, ?Why, after wounding this heart, have You not healed it
\nThat is, ?Why have You struck it so sharply as to wound it so deeply,
\nand yet not healed it by killing it utterly with love? As You are the
\ncause of its pain in the affliction of love, be You also the cause of
\nits health by a death from love; so the heart, wounded by the pain of
\nYour absence, shall be healed in the delight and glory of Your Sweet
\npresence.? Therefore it goes on:<\/p>\n
?And why, after stealing it, have You thus abandoned it<\/p>\n
3. Stealing is nothing else but the act of a robber in dispossessing
\nthe owner of his goods, and possessing them himself. Here the soul
\ncomplains to the Beloved that He has robbed it of its heart lovingly,
\nand taken it out of its power and possession, and then abandoned it,
\nwithout taking it into His own power and possession as the thief does
\nwith the goods he steals, carrying them away with him. He who is in
\nlove is said to have lost his heart, or to have it stolen by the object
\nof his love; because it is no longer in his own possession, but in the
\npower of the object of his love, and so his heart is not his own, but
\nthe property of the person he loves.<\/p>\n
4. This consideration will enable the soul to determine whether it
\nloves God simply or not. If it loves Him it will have no heart for
\nitself, nor for its own pleasure or profit, but for the honor, glory,
\nand pleasure of God; because the more the heart is occupied with self,
\nthe less is it occupied with God. Whether God has really stolen the
\nheart, the soul may ascertain by either of these two signs: Is it
\nanxiously seeking after God? and has it no pleasure in anything but in
\nHim, as the soul here says? The reason of this is that the heart cannot
\nrest in peace without the possession of something; and when its
\naffections are once placed, it has neither the possession of itself nor
\nof anything else; neither does it perfectly possess what it loves. In
\nthis state its weariness is in proportion to its loss, until it shall
\nenter into possession and be satisfied; for until then the soul is as
\nan empty vessel waiting to be filled, as a hungry man eager for food,
\nas a sick man sighing for health, and as a man suspended in the air.<\/p>\n
?And not carried away the stolen prey<\/p>\n
5. ?Why do You not carry away the heart which Your love has stolen, to
\nfill it, to heal it, and to satiate it giving it perfect rest in
\nYourself<\/p>\n
6. The loving soul, for the sake of greater conformity with the
\nBeloved, cannot cease to desire the recompense and reward of its love
\nfor the sake of which it serves the Beloved, otherwise it could not be
\ntrue love, for the recompense of love is nothing else, and the soul
\nseeks nothing else, but greater love, until it reaches the perfection
\nof love; for the sole reward of love is love, as we learn from the
\nprophet Job, who, speaking of his own distress, which is that of the
\nsoul now referred to, says: ?As a servant longs for the shade, as the
\nhireling looks for the end of his work; so I also have had empty
\nmonths, and have numbered to myself wearisome nights. If I sleep, I
\nsay, When shall I arise? and again, I shall look for the evening, and
\nshall be filled with sorrows even till darkness.? [84]<\/p>\n
7. Thus, then, the soul on fire with the love of God longs for the
\nperfection and consummation of its love, that it may be completely
\nrefreshed. As the servant wearied by the heat of the day longs for the
\ncooling shade, and as the hireling looks for the end of his work, so
\nthe soul for the end of its own. Observe, Job does not say that the
\nhireling looks for the end of his labor, but only for the end of his
\nwork. He teaches us that the soul which loves looks not for the end of
\nits labor, but for the end of its work; because its work is to love,
\nand it is the end of this work, which is love, that it hopes for,
\nnamely, the perfect love of God. Until it attains to this, the words of
\nJob will be always true of it — its months will be empty, and its
\nnights wearisome and tedious. It is clear, then, that the soul which
\nloves God seeks and looks for no other reward of its services than to
\nlove God perfectly.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
THE soul, having reached this degree of love, resembles a sick man
\nexceedingly wearied, whose appetite is gone, and to whom his food is
\nloathsome, and all things annoyance and trouble. Amidst all things that
\npresent themselves to his thoughts, or feelings, or sight, his only
\nwish and desire is health; and everything that does not contribute to
\nit is weariness and oppressive. The soul, therefore, in pain because of
\nits love of God, has three peculiarities. Under all circumstances, and
\nin all affairs, the thought of its health — that is, the Beloved — is
\never present to it; and though it is obliged to attend to them because
\nit cannot help it, its heart is ever with Him. The second peculiarity,
\nnamely, a loss of pleasure in everything, arises from the first. The
\nthird also, a consequence of the second, is that all things become
\nwearisome, and all affairs full of vexation and annoyance.<\/p>\n
2. The reason is that the palate of the will having touched and tasted
\nof the food of the love of God, the will instantly, under all
\ncircumstances, regardless of every other consideration, seeks the
\nfruition of the Beloved. It is with the soul now as it was with Mary
\nMagdalene, when in her burning love she sought Him in the garden. She,
\nthinking Him to be the gardener, spoke to Him without further
\nreflection, saying: ?If you have taken Him hence, tell me where you
\nhave laid Him, and I will take Him away.? [85] The soul is under the
\ninfluence of a like anxiety to find Him in all things, and not finding
\nHim immediately, as it desires — but rather the very reverse — not
\nonly has no pleasure in them, but is even tormented by them, and
\nsometimes exceedingly so: for such souls suffer greatly in their
\nintercourse with men and in the transactions of the world, because
\nthese things hinder rather than help them in their search.<\/p>\n
3. The bride in the Canticle shows us that she had these three
\npeculiarities when seeking the Bridegroom. ?I sought Him and found Him
\nnot; the keepers that go about the city found me, they struck me and
\nwounded me: the keepers of the walls took away my cloak.? [86] The
\nkeepers that go about the city are the affairs of this world, which,
\nwhen they ?find? a soul seeking after God, inflict upon it much pain,
\nand grief, and loathing; for the soul not only does not find in them
\nwhat it seeks, but rather a hindrance. They who keep the wall of
\ncontemplation, that the soul may not enter — that is, evil spirits and
\nworldly affairs — take away the cloak of peace and the quiet of loving
\ncontemplation. All this inflicts infinite vexation on the soul enamored
\nof God; and while it remains on earth without the vision of God, there
\nis no relief, great or small, from these afflictions, and the soul
\ntherefore continues to complain to the Beloved, saying:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[84] Job 7:2-4<\/p>\n
[85] John 20:15<\/p>\n
[86] Cant. 6:6, 7
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA X<\/p>\n
Quench my troubles,<\/p>\n
For no one else can soothe them;<\/p>\n
And let my eyes behold You,<\/p>\n
For You are their light,<\/p>\n
And I will keep them for You alone.<\/p>\n
HERE the soul continues to beseech the Beloved to put an end to its
\nanxieties and distress — none other than He can do so — and that in
\nsuch a way that its eyes may behold Him; for He alone is the light by
\nwhich they see, and there is none other but He on whom it will look.<\/p>\n
?Quench my troubles.?<\/p>\n
2. The desire of love has this property, that everything said or done
\nwhich does not become that which the will loves, wearies and annoys it,
\nand makes it peevish when it sees itself disappointed in its desires.
\nThis and its weary longing after the vision of God is here called
\n?troubles.? These troubles nothing can remove except the possession of
\nthe Beloved; hence the soul prays Him to quench them with His presence,
\nto cool their feverishness, as the cooling water him who is wearied by
\nthe heat. The soul makes use of the expression ?quench,? to denote its
\nsufferings from the fire of love.<\/p>\n
?For no one else can soothe them.?<\/p>\n
3. The soul, in order to move and persuade the Beloved to grant its
\npetition, says, ?As none other but You can satisfy my needs, You quench
\nmy troubles.? Remember here that God is then close at hand, to comfort
\nthe soul and to satisfy its wants, when it has and seeks no
\nsatisfaction or comfort out of Him. The soul that finds no pleasure out
\nof God cannot be long unvisited by the Beloved.<\/p>\n
?And let my eyes behold You.?<\/p>\n
4. Let me see You face to face with the eyes of the soul,<\/p>\n
?For you are their light.?<\/p>\n
5. God is the supernatural light of the soul, without which it abides
\nin darkness. And now, in the excess of its affection, it calls Him the
\nlight of its eyes, as an earthly lover, to express his affection, calls
\nthe object of his love the light of his eyes. The soul says in effect
\nin the foregoing terms, ?Since my eyes have no other light, either of
\nnature or of love, but You, let them behold You, Who in every way are
\ntheir light.? David was regretting this light when he said in his
\ntrouble, ?The light of my eyes, and the same is not with me;? [87] and
\nTobit, when he said, ?What manner of joy shall be to me who sit in
\ndarkness, and see not the light of heaven [88] He was longing for the
\nclear vision of God; for the light of heaven is the Son of God; as St.
\nJohn says in the Revelation: ?And the city needs not sun, nor moon to
\nshine in it; for the glory of God has illuminated it, and the Lamb is
\nthe lamp thereof.? [89]<\/p>\n
?And I will keep them for You alone.?<\/p>\n
6. The soul seeks to constrain the Bridegroom to let it see the light
\nof its eyes, not only because it would be in darkness without it, but
\nalso because it will not look upon anything but on Him. For as that
\nsoul is justly deprived of this divine light if it fixes the eyes of
\nthe will on any other light, proceeding from anything that is not God,
\nfor then its vision is confined to that object; so also the soul, by a
\ncertain fitness, deserves the divine light, if it shuts its eyes
\nagainst all objects whatever, to open them only for the vision of God.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
BUT the loving Bridegroom of souls cannot bear to see them suffer long
\nin the isolation of which I am speaking, for, as He says by the mouth
\nof Zachariah, ?He that shall touch you, touches the apple of My eye;?
\n[90] especially when their sufferings, as those of this soul, proceed
\nfrom their love for Him. Therefore does He speak through Isaiah, ?It
\nshall be before they call, I will hear; as they are yet speaking, I
\nwill hear.? [91] And the wise man says that the soul that seeks Him as
\ntreasure shall find Him. [92] God grants a certain spiritual presence
\nof Himself to the fervent prayers of the loving soul which seeks Him
\nmore earnestly than treasure, seeing that it has abandoned all things,
\nand even itself, for His sake.<\/p>\n
2. In that presence He shows certain profound glimpses of His divinity
\nand beauty, whereby He still increases the soul’s anxious desire to
\nbehold Him. For as men throw water on the coals of the forge to cause
\nintenser heat, so our Lord in His dealings with certain souls, in the
\nintermission of their love, makes some revelations of His majesty, to
\nquicken their fervor, and to prepare them more and more for those
\ngraces which He will give them afterwards. Thus the soul, in that
\nobscure presence of God, beholding and feeling the supreme good and
\nbeauty hidden there, is dying in desire of the vision, saying in the
\nstanza that follows:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[87] Ps. 37:11<\/p>\n
[88] Tob. 5:12<\/p>\n
[89] Rev. 21:23<\/p>\n
[90] Zech. 2:8<\/p>\n
[91] Isa. 65:24<\/p>\n
[92] Prov. 2:4, 5
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XI<\/p>\n
Reveal Your presence,<\/p>\n
And let the vision and Your beauty kill me.<\/p>\n
Behold the malady<\/p>\n
Of love is incurable<\/p>\n
Except in Your presence and before Your face.<\/p>\n
THE soul, anxious to be possessed by God, Who is so great, Whose love
\nhas wounded and stolen its heart, and unable to suffer more, beseeches
\nHim directly, in this stanza, to reveal His beauty — that is, the
\ndivine Essence — and to slay it in that vision, separating it from the
\nbody, in which it can neither see nor possess Him as it desires. And
\nfurther, setting before Him the distress and sorrow of heart, in which
\nit continues, suffering it because of its love, and unable to find any
\nother remedy than the glorious vision of the divine essence, cries out:
\n?Reveal Your presence.?<\/p>\n
2. To understand this clearly we must remember that there are three
\nways in which God is present in the soul. The first is His presence in
\nessence, not in holy souls only, but in wretched and sinful souls as
\nwell, and also in all created things; for it is by this presence that
\nHe gives life and being, and were it once withdrawn all things would
\nreturn to nothing. [93] This presence never fails in the soul.<\/p>\n
3. The second is His presence by grace, whereby He dwells in the soul,
\npleased and satisfied with it. This presence is not in all souls; for
\nthose who fall into mortal sin lose it, and no soul can know in a
\nnatural way whether it has it or not. The third is His presence by
\nspiritual affection. God is wont to show His presence in many devout
\nsouls in diverse ways, in refreshment, joy, and gladness; yet this,
\nlike the others, is all secret, for He does not show Himself as He is,
\nbecause the condition of our mortal life does not admit of it. Thus
\nthis prayer of the soul may be understood of any one of them.<\/p>\n
?Reveal Your presence.?<\/p>\n
4. Inasmuch as it is certain that God is ever present in the soul, at
\nleast in the first way, the soul does not say, ?Be present?; but,
\n?Reveal and manifest Your hidden presence, whether natural, spiritual,
\nor affective, in such a way that I may behold You in Your divine
\nessence and beauty.? The soul prays Him that as He by His essential
\npresence gives it its natural being, and perfects it by His presence of
\ngrace, so also He would glorify it by the manifestation of His glory.
\nBut as the soul is now loving God with fervent affections, the
\npresence, for the revelation of which it prays the Beloved to manifest,
\nis to be understood chiefly of the affective presence of the Beloved.
\nSuch is the nature of this presence that the soul felt there was an
\ninfinite being hidden there, out of which God communicated to it
\ncertain obscure visions of His own divine beauty. Such was the effect
\nof these visions that the soul longed and fainted away with the desire
\nof that which is hidden in that presence.<\/p>\n
5. This is in harmony with the experience of David, when he said: ?My
\nsoul longs and faints for the courts of our Lord.? [94] The soul now
\nfaints with desire of being absorbed in the Sovereign Good which it
\nfeels to be present and hidden; for though it is hidden, the soul is
\nmost profoundly conscious of the good and delight which are there. The
\nsoul is therefore attracted to this good with more violence than matter
\nis to its center, and is unable to contain itself, by reason of the
\nforce of this attraction, from saying:<\/p>\n
?Reveal Your presence.?<\/p>\n
6. Moses, on Mount Sinai in the presence of God, saw such glimpses of
\nthe majesty and beauty of His hidden Divinity, that, unable to endure
\nit, he prayed twice for the vision of His glory saying: ?Whereas You
\nhave said: I know you by name, and you have found grace in my sight.
\nIf, therefore, I have found grace in Your sight, show me Your face,
\nthat I may know You and may find grace before Your eyes;? [95] that is,
\nthe grace which he longed for — to attain to the perfect love of the
\nglory of God. The answer of our Lord was: ?You can not see My face, for
\nman shall not see Me and live.? [96] It is as if God had said: ?Moses,
\nyour prayer is difficult to grant; the beauty of My face, and the joy
\nin seeing Me is so great, as to be more than your soul can bear in a
\nmortal body that is so weak.? The soul accordingly, conscious of this
\ntruth, either because of the answer made to Moses or also because of
\nthat which I spoke of before, [97] namely, the feeling that there is
\nsomething still in the presence of God here which it could not see in
\nits beauty in the life it is now living, because, as I said before,
\n[98] it faints when it sees but a glimpse of it. Hence it comes that it
\nanticipates the answer that may be given to it, as it was to Moses, and
\nsays:<\/p>\n
?Let the vision and Your beauty kill me.?<\/p>\n
7. That is, ?Since the vision of You and Your beauty is so full of
\ndelight that I cannot endure, but must die in the act of beholding
\nthem, let the vision and Your beauty kill me.?<\/p>\n
8. Two visions are said to be fatal to man, because he cannot bear them
\nand live. One, that of the basilisk, at the sight of which men are said
\nto die at once. The other is the vision of God; but there is a great
\ndifference between them. The former kills by poison, the other with
\ninfinite health and bliss. It is, therefore, nothing strange for the
\nsoul to desire to die by beholding the beauty of God in order to enjoy
\nHim for ever. If the soul had but one single glimpse of the majesty and
\nbeauty of God, not only would it desire to die once in order to see Him
\nfor ever, as it desires now, but would most joyfully undergo a thousand
\nmost bitter deaths to see Him even for a moment, and having seen Him
\nwould suffer as many deaths again to see Him for another moment.<\/p>\n
9. It is necessary to observe for the better explanation of this line,
\nthat the soul is now speaking conditionally, when it prays that the
\nvision and beauty may slay it; it assumes that the vision must be
\npreceded by death, for if it were possible before death, the soul would
\nnot pray for death, because the desire of death is a natural
\nimperfection. The soul, therefore, takes it for granted that this
\ncorruptible life cannot coexist with the incorruptible life of God, and
\nsays:<\/p>\n
?Let the vision and Your beauty kill me.?<\/p>\n
10. St. Paul teaches this doctrine to the Corinthians when he says: ?We
\nwould not be spoiled, but overclothed, that that which is mortal may be
\nswallowed up of life,? [99] That is, ?we would not be divested of the
\nflesh, but invested with glory.? But reflecting that he could not live
\nin glory and in a mortal body at the same time, he says to the
\nPhilippians: ?having a desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ.?
\n[100]<\/p>\n
11. Here arises this question, Why did the people of Israel of old
\ndread and avoid the vision of God, that they might not die, as it
\nappears they did from the words of Manoah to his wife, ?We shall die
\nbecause we have seen God,? [101] when the soul desires to die of that
\nvision? To this question two answers may be given.<\/p>\n
12. In those days men could not see God, though dying in the state of
\ngrace, because Christ had not come. It was therefore more profitable
\nfor them to live in the flesh, increasing in merit, and enjoying their
\nnatural life, than to be in Limbo, incapable of meriting, suffering in
\nthe darkness and in the spiritual absence of God. They therefore
\nconsidered it a great grace and blessing to live long upon earth.<\/p>\n
13. The second answer is founded on considerations drawn from the love
\nof God. They in those days, not being so confirmed in love, nor so near
\nto God by love, were afraid of the vision: but, now, under the law of
\ngrace, when, on the death of the body, the soul may behold God, it is
\nmore profitable to live but a short time, and then to die in order to
\nsee Him. And even if the vision were withheld, the soul that really
\nloves God will not be afraid to die at the sight of Him; for true love
\naccepts with perfect resignation, and in the same spirit, and even with
\njoy, whatever comes to it from the hands of the Beloved, whether
\nprosperity or adversity — yes, and even chastisements such as He shall
\nbe pleased to send, for, as St. John says, ?perfect charity casts out
\nfear.? [102]<\/p>\n
14. Thus, then, there is no bitterness in death to the soul that loves,
\nwhen it brings with it all the sweetness and delights of love; there is
\nno sadness in the remembrance of it when it opens the door to all joy;
\nnor can it be painful and oppressive, when it is the end of all
\nunhappiness and sorrow, and the beginning of all good. Yes, the soul
\nlooks upon it as a friend and its bride, and exults in the recollection
\nof it as the day of espousals; it yearns for the day and hour of death
\nmore than the kings of the earth for principalities and kingdoms.<\/p>\n
15. It was of this kind of death that the wise man said, ?O death, your
\njudgment is good to the needy man.? [103] If it is good to the needy
\nman, though it does not supply his wants, but on the contrary deprives
\nhim even of what he has, how much more good will it be to the soul in
\nneed of love and which is crying for more, when it will not only not
\nrob it of the love it has already, but will be the occasion of that
\nfullness of love which it yearns for, and is the supply of all its
\nnecessities. It is not without reason, then, that the soul ventures to
\nsay:<\/p>\n
?Let the vision and Your beauty kill me.?<\/p>\n
16. The soul knows well that in the instant of that vision it will be
\nitself absorbed and transformed into that beauty, and be made beautiful
\nlike it, enriched, and abounding in beauty as that beauty itself. This
\nis why David said, ?Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of
\nHis saints,? [104] but that could not be if they did not become
\npartakers of His glory, for there is nothing precious in the eyes of
\nGod except that which He is Himself, and therefore, the soul, when it
\nloves, fears not death, but rather desires it. But the sinner is always
\nafraid to die, because he suspects that death will deprive him of all
\ngood, and inflict upon him all evil; for in the words of David, ?the
\ndeath of the wicked is very evil,? [105] and therefore, as the wise man
\nsays, the very thought of it is bitter: ?O death, how bitter is your
\nmemory to a man that has peace in his riches!? [106] The wicked love
\nthis life greatly, and the next but little, and are therefore afraid of
\ndeath; but the soul that loves God lives more in the next life than in
\nthis, because it lives rather where it loves than where it dwells, and
\ntherefore esteeming but lightly its present bodily life, cries out:
\n?Let the vision and Your beauty kill me.?<\/p>\n
?Behold, the malady of love is incurable, except in Your presence and
\nbefore Your face.?<\/p>\n
17. The reason why the malady of love admits of no other remedy than
\nthe presence and countenance of the Beloved is that the malady of love
\ndiffers from every other sickness, and therefore requires a different
\nremedy. In other diseases, according to sound philosophy, contraries
\nare cured by contraries; but love is not cured but by that which is in
\nharmony with itself. The reason is that the health of the soul consists
\nin the love of God; and so when that love is not perfect, its health is
\nnot perfect, and the soul is therefore sick, for sickness is nothing
\nelse but a failure of health. Thus, that soul which loves not at all is
\ndead; but when it loves a little, however little that may be, it is
\nthen alive, though exceedingly weak and sick because it loves God so
\nlittle. But the more its love increases, the greater will be its
\nhealth, and when its love is perfect, then, too, its health also is
\nperfect. Love is not perfect until the lovers become so on an equality
\nas to be mutually transformed into one another; then love is wholly
\nperfect.<\/p>\n
18. And because the soul is now conscious of a certain adumbration of
\nlove, which is the malady of which it here speaks, yearning to be made
\nlike to Him of whom it is a shadow, that is the Bridegroom, the Word,
\nthe Son of God, Who, as St. Paul says, is the ?splendor of His glory,
\nand the figure of His substance;? [107] and because it is into this
\nfigure it desires to be transformed by love, cries out, ?Behold, the
\nmalady of love is incurable except in Your presence, and in the light
\nof Your Countenance.? The love that is imperfect is rightly called a
\nmalady, because as a sick man is enfeebled and cannot work, so the soul
\nthat is weak in love is also enfeebled and cannot practice heroic
\nvirtue.<\/p>\n
19. Another explanation of these words is this: he who feels this
\nmalady of love — that is, a failure of it — has an evidence in
\nhimself that he has some love, because he ascertains what is deficient
\nin him by that which he possesses. But he who is not conscious of this
\nmalady has evidence therein that he has no love at all, or that he has
\nalready attained to perfect love.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
THE soul now conscious of a vehement longing after God, like a stone
\nrushing to its center, and like wax which has begun to receive the
\nimpression of the seal which it cannot perfectly represent, and
\nknowing, moreover, that it is like a picture lightly sketched, crying
\nfor the artist to finish his work, and having its faith so clear as to
\ntrace most distinctly certain divine glimpses of the majesty of God,
\nknows not what else to do but to turn inward to that faith — as
\ninvolving and veiling the face and beauty of the Beloved — from which
\nit has received those impressions and pledges of love, and which it
\nthus addresses:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[93] See Ascent of Mount Carmel,’ bk. 2, ch. 5, sect. 3.<\/p>\n
[94] Ps. 83:3<\/p>\n
[95] Exod. 33:12, 13<\/p>\n
[96] Exod. 33:20<\/p>\n
[97] Stan. vii. sect. 10.<\/p>\n
[98] Above, sect. 4.<\/p>\n
[99] 2 Cor. 5:4<\/p>\n
[100] Phil. 1:23<\/p>\n
[101] Judg. 13:22<\/p>\n
[102] 1 John 4:18<\/p>\n
[103] Ecclus. 41:3<\/p>\n
[104] Ps. 115:15<\/p>\n
[105] Ps. 33:22<\/p>\n
[106] Ecclus. 41:1<\/p>\n
[107] Heb. 1:3
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XII<\/p>\n
O crystal well!<\/p>\n
O that on Your silvered surface<\/p>\n
You would mirror forth at once<\/p>\n
Those desired eyes<\/p>\n
Which are outlined in my heart.<\/p>\n
THE soul vehemently desiring to be united to the Bridegroom, and seeing
\nthat there is no help or succor in created things, turns towards the
\nfaith, as to that which gives it the most vivid vision of the Beloved,
\nand adopts it as the means to that end. And, indeed, there is no other
\nway of attaining to true union, to the spiritual betrothal of God,
\naccording to the words of Hosea: ?I will betrothe you to Me in faith.?
\n[108] In this fervent desire it cries out in the words of this stanza,
\nwhich are in effect this: ?O faith of Christ, my Bridegroom! Oh that
\nyou would manifest clearly those truths concerning the Beloved,
\nsecretly and obscurely infused — for faith is, as theologians say, an
\nobscure habit — so that your informal and obscure communications may
\nbe in a moment clear; Oh that you would withdraw yourself formally and
\ncompletely from these truths — for faith is a veil over the truths of
\nGod — and reveal them perfectly in glory.? Accordingly it says:<\/p>\n
?O crystal well!?<\/p>\n
2. Faith is called crystal for two reasons: because it is of Christ the
\nBridegroom; because it has the property of crystal, pure in its truths,
\na limpid well clear of error, and of natural forms. It is a well
\nbecause the waters of all spiritual goodness flow from it into the
\nsoul. Christ our Lord, speaking to the woman of Samaria, calls faith a
\nwell, saying, ?The water that I will give him shall become in him a
\nwell of water springing up into life everlasting.? [109] This water is
\nthe Spirit which they who believe shall receive by faith in Him. ?Now
\nthis He said of the Spirit which they who believed in Him should
\nreceive.? [110]<\/p>\n
?Oh that on your silvered surface.?<\/p>\n
3. The articles and definitions of the faith are called silvered
\nsurfaces. In order to understand these words and those that follow, we
\nmust know that faith is compared to silver because of the propositions
\nit teaches us, the truth and substance it involves being compared to
\ngold. This very substance which we now believe, hidden behind the
\nsilver veil of faith, we shall clearly behold and enjoy hereafter; the
\ngold of faith shall be made manifest. Hence the Psalmist, speaking of
\nthis, says: ?If you sleep amidst the lots, the wings of the dove are
\nlaid over with silver, and the hinder parts of the back in the paleness
\nof gold.? [111] That means if we shall keep the eyes of the
\nunderstanding from regarding the things of heaven and of earth — this
\nthe Psalmist calls sleeping in the midst — we shall be firm in the
\nfaith, here called dove, the wings of which are the truths laid over
\nwith silver, because in this life the faith puts these truths before us
\nobscurely beneath a veil. This is the reason why the soul calls them
\nsilvered surface. But when faith shall have been consummated in the
\nclear vision of God, then the substance of faith, the silver veil
\nremoved, will shine as gold.<\/p>\n
4. As the faith gives and communicates to us God Himself, but hidden
\nbeneath the silver of faith, yet it reveals Him none the less. So if a
\nman gives us a vessel made of gold, but covered with silver, he gives
\nus in reality a vessel of gold, though the gold is covered over. Thus,
\nwhen the bride in the Canticle was longing for the fruition of God, He
\npromised it to her so far as the state of this life admitted of it,
\nsaying: ?We will make you chains of gold inlaid with silver.? [112] He
\nthus promised to give Himself to her under the veil of faith. Hence the
\nsoul addresses the faith, saying: ?Oh that on your silvered surface? —
\nthe definitions of faith — ?in which you hide? the gold of the divine
\nrays — which are the desired eyes, — instantly adding:<\/p>\n
?You would mirror forth at once those desired eyes!?<\/p>\n
5. By the eyes are understood, as I have said, the rays and truths of
\nGod, which are set before us hidden and informal in the definitions of
\nthe faith. Thus the words say in substance: ?Oh that you would formally
\nand explicitly reveal to me those hidden truths which You teach
\nimplicitly and obscurely in the definitions of the faith; according to
\nmy earnest desire.? Those truths are called eyes, because of the
\nspecial presence of the Beloved, of which the soul is conscious,
\nbelieving Him to be perpetually regarding it; and so it says:<\/p>\n
?Which are outlined in my heart.?<\/p>\n
6. The soul here says that these truths are outlined in the heart —
\nthat is, in the understanding and the will. It is through the
\nunderstanding that these truths are infused into the soul by faith.
\nThey are said to be outlined because the knowledge of them is not
\nperfect. As a sketch is not a perfect picture, so the knowledge that
\ncomes by faith is not a perfect understanding. The truths, therefore,
\ninfused into the soul by faith are as it were in outline, and when the
\nclear vision shall be granted, then they will be as a perfect and
\nfinished picture, according to the words of the Apostle: ?When that
\nshall come which is perfect, that shall be made void which is in part.?
\n[113] ?That which is perfect? is the clear vision, and ?that which is
\nin part? is the knowledge that comes by faith.<\/p>\n
7. Besides this outline which comes by faith, there is another by love
\nin the soul that loves — that is, in the will — in which the face of
\nthe Beloved is so deeply and vividly pictured, when the union of love
\noccurs, that it may be truly said the Beloved lives in the loving soul,
\nand the loving soul in the Beloved. Love produces such a resemblance by
\nthe transformation of those who love that one may be said to be the
\nother, and both but one. The reason is, that in the union and
\ntransformation of love one gives himself up to the other as his
\npossession, and each resigns, abandons, and exchanges himself for the
\nother, and both become but one in the transformation wrought by love.<\/p>\n
8. This is the meaning of St. Paul when he said, ?I live, now, not I,
\nbut Christ lives in me.? [114] In that He says, ?I live, now, not I,?
\nhis meaning is, that though he lived, yet the life he lived was not his
\nown, because he was transformed in Christ: that his life was divine
\nrather than human; and for that reason, he said it was not he that
\nlived, but Christ Who lived in him. We may therefore say, according to
\nthis likeness of transformation, that his life and the life of Christ
\nwere one by the union of love. This will be perfect in heaven in the
\ndivine life of all those who shall merit the beatific vision; for,
\ntransformed in God, they will live the life of God and not their own,
\nsince the life of God will be theirs. Then they will say in truth. ?We
\nlive, but not we ourselves, for God lives in us.?<\/p>\n
9. Now, this may take place in this life, as in the case of St. Paul,
\nbut not perfectly and completely, though the soul should attain to such
\na transformation of love as shall be spiritual marriage, which is the
\nhighest state it can reach in this life; because all this is but an
\noutline of love compared with the perfect image of transformation in
\nglory. Yet, when this outline of transformation is attained in this
\nlife, it is a grand blessing, because the Beloved is so greatly pleased
\ntherewith. He desires, therefore, that the bride should have Him thus
\ndelineated in her soul, and says to her, ?Put Me as a seal upon your
\nheart, as a seal upon your arm.? [115] The heart here signifies the
\nsoul, wherein God in this life dwells as an impression of the seal of
\nfaith, and the arm is the resolute will, where He is as the impressed
\ntoken of love.<\/p>\n
10. Such is the state of the soul at that time. I speak but little of
\nit, not willing to leave it altogether untouched, though no language
\ncan describe it.<\/p>\n
11. The very substance of soul and body seems to be dried up by thirst
\nafter this living well of God, for the thirst resembles that of David
\nwhen he cried out, ?As the hart longs for the fountains of waters, so
\nmy soul longs for You, O God. My soul has thirsted after the strong
\nliving God; when shall I come and appear before the face of God [116]
\nSo oppressive is this thirst to the soul, that it counts it as nothing
\nto break through the camp of the Philistines, like the valiant men of
\nDavid, to fill its pitcher with ?water out of the cisterns of
\nBethlehem,? [117] which is Christ. The trials of this world, the rage
\nof the devil, and the pains of hell are nothing to pass through, in
\norder to plunge into this fathomless fountain of love.<\/p>\n
12. To this we may apply those words in the Canticle: ?Love is strong
\nas death, jealousy is hard as hell.? [118] It is incredible how
\nvehement are the longings and sufferings of the soul when it sees
\nitself on the point of testing this good, and at the same time sees it
\nwithheld; for the nearer the object desired, the greater the pangs of
\nits denial: ?Before I eat,? says Job, ?I sigh, and as it were
\noverflowing waters so my roaring? [119] and hunger for food. God is
\nmeant here by food; for in proportion to the soul’s longing for food,
\nand its knowledge of God, is the pain it suffers now.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
THE source of the grievous sufferings of the soul at this time is the
\nconsciousness of its own emptiness of God — while it is drawing nearer
\nand nearer to Him — and also, the thick darkness with the spiritual
\nfire, which dry and purify it, that, its purification ended, it may be
\nunited with God. For when God sends not forth a ray of supernatural
\nlight into the soul, He is to it intolerable darkness when He is even
\nnear to it in spirit, for the supernatural light by its very brightness
\nobscures the mere natural light. David referred to this when he said:
\n?Cloud and mist round about Him . . . a fire shall go before Him.?
\n[120] And again: ?He put darkness His covert; His tabernacle is round
\nabout Him, darksome waters in the clouds of the air. Because of the
\nbrightness in His sight the clouds passed, hail and coals of fire.?
\n[121] The soul that approaches God feels Him to be all this more and
\nmore the further it advances, until He shall cause it to enter within
\nHis divine brightness through the transformation of love. But the
\ncomfort and consolations of God are, by His infinite goodness,
\nproportional to the darkness and emptiness of the soul, as it is
\nwritten, ?As the darkness thereof, so also the light thereof.? [122]
\nAnd because He humbles souls and wearies them, while He is exalting
\nthem and making them glorious, He sends into the soul, in the midst of
\nits weariness, certain divine rays from Himself, in such gloriousness
\nand strength of love as to stir it up from its very depths, and to
\nchange its whole natural condition. Thus, the soul, in great fear and
\nnatural awe, addresses the Beloved in the first words of the following
\nstanza, the remainder of which is His answer:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[108] Hos. 2:20<\/p>\n
[109] John 4:14<\/p>\n
[110] John 7:39<\/p>\n
[111] Ps. 67:14<\/p>\n
[112] Cant. 1:10<\/p>\n
[113] 1 Cor. 13:10<\/p>\n
[114] Gal. 2:20<\/p>\n
[115] Cant. 8:6<\/p>\n
[116] Ps. 41:1, 2<\/p>\n
[117] 1 Chr. 11:18<\/p>\n
[118] Cant. 8:6<\/p>\n
[119] Job 3:24<\/p>\n
[120] Ps. 96:2, 3<\/p>\n
[121] Ps. 17:12, 13<\/p>\n
[122] Ps. 138:12
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XIII<\/p>\n
Turn them away, O my Beloved!<\/p>\n
I am on the Wing.<\/p>\n
THE BRIDEGROOM<\/p>\n
Return, My Dove!<\/p>\n
The wounded hart<\/p>\n
Looms on the hill<\/p>\n
In the air of your flight and is refreshed.<\/p>\n
EXPLANATION<\/p>\n
AMID those fervent affections of love, such as the soul has shown in
\nthe preceding stanzas, the Beloved is wont to visit His bride,
\ntenderly, lovingly, and with great strength of love; for ordinarily the
\ngraces and visits of God are great in proportion to the greatness of
\nthose fervors and longings of love which have gone before. And, as the
\nsoul has so anxiously longed for the divine eyes — as in the foregoing
\nstanza — the Beloved reveals to it some glimpses of His majesty and
\nGodhead, according to its desires. These divine rays strike the soul so
\nprofoundly and so vividly that it is rapt into an ecstasy which in the
\nbeginning is attended with great suffering and natural fear. Hence the
\nsoul, unable to bear the ecstasies in a body so frail, cries out, ?Turn
\naway your eyes from me.?<\/p>\n
?Turn them away, O my Beloved!?<\/p>\n
2. That is, ?Your divine eyes, for they make me fly away out of myself
\nto the heights of contemplation, and my natural force cannot bear it.?
\nThis the soul says because it thinks it has escaped from the burden of
\nthe flesh, which was the object of its desires; it therefore prays the
\nBeloved to turn away His eyes; that is, not to show them in the body
\nwhere it cannot bear and enjoy them as it would, but to show them to it
\nin its flight from the body. The Bridegroom at once denies the request
\nand hinders the flight, saying, ?Return, My Dove! for the
\ncommunications I make to you now are not those of the state of glory
\nwherein you desire to be; but return to Me, for I am He Whom you,
\nwounded with love, are seeking, and I, too, as the hart, wounded with
\nyour love, begin to show Myself to you on the heights of contemplation,
\nand am refreshed and delighted by the love which your contemplation
\ninvolves.? The soul then says to the Bridegroom:<\/p>\n
?Turn them away, O my Beloved!?<\/p>\n
3. The soul, because of its intense longing after the divine eyes —
\nthat is, the Godhead — receives interiorly from the Beloved such
\ncommunications and knowledge of God as compel it to cry out, ?Turn them
\naway, O my Beloved!? For such is the wretchedness of our mortal nature,
\nthat we cannot bear — even when it is offered to us — but at the cost
\nof our life, that which is the very life of the soul, and the object of
\nits earnest desires, namely, the knowledge of the Beloved. Thus the
\nsoul is compelled to say, with regard to the eyes so earnestly, so
\nanxiously sought for, and in so many ways — when they become visible
\n— ?Turn them away.?<\/p>\n
4. So great, at times, is the suffering of the soul during these
\necstatic visitations — and there is no other pain which so wrenches
\nthe very bones, and which so oppresses our natural forces — that, were
\nit not for the special interference of God, death would ensue. And, in
\ntruth, such is it to the soul, the subject of these visitations, for it
\nfeels as if it were released from the body and a stranger to the flesh.
\nSuch graces cannot be perfectly received in the body, because the
\nspirit of man is lifted up to the communion of the Spirit of God, Who
\nvisits the soul, and must therefore of necessity be in some measure a
\nstranger to the body. Hence it is that the flesh has to suffer, and
\nconsequently the soul in it, by reason of their union in one person.
\nThe great agony of the soul, therefore, in these visitations, and the
\ngreat fear that overwhelms it when God deals with it in the
\nsupernatural way, [123] force it to cry out, ?Turn them away, O my
\nBeloved!?<\/p>\n
5. But it is not to be supposed, however, that the soul really wishes
\nHim to turn away His eyes; for this is nothing else but the expression
\nof natural awe, as I said before. [124] Yes, rather, cost they what
\nthey may, the soul would not willingly miss these visitations and
\nfavors of the Beloved; for though nature may suffer, the spirit flies
\nto this supernatural recollection in order to enjoy the spirit of the
\nBeloved, the object of its prayers and desires. The soul is unwilling
\nto receive these visitations in the body, when it cannot have the
\nperfect fruition of them, and only in a slight degree and in pain; but
\nit covets them in the flight of the disembodied spirit when it can
\nenjoy them freely. Hence it says, ?Turn them away, my Beloved? — that
\nis, Do not visit me in the flesh.<\/p>\n
?I am on the wing.?<\/p>\n
6. It is as if it said, ?I am taking my flight out of the body, that
\nYou may show them when I shall have left it; they being the cause of my
\nflight out of the body.? For the better understanding of the nature of
\nthis flight we should consider that which I said just now. [125] In
\nthis visitation of the divine Spirit the spirit of the soul is with
\ngreat violence borne upwards into communion with the divine, the body
\nis abandoned, all its acts and senses are suspended, because they are
\nabsorbed in God. Thus the Apostle, St. Paul, speaking of his own
\necstasy, says, ?Whether in the body or out of the body, I cannot tell.?
\n[126] But we are not to suppose that the soul abandons the body, and
\nthat the natural life is destroyed, but only that its actions have then
\nceased.<\/p>\n
7. This is the reason why the body remains insensible in raptures and
\necstasies, and unconscious of the most painful inflictions. These are
\nnot like the swoons and faintings of the natural life, which cease when
\npain begins. They who have not arrived at perfection are liable to
\nthese visitations, for they happen to those who are walking in the way
\nof proficients. They who are already perfect receive these visitations
\nin peace and in the sweetness of love: ecstasies cease, for they were
\nonly graces to prepare them for this greater grace.<\/p>\n
8. This is a fitting place for discussing the difference between
\nraptures, ecstasies, other elevations and subtle flights of the spirit,
\nto which spiritual persons are liable; but, as I intend to do nothing
\nmore than explain briefly this canticle, as I undertook in the
\nprologue, I leave the subject for those who are better qualified than I
\nam. I do this the more readily, because our mother, the blessed Teresa
\nof Jesus, has written admirably on this matter, [127] whose writings I
\nhope in God to see published soon. The flight of the soul in this
\nplace, then, is to be understood of ecstasy, and elevation of spirit in
\nGod. The Beloved immediately says:<\/p>\n
?Return, My Dove.?<\/p>\n
9. The soul was joyfully quitting the body in its spiritual flight,
\nthinking that its natural life was over, and that it was about to enter
\ninto the everlasting fruition of the Bridegroom, and remain with Him
\nwithout a veil between them. He, however, restrains it in its flight,
\nsaying:<\/p>\n
?Return, My Dove.?<\/p>\n
10. It is as if He said, ?O My Dove, in your high and rapid flight of
\ncontemplation, in the love with which you are inflamed, in the
\nsimplicity of your regard? — these are three characteristics of the
\ndove — ?return from that flight in which you aim at the true fruition
\nof Myself — the time is not yet come for knowledge so high — return,
\nand submit yourself to that lower degree of it which I communicate in
\nthis your rapture.?<\/p>\n
?The wounded hart.?<\/p>\n
11. The Bridegroom likens Himself to a hart, for by the hart here He
\nmeans Himself. The hart by nature climbs up to high places, and when
\nwounded hastens to seek relief in the cooling waters. If he hears his
\nconsort moan and sees that she is wounded, he runs to her at once,
\ncomforts, and caresses her. So the Bridegroom now; for, seeing the
\nbride wounded with His love, He, too, hearing her moaning, is wounded
\nHimself with her love; for with lovers the wound of one is the wound of
\nthe other, and they have the same feelings in common. The Bridegroom,
\ntherefore, says in effect: ?Return, my bride, to Me; for as you are
\nwounded with the love of Me, I too, like the hart, am wounded by love
\nfor you. I am like the hart, looming on the top of the hill.? Therefore
\nHe says:<\/p>\n
?Looms on the hill.?<\/p>\n
12. That is, ?on the heights of contemplation, to which you have
\nascended in your flight.? Contemplation is a lofty eminence where God,
\nin this life, begins to communicate Himself to the soul, and to show
\nHimself, but not distinctly. Hence it is said, ?Looms on the hill,?
\nbecause He does not appear clearly. However profound the knowledge of
\nHimself which God may grant to the soul in this life, it is, after all,
\nbut an indistinct vision. We now come to the third property of the
\nhart, the subject of the line that follows:<\/p>\n
?In the air of your flight, and is refreshed.?<\/p>\n
13. The flight is contemplation in the ecstasy spoken of before, [128]
\nand the air is the spirit of love produced in the soul by this flight
\nof contemplation, and this love produced by the flight is here with
\ngreat propriety called ?air,? for the Holy Spirit also is likened to
\nair in the Sacred Writings, because He is the breath of the Father and
\nthe Son. And so as He is there the air of the flight — that is, that
\nHe proceeds by the will from the contemplation and wisdom of the Father
\nand the Son, and is breathed — so here the love of the soul is called
\nair by the Bridegroom, because it proceeds from the contemplation of
\nGod and the knowledge of Him which at this time is possessed by the
\nsoul.<\/p>\n
14. We must observe here that the Bridegroom does not say that He comes
\nat the flight, but at the air of the flight, because properly speaking
\nGod does not communicate Himself to the soul because of that flight,
\nwhich is, as I have said, the knowledge it has of God, but because of
\nthe love which is the fruit of that knowledge. For as love is the union
\nof the Father and the Son, so is it also of God and the soul.<\/p>\n
15. Hence it is that notwithstanding the most profound knowledge of
\nGod, and contemplation itself, together with the knowledge of all
\nmysteries, the soul without love is worth nothing, and can do nothing,
\nas the Apostle says, towards its union with God. [129] In another place
\nhe says, ?Have charity, which is the bond of perfection.? [130] This
\ncharity then and love of the soul make the Bridegroom run to drink of
\nthe fountain of the Bride’s love, as the cooling waters attract the
\nthirsty and the wounded hart, to be refreshed therein.<\/p>\n
?And is refreshed.?<\/p>\n
16. As the air cools and refreshes him who is wearied with the heat, so
\nthe air of love refreshes and comforts him who burns with the fire of
\nlove. The fire of love has this property, the air which cools and
\nrefreshes it is an increase of the fire itself. To him who loves, love
\nis a flame that burns with the desire of burning more and more, like
\nthe flame of material fire. The consummation of this desire of burning
\nmore and more, with the love of the bride, which is the air of her
\nflight, is here called refreshment. The Bridegroom says in substance,
\n?I burn more and more because of the ardor of your flight, for love
\nkindles love.?<\/p>\n
17. God does not establish His grace and love in the soul but in
\nproportion to the good will of that soul’s love. He, therefore, that
\ntruly loves God must strive that his love fail not; for so, if we may
\nthus speak, will he move God to show him greater love, and to take
\ngreater delight in his soul. In order to attain to such a degree of
\nlove, he must practice those things of which the Apostle speaks,
\nsaying: ?Charity is patient, is benign: charity envies not, deals not
\nperversely; is not puffed up, is not ambitious, seeks not her own, is
\nnot provoked to anger, thinks not evil, rejoices not upon iniquity, but
\nrejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes
\nall things, endures all things.? [131]<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
WHEN the dove — that is the soul — was flying on the gale of love
\nover the waters of the deluge of the weariness and longing of its love,
\n?not finding where her foot might rest,? [132] the compassionate father
\nNoah, in this last flight, put forth the hand of his mercy, caught her,
\nand brought her into the ark of his charity and love. That took place
\nwhen the Bridegroom, as in the stanza now explained, said, ?Return, My
\nDove.? In the shelter within the ark, the soul, finding all it desired,
\nand more than it can ever express, begins to sing the praises of the
\nBeloved, celebrating the magnificence which it feels and enjoys in that
\nunion, saying:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[123] See St. Teresa, Life,’ ch. 20 sect. 16, or Las Mordadas,’ 6. ch.
\n11.<\/p>\n
[124] Sect. 1. above.<\/p>\n
[125] Sect. 4. above.<\/p>\n
[126] 2 Cor. 12:3<\/p>\n
[127] See Relation’ 8.<\/p>\n
[128] Sect. 1.<\/p>\n
[129] 1 Cor. 13:2<\/p>\n
[130] Col. 3:14<\/p>\n
[131] 1 Cor. 13:4-7<\/p>\n
[132] Gen. 8:9
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZAS XIV, XV<\/p>\n
THE BRIDE<\/p>\n
My Beloved is the mountains,<\/p>\n
The solitary wooded valleys,<\/p>\n
The strange islands,<\/p>\n
The roaring torrents,<\/p>\n
The whisper of the amorous gales;<\/p>\n
The tranquil night<\/p>\n
At the approaches of the dawn,<\/p>\n
The silent music,<\/p>\n
The murmuring solitude,<\/p>\n
The supper which revives, and enkindles love.<\/p>\n
BEFORE I begin to explain these stanzas, I must observe, in order that
\nthey and those which follow may be better understood, that this
\nspiritual flight signifies a certain high estate and union of love, to
\nwhich, after many spiritual exercises, God is wont to elevate the soul:
\nit is called the spiritual betrothal of the Word, the Son of God. In
\nthe beginning, when this occurs the first time, God reveals to it great
\nthings of Himself, makes it beautiful in majesty and grandeur, adorns
\nit with graces and gifts, and endows it with honor, and with the
\nknowledge of Himself, as a bride is adorned on the day of her
\nbetrothal. On this happy day the soul not only ceases from its
\nanxieties and loving complaints, but is, moreover, adorned with all
\ngrace, entering into a state of peace and delight, and of the sweetness
\nof love, as it appears from these stanzas, in which it does nothing
\nelse but recount and praise the magnificence of the Beloved, which it
\nrecognizes in Him, and enjoys in the union of the betrothal.<\/p>\n
2. In the stanzas that follow, the soul speaks no more of its anxieties
\nand sufferings, as before, but of the sweet and peaceful intercourse of
\nlove with the Beloved; for now all its troubles are over. These two
\nstanzas, which I am about to explain, contain all that God is wont at
\nthis time to bestow upon the soul; but we are not to suppose that all
\nsouls, thus far advanced, receive all that is here described, either in
\nthe same way or in the same degree of knowledge and of consciousness.
\nSome souls receive more, others less; some in one way, some in another;
\nand yet all may be in the state of spiritual betrothal. But in this
\nstanza the highest possible is spoken of, because that embraces all.<\/p>\n
EXPLANATION<\/p>\n
3. As in the ark of Noah there were many chambers for the different
\nkinds of animals, as the Sacred Writings tell us, and ?all food that
\nmay be eaten,? [133] so the soul, in its flight to the divine ark of
\nthe bosom of God, sees therein not only the many mansions of which our
\nLord speaks, but also all the food, that is, all the magnificence in
\nwhich the soul may rejoice, and which are here referred to by the
\ncommon terms of these stanzas. These are substantially as follows:<\/p>\n
4. In this divine union the soul has a vision and foretaste of abundant
\nand inestimable riches, and finds there all the repose and refreshment
\nit desired; it attains to the secrets of God, and to a strange
\nknowledge of Him, which is the food of those who know Him most; it is
\nconscious of the awful power of God beyond all other power and might,
\ntastes of the wonderful sweetness and delight of the Spirit, finds its
\ntrue rest and divine light, drinks deeply of the wisdom of God, which
\nshines forth in the harmony of the creatures and works of God; it feels
\nitself filled with all good, emptied, and delivered from all evil, and,
\nabove all, rejoices consciously in the inestimable banquet of love
\nwhich confirms it in love. This is the substance of these two stanzas.<\/p>\n
5. The bride here says that her Beloved in Himself and to her is all
\nthe objects she enumerates; for in the ecstatic communications of God
\nthe soul feels and understands the truth of the saying of St. Francis:
\n?God is mine and all things are mine.? And because God is all, and the
\nsoul, and the good of all, the communication in this ecstasy is
\nexplained by the consideration that the goodness of the creatures
\nreferred to in these stanzas is a reflection of His goodness, as will
\nappear from every line thereof. All that is here set forth is in God
\neminently in an infinite way, or rather, every one of these grandeurs
\nis God, and all of them together are God. Inasmuch as the soul is one
\nwith God, it feels all things to be God according to the words of St.
\nJohn: ?What was made, in Him was life.? [134]<\/p>\n
6. But we are not to understand this consciousness of the soul as if it
\nsaw the creatures in God as we see material objects in the light, but
\nthat it feels all things to be God in this fruition of Him; neither are
\nwe to imagine that the soul sees God essentially and clearly because it
\nhas so deep a sense of Him; for this is only a strong and abundant
\ncommunication from Him, a glimmering light of what He is in Himself, by
\nwhich the soul discerns this goodness of all things, as I proceed to
\nexplain.<\/p>\n
?My Beloved is the mountains.?<\/p>\n
7. Mountains are high fertile, extensive, beautiful, lovely, flowery,
\nand odorous. These mountains my Beloved is to me.<\/p>\n
?The solitary wooded valleys.?<\/p>\n
8. Solitary valleys are tranquil, pleasant, cooling, shady, abounding
\nin sweet waters, and by the variety of trees growing in them, and by
\nthe melody of the birds that frequent them, enliven and delight the
\nsenses; their solitude and silence procure us a refreshing rest. These
\nvalleys my Beloved is to me.<\/p>\n
?The strange islands.?<\/p>\n
9. Strange islands are girt by the sea; they are also, because of the
\nsea, distant and unknown to the commerce of men. They produce things
\nvery different from those with which we are conversant, in strange
\nways, and with qualities hitherto unknown, so as to surprise those who
\nbehold them, and fill them with wonder. Thus, then, by reason of the
\ngreat and marvelous wonders, and the strange things that come to our
\nknowledge, far beyond the common notions of men, which the soul beholds
\nin God, it calls Him the strange islands. We say of a man that he is
\nstrange for one of two reasons: either because he withdraws himself
\nfrom the society of his fellows, or because he is singular or
\ndistinguished in his life and conduct. For these two reasons together
\nGod is called strange by the soul. He is not only all that is strange
\nin undiscovered islands, but His ways, judgments, and works are also
\nstrange, new, and marvelous to men.<\/p>\n
10. It is nothing wonderful that God should be strange to men who have
\nnever seen Him, seeing that He is also strange to the holy angels and
\nthe souls who see Him; for they neither can nor shall ever see Him
\nperfectly. Yes, even to the day of the last judgment they will see in
\nHim so much that is new in His deep judgments, in His acts of mercy and
\njustice, as to excite their wonder more and more. Thus God is the
\nstrange islands not to men only, but to the angels also; only to
\nHimself is He neither strange nor new.<\/p>\n
?The roaring torrents.?<\/p>\n
11. Torrents have three properties. 1. They overflow all that is in
\ntheir course. 2. They fill all hollows. 3. They overpower all other
\nsounds by their own. And hence the soul, feeling most sweetly that
\nthese three properties belong to God, says, ?My Beloved is the roaring
\ntorrents.?<\/p>\n
12. As to the first property of which the soul is conscious, it feels
\nitself to be so overwhelmed with the torrent of the Spirit of God, and
\nso violently overpowered by it, that all the waters in the world seem
\nto it to have surrounded it, and to have drowned all its former actions
\nand passions. Though all this is violent, yet there is nothing painful
\nin it, for these rivers are rivers of peace, as it is written, God,
\nspeaking through Isaiah, saying, ?I will decline upon her, as it were,
\na flood of peace, and as a torrent overflowing glory.? [135] That is,
\n?I will bring upon the soul, as it were, a river of peace, and a
\ntorrent overflowing with glory.? Thus this divine overflowing, like
\nroaring torrents, fills the soul with peace and glory. The second
\nproperty the soul feels is that this divine water is now filling the
\nvessels of its humility and the emptiness of its desires, as it is
\nwritten: ?He has exalted the humble, and filled the hungry with good.?
\n[136] The third property of which the soul is now conscious in the
\nroaring torrents of the Beloved is a spiritual sound and voice
\noverpowering all other sounds and voices in the world. The explanation
\nof this will take a little time.<\/p>\n
13. This voice, or this murmuring sound of the waters, is an
\noverflowing so abundant as to fill the soul with good, and a power so
\nmighty seizing upon it as to seem not only the sound of many waters,
\nbut a most loud roaring of thunder. But the voice is a spiritual voice,
\nunattended by material sounds or the pain and torment of them, but
\nrather with majesty, power, might, delight, and glory: it is, as it
\nwere, a voice, an infinite interior sound which endows the soul with
\npower and might. The Apostles heard in spirit this voice when the Holy
\nSpirit descended upon them in the sound ?as of a mighty wind,? [137] as
\nwe read in the Acts of the Apostles. In order to manifest this
\nspiritual voice, interiorly spoken, the sound was heard exteriorly, as
\nof a rushing wind, by all those who were in Jerusalem. This exterior
\nmanifestation reveals what the Apostles interiorly received, namely,
\nfullness of power and might.<\/p>\n
14. So also when our Lord Jesus prayed to the Father because of His
\ndistress and the rage of His enemies, He heard an interior voice from
\nheaven, comforting Him in His Sacred Humanity. The sound, solemn and
\ngrave, was heard exteriorly by the Jews, some of whom said that it
\nthundered: others said, ?An angel has spoken to Him.? [138] The voice
\noutwardly heard was the outward sign and expression of that strength
\nand power which Christ then inwardly received in His human nature. We
\nare not to suppose that the soul does not hear in spirit the spiritual
\nvoice because it is also outwardly heard. The spiritual voice is the
\neffect on the soul of the audible voice, as material sounds strike the
\near, and impress the meaning of it on the mind. This we learn from
\nDavid when he said, ?He will give to His voice the voice of strength;?
\n[139] this strength is the interior voice. He will give to His voice —
\nthat is, the outward voice, audibly heard — the voice of strength
\nwhich is felt within. God is an infinite voice, and communicating
\nHimself thus to the soul produces the effect of an infinite voice.<\/p>\n
15. This voice was heard by St. John, saying in the Revelation, ?I
\nheard a voice from heaven as the voice of many waters, and as the voice
\nof great thunder.? And, lest it should be supposed that a voice so
\nstrong was distressing and harsh, he adds immediately, ?The voice which
\nI heard was as the voice of harpers harping on their harps.? [140]
\nEzekiel says that this sound as of many waters was ?as it were the
\nsound of the High God,? [141] profoundly and sweetly communicated in
\nit. This voice is infinite, because, as I have said, it is God Who
\ncommunicates Himself, speaking in the soul; but He adapts Himself to
\neach soul, uttering the voice of strength according to its capacity, in
\nmajesty and joy. And so the bride sings in the Canticle: ?Let Your
\nvoice sound in my ears, for Your voice is sweet.? [142]<\/p>\n
?The whisper of the amorous gales.?<\/p>\n
16. Two things are to be considered here — gales and whisper. The
\namorous gales are the virtues and graces of the Beloved, which, because
\nof its union with the Bridegroom, play around the soul, and, most
\nlovingly sent forth, touch it in their own substance. The whisper of
\nthe gales is a most sublime and sweet knowledge of God and of His
\nattributes, which overflows into the understanding from the contact of
\nthe attributes of God with the substance of the soul. This is the
\nhighest delight of which the soul is capable in this life.<\/p>\n
17. That we may understand this the better, we must keep in mind that
\nas in a gale two things are observable — the touch of it, and the
\nwhisper or sound — so there are two things observable also in the
\ncommunications of the Bridegroom — the sense of delight, and the
\nunderstanding of it. As the touch of the air is felt in the sense of
\ntouch, and the whisper of it heard in the ear, so also the contact of
\nthe perfections of the Beloved is felt and enjoyed in the touch of the
\nsoul — that is, in the substance thereof, through the instrumentality
\nof the will; and the knowledge of the attributes of God felt in the
\nhearing of the soul — that is, in the understanding.<\/p>\n
18. The gale is said to blow amorously when it strikes deliciously,
\nsatisfying his desire who is longing for the refreshing which it
\nministers; for it then revives and soothes the sense of touch, and
\nwhile the sense of touch is thus soothed, that of hearing also rejoices
\nand delights in the sound and whisper of the gale more than the touch
\nin the contact of the air, because the sense of hearing is more
\nspiritual, or, to speak with greater correctness, is more nearly
\nconnected with the spiritual than is that of touch, and the delight
\nthereof is more spiritual than is that of the touch. So also, inasmuch
\nas this touch of God greatly satisfies and comforts the substance of
\nthe soul, sweetly fulfilling its longing to be received into union;
\nthis union, or touch, is called amorous gales, because, as I said
\nbefore, the perfections of the Beloved are by it communicated to the
\nsoul lovingly and sweetly, and through it the whisper of knowledge to
\nthe understanding. It is called whisper, because, as the whisper of the
\nair penetrates subtly into the organ of hearing, so this most subtle
\nand delicate knowledge enters with marvelous sweetness and delight into
\nthe inmost substance of the soul, which is the highest of all delights.<\/p>\n
19. The reason is that substantial knowledge is now communicated
\nintelligibly, and stripped of all accidents and images, to the
\nunderstanding, which philosophers call passive or passible, because
\ninactive without any natural efforts of its own during this
\ncommunication. This is the highest delight of the soul, because it is
\nin the understanding, which is the seat of fruition, as theologians
\nteach, and fruition is the vision of God. Some theologians think,
\ninasmuch as this whisper signifies the substantial intelligence, that
\nour father Elijah had a vision of God in the delicate whisper of the
\nair, which he heard on the mount at the mouth of the cave. The Holy
\nScripture calls it ?the whistling of a gentle wind,? [143] because
\nknowledge is begotten in the understanding by the subtle and delicate
\ncommunication of the Spirit. The soul calls it here the whisper of the
\namorous gales, because it flows into the understanding from the loving
\ncommunication of the perfections of the Beloved. This is why it is
\ncalled the whisper of the amorous gales.<\/p>\n
20. This divine whisper which enters in by the ear of the soul is not
\nonly substantial knowledge, but a manifestation also of the truths of
\nthe Divinity, and a revelation of the secret mysteries thereof. For in
\ngeneral, in the Holy Scriptures, every communication of God said to
\nenter in by the ear is a manifestation of pure truths to the
\nunderstanding, or a revelation of the secrets of God. These are
\nrevelations on purely spiritual visions, and are communicated directly
\nto the soul without the intervention of the senses, and thus, what God
\ncommunicates through the spiritual ear is most profound and most
\ncertain. When St. Paul would express the greatness of the revelations
\nmade to him, he did not say, ?I saw or I perceived secret words,? but
\n?I heard secret words which it is not granted to man to utter.? [144]
\nIt is thought that St. Paul also saw God, as our father Elijah, in the
\nwhisper of a gentle air. For as ?faith comes by hearing? — so the
\nApostle teaches — that is, by the hearing of the material ear, so also
\nthat which the faith teaches, the intelligible truth, comes by
\nspiritual hearing.<\/p>\n
21. The prophet Job, speaking to God, when He revealed Himself to him,
\nteaches the same doctrine, saying, ?With the hearing of the ear I have
\nheard You, but now my eye sees You.? [145] It is clear, from this, that
\nto hear with the ear of the soul is to see with the eye of the passive
\nunderstanding. He does not say, ?I heard with the hearing of my ears,?
\nbut ?with the hearing of my ear?; nor, ?with the seeing of my eyes,?
\nbut ?with the eye of my understanding?; the hearing of the soul is,
\ntherefore, the vision of the understanding.<\/p>\n
22. Still, we are not to think that what the soul perceives, though
\npure truth, can be the perfect and clear fruition of Heaven. For though
\nit is free from accidents, as I said before, [146] it is dim and not
\nclear, because it is contemplation, which in this life, as St.
\nDionysius says, ?is a ray of darkness,? [147] and thus we may say that
\nit is a ray and an image of fruition, because it is in the
\nunderstanding, which is the seat of fruition. This substantial truth,
\ncalled here a whisper, is the ?eyes desired? which the Beloved showed
\nto the bride, who, unable to bear the vision, cried, ?Turn them away, O
\nmy Beloved.? [148]<\/p>\n
23. There is a passage in the book of Job which greatly confirms what I
\nhave said of rapture and betrothal, and, because I consider it to be
\nmuch to the purpose, I will give it here, though it may delay us a
\nlittle, and explain those portions of it which belong to my subject.
\nThe explanation shall be short, and when I shall have made it, I shall
\ngo on to explain the other stanza. The passage is as follows: ?To me
\nthere was spoken a secret word,? said Eliphaz the Themanite, ?and, as
\nit were, my ear by stealth received the veins of its whisper. In the
\nhorror of a vision by night, when deep sleep is wont to hold men, fear
\nheld me and trembling, and all my bones were made sore afraid: and when
\nthe spirit passed before me the hair of my flesh stood upright. There
\nstood one whose countenance I knew not, an image before my eyes, and I
\nheard the voice, as it were, of a gentle wind.? [149]<\/p>\n
24. This passage contains almost all I said about rapture in the
\nthirteenth stanza, where the bride says: ?Turn them away, O my
\nBeloved.? The ?word spoken in secret? to Eliphaz is that secret
\ncommunication which by reason of its greatness the soul was not able to
\nendure, and, therefore, cried out: ?Turn them away, O my Beloved.?
\nEliphaz says that his ?ear as it were by stealth received the veins of
\nits whisper.? By that is meant the pure substance which the
\nunderstanding receives, for the ?veins? here denote the interior
\nsubstance. The whisper is that communication and touch of the virtues
\nwhereby the said substance is communicated to the understanding. It is
\ncalled a whisper because of its great gentleness. And the soul calls it
\nthe amorous gales because it is lovingly communicated. It is said to be
\nreceived as it were by stealth, for as that which is stolen is
\nalienated, so this secret is alien to man, speaking in the order of
\nnature, because that which he received does not appertain to him
\nnaturally, and thus it was not lawful for him to receive it; neither
\nwas it lawful for St. Paul to repeat what he heard. For this reason the
\nprophet says twice, ?My secret to myself, my secret to myself.? [150]<\/p>\n
25. When Eliphaz speaks of the horror of the vision by night, and of
\nthe fear and trembling that seized upon him, he refers to the awe and
\ndread that comes upon the soul naturally in rapture, because in its
\nnatural strength it is unable, as I said before, [151] to endure the
\ncommunication of the Spirit of God. The prophet gives us to understand
\nthat, as when sleep is about to fall upon men, a certain vision which
\nthey call a nightmare is wont to oppress and terrify them in the
\ninterval between sleeping and waking, which is the moment of the
\napproach of sleep, so in the spiritual passage between the sleep of
\nnatural ignorance and the waking of the supernatural understanding,
\nwhich is the beginning of an ecstasy or rapture, the spiritual vision
\nthen revealed makes the soul fear and tremble.<\/p>\n
26. ?All my bones were affrighted?; that is, were shaken and disturbed.
\nBy this he meant a certain dislocation of the bones which takes place
\nwhen the soul falls into an ecstasy. This is clearly expressed by
\nDaniel when he saw the angel, saying, ?O my lord, at the sight of you
\nmy joints are loosed.? [152] ?When the spirit passed before me? — that
\nis, ?When my spirit was made to transcend the ways and limitations of
\nnature in ecstasies and raptures? — ?the hair of my flesh stood
\nupright?; that is, ?my body was chilled, and the flesh contracted, like
\nthat of a dead man.?<\/p>\n
27. ?There stood One? — that is God, Who reveals Himself after this
\nmanner — ?Whose countenance knew not?: in these communications or
\nvisions, however high they may be, the soul neither knows nor beholds
\nthe face and being of God. ?An image before my eyes?; that is, the
\nknowledge of the secret words was most deep, as it were the image and
\nface of God; but still this is not the essential vision of God. ?I
\nheard the voice, as it were, of a gentle wind?; this is the whisper of
\nthe amorous gales — that is, of the Beloved of the soul.<\/p>\n
28. But it is not to be supposed that these visits of God are always
\nattended by such terrors and distress of nature: that happens to them
\nonly who are entering the state of illumination and perfection, and in
\nthis kind of communication; for in others they come with great
\nsweetness.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[133] Gen. 6:21<\/p>\n
[134] John 1:3, 4. See Stanza viii.<\/p>\n
[135] Isa. 66:12<\/p>\n
[136] Luke 1:52<\/p>\n
[137] Acts 2:2<\/p>\n
[138] John 12:29<\/p>\n
[139] Ps. 67:34<\/p>\n
[140] Rev. 14:2<\/p>\n
[141] Ezek. 1:24<\/p>\n
[142] Cant. 2:14<\/p>\n
[143] 1 Kings 19:12<\/p>\n
[144] 2 Cor. 12:4<\/p>\n
[145] Job 42:5<\/p>\n
[146] Sect. 20.<\/p>\n
[147] De Mystica Theologia,’ ch. i.<\/p>\n
[148] Cant. 6:4<\/p>\n
[149] Job 4:12-16<\/p>\n
[150] Isa. 24:16<\/p>\n
[151] Stan. xiii. sect. 1.<\/p>\n
[152] Dan. 10:16
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XV<\/p>\n
?THE tranquil night.? In this spiritual sleep in the bosom of the
\nBeloved the soul is in possession and fruition of all the calm, repose,
\nand quiet of a peaceful night, and receives at the same time in God a
\ncertain dim, unfathomable divine intelligence. This is the reason why
\nit says that the Beloved is to it the tranquil night.<\/p>\n
2. ?At the approaches of the dawn.? This tranquil night is not like a
\nnight of darkness, but rather like the night when the sunrise is
\ndrawing nigh. This tranquillity and repose in God is not all darkness
\nto the soul, as the dark night is, but rather tranquillity and repose
\nin the divine light and in a new knowledge of God, whereby the mind,
\nmost sweetly tranquil, is raised to a divine light.<\/p>\n
3. This divine light is here very appropriately called the approaches
\nof the dawn, that is, the twilight; for as the twilight of the morn
\ndisperses the darkness of the night and reveals the light of day, so
\nthe mind, tranquil and reposing in God, is raised up from the darkness
\nof natural knowledge to the morning light of the supernatural knowledge
\nof God; not clear, indeed, as I have said, but dim, like the night at
\nthe approaches of the dawn. For as it is then neither wholly night nor
\nwholly day, but, as they say, twilight, so this solitude and divine
\nrepose is neither perfectly illumined by the divine light nor yet
\nperfectly alien from it.<\/p>\n
4. In this tranquillity the understanding is lifted up in a strange way
\nabove its natural comprehension to the divine light: it is like a man
\nwho, after a profound sleep, opens his eyes to unexpected light. This
\nknowledge is referred to by David when he says, ?I have watched, and am
\nbecome as the lonely sparrow on the housetop?; [153] that is, ?I opened
\nthe eyes of my understanding and was raised up above all natural
\ncomprehension, lonely, without them, on the housetop, lifted up above
\nall earthly considerations.? He says that he was ?become as the lonely
\nsparrow,? because in this kind of contemplation, the spirit has the
\nproperties of the sparrow. These are five in number:<\/p>\n
i. It frequents in general high places; and the spirit, in this state,
\nrises to the highest contemplation.<\/p>\n
ii. It is ever turning its face in the direction of the wind, and the
\nspirit turns its affections thither whence comes the spirit of love,
\nwhich is God.<\/p>\n
iii. It is in general solitary, abstaining from the companionship of
\nothers, and flying away when any approach it: so the spirit, in
\ncontemplation, is far away from all worldly thoughts, lonely in its
\navoidance of them; neither does it consent to anything except to this
\nsolitude in God.<\/p>\n
iv. It sings most sweetly, and so also does the spirit at this time
\nsing to God; for the praises which it offers up proceed from the
\nsweetest love, most pleasing to itself, and most precious in the sight
\nof God.<\/p>\n
v. It is of no definite color; so also is the perfect spirit, which in
\nthis ecstasy is not only without any tinge of sensual affection or
\nself-love, but also without any particular consideration of the things
\nof heaven or earth; neither can it give any account whatever of them,
\nbecause it has entered into the abyss of the knowledge of God.<\/p>\n
?The silent music.?<\/p>\n
5. In this silence and tranquillity of the night, and in this knowledge
\nof the divine light, the soul discerns a marvelous arrangement and
\ndisposition of God’s wisdom in the diversities of His creatures and
\noperations. All these, and each one of them, have a certain
\ncorrespondence with God, whereby each, by a voice peculiar to itself,
\nproclaims what there is in itself of God, so as to form a concert of
\nsublimest melody, transcending all the harmonies of the world. This is
\nthe silent music, because it is knowledge tranquil and calm, without
\naudible voice; and thus the sweetness of music and the repose of
\nsilence are enjoyed in it. The soul says that the Beloved is silent
\nmusic, because this harmony of spiritual music is in Him understood and
\nfelt. He is not this only, He is also —<\/p>\n
?The murmuring solitude.?<\/p>\n
6. This is almost the same as the silent music. For though the music is
\ninaudible to the senses and the natural powers, it is a solitude most
\nfull of sound to the spiritual powers. These powers being in solitude,
\nemptied of all forms and natural apprehensions, may well receive in
\nspirit, like a resounding voice, the spiritual impression of the
\nmajesty of God in Himself and in His creatures; as it happened to St.
\nJohn, who heard in spirit as it were ?the voice of harpers harping on
\ntheir harps.? [154] St. John heard this in spirit: it was not material
\nharps that he heard, but a certain knowledge that he had of the praises
\nof the blessed, which every one of them, each in his own degree of
\nglory, is continually singing before God. It is as it were music. For
\nas every one of the saints had the gifts of God in a different way, so
\nevery one of them sings His praises in a different way, and yet all
\nharmonize in one concert of love, as in music.<\/p>\n
7. In the same way, in this tranquil contemplation, the soul beholds
\nall creatures, not only the highest, but the lowest also, each one
\naccording to the gift of God to it, sending forth the voice of its
\nwitness to what God is. It beholds each one magnifying Him in its own
\nway, and possessing Him according to its particular capacity; and thus
\nall these voices together unite in one strain in praise of God’s
\ngreatness, wisdom, and marvelous knowledge. This is the meaning of
\nthose words of the Holy Spirit in the Book of Wisdom: ?The Spirit of
\nour Lord has replenished the whole world, and that which contains all
\nthings has the knowledge of the voice.? [155] ?The voice? is the
\nmurmuring solitude, which the soul is said to know, namely, the witness
\nwhich all things bear to God. Inasmuch as the soul hears this music
\nonly in solitude and in estrangement from all outward things, it calls
\nit silent music and murmuring solitude. These are the Beloved.<\/p>\n
?The supper which revives, and enkindles love.?<\/p>\n
8. Lovers find recreation, satisfaction, and love in feasts. And
\nbecause the Beloved in this sweet communication produces these three
\neffects in the soul, He is here said to be the supper that revives, and
\nenkindles love. In Holy Scripture supper signifies the divine vision,
\nfor as supper is the conclusion of the day’s labors, and the beginning
\nof the night’s repose, so the soul in this tranquil knowledge is made
\nto feel that its trials are over, the possession of good begun, and its
\nlove of God increased. Hence, then, the Beloved is to the soul the
\nsupper that revives, in being the end of its trials, and that enkindles
\nlove, in being the beginning of the fruition of all good.<\/p>\n
9. That we may see more clearly how the Bridegroom is the supper of the
\nsoul, we must refer to those words of the Beloved in the Revelation:
\n?Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If any man shall hear My voice,
\nand open to Me the gate, I will enter into him, and will sup with him,
\nand he with Me.? [156] It is evident from these words that He brings
\nthe supper with Him, which is nothing else but His own sweetness and
\ndelights, wherein He rejoices Himself, and which He, uniting Himself to
\nthe soul, communicates to it, making it a partaker of His joy: for this
\nis the meaning of ?I will sup with him, and he with Me.? These words
\ndescribe the effect of the divine union of the soul with God, wherein
\nit shares the very goods of God Himself, Who communicates them
\ngraciously and abundantly to it. Thus the Beloved is Himself the supper
\nwhich revives, and enkindles love, refreshing the soul with His
\nabundance, and enkindling its love in His graciousness.<\/p>\n
10. But before I proceed to explain the stanzas which follow, I must
\nobserve that, in the state of betrothal, wherein the soul enjoys this
\ntranquillity, and wherein it receives all that it can receive in this
\nlife, we are not to suppose its tranquillity to be perfect, but that
\nthe higher part of it is tranquil; for the sensual part, except in the
\nstate of spiritual marriage, never loses all its imperfect habits, and
\nits powers are never wholly subdued, as I shall show hereafter. [157]
\nWhat the soul receives now is all that it can receive in the state of
\nbetrothal, for in that of the marriage the blessings are greater.
\nThough the bride-soul has great joy in these visits of the Beloved in
\nthe state of betrothal, still it has to suffer from His absence, to
\nendure trouble and afflictions in the lower part, and at the hands of
\nthe devil. But all this ceases in the state of spiritual marriage.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
THE bride now in possession of the virtues in their perfection, whereby
\nshe is ordinarily rejoicing in peace when the Beloved visits her, is
\nnow and then in the fruition of the fragrance and sweetness of those
\nvirtues in the highest degree, because the Beloved touches them within
\nher, just as the sweetness and beauty of the lilies and other flowers
\nwhen in their bloom are perceived when we handle them. For in many of
\nthese visits the soul discerns within itself all its virtues which God
\nhas given it; He shedding light upon them. The soul now, with marvelous
\njoy and sweetness of love, binds them together and presents them to the
\nBeloved as a nosegay of beautiful flowers, and the Beloved in accepting
\nthem — for He truly accepts them then — accepts thereby a great
\nservice. All this takes place within the soul, feeling that the Beloved
\nis within it as on His own couch, for the soul presents itself with the
\nvirtues which is the greatest service it can render Him, and thus this
\nis one of the greatest joys which in its interior conversation with God
\nthe soul is wont to receive in presents of this kind made to the
\nBeloved.<\/p>\n
2. The devil, beholding this prosperity of the soul, and in his great
\nmalice envying all the good he sees in it, now uses all his power, and
\nhas recourse to all his devices, in order to thwart it, if possible,
\neven in the slightest degree. He thinks it of more consequence to keep
\nback the soul, even for an instant, from this abundance, bliss, and
\ndelight, than to make others fall into many and mortal sins. Other
\nsouls have little or nothing to lose, while this soul has much, having
\ngained many and great treasures; for the loss of one grain of refined
\ngold is greater than the loss of many of the baser metals.<\/p>\n
3. The devil here has recourse to the sensual appetites, though now
\nthey can give him generally but little or no help because they are
\nmortified, and because he cannot turn them to any great account in
\ndistracting the imagination. Sometimes he stirs up many movements in
\nthe sensitive part of the soul, and causes other vexations, spiritual
\nas well as sensual, from which the soul is unable to deliver itself
\nuntil our Lord shall send His angel, as it is written, ?The angel of
\nthe Lord shall put in himself about them that fear Him, and shall
\ndeliver them;? [158] and so establish peace, both in the spiritual and
\nsensitive parts of the soul. With a view to show forth this truth, and
\nto ask this favor, the soul, apprehensive by experience of the craft
\nwhich the devil makes use of to thwart this good, addressing itself to
\nthe angels, whose function it is to succor it at this time by putting
\nthe evil spirits to flight, speaks as in the following stanza:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[153] Ps. 101:8<\/p>\n
[154] Rev. 14:2<\/p>\n
[155] Wisd. 1:7<\/p>\n
[156] Rev. 3:20<\/p>\n
[157] Stanza xxvi.<\/p>\n
[158] Ps. 33:8
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XVI<\/p>\n
Catch us the foxes,<\/p>\n
For our vineyard has flourished;<\/p>\n
While of roses<\/p>\n
We make a nosegay,<\/p>\n
And let no one appear on the hill.<\/p>\n
THE soul, anxious that this interior delight of love, which is the
\nflowers of the vineyard, should not be interrupted, either by envious
\nand malicious devils, or the raging desires of sensuality, or the
\nvarious comings and goings of the imagination, or any other
\nconsciousness or presence of created things, calls upon the angels to
\nseize and hinder all these from interrupting its practice of interior
\nlove, in the joy and sweetness of which the soul and the Son of God
\ncommunicate and delight in the virtues and graces.<\/p>\n
?Catch us the foxes, for our vineyard has flourished.?<\/p>\n
2. The vineyard is the plantation in this holy soul of all the virtues
\nwhich minister to it the wine of sweet taste. The vineyard of the soul
\nis then flourishing when it is united in will to the Bridegroom, and
\ndelights itself in Him in all the virtues. Sometimes, as I have just
\nsaid, the memory and the fancy are assailed by various forms and
\nimaginings, and diverse motions and desires trouble the sensual part.
\nThe great variety and diversity of these made David say, when he felt
\nthe inconvenience and the trouble of them as he was drinking of the
\nsweet wine of the spirit, thirsting greatly after God: ?For You my soul
\nhas thirsted, for You my flesh, O how many ways.? [159]<\/p>\n
3. Here the soul calls the whole troop of desires and stirrings of
\nsense, foxes, because of the great resemblance between them at this
\ntime. As foxes pretend to be asleep that they may pounce upon their
\nprey when it comes in their way, so all the desires and powers of sense
\nin the soul are asleep until the flowers of virtue grow, flourish, and
\nbloom. Then the desires and powers of sense awake to resist the Spirit
\nand domineer. ?The flesh lusts against the spirit,? [160] and as the
\ninclination of it is towards the sensual desires, it is disgusted as
\nsoon as it tastes of the Spirit, and herein the desires prove extremely
\ntroublesome to spiritual sweetness.<\/p>\n
?Catch us the foxes.?<\/p>\n
4. The evil spirits now molest the soul in two ways. They vehemently
\nexcite the desires, and employ them with other imaginations to assail
\nthe peaceful and flourishing kingdom of the soul. Then — and this is
\nmuch worse — when they do not succeed in stirring up the desires, they
\nassail the soul with bodily pains and noises in order to distract it.
\nAnd, what is still more serious, they fight with spiritual horror and
\ndread, and sometimes with fearful torments, which, at this time, if God
\npermits them, they can most effectually bring about, for inasmuch as
\nthe soul is now spiritually detached, so as to perform its spiritual
\nexercises, the devil being himself a spirit presents himself before it
\nwith great ease.<\/p>\n
5. At other times the evil spirit assails the soul with other horrors,
\nbefore it begins to have the fruition of the sweet flowers, when God is
\nbeginning to draw it forth out of the house of sense that it may enter
\non the interior exercises in the garden of the Bridegroom, for he knows
\nwell that once entered into this state of recollection it is there so
\nprotected that, notwithstanding all he can do, he cannot hurt it. Very
\noften, too, when the devil goes forth to meet the soul, the soul
\nbecomes quickly recollected in the secret depths of its interior, where
\nit finds great sweetness and protection; then those terrors of Satan
\nare so far off that they not only produce no fear, but are even the
\noccasion of peace and joy. The bride, in the Canticle, speaks of these
\nterrors, saying, ?My soul troubled me for the chariots of Aminadab.?
\n[161] Aminadab is the evil spirit, and his chariots are his assaults
\nupon the soul, which he makes with great violence, noise, and
\nconfusion.<\/p>\n
6. The bride also says what the soul says here, namely: ?Catch us the
\nlittle foxes that destroy the vineyards; for our vineyard has
\nflourished.? [162] She does not say, ?Catch me? but ?Catch us,? because
\nshe is speaking of herself and the Beloved; for they are one, and enjoy
\nthe flourishing of the vineyard together.<\/p>\n
7. The reason why the vineyard is said to be flourishing and not
\nbearing fruit is this: the soul in this life has the fruition of
\nvirtues, however perfect they may be, only in their flower, because the
\nfruit of them is reserved for the life to come.<\/p>\n
?While of roses we make a nosegay.?<\/p>\n
8. Now, at this time, while the soul is rejoicing in the flourishing of
\nthe vineyard, and delighting itself in the bosom of the Beloved, all
\nits virtues are perfect, exhibiting themselves to the soul, and sending
\nforth great sweetness and delight. The soul feels them to be in itself
\nand in God so as to seem to be one vineyard most flourishing and
\npleasing belonging to both, wherein they feed and delight. Then the
\nsoul binds all its virtues together, makes acts of love in each of them
\nseparately, and in all together, and then offers them all to the
\nBeloved, with great tenderness of love and sweetness, and in this the
\nBeloved helps it, for without His help and favor it cannot make this
\nunion and oblation of virtue to the Beloved. Hence it says, ?We make a
\nnosegay? — that is ?the Beloved and myself.?<\/p>\n
9. This union of the virtues is called a nosegay; for as a nosegay is
\ncone-like in form, and a cone is strong, containing and embracing many
\npieces firmly joined together, so this cone-like nosegay of the virtues
\nwhich the soul makes for the Beloved is the uniform perfection of the
\nsoul which firmly and solidly contains and embraces many perfections,
\ngreat virtues, and rich endowments; for all the perfections and virtues
\nof the soul unite together to form but one. And while this perfection
\nis being accomplished, and when accomplished, offered to the Beloved on
\nthe part of the soul, it becomes necessary to catch the foxes that they
\nmay not hinder this mutual interior communication. The soul prays not
\nonly that this nosegay may be carefully made, but also adds, ?And let
\nno one appear on the hill.?<\/p>\n
10. This divine interior exercise requires solitude and detachment from
\nall things, whether in the lower part of the soul, which is that of
\nsense, or in the higher, which is the rational. These two divisions
\ncomprise all the faculties and senses of man, and are here called the
\nhill; because all our natural notions and desires being in them, as
\nquarry on a hill, the devil lies in wait among these notions and
\ndesires, in order that he may injure the soul.<\/p>\n
?And let no one appear on the hill.?<\/p>\n
11. That is, let no representation or image of any object whatever,
\nappertaining to any of these faculties or senses, appear in the
\npresence of the soul and the Bridegroom: in other words, let the
\nspiritual powers of the soul, memory, understanding, and will, be
\ndivested of all notions, particular inclinations, or considerations
\nwhatsoever; and let all the senses and faculties of the body, interior
\nas well as exterior, the imagination, the fancy, the sight and hearing,
\nand the rest, be divested of all occasions of distractions, of all
\nforms, images, and representations, and of all other natural
\noperations.<\/p>\n
12. The soul speaks in this way because it is necessary for the perfect
\nfruition of this communication of God, that all the senses and powers,
\nboth interior and exterior, should be disencumbered and emptied of
\ntheir proper objects and operations; for the more active they are, the
\ngreater will be the hindrance which they will occasion. The soul having
\nattained to a certain interior union of love, the spiritual faculties
\nof it are no longer active, and still less those of the body; for now
\nthat the union of love is actually wrought in love, the faculties of
\nthe soul cease from their exertions, because now that the goal is
\nreached all employment of means is at an end. What the soul at this
\ntime has to do is to wait lovingly upon God, and this waiting is love
\nin a continuation of unitive love. Let no one, therefore, appear on the
\nhill, but the will only waiting on the Beloved in the offering up of
\nself and of all the virtues in the way described.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
FOR the clearer understanding of the following stanza, we must keep in
\nmind that the absence of the Beloved, from which the soul suffers in
\nthe state of spiritual betrothal, is an exceedingly great affliction,
\nand at times greater than all other trials whatever. The reason is
\nthis: the love of the soul for God is now so vehement and deep that the
\npain of His absence is vehement and deep also. This pain is increased
\nalso by the annoyance which comes from intercourse with creatures,
\nwhich is very great; for the soul, under the pressure of its quickened
\ndesire of union with God, finds all other conversation most painful and
\ndifficult to endure. It is like a stone in its flight to the place
\nwhither it is rapidly tending; every obstacle it meets with occasions a
\nviolent shock. And as the soul has tasted of the sweetness of the
\nBeloved’s visits, which are more desirable than gold and all that is
\nbeautiful, it therefore dreads even a momentary absence, and addresses
\nitself as follows to aridities, and to the Spirit of the Bridegroom: —
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[159] Ps. 62:2<\/p>\n
[160] Gal. 5:17<\/p>\n
[161] Cant. 6:11<\/p>\n
[162] Cant. 2:15
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XVII<\/p>\n
O killing north wind, cease!<\/p>\n
Come, south wind, that awakens love!<\/p>\n
Blow through my garden,<\/p>\n
And let its odors flow,<\/p>\n
And the Beloved shall feed among the flowers.<\/p>\n
BESIDE the causes mentioned in the foregoing stanza, spiritual dryness
\nalso hinders the fruition of this interior sweetness of which I have
\nbeen speaking, and afraid of it the soul had recourse to two
\nexpedients, to which it refers in the present stanza. The first is to
\nshut the door against it by unceasing prayer and devotion. The second,
\nto invoke the Holy Spirit; it is He Who drives away dryness from the
\nsoul, maintains and increases its love of the Bridegroom — that He may
\nestablish in it the practice of virtue, and all this to the end that
\nthe Son of God, its Bridegroom, may rejoice and delight in it more and
\nmore, for its only aim is to please the Beloved.<\/p>\n
?Killing north wind, cease.?<\/p>\n
2. The north wind is exceedingly cold; it dries up and parches flowers
\nand plants, and at the least, when it blows, causes them to draw in and
\nshrink. So, dryness of spirit and the sensible absence of the Beloved,
\nbecause they produce the same effect on the soul, exhausting the
\nsweetness and fragrance of virtue, are here called the killing north
\nwind; for all the virtues and affective devotions of the soul are then
\ndead. Hence the soul addresses itself to it, saying, ?Killing north
\nwind, cease.? These words mean that the soul applies itself to
\nspiritual exercise, in order to escape aridity. But the communications
\nof God are now so interior that by no exertion of its faculties can the
\nsoul attain to them if the Spirit of the Bridegroom do not cause these
\nmovements of love. The soul, therefore, addresses Him, saying:<\/p>\n
?Come, south wind, that awakens love.?<\/p>\n
3. The south wind is another wind commonly called the south-west wind.
\nIt is soft, and brings rain; it makes the grass and plants grow,
\nflowers to blossom and scatter their perfume abroad; in short, it is
\nthe very opposite in its effects of the north wind. By it is meant here
\nthe Holy Spirit, Who awakens love; for when this divine Breath breathes
\non the soul, it so inflames and refreshes it, so quickens the will, and
\nstirs up the desires, which were before low and asleep as to the love
\nof God, that we may well say of it that it quickens the love between
\nHim and the soul. The prayer of the soul to the Holy Spirit is thus
\nexpressed, ?Blow through my garden.?<\/p>\n
4. This garden is the soul itself. For as the soul said of itself
\nbefore, that it was a flourishing vineyard, because the flowers of
\nvirtue which are in it give forth the wine of sweetness, so here it
\nsays of itself that it is a garden, because the flowers of perfection
\nand the virtues are planted in it, flourish, and grow.<\/p>\n
5. Observe, too, that the expression is ?blow through my garden,? not
\nblow in it. There is a great difference between God’s breathing into
\nthe soul and through it. To breathe into the soul is to infuse into it
\ngraces, gifts, and virtues; to breathe through it is, on the part of
\nGod, to touch and move its virtues and perfections now possessed,
\nrenewing them and stirring them in such a way that they send forth
\ntheir marvelous fragrance and sweetness. Thus aromatic spices, when
\nshaken or touched, give forth the abundant odors which are not
\notherwise so distinctly perceived. The soul is not always in the
\nconscious fruition of its acquired and infused virtues, because, in
\nthis life, they are like flowers in seed, or in bud, or like aromatic
\nspices covered over, the perfume of which is not perceived till they
\nare exposed and shaken.<\/p>\n
6. But God sometimes is so merciful to the bride-soul, as — the Holy
\nSpirit breathing meanwhile through the flourishing garden — to open
\nthese buds of virtue and expose the aromatic herbs of the soul’s gifts,
\nperfections, and riches, to manifest to it its interior treasures and
\nto reveal to it all its beauty. It is then marvelous to behold, and
\nsweet to feel, the abundance of the gifts now revealed in the soul, and
\nthe beauty of the flowers of virtue now flourishing in it. No language
\ncan describe the fragrance which every one of them diffuses, each
\naccording to its kind. This state of the soul is referred to in the
\nwords, ?Let its odors flow.?<\/p>\n
7. So abundant are these odors at times, that the soul seems enveloped
\nin delight and bathed in inestimable bliss. Not only is it conscious
\nitself of them, but they even overflow it, so that those who know how
\nto discern these things can perceive them. The soul in this state seems
\nto them as a delectable garden, full of the joys and riches of God.
\nThis is observable in holy souls, not only when the flowers open, but
\nalmost always; for they have a certain air of grandeur and dignity
\nwhich inspires the beholders with awe and reverence, because of the
\nsupernatural effects of their close and familiar conversation with God.
\nWe have an illustration of this in the life of Moses, the sight of
\nwhose face the people could not bear, by reason of the glory that
\nrested upon it — the effect of his speaking to God face to face. [163]<\/p>\n
8. While the Holy Spirit is breathing through the garden — this is His
\nvisitation of the soul — the Bridegroom Son of God communicates
\nHimself to it in a profound way, enamored of it. It is for this that He
\nsends the Holy Spirit before Him — as He sent the Apostles [164] — to
\nmake ready the chamber of the soul His bride, comforting it with
\ndelight, setting its garden in order, opening its flowers, revealing
\nits gifts, and adorning it with the tapestry of graces. The bride-soul
\nlongs for this with all its might, and therefore bids the north wind
\nnot to blow, and invokes the south wind to blow through the garden,
\nbecause she gains much here at once.<\/p>\n
9. The bride now gains the fruition of all her virtues in their
\nsweetest exercise. She gains the fruition of her Beloved in them,
\nbecause it is through them that He converses with her in most intimate
\nlove, and grants her favors greater than any of the past. She gains,
\ntoo, that her Beloved delights more in her because of the actual
\nexercise of virtue, which is what pleases her most, namely, that her
\nBeloved should be pleased with her. She gains also the permanent
\ncontinuance of the sweet fragrance which remains in the soul while the
\nBridegroom is present, and the bride entertains Him with the sweetness
\nof her virtues, as it is written: ?While the King was at His repose,?
\nthat is, in the soul, ?my spikenard sent forth its odor.? [165] The
\nspikenard is the soul, which from the flowers of its virtues sends
\nforth sweet odors to the Beloved, Who dwells within it in the union of
\nlove.<\/p>\n
10. It is therefore very much to be desired that every soul should pray
\nthe Holy Spirit to blow through its garden, that the divine odors of
\nGod may flow. And as this is so necessary, so blissful and profitable
\nto the soul, the bride desires it, and prays for it, in the words of
\nthe Canticle, saying, ?Arise, north wind, and come, south wind; blow
\nthrough my garden, and let the aromatic spices thereof flow.? [166] The
\nsoul prays for this, not because of the delight and bliss consequent
\nupon it, but because of the delight it ministers to the Beloved, and
\nbecause it prepares the way and announces the presence of the Son of
\nGod, Who comes to rejoice in it. Hence the soul adds:<\/p>\n
?And my Beloved shall feed among the flowers.?<\/p>\n
11. The delight which the Son of God finds now in the soul is described
\nas pasture. This word expresses most forcibly the truth, because
\npasture not only gladdens, but also sustains. Thus the Son of God
\ndelights in the soul, in the delights thereof, and is sustained in them
\n— that is, He abides within it as in a place which pleases Him
\nexceedingly, because the place itself really delights in Him. This, I
\nbelieve, is the meaning of those words recorded in the proverbs of
\nSolomon: ?My delights were to be with the children of men;? [167] that
\nis, when they delight to be with Me, Who am the Son of God.<\/p>\n
12. Observe, here, that it is not said that the Beloved shall feed on
\nthe flowers, but that He shall feed among the flowers. For, as the
\ncommunications of the Beloved are in the soul itself, through the
\nadornment of the virtues, it follows that what He feeds on is the soul
\nwhich He transformed into Himself, now that it is prepared and adorned
\nwith these flowers of virtues, graces, and perfections, which are the
\nthings whereby, and among which, He feeds. These, by the power of the
\nHoly Spirit, are sending forth in the soul the odors of sweetness to
\nthe Son of God, that He may feed there the more in the love thereof;
\nfor this is the love of the Bridegroom, to be united to the soul amid
\nthe fragrance of the flowers.<\/p>\n
13. The bride in the Canticle has observed this, for she had experience
\nof it, saying: ?My Beloved is gone down into His garden, to the bed of
\naromatic spices,<\/p>\n
to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies. I to my Beloved, and my
\nBeloved to me, Who feeds among the lilies.? [168] That is, ?Who feeds
\nand delights in my soul, which is His garden, among the lilies of my
\nvirtues, perfections, and graces.?<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
IN the state of spiritual espousals the soul contemplating its great
\nriches and excellence, but unable to enter into the possession and
\nfruition of them as it desires, because it is still in the flesh, often
\nsuffers exceedingly, and then more particularly when its knowledge of
\nthem becomes more profound. It then sees itself in the body, like a
\nprince in prison, subject to all misery, whose authority is
\ndisregarded, whose territories and wealth are confiscated, and who of
\nhis former substance receives but a miserable dole. How greatly he
\nsuffers anyone may see, especially when his household is no longer
\nobedient, and his slaves and servants, forgetting all respect, plunder
\nhim of the scanty provisions of his table. Thus is it with the soul in
\nthe body, for when God mercifully admits it to a foretaste of the good
\nthings which He has prepared for it, the wicked servants of desire in
\nthe sensual part, now a slave of disorderly motions, now other
\nrebellious movements, rise up against it in order to rob it of its
\ngood.<\/p>\n
2. The soul feels itself as if it were in the land of enemies,
\ntyrannized over by the stranger, like the dead among the dead. Its
\nfeelings are those which the prophet Baruch gave vent to when he
\ndescribed the misery of Jacob’s captivity: ?How happens it, O Israel,
\nthat you are in your enemies’ land? You have grown old in a strange
\ncountry, you are defiled with the dead: you are counted with them that
\ngo down into hell.? [169] This misery of the soul, in the captivity of
\nthe body, is thus spoken of by Jeremiah, saying: ?Is Israel a bondman
\nor a home-born slave? Why then is he become a prey? The lions have
\nroared upon him, and have made a noise.? [170] The lions are the
\ndesires and the rebellious motions of the tyrant king of sensuality. In
\norder to express the trouble which this tyrant occasions, and the
\ndesire of the soul to see this kingdom of sensuality with all its hosts
\ndestroyed, or wholly subject to the spirit, the soul lifting up its
\neyes to the Bridegroom, as to one who can effect it, speaks against
\nthose rebellious motions in the words of the next stanza.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[163] Exod. 34:30<\/p>\n
[164] Luke 22:8<\/p>\n
[165] Cant. 1:11<\/p>\n
[166] Cant. 4:16<\/p>\n
[167] Prov. 8:31<\/p>\n
[168] Cant. 6:1, 2<\/p>\n
[169] Bar. 3:10, 11<\/p>\n
[170] Jer. 2:14, 15
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XVIII<\/p>\n
O nymphs of Judea!<\/p>\n
While amid the flowers and the rose-trees<\/p>\n
The amber sends forth its perfume,<\/p>\n
Tarry in the suburbs,<\/p>\n
And touch not our thresholds.<\/p>\n
IT is the bride that speaks; for seeing herself, as to the higher part
\nof the soul, adorned with the rich endowments of her Beloved, and
\nseeing Him delighting in her, she desires to preserve herself in
\nsecurity, and in the continued fruition of them. Seeing also that
\nhindrances will arise, as in fact they do, from the sensual part of the
\nsoul, which will disturb so great a good, she bids the operations and
\nmotions of the soul’s lower nature to cease, in the senses and
\nfaculties of it, and sensuality not to overstep its boundaries to
\ntrouble and disquiet the higher and spiritual portion of the soul: not
\nto hinder even for a moment the sweetness she enjoys. The motions of
\nthe lower part, and their powers, if they show themselves during the
\nenjoyment of the spirit, are so much more troublesome and disturbing,
\nthe more active they are.<\/p>\n
?O nymphs of Judea.?<\/p>\n
2. The lower, that is the sensual part of the soul, is called Judea. It
\nis called Judea because it is weak, and carnal, and blind, like the
\nJewish people. All the imaginations, fancies, motions, and inclinations
\nof the lower part of the soul are called nymphs, for as nymphs with
\ntheir beauty and attractions entice men to love them, so the operations
\nand motions of sensuality softly and earnestly strive to entice the
\nwill from the rational part, in order to withdraw it from that which is
\ninterior, and to fix it on that which is exterior, to which they are
\nprone themselves. They also strive to influence the understanding to
\njoin with them in their low views, and to bring down reason to the
\nlevel of sense by the attractions of the latter. The soul, therefore,
\nsays in effect: ?O sensual operations and motions.?<\/p>\n
?While amid the flowers and the rose-trees.?<\/p>\n
3. The flowers, as I have said, are the virtues of the soul, and the
\nrose-trees are its powers, memory, understanding, and will, which
\nproduce and nurture the flowers of divine conceptions, acts of love and
\nthe virtues, while the amber sends forth its perfume in the virtues and
\npowers of the soul.<\/p>\n
?The amber sends forth its perfume.?<\/p>\n
4. The amber is the divine spirit of the Bridegroom Who dwells in the
\nsoul. To send forth the perfume among the flowers and the rose-trees,
\nis to diffuse and communicate Himself most sweetly in the powers and
\nvirtues of the soul, thereby filling it with the perfume of divine
\nsweetness. Meanwhile, then, when the Divine Spirit is filling my soul
\nwith spiritual sweetness,<\/p>\n
?Tarry in the suburbs.?<\/p>\n
5. In the suburbs of Judea, which is the inferior or sensual part of
\nthe soul. The suburbs are the interior senses, namely, memory, fancy,
\nand imagination, where forms and images of things collect, by the help
\nof which sensuality stirs up concupiscence and desires. These forms are
\nthe nymphs, and while they are quiet and tranquil the desires are also
\nasleep. They enter into the suburbs of the interior senses by the gates
\nof the outward senses, of sight, hearing, smell, etc. We can thus give
\nthe name of suburbs to all the powers and interior or exterior senses
\nof the sensual part of the soul, because they are outside the walls of
\nthe city.<\/p>\n
6. That part of the soul which may be called the city is that which is
\nmost interior, the rational part, which is capable of conversation with
\nGod, the operations of which are contrary to those of sensuality. But
\nthere is a natural intercourse between those who dwell in the suburbs
\nof the sensual part — that is, the nymphs — and those who dwell in
\nthe higher part, which is the city itself; and, therefore, what takes
\nplace in the lower part is ordinarily felt in the higher, and
\nconsequently compels attention to itself and disturbs the spiritual
\noperation which is conversant with God. Hence the soul bids the nymphs
\ntarry in the suburbs — that is, to remain at rest in the exterior and
\ninterior senses of the sensual part,<\/p>\n
?And touch not our thresholds.?<\/p>\n
7. Let not even your first movements touch the higher part, for the
\nfirst movements of the soul are the entrance and thresholds of it. When
\nthe first movements have passed into the reason, they have crossed the
\nthreshold, but when they remain as first movements only they are then
\nsaid merely to touch the threshold, or to cry at the gate, which is the
\ncase when reason and sense contend over an unreasonable act. The soul
\nhere not only bids these not to touch it, but also charges all
\nconsiderations whatever which do not minister to its repose and the
\ngood it enjoys to keep far away.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
THE soul in this state is become so great an enemy of the lower part,
\nand its operations, that it would have God communicate nothing to it
\nwhen He communicates with the higher. If He will communicate with the
\nlower, it must be in a slight degree, or the soul, because of its
\nnatural weakness, will be unable to endure it without fainting, and
\nconsequently the spirit cannot rejoice in peace, because it is then
\ntroubled. ?For,? as the wise man says, ?the body that is corrupted
\nburdens the soul.? [171] And as the soul longs for the highest and
\nnoblest conversation with God, which is impossible in the company of
\nthe sensual part, it begs of God to deal with it without the
\nintervention of the senses. That sublime vision of St. Paul in the
\nthird heaven, wherein, he says, he saw God, but yet knew not whether he
\nwas in the body or out of the body, must have been, be it what it may,
\nindependent of the body: for if the body had any share in it, he must
\nhave known it, and the vision could not have been what it was, seeing
\nthat he ?heard secret words which it is not lawful for a man to speak.?
\n[172] The soul, therefore, knowing well that graces so great cannot be
\nreceived in a vessel so mean, and longing to receive them out of the
\nbody, — or at least without it, addresses the Bridegroom in the words
\nthat follow:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[171] Wisd. 9:15<\/p>\n
[172] 2 Cor. 12:2-4
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XIX<\/p>\n
Hide yourself, O my Beloved!<\/p>\n
Turn Your face to the mountains,<\/p>\n
Do not speak,<\/p>\n
But regard the companions<\/p>\n
Of her who is traveling amidst strange islands.<\/p>\n
HERE the bride presents four petitions to the Bridegroom. She prays
\nthat He would be pleased to converse with her most interiorly in the
\nsecret chamber of the soul. The second, that He would invest and inform
\nher faculties with the glory and excellence of His Divinity. The third,
\nthat He would converse with her so profoundly as to surpass all
\nknowledge and expression, and in such a way that the exterior and
\nsensual part may not perceive it. The fourth, that He would love the
\nmany virtues and graces which He has implanted in her, adorned with
\nwhich she is ascending upwards to God in the highest knowledge of the
\nDivinity, and in transports of love most strange and singular,
\nsurpassing those of ordinary experience.<\/p>\n
?Hide Yourself, O my Beloved!?<\/p>\n
2. ?O my Bridegroom, most beloved, hide Yourself in the inmost depths
\nof my soul, communicating Yourself to it in secret, and manifesting
\nYour hidden wonders which no mortal eyes may see.<\/p>\n
?Turn Your face to the mountains.?<\/p>\n
3. The face of God is His divinity. The mountains are the powers of the
\nsoul, memory, understanding, and will. Thus the meaning of these words
\nis: Enlighten my understanding with Your Divinity, and give it the
\ndivine intelligence, fill my will with divine love, and my memory with
\ndivine possession of glory. The bride here prays for all that may be
\nprayed for; for she is not content with that knowledge of God once
\ngranted to Moses [173] — the knowledge of Him by His works — for she
\nprays to see the face of God, which is the essential communication of
\nHis Divinity to the soul, without any intervening medium, by a certain
\nknowledge thereof in the Divinity. This is something beyond sense, and
\ndivested of accidents, inasmuch as it is the contact of pure substances
\n— that is, of the soul and the Divinity.<\/p>\n
?Do not speak.?<\/p>\n
4. That is, do not speak as before, when Your conversation with me was
\nknown to the outward senses, for it was once such as to be comprehended
\nby them; it was not so profound but they could fathom it. Now let Your
\nconversation with me be so deep and so substantial, and so interior, as
\nto be above the reach of the senses; for the substance of the spirit is
\nincommunicable to sense, and the communication made through the senses,
\nespecially in this life, cannot be purely spiritual, because the senses
\nare not capable of it. The soul, therefore, longing for that
\nsubstantial and essential communication of God, of which sense cannot
\nbe cognizant, prays the Bridegroom not to speak: that is to say, let
\nthe deep secret of the spiritual union be such as to escape the notice
\nof the senses, like the secret which St. Paul heard, and which it is
\nnot lawful for a man to speak. [174]<\/p>\n
?But regard the companions.?<\/p>\n
5. The regard of God is love and grace. The companions here are the
\nmany virtues of the soul, its gifts, perfections, and other spiritual
\ngraces with which God has endowed it; pledges, tokens, and presents of
\nits betrothal. Thus the meaning of the words seems to be this: ?Turn
\nYour face to the interior of my soul, O my Beloved; be enamored of the
\ntreasures which You have laid up there, so that, enamored of them, You
\nmay hide Yourself among them and there dwell; for in truth, though they
\nare Yours, they are mine also, because You have given them.?<\/p>\n
?Of her who travels amidst strange islands.?<\/p>\n
6. That is, ?Of my soul tending towards You through strange knowledge
\nof You, by strange ways? — strange to sense and to the ordinary
\nperceptions of nature. It is as if the bride said, by way of
\nconstraining Him to yield: ?Seeing that my soul is tending towards You
\nthrough knowledge which is spiritual, strange, unknown to sense, also
\ncommunicate Yourself to it so interiorly and so profoundly that the
\nsenses may not observe it.?<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
IN order to the attainment of a state of perfection so high as this of
\nthe spiritual marriage, the soul that aims at it must not only be
\npurified and cleansed from all the imperfections, rebellions, and
\nimperfect habits of the inferior part, which is now — the old man
\nbeing put away — subject and obedient to the higher, but it must also
\nhave great courage and most exalted love for so strong and close an
\nembrace of God. For in this state the soul not only attains to
\nexceeding pureness and beauty, but also acquires a terrible strength by
\nreason of that strict and close bond which in this union binds it to
\nGod. The soul, therefore, in order to reach this state must have
\npurity, strength, and adequate love. The Holy Spirit, the author of
\nthis spiritual union, desirous that the soul should attain thus far in
\norder to merit it, addresses Himself to the Father and the Son, saying:
\n?Our sister is little, and has no breasts. What shall we do to our
\nsister in the day when she is to be spoken to? If she is a wall, let us
\nbuild upon it bulwarks of silver; if she is a door, let us join it
\ntogether with boards of cedar.? [175]<\/p>\n
2. The ?bulwarks of silver? are the strong heroic virtues comprised in
\nthe faith, which is signified by silver, and these heroic virtues are
\nthose of the spiritual marriage, which are built upon the soul,
\nsignified by the wall, relying on the strength of which, the peaceful
\nBridegroom reposes undisturbed by any infirmities. The ?boards of
\ncedar? are the affections and accessories of this deep love which is
\nsignified by the cedar-tree, and this is the love of the spiritual
\nmarriage. In order ?to join it together,? that is, to adorn the bride,
\nit is necessary she should be the door for the Bridegroom to enter
\nthrough, keeping the door of the will open in a perfect and true
\nconsent of love, which is the consent of the betrothal given previous
\nto the spiritual marriage. The breasts of the bride are also this
\nperfect love which she must have in order to appear in the presence of
\nChrist her Bridegroom for the perfection of such a state.<\/p>\n
3. It is written in the Canticle that the bride in her longing for this
\npresence immediately replied, saying: ?I am a wall: and my breasts are
\nas a tower? — that is, ?My soul is strong, and my love most deep? —
\nthat He may not fail her on that ground. The bride, too, had expressed
\nas much in the preceding stanzas, out of the fullness of her longing
\nfor the perfect union and transformation, and particularly in the last,
\nwherein she set before the Bridegroom all the virtues, graces, and good
\ndispositions with which she was adorned by Him, and that with the
\nobject of making Him the prisoner of her love.<\/p>\n
4. Now the Bridegroom, to bring this matter to a close, replies in the
\ntwo stanzas that follow, which describe Him as perfectly purifying the
\nsoul, strengthening and disposing it, both as to its sensual and
\nspiritual part, for this state, and charging all resistance and
\nrebellion, both of the flesh and of the devil, to cease, saying:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[173] Exod. 33:23<\/p>\n
[174] 2 Cor. 12:4<\/p>\n
[175] Cant. 8:8
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZAS XX, XXI<\/p>\n
THE BRIDEGROOM<\/p>\n
Light-winged birds,<\/p>\n
Lions, fawns, bounding does,<\/p>\n
Mountains, valleys, strands,<\/p>\n
Waters, winds, heat,<\/p>\n
And the terrors that keep watch by night;<\/p>\n
By the soft lyres<\/p>\n
And the siren strains, I adjure you,<\/p>\n
Let your fury cease,<\/p>\n
And touch not the wall,<\/p>\n
That the bride may sleep in greater security.<\/p>\n
HERE the Son of God, the Bridegroom, leads the bride into the enjoyment
\nof peace and tranquillity in the conformity of her lower to her higher
\nnature, purging away all her imperfections, subjecting the natural
\npowers of the soul to reason, and mortifying all her desires, as it is
\nexpressed in these two stanzas, the meaning of which is as follows. In
\nthe first place the Bridegroom adjures and commands all vain
\ndistractions of the fancy and imagination from henceforth to cease, and
\ncontrols the irascible and concupiscible faculties which were
\npreviously the sources of so much affliction. He brings, so far as it
\nis possible in this life, the three powers of memory, understanding,
\nand will to the perfection of their objects, and then adjures and
\ncommands the four passions of the soul, joy, hope, grief, and fear, to
\nbe still, and bids them from henceforth be moderate and calm.<\/p>\n
2. All these passions and faculties are comprehended under the
\nexpressions employed in the first stanza, the operations of which, full
\nof trouble, the Bridegroom subdues by that great sweetness, joy, and
\ncourage which the bride enjoys in the spiritual surrender of Himself to
\nher which God makes at this time; under the influence of which, because
\nGod transforms the soul effectually in Himself, all the faculties,
\ndesires, and movements of the soul lose their natural imperfection and
\nbecome divine.<\/p>\n
?Light-winged birds.?<\/p>\n
3. These are the distractions of the imagination, light and rapid in
\ntheir flight from one subject to another. When the will is tranquilly
\nenjoying the sweet conversation of the Beloved, these distractions
\nproduce weariness, and in their swift flight quench its joy. The
\nBridegroom adjures them by the soft lyres. That is, now that the
\nsweetness of the soul is so abundant and so continuous that they cannot
\ninterfere with it, as they did before when it had not reached this
\nstate, He adjures them, and bids them cease from their disquieting
\nviolence. The same explanation is to be given of the rest of the
\nstanza.<\/p>\n
?Lions, fawns, bounding does.?<\/p>\n
4. By the lions is meant the raging violence of the irascible faculty,
\nwhich in its acts is bold and daring as a lion. The ?fawns and bounding
\ndoes? are the concupiscible faculty — that is, the power of desire,
\nthe qualities of which are two, timidity and rashness. Timidity betrays
\nitself when things do not turn out according to our wishes, for then
\nthe mind retires within itself discouraged, and in this respect the
\nsoul resembles the fawns. For as fawns have the concupiscible faculty
\nstronger than many other animals, so are they more retiring and more
\ntimid. Rashness betrays itself when we have our own way, for the mind
\nis then neither retiring nor timid, but desires boldly, and gratifies
\nall its inclinations. This quality of rashness is compared to the does,
\nwho so eagerly seek what they desire that they not only run, but even
\nleap after it; hence they are described as bounding does.<\/p>\n
5. Thus the Bridegroom, in adjuring the lions, restrains the violence
\nand controls the fury of rage; in adjuring the fawns, He strengthens
\nthe concupiscible faculty against timidity and irresolution; and in
\nadjuring the does He satisfies and subdues the desires which were
\nrestless before, leaping, like deer, from one object to another, to
\nsatisfy that concupiscence which is now satisfied by the soft lyres,
\nthe sweetness of which it enjoys, and by the siren strains, in the
\ndelight of which it revels.<\/p>\n
6. But the Bridegroom does not adjure anger and concupiscence
\nthemselves, because these passions never cease from the soul — but
\ntheir vexations and disorderly acts, signified by the ?lions, fawns,
\nand bounding does,? for it is necessary that these disorderly acts
\nshould cease in this state.<\/p>\n
?Mountains, valleys, strands.?<\/p>\n
7. These are the vicious and disorderly actions of the three faculties
\nof the soul — memory, understanding, and will. These actions are
\ndisorderly and vicious when they are in extremes, or, if not in
\nextreme, tending to one extreme or other. Thus the mountains signify
\nthose actions which are vicious in excess, mountains being high; the
\nvalleys, being low, signify those which are vicious in the extreme of
\ndefect. Strands, which are neither high nor low, but, inasmuch as they
\nare not perfectly level, tend to one extreme or other, signify those
\nacts of the three powers of the soul which depart slightly in either
\ndirection from the true mean and equality of justice. These actions,
\nthough not disorderly in the extreme, as they would be if they amounted
\nto mortal sin, are nevertheless disorderly in part, tending towards
\nvenial sin or imperfection, however slight that tendency may be, in the
\nunderstanding, memory, and will. He adjures also all these actions
\nwhich depart from the true mean, and bids them cease before the soft
\nlyres and the siren strains, which so effectually charm the powers of
\nthe soul as to occupy them completely in their true and proper
\nfunctions, so that they avoid not only all extremes, but also the
\nslightest tendency to them.<\/p>\n
?Waters, winds, heat, and the terrors that keep watch by night.?<\/p>\n
8. These are the affections of the four passions, grief, hope, joy, and
\nfear. The waters are the affections of grief which afflict the soul,
\nfor they rush into it like water. ?Save me, O God,? says the Psalmist,
\n?for the waters have come in even to my soul.? [176] The winds are the
\naffections of hope, for they rush forth like wind, desiring what which
\nis not present but hoped for, as the Psalmist says: ?I opened my mouth
\nand drew breath: because I longed for Your commandments.? [177] That
\nis, ?I opened the mouth of my hope, and drew in the wind of desire,
\nbecause I hoped and longed for Your commandments.? Heat is the
\naffections of joy which, like fire, inflame the heart, as it is
\nwritten: ?My heart waxed hot within me; and in my meditation a fire
\nshall burn?; [178] that is, ?while I meditate I shall have joy.?<\/p>\n
9. The ?terrors that keep watch by night? are the affections of fear,
\nwhich in spiritual persons who have not attained to the state of
\nspiritual marriage are usually exceedingly strong. They come sometimes
\nfrom God when He is going to bestow certain great graces upon souls, as
\nI said before; [179] He is wont then to fill the mind with dread, to
\nmake the flesh tremble and the senses numb, because nature is not made
\nstrong and perfect and prepared for these graces. They come also at
\ntimes from the evil spirit, who, out of envy and malignity, when he
\nsees a soul sweetly recollected in God, labors to disturb its
\ntranquillity by exciting horror and dread, in order to destroy so great
\na blessing, and sometimes utters his threats, as it were in the
\ninterior of the soul. But when he finds that he cannot penetrate within
\nthe soul, because it is so recollected, and so united with God, he
\nstrives at least in the province of sense to produce exterior
\ndistractions and inconstancy, sensible pains and horrors, if perchance
\nhe may in this way disturb the soul in the bridal chamber.<\/p>\n
10. These are called terrors of the night, because they are the work of
\nevil spirits, and because Satan labors, by the help thereof, to involve
\nthe soul in darkness, and to obscure the divine light wherein it
\nrejoices. These terrors are called watchers, because they awaken the
\nsoul and rouse it from its sweet interior slumber, and also because
\nSatan, their author, is ever on the watch to produce them. These
\nterrors strike the soul of persons who are already spiritual,
\npassively, and come either from God or the evil spirit. I do not refer
\nto temporal or natural terrors, because spiritual men are not subject
\nto these, as they are to those of which I am speaking.<\/p>\n
11. The Beloved adjures the affections of these four passions, compels
\nthem to cease and to be at rest, because He supplies the bride now with
\nforce, and courage, and satisfaction, by the soft lyres of His
\nsweetness and the siren strains of His delight, so that not only they
\nshall not domineer over the soul, but shall not occasion it any
\ndistaste whatever. Such is the grandeur and stability of the soul in
\nthis state, that, although formerly the waters of grief overwhelmed it,
\nbecause of its own or other men’s sins — which is what spiritual
\npersons most feel — the consideration of them now excites neither pain
\nnor annoyance; even the sensible feeling of compassion no longer
\nexists, though the effects of it continue in perfection. The weaknesses
\nof its virtues are no longer in the soul, for they are now constant,
\nstrong, and perfect. As the angels perfectly appreciate all sorrowful
\nthings without the sense of pain, and perform acts of mercy without the
\nsentiment of pity, so the soul in this transformation of love. God,
\nhowever, dispenses sometimes, on certain occasions, with the soul in
\nthis matter, allowing it to feel and suffer, that it may become more
\nfervent in love, and grow in merit, or for some other reasons, as He
\ndispensed with His Virgin Mother, St. Paul, and others. This, however,
\nis not the ordinary condition of this state.<\/p>\n
12. Neither do the desires of hope afflict the soul now, because,
\nsatisfied in its union with God, so far as it is possible in this life,
\nit has nothing of this world to hope for, and nothing spiritual to
\ndesire, seeing that it feels itself to be full of the riches of God,
\nthough it may grow in charity, and thus, whether living or dying, it is
\nconformed to the will of God, saying with the sense and spirit, ?Your
\nwill be done,? free from the violence of inclination and desires; and
\naccordingly even its longing for the beatific vision is without pain.<\/p>\n
13. The affections of joy, also, which were wont to move the soul with
\nmore or less vehemence, are not sensibly diminished; neither does their
\nabundance occasion any surprise. The joy of the soul is now so abundant
\nthat it is like the sea, which is not diminished by the rivers that
\nflow out of it, nor increased by those that empty themselves into it;
\nfor the soul is now that fountain of which our Lord said that it is
\n?springing up into life everlasting.? [180]<\/p>\n
14. I have said that the soul receives nothing new or unusual in this
\nstate of transformation; it seems to lose all accidental joy, which is
\nnot withheld even from the glorified. That is, accidental joys and
\nsweetness are indeed no strangers to this soul; indeed, those which it
\nordinarily has cannot be numbered; yet, for all this, as to the
\nsubstantial communication of the spirit, there is no increase of joy,
\nfor that which may occur anew the soul possesses already, and thus what
\nthe soul has already within itself is greater than anything that comes
\nanew. Hence, then, whenever any subject of joy and gladness, whether
\nexterior or spiritually interior, presents itself to the soul, the soul
\nimmediately starts rejoicing in the riches it possesses already within
\nitself, and the joy it has in them is far greater than any which these
\nnew accessions minister, because, in a certain sense, God is become its
\npossession, Who, though He delights in all things, yet in nothing so
\nmuch as in Himself, seeing that He has all good eminently in Himself.
\nThus all accessions of joy serve to remind the soul that its real joy
\nis in its interior possessions, rather than in these accidental causes,
\nbecause, as I have said, the former are greater than the latter.<\/p>\n
15. It is very natural for the soul, even when a particular matter
\ngives it pleasure, that, possessing another of greater worth and
\ngladness, it should remember it at once and take its pleasure in it.
\nThe accidental character of these spiritual accessions, and the new
\nimpressions they make on the soul, may be said to be as nothing in
\ncomparison with that substantial source which it has within itself: for
\nthe soul which has attained to the perfect transformation, and is
\nfull-grown, grows no more in this state by means of these spiritual
\naccessions, as those souls do who have not yet advanced so far. It is a
\nmarvelous thing that the soul, while it receives no accessions of
\ndelight, should still seem to do so and also to have been in possession
\nof them. The reason is that it is always tasting them anew, because
\nthey are ever renewed; and thus it seems to be continually the
\nrecipient of new accessions, while it has no need of them whatever.<\/p>\n
16. But if we speak of that light of glory which in this, the soul’s
\nembrace, God sometimes produces within it, and which is a certain
\nspiritual communion wherein He causes it to behold and enjoy at the
\nsame time the abyss of delight and riches which He has laid up within
\nit, there is no language to express any degree of it. As the sun when
\nit shines upon the sea illumines its great depths, and reveals the
\npearls, and gold, and precious stones therein, so the divine sun of the
\nBridegroom, turning towards the bride, reveals in a way the riches of
\nher soul, so that even the angels behold her with amazement and say:
\n?Who is she that comes forth as the morning rising, fair as the moon,
\nbright as the sun, terrible as the army of a camp set in array.? [181]
\nThis illumination adds nothing to the grandeur of the soul,
\nnotwithstanding its greatness, because it merely reveals that which the
\nsoul already possessed in order that it might rejoice in it.<\/p>\n
17. Finally, the terrors that keep watch by night do not come close to
\nher, because of her pureness, courage, and confident trust in God; the
\nevil spirits cannot shroud her in darkness, nor alarm her with terrors,
\nnor disturb her with their violent assaults. Thus nothing can approach
\nher, nothing can molest her, for she has escaped from all created
\nthings and entered into God, to the fruition of perfect peace,
\nsweetness, and delight, so far as that is possible in this life. It is
\nto this state that the words of Solomon are applicable: ?A secure mind
\nis as it were a continual feast.? [182] As in a feast we have the savor
\nof all meat, and the sweetness of all music, so in this feast, which
\nthe bride keeps in the bosom of her Beloved, the soul rejoices in all
\ndelight, and has the taste of all sweetness. All that I have said, and
\nall that may be said, on this subject, will always fall short of that
\nwhich passes in the soul which has attained to this blessed state. For
\nwhen it shall have attained to the peace of God, ?which,? in the words
\nof the Apostle, ?surpasses all understanding,? [183] no description of
\nits state is possible.<\/p>\n
?By the soft lyres and the siren strains I adjure you.?<\/p>\n
18. The soft lyres are the sweetness which the Bridegroom communicates
\nto the soul in this state, and by which He makes all its troubles to
\ncease. As the music of lyres fills the soul with sweetness and delight,
\ncarries it rapturously out of itself, so that it forgets all its
\nweariness and grief, so in like manner this sweetness so absorbs the
\nsoul that nothing painful can reach it. The Bridegroom says, in
\nsubstance: ?By that sweetness which I give you, let all your bitterness
\ncease.? The siren strains are the ordinary joys of the soul. These are
\ncalled siren strains because, as it is said, the music of the sirens is
\nso sweet and delicious that he who hears it is so rapt and so carried
\nout of himself that he forgets everything. In the same way the soul is
\nso absorbed in, and refreshed by, the delight of this union that it
\nbecomes, as it were, charmed against all the vexations and troubles
\nthat may assail it; it is to these the next words of the stanza refer:<\/p>\n
?Let your fury cease.?<\/p>\n
19. This is the troubles and anxieties which flow from unruly acts and
\naffections. As anger is a certain violence which disturbs peace,
\noverlapping its bounds, so also all these affections in their motions
\ntransgress the bounds of the peace and tranquillity of the soul,
\ndisturbing it whenever they touch it. Hence the Bridegroom says:<\/p>\n
?And touch not the wall.?<\/p>\n
20. The wall is the territory of peace and the fortress of virtue and
\nperfections, which are the defenses and protection of the soul. The
\nsoul is the garden wherein the Beloved feeds among the flowers,
\ndefended and guarded for Him alone. Hence it is called in the Canticle
\n?a garden enclosed.? [184] The Bridegroom bids all disorderly emotions
\nnot to touch the territory and wall of His garden.<\/p>\n
21. ?That the bride may sleep in greater security.? That is, that she
\nis delighting herself with more sweetness in the tranquillity and
\nsweetness she has in the Beloved. That is to say, that now no door is
\nshut against the soul, and that it is in its power to abandon itself
\nwhenever it wills to this sweet sleep of love, according to the words
\nof the Bridegroom in the Canticle, ?I adjure you, O daughters of
\nJerusalem, by the roes and the harts of the fields, that you raise not
\nup nor make the beloved to awake till herself will.? [185]<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
THE Bridegroom was so anxious to rescue His bride from the power of the
\nflesh and the devil and to set her free, that, having done so, He
\nrejoices over her like the good shepherd who, having found the sheep
\nthat was lost, laid it upon his shoulders rejoicing; like the woman
\nwho, having found the money she had lost, after lighting a candle and
\nsweeping the house, called ?together her friends and neighbors, saying,
\nRejoice with me.? [186] So this loving Shepherd and Bridegroom of souls
\nshows a marvelous joy and delight when He beholds a soul gained to
\nperfection lying on His shoulders, and by His hands held fast in the
\nlonged-for embrace and union. He is not alone in His joy, for He makes
\nthe angels and the souls of the blessed partakers of His glory, saying,
\nas in the Canticle, ?Go forth, you daughters of Zion, and see king
\nSolomon in the diadem with which his mother crowned him in the day of
\nhis betrothal, and in the day of the joy of his heart.? [187] He calls
\nthe soul His crown, His bride, and the joy of His heart: He carries it
\nin His arms, and as a bridegroom leads it into His bridal chamber, as
\nwe shall see in the following stanza:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[176] Ps. 68:2<\/p>\n
[177] Ps. 118:131<\/p>\n
[178] Ps. 38:4<\/p>\n
[179] Stanza xiii sect. 4; xiv sect. 26.<\/p>\n
[180] John 4:14<\/p>\n
[181] Cant. 6:9<\/p>\n
[182] Prov. 15:15<\/p>\n
[183] Phil. 4:7<\/p>\n
[184] Cant. 4:12<\/p>\n
[185] Cant. 3:5<\/p>\n
[186] Luke 15:5, 8, 9<\/p>\n
[187] Cant. 3:11
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXII<\/p>\n
The bride has entered<\/p>\n
The pleasant and desirable garden,<\/p>\n
And there reposes to her heart’s content;<\/p>\n
Her neck reclining<\/p>\n
On the sweet arms of the Beloved.<\/p>\n
THE bride having done what she could in order that the foxes may be
\ncaught, the north wind cease, the nymphs, hindrances to the desired joy
\nof the state of spiritual marriage, forgo their troublesome
\nimportunities, and having also invoked and obtained the favorable wind
\nof the Holy Spirit, which is the right disposition and means for the
\nperfection of this state, it remains for me now to speak of it in the
\nstanza in which the Bridegroom calls the soul His bride, and speaks of
\ntwo things: 1. He says that the soul, having gone forth victoriously,
\nhas entered the delectable state of spiritual marriage, which they had
\nboth so earnestly desired. 2. He enumerates the properties of that
\nstate, into the fruition of which the soul has entered, namely, perfect
\nrepose, and the resting of the neck on the arms of the Beloved.<\/p>\n
?The bride has entered.?<\/p>\n
2. For the better understanding of the arrangement of these stanzas,
\nand of the way by which the soul advances till it reaches the state of
\nspiritual marriage, which is the very highest, and of which, by the
\ngrace of God, I am now about to treat, we must keep in mind that the
\nsoul, before it enters it, must be tried in tribulations, in sharp
\nmortifications, and in meditation on spiritual things. This is the
\nsubject of this canticle till we come to the fifth stanza, beginning
\nwith the words, ?A thousand graces diffusing.? Then the soul enters on
\nthe contemplative life, passing through those ways and straits of love
\nwhich are described in the course of the canticle, till we come to the
\nthirteenth, beginning with ?Turn them away, O my Beloved!? This is the
\nmoment of the spiritual betrothal; and then the soul advances by the
\nunitive way, the recipient of many and very great communications,
\njewels and gifts from the Bridegroom as to one betrothed, and grows
\ninto perfect love, as appears from the stanzas which follow that
\nbeginning with ?Turn them away, O my Beloved!? (the moment of
\nbetrothal), to the present, beginning with the words:<\/p>\n
?The bride has entered.?<\/p>\n
3. The spiritual marriage of the soul and the Son of God now remains to
\nbe accomplished. This is, beyond all comparison, a far higher state
\nthan that of betrothal, because it is a complete transformation into
\nthe Beloved; whereby they surrender each to the other the entire
\npossession of themselves in the perfect union of love, wherein the soul
\nbecomes divine, and, by participation, God, so far as it is in this
\nlife. I believe that no soul ever attains to this state without being
\nconfirmed in grace, for the faithfulness of both is confirmed; that of
\nGod being confirmed in the soul. Hence it follows, that this is the
\nvery highest state possible in this life. As by natural marriage there
\nare ?two in one flesh,? [188] so also in the spiritual marriage between
\nGod and the soul there are two natures in one spirit and love, as we
\nlearn from St. Paul, who made use of the same metaphor, saying, ?He
\nthat cleaves to the Lord is one spirit.? [189] So, when the light of a
\nstar, or of a candle, is united to that of the sun, the light is not
\nthat of the star, nor of the candle, but of the sun itself, which
\nabsorbs all other light in its own.<\/p>\n
4. It is of this state that the Bridegroom is now speaking, saying,
\n?The bride has entered?; that is, out of all temporal and natural
\nthings, out of all spiritual affections, ways, and methods, having left
\non one side, and forgotten, all temptations, trials, sorrows, anxieties
\nand cares, transformed in this embrace.<\/p>\n
?The pleasant and desirable garden.?<\/p>\n
5. That is, the soul is transformed in God, Who is here called the
\npleasant garden because of the delicious and sweet repose which the
\nsoul finds in Him. But the soul does not enter the garden of perfect
\ntransformation, the glory and the joy of the spiritual marriage,
\nwithout passing first through the spiritual betrothal, the mutual
\nfaithful love of the betrothed. When the soul has lived for some time
\nas the bride of the Son, in perfect and sweet love, God calls it and
\nleads it into His flourishing garden for the celebration of the
\nspiritual marriage. Then the two natures are so united, what is divine
\nis so communicated to what is human, that, without undergoing any
\nessential change, each seems to be God — yet not perfectly so in this
\nlife, though still in a manner which can neither be described nor
\nconceived.<\/p>\n
6. We learn this truth very clearly from the Bridegroom Himself in the
\nCanticle, where He invites the soul, now His bride, to enter this
\nstate, saying: ?I am come into my garden, O My sister, My bride: I have
\ngathered My myrrh with My aromatic spices.? [190] He calls the soul His
\nsister, His bride, for it is such in love by that surrender which it
\nhas made of itself before He had called it to the state of spiritual
\nmarriage, when, as He says, He gathered His myrrh with His aromatic
\nspices; that is, the fruits of flowers now ripe and made ready for the
\nsoul, which are the delights and grandeurs communicated to it by
\nHimself in this state, that is Himself, and for which He is the
\npleasant and desirable garden.<\/p>\n
7. The whole aim and desire of the soul and of God, in all this, is the
\naccomplishment and perfection of this state, and the soul is therefore
\nnever weary till it reaches it; because it finds there a much greater
\nabundance and fullness in God, a more secure and lasting peace, and a
\nsweetness incomparably more perfect than in the spiritual betrothal,
\nseeing that it reposes between the arms of such a Bridegroom, Whose
\nspiritual embraces are so real that it, through them, lives the life of
\nGod. Now is fulfilled what St. Paul referred to when he said: ?I live;
\nnow not I, but Christ lives in me.? [191] And now that the soul lives a
\nlife so happy and so glorious as this life of God, consider what a
\nsweet life it must be — a life where God sees nothing displeasing, and
\nwhere the soul finds nothing irksome, but rather the glory and delight
\nof God in the very substance of itself, now transformed in Him.<\/p>\n
?And there reposes to her heart’s content; her neck reclining on the
\nsweet arms of the Beloved.?<\/p>\n
8. The neck is the soul’s strength, by means of which its union with
\nthe Beloved is wrought; for the soul could not endure so close an
\nembrace if it had not been very strong. And as the soul has labored in
\nthis strength, practiced virtue, overcome vice, it is fitting that it
\nshould rest there from its labors, ?her neck reclining on the sweet
\narms of the Beloved.?<\/p>\n
9. This reclining of the neck on the arms of God is the union of the
\nsoul’s strength, or, rather, of the soul’s weakness, with the strength
\nof God, in Whom our weakness, resting and transformed, puts on the
\nstrength of God Himself. The state of spiritual matrimony is therefore
\nmost fitly designated by the reclining of the neck on the sweet arms of
\nthe Beloved; seeing that God is the strength and sweetness of the soul,
\nWho guards and defends it from all evil and gives it to taste of all
\ngood.<\/p>\n
10. Hence the bride in the Canticle, longing for this state, says to
\nthe Bridegroom: ?Who shall give to me You my brother, sucking the
\nbreast of my mother, that I may find You without, and kiss You, and now
\nno man may despise me.? [192] By addressing Him as her Brother she
\nshows the equality between them in the betrothal of love, before she
\nentered the state of spiritual marriage. ?Sucking the breast of my
\nmother? signifies the drying up of the passions and desires, which are
\nthe breasts and milk of our mother Eve in our flesh, which are a bar to
\nthis state. The ?finding Him without? is to find Him in detachment from
\nall things and from self when the bride is in solitude, spiritually
\ndetached, which takes place when all the desires are quenched. ?And
\nkiss You? — that is, be united with the Bridegroom, alone with Him
\nalone.<\/p>\n
11. This is the union of the nature of the soul, in solitude, cleansed
\nfrom all impurity, natural, temporal, and spiritual, with the
\nBridegroom alone, with His nature, by love only — that of love which
\nis the only love of the spiritual marriage, wherein the soul, as it
\nwere, kisses God when none despises it nor makes it afraid. For in this
\nstate the soul is no longer molested, either by the devil, or the
\nflesh, or the world, or the desires, seeing that here is fulfilled what
\nis written in the Canticle: ?Winter is now past, the rain is over and
\ngone. The flowers have appeared in our land.? [193]<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
WHEN the soul has been raised to the high state of spiritual marriage,
\nthe Bridegroom reveals to it, as His faithful consort, His own
\nmarvelous secrets most readily and most frequently, for he who truly
\nand sincerely loves hides nothing from the object of his affections.
\nThe chief matter of His communications are the sweet mysteries of His
\nincarnation, the ways and means of redemption, which is one of the
\nhighest works of God, and so is to the soul one of the sweetest. Though
\nHe communicates many other mysteries, He speaks in the following stanza
\nof His incarnation only, as being the chief; and thus addresses the
\nsoul in the words that follow:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[188] Gen. 2:24<\/p>\n
[189] 1 Cor 6:17<\/p>\n
[190] Cant. 5:1<\/p>\n
[191] Gal. 2:20<\/p>\n
[192] Cant. 8:1<\/p>\n
[193] Cant. 2:11, 12
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXIII<\/p>\n
Beneath the apple-tree<\/p>\n
There were you betrothed;<\/p>\n
There I gave you My hand,<\/p>\n
And you were redeemed<\/p>\n
Where your mother was corrupted.<\/p>\n
THE Bridegroom tells the soul of the wondrous way of its redemption and
\nbetrothal to Himself, by referring to the way in which the human race
\nwas lost. As it was by the forbidden tree of paradise that our nature
\nwas corrupted in Adam and lost, so it was by the tree of the Cross that
\nit was redeemed and restored. The Bridegroom there stretched forth the
\nhand of His grace and mercy, in His death and passion, ?making void the
\nlaw of commandments? [194] which original sin had placed between us and
\nGod.<\/p>\n
?Beneath the apple-tree,?<\/p>\n
2. That is the wood of the Cross, where the Son of God was conqueror,
\nand where He betrothed our human nature to Himself, and, by
\nconsequence, every soul of man. There, on the Cross, He gave us grace
\nand pledges of His love.<\/p>\n
?There were you betrothed, there I gave you My hand.?<\/p>\n
3. ?Help and grace, lifting you up out of your base and miserable
\ncondition to be My companion and My bride.?<\/p>\n
?And you were redeemed where your mother was corrupted.?<\/p>\n
4. ?Your mother, human nature, was corrupted in her first parents
\nbeneath the forbidden tree, and you were redeemed beneath the tree of
\nthe Cross. If your mother at that tree sentenced you to die, I from the
\nCross have given you life.? It is thus that God reveals the order and
\ndispositions of His wisdom: eliciting good from evil, and turning that
\nwhich has its origin in evil to be an instrument of greater good. This
\nstanza is nearly word for word what the Bridegroom in the Canticle says
\nto the bride: ?Under the apple-tree I raised you up: there your mother
\nwas corrupted; there she was deflowered that bare you.? [195]<\/p>\n
5. It is not the betrothal of the Cross that I am speaking of now —
\nthat takes place, once for all, when God gives the first grace to the
\nsoul in baptism. I am speaking of the betrothal in the way of
\nperfection, which is a progressive work. And though both are but one,
\nyet there is a difference between them. The latter is effected in the
\nway of the soul, and therefore slowly: the former in the way of God,
\nand therefore at once.<\/p>\n
6. The betrothal of which I am speaking is that of which God speaks
\nHimself by the mouth of the prophet Ezekiel, saying: ?You were cast out
\nupon the face of the earth in the abjection of your soul, in the day
\nthat you were born. And passing by you, I saw that you were trodden
\nunder foot in your blood; and I said to you when you were in your
\nblood: Live: I said to you, I say; in your blood live. Multiplied as
\nthe spring of the field have I made you; and you were multiplied and
\nmade great, and you went in, and came to the ornaments of woman; your
\nbreasts swelled and your hair budded: and you were naked and full of
\nconfusion. And I passed by you and saw you, and behold, your time, the
\ntime of lovers; and I spread My garment over you and covered your
\nignominy. And I swore to you; and I entered a covenant with you, says
\nthe Lord God; and you were made Mine. And I washed you with water, and
\nmade clean your blood from off you: and I anointed you with oil. And I
\nclothed you with diverse colors, and shod you with hyacinth, and I
\ngirded you with silk and clothed you with fine garments. And I adorned
\nyou with ornaments, and put bracelets on your hands, and a chain about
\nyour neck. And I put a jewel upon your forehead and rings in your ears,
\nand a crown of beauty on your head. And you were adorned with gold and
\nsilver, and were clothed with silk, and embroidered work, and many
\ncolors: you ate fine flour, and honey, and oil, and were made beautiful
\nexceedingly, and advanced to be a queen. And your name went forth among
\nthe nations because of your beauty.? [196] These are the words of
\nEzekiel, and this is the state of that soul of which I am now speaking.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
AFTER the mutual surrender to each other of the bride and the Beloved,
\ncomes their bed. Thereon the bride enters into the joy of Christ. Thus
\nthe present stanza refers to the bed, which is pure and chaste, and
\ndivine, and in which the bride is pure, divine, and chaste. The bed is
\nnothing else but the Bridegroom Himself, the Word, the Son of God, in
\nWhom, through the union of love, the bride reposes. This bed is said to
\nbe of flowers, for the Bridegroom is not only that, but, as He says
\nHimself of Himself, ?I am the flower of the field and the lily of the
\nvalleys.? [197] The soul reposes not only on the bed of flowers, but on
\nthat very flower which is the Son of God, and which contains in itself
\nthe divine odor, fragrance, grace, and beauty, as He says by the mouth
\nof David, ?With me is the beauty of the field.? [198] The soul,
\ntherefore, in the stanza that follows, celebrates the properties and
\nbeauties of its bed, saying:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[194] Eph. 2:15<\/p>\n
[195] Cant. 8:5<\/p>\n
[196] Ezek. 16:5-14<\/p>\n
[197] Cant. 2:1<\/p>\n
[198] Ps. 49:11
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXIV<\/p>\n
THE BRIDE<\/p>\n
Our bed is of flowers<\/p>\n
By dens of lions encompassed,<\/p>\n
Hung with purple,<\/p>\n
Made in peace,<\/p>\n
And crowned with a thousand shields of gold.<\/p>\n
IN two of the foregoing stanzas — the fourteenth and the fifteenth —
\nthe bride-soul celebrated the grace and magnificence of the Beloved,
\nthe Son of God. In the present stanza she not only pursues the same
\nsubject, but also sings of her high and blessed state, and her own
\nsecurity in it. She then proceeds to the virtues and rich gifts with
\nwhich she is endowed and adorned in the chamber of the Bridegroom; for
\nshe says that she is in union with Him, and is strong in virtue. Next
\nshe says that she has attained to the perfection of love, and then that
\nshe enjoys perfect spiritual peace, endowed and adorned with gifts and
\ngraces, so far as it is possible to have them in this life. The first
\nsubject of the stanza is the joy which the bride feels in her union
\nwith the Beloved, saying:<\/p>\n
?Our bed is of flowers.?<\/p>\n
2. I have already said that this bed of the soul is the bosom and love
\nof the Son of God, full of flowers to the soul, which now united to God
\nand reposing in Him, as His bride, shares the bosom and love of the
\nBeloved. That is, the soul is admitted to a knowledge of the wisdom,
\nsecrets and graces, and gifts and powers of God, whereby it is made so
\nbeautiful, so rich, so abounding in delights that it seems to be lying
\non a bed of many-colored divine flowers, the touch of which makes it
\nthrill with joy, and the odors of which refresh it.<\/p>\n
3. This union of love with God is therefore most appropriately called a
\nbed of flowers, and is so called by the bride in the Canticle, saying
\nto the Beloved, ?Our bed is of flowers.? [199] She speaks of it as
\nours, because the virtues and the love, one and the same, of the
\nBeloved are common to both together, and the delight of both is one and
\nthe same; as it is written: ?My delights were to be with the children
\nof men.? [200] The bed is said to be of flowers, because in this state
\nthe virtues in the soul are perfect and heroic, which they could not be
\nuntil the bed had flowered in perfect union with God.<\/p>\n
?By dens of lions encompassed.?<\/p>\n
4. The dens of lions signify the virtues with which the soul is endowed
\nin the state of union. The dens of lions are safe retreats, protected
\nfrom all other animals, who, afraid of the boldness and strength of the
\nlion within, are afraid not only to enter, but even to appear in sight.
\nSo each virtue of the soul in the state of perfection is like a den of
\nlions where Christ dwells united to the soul in that virtue; and in
\nevery one of them as a strong lion. The soul also, united to Him in
\nthose very virtues, is as a strong lion, because it then partakes of
\nthe perfections of God.<\/p>\n
5. Thus, then, the perfect soul is so defended, so strong in virtue,
\nand in all virtues together, reposing on the flowery bed of its union
\nwith God, that the evil spirits are not only afraid to assault it, but
\neven dare not appear before it; such is their dread of it, when they
\nbehold it strong, courageous, and mature in its perfect virtues, on the
\nbed of the Beloved. The evil spirits fear a soul transformed in the
\nunion of love as much as they fear the Beloved Himself, and they dare
\nnot look upon it, for Satan is in great fear of that soul which has
\nattained to perfection.<\/p>\n
6. The soul’s bed is encompassed by virtues: they are the dens, for
\nwhen the soul has advanced to perfection, its virtues are so perfectly
\nordered, and so joined together and bound up one with another, each
\nsupporting the other, that no part of it is weak or exposed. Not only
\nis Satan unable to penetrate within it, but even worldly things,
\nwhether great or little, fail to disturb or annoy it, or even move it;
\nfor being now free from all molestation of natural affections, and a
\nstranger to the worry of temporal anxieties, it enjoys in security and
\npeace the participation of God.<\/p>\n
7. This is that for which the bride longed when she said, ?Who shall
\ngive to me You my brother, sucking the breast of my mother, that I may
\nfind You without, and kiss You, and now no man may despise me [201]
\nThe ?kiss? here is the union of which I am speaking, whereby the soul,
\nby love, becomes in a sense the equal of God. This is the object it
\ndesires when it says, ?Who shall give to me You my brother That means
\nand makes equality. ?Sucking the breast of my mother?; that is,
\ndestroying all the imperfections and desires of nature which the soul
\ninherits from its mother Eve. ?That I may find You without?; that is,
\n?be united to You alone, away from all things, in detachment of the
\nwill and desires.? ?And now no man may despise me?; that is, the world,
\nthe devil, and the flesh will not venture to assail it, for being free
\nand purified, and also united to God, none of these can molest it.
\nThus, then, the soul is in the enjoyment now of habitual sweetness and
\ntranquillity that never fail it.<\/p>\n
8. But beside this habitual contentment and peace, the flowers of the
\nvirtues of this garden so open in the soul and diffuse their odors that
\nit seems to be, and is, full of the delights of God. I say that the
\nflowers open; because the soul, though filled with the virtues in
\nperfection, is not always in the actual fruition of them,
\nnotwithstanding its habitual perception of the peace and tranquillity
\nwhich they produce. We may say of these virtues that they are in this
\nlife like the budding flowers of a garden; they offer a most beautiful
\nsight — opening under the inspirations of the Holy Spirit — and
\ndiffuse most marvelous perfumes in great variety.<\/p>\n
9. Sometimes the soul will discern in itself the mountain flowers —
\nthe fullness, grandeur, and beauty of God — intermingled with the
\nlilies of the valley — rest, refreshment, and defense; and again among
\nthem, the fragrant roses of the strange islands — the strange
\nknowledge of God; and further, the perfume of the water lilies of the
\nroaring torrents — the majesty of God filling the whole soul. And amid
\nall this, it enjoys the exquisite fragrance of the jasmine, and the
\nwhisper of the amorous gales, the fruition of which is granted to the
\nsoul in the estate of union, and in the same way all the other virtues
\nand graces, the calm knowledge, silent music, murmuring solitude, and
\nthe sweet supper of love; and the joy of all this is such as to make
\nthe soul say in truth, ?Our bed is of flowers, by dens of lions
\nencompassed.? Blessed is that soul which in this life deserves at times
\nto enjoy the perfume of these divine flowers.<\/p>\n
?Hung with purple.?<\/p>\n
10. Purple in Holy Scripture means charity, and kings are clad in it,
\nand for that reason the soul says that the bed of flowers is hung with
\npurple, because all the virtues, riches, and blessings of it are
\nsustained, flourish, and are delighted only in charity and love of the
\nKing of heaven; without that love the soul can never delight in the bed
\nnor in the flowers thereof. All these virtues, therefore, are, in the
\nsoul, as if hung on the love of God, as on that which preserves them,
\nand they are, as it were, bathed in love; for all and each of them
\nalways make the soul love God, and on all occasions and in all actions
\nthey advance in love to a greater love of God. That is what is meant by
\nsaying that the bed is hung with purple.<\/p>\n
11. This is well expressed in the sacred Canticle: ?King Solomon has
\nmade himself a litter of the wood of Lebanon; the pillars thereof he
\nhas made of silver, the seat of gold, the going up of purple; the midst
\nhe has paved with charity.? [202] The virtues and graces which God lays
\nin the bed of the soul are signified by the wood of Lebanon: the
\npillars of silver and the seat of gold are love, for, as I have said,
\nthe virtues are maintained by love, and by the love of God and of the
\nsoul are ordered and bring forth fruit.<\/p>\n
?Made in peace.?<\/p>\n
12. This is the fourth excellence of the bed, and depends on the third,
\nof which I have just spoken. For the third is perfect charity, the
\nproperty of which is, as the Apostle says, to cast out fear; [203]
\nhence the perfect peace of the soul, which is the fourth excellence of
\nthis bed. For the clearer understanding of this we must keep in mind
\nthat each virtue is in itself peaceful, gentle, and strong, and
\nconsequently, in the soul which possesses them, produces peace,
\ngentleness, and fortitude. Now, as the bed is of flowers, formed of the
\nflowers of virtues, all of which are peaceful, gentle, and strong, it
\nfollows that the bed is wrought in peace, and the soul is peaceful,
\ngentle, and strong, which are three qualities unassailable by the
\nworld, Satan, and the flesh. The virtues preserve the soul in such
\npeace and security that it seems to be wholly built up in peace. The
\nfifth property of this bed of flowers is explained in the following
\nwords:<\/p>\n
?Crowned with a thousand shields of gold.?<\/p>\n
13. The shields are the virtues and graces of the soul, which, though
\nthey are also the flowers, serve for its crown, and the reward of the
\ntoil by which they are acquired. They serve also, like strong shields,
\nas a protection against the vices, which it overcame by the practice of
\nthem; and the bridal bed of flowers therefore — that is, the virtues,
\nthe crown and defense — is adorned with them by way of reward, and
\nprotected by them as with a shield. The shields are said to be of gold,
\nto show the great worth of the virtues. The bride in the Canticle sets
\nforth the same truth, saying: ?Three score valiant men of the most
\nvaliant of Israel surround the little bed of Solomon, all holding
\nswords; . . . every man’s sword upon his thigh, because of fears in the
\nnight.? [204]<\/p>\n
14. Thus in this stanza the bride speaks of a thousand shields, to
\nexpress the variety of the virtues, gifts, and graces with which God
\nhas endowed the soul in this state. The Bridegroom also in the Canticle
\nhas employed the same expression, in order to show forth the
\ninnumerable virtues of the soul, saying: ?Your neck is as the tower of
\nDavid, which is built with bulwarks; a thousand shields hang upon it,
\nall the armor of valiant men.? [205]<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
THE soul, having attained to perfection, is not satisfied with
\nmagnifying and extolling the excellencies of the Beloved, the Son of
\nGod, nor with recounting and giving thanks for the graces received at
\nHis hands and the joy into which it has entered, but recounts also the
\ngraces conferred on other souls. In this blessed union of love the soul
\nis able to contemplate both its own and others’ graces; thus praising
\nHim and giving Him thanks for the many graces bestowed upon others, it
\nsings as in the following stanza:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[199] Cant. 1:15<\/p>\n
[200] Prov. 8:31<\/p>\n
[201] Cant. 8:1<\/p>\n
[202] Cant. 3:9, 10<\/p>\n
[203] 1 John 4:18<\/p>\n
[204] Cant. 3:7, 8<\/p>\n
[205] Cant. 4:4
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXV<\/p>\n
In Your footsteps<\/p>\n
The young ones run Your way;<\/p>\n
At the touch of the fire<\/p>\n
And by the spiced wine,<\/p>\n
The divine balsam flows.<\/p>\n
HERE the bride gives thanks to her Beloved for three graces which
\ndevout souls receive from Him, by which they encourage and excite
\nthemselves to love God more and more. She speaks of them here because
\nshe has had experience of them herself in this state of union. The
\nfirst is sweetness, which He gives them, and which is so efficacious
\nthat it makes them run swiftly on the road of perfection. The second is
\na visit of love, by which they are suddenly set on fire with love. The
\nthird is overflowing charity infused into them, with which He so
\ninebriates them that they are as much excited by it as by the visit of
\nlove, to utter the praises of God, and to love Him with all sweetness.<\/p>\n
?In Your footsteps.?<\/p>\n
2. These are the marks on the ground by which we trace the course of
\none we seek. The sweetness and knowledge of Himself which God
\ncommunicates to the soul that seeks Him are the footsteps by which it
\ntraces and recognizes Him. Thus the soul says to the Word, the
\nBridegroom, ?In Your footsteps? — ?in the traces of Your sweetness
\nwhich You diffuse, and the odors which You scatter.?<\/p>\n
?The young ones run Your way.?<\/p>\n
3. ?Devout souls run with youthful vigor in the sweetness which Your
\nfootsteps communicate.? They run in many ways and in various directions
\n— each according to the spirit which God bestows and the vocation He
\nhas given — in the diversified forms of spiritual service on the road
\nof everlasting life, which is evangelical perfection, where they meet
\nthe Beloved in the union of love, in spiritual detachment from all
\nthings.<\/p>\n
4. This sweetness and impression of Himself which God leaves in the
\nsoul render it light and active in running after Him; for the soul then
\ndoes little or nothing in its own strength towards running along this
\nroad, being rather attracted by the divine footsteps, so that it not
\nonly advances, but even runs, as I said before, in many ways. The bride
\nin the Canticle, therefore, prays for the divine attraction, saying,
\n?Draw me, we will run after You to the odor of Your ointments?; [206]
\nand David says, ?I have run the way of Your commandments, when You
\ndilated my heart.? [207]<\/p>\n
?At the touch of the fire, and by the spiced wine, the divine balsam
\nflows.?<\/p>\n
5. I said, while explaining the previous lines, that souls run in His
\nfootsteps in the way of exterior works. But the three lines I have just
\nquoted refer to the interior acts of the will, when souls are under the
\ninfluence of the other two graces, and interior visits of the Beloved.
\nThese are the touch of fire, and spiced wine; and the interior act of
\nthe will, which is the result of these visits, is the flowing of the
\ndivine balsam. The contact of the fire is that most delicate touch of
\nthe Beloved which the soul feels at times even when least expecting it,
\nand which sets the heart on fire with love, as if a spark of fire had
\nfallen upon it and made it burn. Then the will, in an instant, like one
\nroused from sleep, burns with the fire of love, longs for God, praises
\nHim and gives Him thanks, worships and honors Him, and prays to Him in
\nthe sweetness of love.<\/p>\n
6. This is the flowing of the divine balsam, which obeys the touch of
\nthe fire that issues forth from the consuming love of God which that
\nfire kindled; the divine balsam which comforts the soul and heals it
\nwith its odor and its substance.<\/p>\n
7. The bride in the Canticle speaks of this divine touch, saying, ?My
\nBeloved put His hand through the opening, and my belly trembled at His
\ntouch.? [208] The touch of the Beloved is the touch of love, and His
\nhand is the grace He bestows upon the soul, and the opening through
\nwhich He puts His hand is the vocation and the perfection, at least the
\ndegree of perfection of the soul; for accordingly will His touch be
\nheavier or lighter, in proportion to its spiritual state. The belly
\nthat trembled is the will, in which the touch is effected, and the
\ntrembling is the stirring up of the desires and affections to love,
\nlong for, and praise God, which is the flowing of the balsam from this
\ntouch.<\/p>\n
8. ?The spiced wine? is that exceedingly great grace which God
\nsometimes bestows upon advanced souls, when the Holy Spirit inebriates
\nthem with the sweet, luscious, and strong wine of love. Hence it is
\nhere called spiced wine, for as such wine is prepared by fermentation
\nwith many and diverse aromatic and strengthening herbs; so this love,
\nthe gift of God to the perfect, is in the soul prepared and seasoned
\nwith the virtues already acquired. This love, seasoned with the
\nprecious spices, communicates to the soul such a strong, abundant
\ninebriation when God visits it that it pours forth with great effect
\nand force those acts of rapturous praise, love, and worship which I
\nreferred to before, and that with a marvelous longing to labor and to
\nsuffer for Him.<\/p>\n
9. This sweet inebriation and grace, however, do not pass quickly away,
\nlike the touch of the fire, for they are of longer continuance. The
\nfire touches and passes, but the effects abide often; and sometimes the
\nspiced wine continues for a considerable time, and its effects also;
\nthis is the sweet love of the soul, and continues occasionally a day or
\ntwo, sometimes even many days together, though not always in the same
\ndegree of intensity, because it is not in the power of the soul to
\ncontrol it. Sometimes the soul, without any effort of its own, is
\nconscious of a most sweet interior inebriation, and of the divine love
\nburning within, as David says, ?My heart waxed hot within me, and in my
\nmeditation a fire shall burn.? [209]<\/p>\n
10. The outpourings of this inebriation last sometimes as long as the
\ninebriation itself. At other times there are no outpourings; and they
\nare more or less intense when they occur, in proportion to the greater
\nor less intensity of the inebriation itself. But the outpourings, or
\neffects of the fire, generally last longer than the fire which caused
\nthem; indeed the fire leaves them behind in the soul, and they are more
\nvehement than those which proceed from the inebriation, for sometimes
\nthis divine fire burns up and consumes the soul in love.<\/p>\n
11. As I have mentioned fermented wine, it will be well to touch
\nbriefly upon the difference between it, when it is old, and new wine;
\nthe difference between old wine and new wine is the same, and will
\nfurnish a little instruction for spiritual men. New wine has not
\nsettled on the lees, and is therefore fermenting; we cannot ascertain
\nits quality or worth before it has settled, and the fermentation has
\nceased, for until then there is great risk of its corruption. The taste
\nof it is rough and sharp, and an immoderate draught of it intoxicates.
\nOld wine has settled on the lees, and ferments no more like new wine;
\nthe quality of it is easily ascertained and it is now very safe from
\ncorruption, for all fermentation which might have proved pernicious has
\nentirely ceased. Well-fermented wine is very rarely spoiled, the taste
\nof it is pleasant, and its strength is in its own substance, not in the
\ntaste, and drinking it produces health and a sound constitution.<\/p>\n
12. New lovers are compared to new wine; these are beginners in the
\nservice of God, because the fervor of their love manifests itself
\noutwardly in the senses; because they have not settled on the lees of
\nsense, frail and imperfect; and because they measure the strength of
\nlove by the sweetness of it, for it is sensible sweetness that
\nordinarily gives them their strength for good works, and it is by this
\nthey are influenced; we must, therefore, place no confidence in this
\nlove till the fermentation has subsided, with the coarse satisfaction
\nof sense.<\/p>\n
13. For as these fervors and sensible warmth may incline men to good
\nand perfect love, and serve as an excellent means to it, when the lees
\nof imperfections are cleared; so also is it very easy at first, when
\nsensible sweetness is fresh, for the wine of love to fail, and the
\nsweetness of the new to vanish. New lovers are always anxious, sensibly
\ntormented by their love; it is necessary for them to put some restraint
\nupon themselves, for if they are very active in the strength of this
\nwine, their natural powers will be ruined with these anxieties and
\nfatigues of the new wine, which is rough and sharp, and not made sweet
\nin the perfect fermentation, which then takes place when the anxieties
\nof love are over, as I shall show immediately.<\/p>\n
14. The Wise Man employs the same illustration; saying, ?A new friend
\nis as new wine; it shall grow old, and you shall drink it with
\npleasure.? [210] Old lovers, therefore, who have been tried and proved
\nin the service of the Bridegroom, are like old wine settled on the
\nlees; they have no sensible emotions, nor outbursts of exterior zeal,
\nbut they taste the sweetness of the wine of love, now thoroughly
\nfermented, not sweet to the senses as was that of the love of
\nbeginners, but rather settled within the soul in the substance and
\nsweetness of the spirit, and in perfect good works. Such souls as these
\ndo not seek after sensible sweetness and fervors, neither do they wish
\nfor them, lest they should suffer from loathing and weariness; for he
\nwho gives the reins to his desires in matters of sense must of
\nnecessity suffer pain and loathing, both in mind and body.<\/p>\n
15. Old lovers, therefore, free from that spiritual sweetness which has
\nits roots in the senses, suffer neither in sense nor spirit from the
\nanxieties of love, and thus scarcely ever prove faithless to God,
\nbecause they have risen above that which might be an occasion of
\nfalling, namely, the flesh. These now drink of the wine of love, which
\nis not only fermented and free from the lees, but spiced also with the
\naromatic herbs of perfect virtues, which will not allow it to corrupt,
\nas may happen to new wine.<\/p>\n
16. For this cause an old friend is of great price in the eyes of God:
\n?Forsake not an old friend, for the new will not be like to him.? [211]
\nIt is through this wine of love, tried and spiced, that the divine
\nBeloved produces in the soul that divine inebriation, under the
\ninfluence of which it sends forth to God the sweet and delicious
\noutpourings. The meaning of these three lines, therefore, is as
\nfollows: ?At the touch of the fire, by which You stir up the soul, and
\nby the spiced wine with which You do so lovingly inebriate it, the soul
\npours forth the acts and movements of love which are Your work within
\nit.?<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
SUCH, then, is the state of the blessed soul in the bed of flowers,
\nwhere all these blessings, and many more, are granted it. The seat of
\nthat bed is the Son of God, and the hangings of it are the charity and
\nlove of the Bridegroom Himself. The soul now may say, with the bride,
\n?His left hand is under my head,? [212] and we may therefore say, in
\ntruth, that such a soul is clothed in God, and bathed in the Divinity,
\nand that, not as it were on the surface, but in the interior spirit,
\nand filled with the divine delights in the abundance of the spiritual
\nwaters of life; for it experiences that which David says of those who
\nhave drawn near to God: ?They shall be inebriated with the plenty of
\nYour house, and You shall make them drink of the torrent of Your
\npleasure, for with You is the fountain of life.? [213]<\/p>\n
2. This fullness will be in the very being of the soul, seeing that its
\ndrink is nothing else but the torrent of delights, and that torrent the
\nHoly Spirit, as it is written: ?And he showed me a river of living
\nwater, clear as crystal, proceeding from the throne of God and the
\nLamb.? [214] This water, being the very love itself of God, flows into
\nthe soul, so that it drinks of the torrent of love, which is the spirit
\nof the Bridegroom infused into the soul in union. Thence the soul in
\nthe overflowing of its love sings the following stanza:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[206] Cant. 1:3<\/p>\n
[207] Ps. 118:32<\/p>\n
[208] Cant. 5:4<\/p>\n
[209] Ps. 38:4<\/p>\n
[210] Ecclus. 9:15<\/p>\n
[211] Ecclus. 9:14<\/p>\n
[212] Cant. 2:6<\/p>\n
[213] Ps. 35:9<\/p>\n
[214] Rev. 22:1
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXVI<\/p>\n
In the inner cellar<\/p>\n
Of my Beloved have I drunk; and when I went forth<\/p>\n
Over all the plain<\/p>\n
I knew nothing,<\/p>\n
And lost the flock I followed before.<\/p>\n
HERE the soul speaks of that sovereign grace of God in taking it to
\nHimself into the house of His love, which is the union, or
\ntransformation of love in God. It describes two effects proceeding
\ntherefrom: forgetfulness of, and detachment from, all the things of
\nthis world, and the mortification of its tastes and desires.<\/p>\n
?In the inner cellar.?<\/p>\n
2. In order to explain in any degree the meaning of this, I have need
\nof the special help of the Holy Spirit to direct my hand and guide my
\npen. The cellar is the highest degree of love to which the soul may
\nattain in this life, and is therefore said to be the inner. It follows
\nfrom this that there are other cellars not so interior; that is, the
\ndegrees of love by which souls reach this, the last. These cellars are
\nseven in number, and the soul has entered into them all when it has in
\nperfection the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, so far as it is possible
\nfor it. When the soul has the spirit of fear in perfection, it has in
\nperfection also the spirit of love, inasmuch as this fear, the last of
\nthe seven gifts, is filial fear, and the perfect fear of a son proceeds
\nfrom his perfect love of his father. Thus when the Holy Scripture
\nspeaks of one as having perfect charity, it says of him that he fears
\nGod. So the prophet Isaiah, announcing the perfections of Christ, says
\nof Him, ?The spirit of the fear of the Lord shall replenish him.? [215]
\nHoly Simeon also is spoken of by the Evangelist as a ?just man full of
\nfear,? [216] and the same applies to many others.<\/p>\n
3. Many souls reach and enter the first cellar, each according to the
\nperfection of its love, but the last and inmost cellar is entered by
\nfew in this world, because therein is wrought the perfect union with
\nGod, the union of the spiritual marriage, of which the soul is now
\nspeaking. What God communicates to the soul in this intimate union is
\nutterly ineffable, beyond the reach of all possible words — just as it
\nis impossible to speak of God Himself so as to convey any idea of what
\nHe is — because it is God Himself who communicates Himself to the soul
\nnow in the marvelous bliss of its transformation. In this state God and
\nthe soul are united, as the window is with the light, or coal with the
\nfire, or the light of the stars with that of the sun, yet, however, not
\nso essentially and completely as it will be in the life to come. The
\nsoul, therefore, to show what it received from the hands of God in the
\ncellar of wine, says nothing else, and I do not believe that anything
\ncould be said but the words which follow:<\/p>\n
?Of my Beloved have I drunk.?<\/p>\n
4. As a draught diffuses itself through all the members and veins of
\nthe body, so this communication of God diffuses itself substantially in
\nthe whole soul, or rather, the soul is transformed in God. In this
\ntransformation the soul drinks of God in its very substance and its
\nspiritual powers. In the understanding it drinks wisdom and knowledge,
\nin the will the sweetest love, in the memory refreshment and delight in
\nthe thought and sense of its bliss. That the soul receives and drinks
\ndelight in its very substance, appears from the words of the bride in
\nthe Canticle: ?My soul melted as He spoke? [217] — that is, when the
\nBridegroom communicated Himself to the soul.<\/p>\n
5. That the understanding drinks wisdom is evident from the words of
\nthe bride longing and praying for the kiss of union: ?There You shall
\nteach me, and I will give you a cup of spiced wine.? [218] ?You shall
\nteach me wisdom and knowledge in love, and I will give You a cup of
\nspiced wine — that is, my love mingled with Yours.? The bride says
\nthat the will also drinks of love, saying: ?He brought me into the
\ncellar of wine; He has ordered in me charity,? [219] — that is, ?He
\ngave me His love, embracing me, to drink of love?; or, to speak more
\nclearly, ?He ordered in me His charity, tempering His charity and to
\nthe purpose making it mine.? This is to give the soul to drink of the
\nvery love of its Beloved, which the Beloved infuses into it.<\/p>\n
6. There is a common saying that the will cannot love that of which the
\nunderstanding has no knowledge. This, however, is to be understood in
\nthe order of nature, it being impossible, in a natural way, to love
\nanything unless we first know what it is we love. But in a supernatural
\nway God can certainly infuse love and increase it without infusing and
\nincreasing distinct knowledge, as is evident from the texts already
\nquoted. Yes, many spiritual persons have experience of this; their love
\nof God burns more and more, while their knowledge does not grow. Men
\nmay know little and love much, and on the other hand, know much and
\nlove but little.<\/p>\n
7. In general, those spiritual persons whose knowledge of God is not
\nvery great are usually very rich in all that belongs to the will, and
\ninfused faith suffices them for this knowledge, by means of which God
\ninfuses and increases charity in them and the acts thereof, which are
\nto love Him more and more though knowledge is not increased. Thus the
\nwill may drink of love while the understanding drinks in no fresh
\nknowledge. In the present instance, however, all the powers of the soul
\ntogether, because of the union in the inner cellar, drink of the
\nBeloved.<\/p>\n
8. As to the memory, it is clear that the soul drinks of the Beloved in
\nit, because it is enlightened with the light of the understanding in
\nremembering the blessings it possesses and enjoys in union with the
\nBeloved.<\/p>\n
?And when I went forth.?<\/p>\n
9. That is, after this grace: the divine draught having so deified the
\nsoul, exalted it, and inebriated it in God. Though the soul is always
\nin the high estate of marriage ever since God has placed it there,
\nnevertheless actual union in all its powers is not continuous, though
\nthe substantial union is. In this substantial union the powers of the
\nsoul are most frequently in union, and drink of His cellar, the
\nunderstanding by knowledge, the will by love, etc. We are not,
\ntherefore, to suppose that the soul, when saying that it went out, has
\nceased from its substantial or essential union with God, but only from
\nthe union of its faculties, which is not, and cannot be, permanent in
\nthis life; it is from this union, then, it went forth when it wandered
\nover all the plain — that is, through the whole breadth of the world.<\/p>\n
?I knew nothing.?<\/p>\n
10. This draught of God’s most deep wisdom makes the soul forget all
\nthe things of this world, and consider all its previous knowledge, and
\nthe knowledge of the whole world besides, as pure ignorance in
\ncomparison with this knowledge.<\/p>\n
11. For a clearer understanding of this, we must remember that the most
\nregular cause of the soul’s ignoring the things of the world, when it
\nhas ascended to this high state, is that it is informed by a
\nsupernatural knowledge, in the presence of which all natural and
\nworldly knowledge is ignorance rather than knowledge. For the soul in
\npossession of this knowledge, which is most profound, learns from it
\nthat all other knowledge not included in this knowledge is not
\nknowledge, but ignorance, and worthless. We have this truth in the
\nwords of the Apostle when he said that ?the wisdom of this world is
\nfoolishness with God.? [220]<\/p>\n
12. This is the reason why the soul says it knows nothing, now that it
\nhas drunk of the divine wisdom. The truth is that the wisdom of men and
\nof the whole world is mere ignorance, and not deserving any attention,
\nbut it is a truth that can be learned only in that truth of the
\npresence of God in the soul communicating to it His wisdom and making
\nit strong by this draught of love that it may see it distinctly. This
\nis taught us by Solomon, saying: ?The vision that the man spoke, with
\nwhom God is, and who being strengthened by God abiding with him, said:
\nI am the most foolish of men, and the wisdom of men is not with me.?
\n[221]<\/p>\n
13. When the soul is raised to this high wisdom of God, the wisdom of
\nman is in its eyes the lowest ignorance: all natural science and the
\nworks of God, if accompanied by ignorance of Him, are as ignorance; for
\nwhere He is not known, there nothing is known. ?The deep things of God
\nare foolishness to men.? [222] Thus the divinely wise and the worldly
\nwise are fools in the estimation of each other; for the latter cannot
\nunderstand the wisdom and science of God, nor the former those of the
\nworld, for the wisdom of the world is ignorance in comparison with the
\nwisdom of God; and the wisdom of God is ignorance with respect to that
\nof the world.<\/p>\n
14. Moreover, this deification and elevation of the spirit in God,
\nwhereby the soul is, as it were, rapt and absorbed in love, one with
\nGod, suffer it not to dwell upon any worldly matter. The soul is now
\ndetached, not only from all outward things, but even from itself: it
\nis, as it were, undone, assumed by, and dissolved in, love — that is,
\nit passes out of itself into the Beloved. Thus the bride, in the
\nCanticle, after speaking of her own transformation by love into the
\nBeloved, expresses her state of ignorance by the words ?I knew not.?
\n[223] The soul is now, in a certain sense, like Adam in paradise, who
\nknew no evil. It is so innocent that it sees no evil; neither does it
\nconsider anything to be amiss. It will hear much that is evil, and will
\nsee it with its eyes, and yet it shall not be able to understand it,
\nbecause it has no evil habits whereby to judge of it. God has rooted
\nout of it those imperfect habits and that ignorance resulting from the
\nevil of sin, by the perfect habit of true wisdom. Thus, also, the soul
\nknows nothing on this subject.<\/p>\n
15. Such a soul will scarcely intermeddle with the affairs of others,
\nbecause it forgets even its own; for the work of the Spirit of God in
\nthe soul in which He dwells is to incline it to ignore those things
\nwhich do not concern it, especially such as do not minister to
\nedification. The Spirit of God abides within the soul to withdraw it
\nfrom outward things rather than to lead it among them; and thus the
\nsoul knows nothing as it knew it formerly. We are not, however, to
\nsuppose that it loses the habits of knowledge previously acquired, for
\nthose habits are improved by the more perfect habit of supernatural
\nknowledge infused, though these habits are not so powerful as to
\nnecessitate knowledge through them, and yet there is no reason why they
\nshould not do so occasionally.<\/p>\n
16. In this union of the divine wisdom, these habits are united with
\nthe higher wisdom of other knowledge, as a little light with another
\nwhich is great; it is the great light that shines, overwhelming the
\nless, yet the latter is not therefore lost, but rather perfected,
\nthough it is not the light which shines pre-eminently. Thus, I imagine,
\nwill it be in heaven; the acquired habits of knowledge in the just will
\nnot be destroyed, though they will be of no great importance there,
\nseeing that the just will know more in the divine wisdom than by the
\nhabits acquired on earth.<\/p>\n
17. But the particular notions and forms of things, acts of the
\nimagination, and every other apprehension having form and figure are
\nall lost and ignored in this absorbing love, and this for two reasons.
\nFirst, the soul cannot actually attend to anything of the kind, because
\nit is actually absorbed by this draught of love. Secondly, and this is
\nthe principal reason, its transformation in God so conforms it to His
\npurity and simplicity — for there is no form or imaginary figure in
\nHim — as to render it pure, cleansed and empty of all the forms and
\nfigures it entertained before, being now purified and enlightened in
\nsimple contemplation. All spots and stains in the glass become
\ninvisible when the sun shines upon it, but they appear again as soon as
\nthe light of the sun is withheld.<\/p>\n
18. So is it with the soul; while the effects of this act of love
\ncontinue, this ignorance continues also, so that it cannot observe
\nanything in particular until these effects have ceased. Love has set
\nthe soul on fire and transmuted it into love, has annihilated it and
\ndestroyed it as to all that is not love, according to the words of
\nDavid: ?My heart has been inflamed, and my reins have been changed; and
\nI am brought to nothing, and I knew not.? [224] The changing of the
\nreins, because the heart is inflamed, is the changing of the soul, in
\nall its desires and actions, in God, into a new manner of life, the
\nutter undoing and annihilation of the old man, and therefore the
\nprophet said that he was brought to nothing and knew not.<\/p>\n
19. These are the two effects of drinking the wine of the cellar of
\nGod; not only is all previous knowledge brought to nothing and made to
\nvanish, but the old life also with its imperfections is destroyed, and
\ninto the new man renewed; this is the second of the two effects
\ndescribed in the words that follow:<\/p>\n
?And lost the flock I followed before.?<\/p>\n
20. Until the soul reaches the state of perfection, however spiritual
\nit may be, there always remains a troop of desires, likings, and other
\nimperfections, sometimes natural, sometimes spiritual, after which it
\nruns, and which it tries to feed while following and satisfying them.
\nWith regard to the understanding, there are certain imperfections of
\nthe desire of knowledge. With regard to the will, certain likings and
\npeculiar desires, at times in temporal things, as the wish to possess
\ncertain trifles, and attachment to some things more than to others,
\ncertain prejudices, considerations, and punctilios, with other
\nvanities, still savoring of the world: and again in natural things,
\nsuch as eating and drinking, the preference of one kind of food over
\nanother, and the choice of the best: at another time, in spiritual
\nthings, such as seeking for sweetness, and other follies of spiritual
\npersons not yet perfect, too numerous to recount here. As to the
\nmemory, there are many inconsistencies, anxieties, unseemly
\nreminiscences, which drag the soul captive after them.<\/p>\n
21. The four passions of the soul also involve it in many useless
\nhopes, joys, griefs, and fears, after which it runs. As to this flock,
\nsome men are more influenced by it than others; they run after and
\nfollow it, until they enter the inner cellar, where they lose it
\naltogether, being then transformed in love. In that cellar the flock of
\nimperfections is easily destroyed, as rust and mold on metal in the
\nfire. Then the soul feels itself free from the pettiness of
\nself-likings and the vanities after which it ran before, and may well
\nsay, ?I have lost the flock which I followed before.?<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
GOD communicates Himself to the soul in this interior union with a love
\nso intense that the love of a mother, who so tenderly caresses her
\nchild, the love of a brother, or the affection of a friend bear no
\nlikeness to it, for so great is the tenderness, and so deep is the love
\nwith which the Infinite Father comforts and exalts the humble and
\nloving soul. O wonders worthy of all awe and reverence! He humbles
\nHimself in reality before that soul that He may exalt it, as if He were
\nits servant, and the soul His lord. He is as anxious to comfort it as
\nif He were a slave, and the soul God. So great is the humility and
\ntenderness of God. In this communion of love He renders in a certain
\nway those services to the soul which He says in the Gospel He will
\nperform for the elect in heaven. ?Amen, I say to you, that He will gird
\nHimself and make them sit down to meat, and passing will minister to
\nthem.? [225]<\/p>\n
2. This very service He renders now to the soul, comforting and
\ncherishing it, as a mother her child whom she nurtures in her bosom.
\nAnd the soul recognizes herein the truth of the words of Isaiah, ?You
\nshall be carried at the breasts, and upon the knees they shall caress
\nyou.? [226] What must the feelings of the soul be amid these sovereign
\ngraces? How it will melt away in love, beholding the bosom of God
\nopened for it with such overflowing love. When the soul perceives
\nitself in the midst of these delights, it surrenders itself wholly to
\nGod, gives to Him the breasts of its own will and love, and under the
\ninfluence thereof addresses the Beloved in the words of the bride in
\nthe Canticle, saying: ?I to my Beloved, and His turning is towards me.
\nCome, my Beloved, let us go forth into the field, let us abide in the
\nvillages. Let us rise early to the vineyards, let us see if the
\nvineyard flourish, if the flowers are ready to bring forth fruits, if
\nthe pomegranates flourish; there will I give You my breasts? [227] —
\nthat is, ?I will employ all the joy and strength of my will in the
\nservice of Your love.? This mutual surrender in this union of the soul
\nand God is the subject of the stanza which follows:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[215] Isa. 11:3<\/p>\n
[216] Luke 2:25. Justus et timoratus.<\/p>\n
[217] Cant. 5:6<\/p>\n
[218] Cant. 8:2<\/p>\n
[219] Cant. 2:4<\/p>\n
[220] 1 Cor. 3:19<\/p>\n
[221] Prov. 30:1, 2<\/p>\n
[222] 1 Cor. 2:14<\/p>\n
[223] Cant. 6:11<\/p>\n
[224] Ps. 72:21, 22<\/p>\n
[225] Luke 12:37<\/p>\n
[226] Isa. 66:12<\/p>\n
[227] Cant. 7:10-12
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXVII<\/p>\n
There He gave me His breasts,<\/p>\n
There He taught me the science full of sweetness.<\/p>\n
And there I gave to Him<\/p>\n
Myself without reserve;<\/p>\n
There I promised to be His bride.<\/p>\n
HERE the soul speaks of the two contracting parties in this spiritual
\nbetrothal, itself and God. In the inner cellar of love they both met
\ntogether, God giving to the soul the breasts of His love freely,
\nwhereby He instructs it in His mysteries and wisdom, and the soul also
\nactually surrendering itself, making no reservation whatever either in
\nits own favor or in that of others, promising to be His for ever.<\/p>\n
?There He gave me His breasts.?<\/p>\n
2. To give the breast to another is to love and cherish him and
\ncommunicate one’s secrets to him as a friend. The soul says here that
\nGod gave it His breasts — that is, He gave it His love and
\ncommunicated His secrets to it. It is thus that God deals with the soul
\nin this state, and more, too, as it appears from the words that follow:<\/p>\n
?There He taught me the science full of sweetness.?<\/p>\n
3. This science is mystical theology, which is the secret science of
\nGod, and which spiritual men call contemplation. It is most full of
\nsweetness because it is knowledge by love, love is the master of it,
\nand it is love that renders it all so sweet. Inasmuch as this science
\nand knowledge are communicated to the soul in that love with which God
\ncommunicates Himself, it is sweet to the understanding, because
\nknowledge belongs to it, and sweet to the will, because it comes by
\nlove which belongs to the will.<\/p>\n
?There I gave to Him myself without reserve?<\/p>\n
4. The soul in this sweet draught of God, surrenders itself wholly to
\nHim most willingly and with great sweetness; it desires to be wholly
\nHis, and never to retain anything which is unbecoming His Majesty. God
\nis the author of this union, and of the purity and perfection requisite
\nfor it; and as the transformation of the soul in Himself makes it His,
\nHe empties it of all that is alien to Himself. Thus it comes to pass
\nthat, not in will only, but in act as well, the whole soul is entirely
\ngiven to God without any reserve whatever, as God has given Himself
\nfreely to it. The will of God and of the soul are both satisfied, each
\ngiven up to the other, in mutual delight, so that neither fails the
\nother in the faith and constancy of the betrothal; therefore the soul
\nsays:<\/p>\n
?There I promised to be His bride.?<\/p>\n
5. As a bride does not give her love to another, and as all her
\nthoughts and actions are directed to her bridegroom only, so the soul
\nnow has no affections of the will, no acts of the understanding,
\nneither object nor occupation of any kind which it does not wholly
\nrefer to God, together with all its desires. The soul is, as it were,
\nabsorbed in God, and even its first movements have nothing in them —
\nso far as it can comprehend them — which is at variance with the will
\nof God. The first movements of an imperfect soul in general are, at
\nleast, inclined to evil, in the understanding, the memory, the will,
\nthe desires and imperfections; but those of the soul which has attained
\nto the spiritual state of which I am speaking are ordinarily directed
\nto God, because of the great help and courage it derives from Him, and
\nits perfect conversion to goodness. This is set forth with great
\nclearness by David, when he says: ?Shall not my soul be subject to God?
\nFor from Him is my salvation. For He is my God and my Savior; He is my
\nprotector, I shall be moved no more.? [228] ?He is my protector? means
\nthat the soul, being now received under the protection of God and
\nunited to Him, is no longer subject to any movements contrary to God.<\/p>\n
6. It is quite clear from this that the soul which has attained the
\nspiritual betrothal knows nothing else but the love of the Bridegroom
\nand the delights thereof, because it has arrived at perfection, the
\nform and substance of which is love, according to St. Paul. [229] The
\nmore a soul loves, the more perfect it is in its love, and hence it
\nfollows that the soul which is already perfect is, if we may say so,
\nall love, all its actions are love, all its energies and strength are
\noccupied in love. It gives up all it has, like the wise merchant, [230]
\nfor this treasure of love which it finds hidden in God, and which is so
\nprecious in His sight, and the Beloved cares for nothing else but love;
\nthe soul, therefore, anxious to please Him perfectly, occupies itself
\nwholly in pure love for God, not only because love does so occupy it,
\nbut also because the love wherein it is united influences it towards
\nlove of God in and through all things. As the bee draws honey from all
\nplants, and makes use of them only for that end, so the soul most
\neasily draws the sweetness of love from all that happens to it; makes
\nall things subserve it towards loving God, whether they are sweet or
\nbitter; and being animated and protected by love, has no sense,
\nfeeling, or knowledge, because, as I have said, it knows nothing but
\nlove, and in all its occupations, its joy is its love of God. This is
\nexplained by the following stanza.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
I HAVE said that God is pleased with nothing but love; but before I
\nexplain this, it will be as well to set forth the grounds on which the
\nassertion rests. All our works, and all our labors, however grand they
\nmay be, are nothing in the sight of God, for we can give Him nothing,
\nneither can we by them fulfill His desire, which is the growth of our
\nsoul. As to Himself He desires nothing of this, for He has need of
\nnothing, and so, if He is pleased with anything it is with the growth
\nof the soul; and as there is no way in which the soul can grow but in
\nbecoming in a manner equal to Him, for this reason He is only pleased
\nwith our love. It is the property of love to place him who loves on an
\nequality with the object of his love. Hence the soul, because of its
\nperfect love, is called the bride of the Son of God, which signifies
\nequality with Him. In this equality and friendship all things are
\ncommon, as the Bridegroom Himself said to His disciples: ?I have called
\nyou friends, because all things, whatsoever I have heard of my Father,
\nI have made known to you.? [231]
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[228] Ps. 61:2, 3<\/p>\n
[229] Col. 3:14<\/p>\n
[230] Matt. 13:44<\/p>\n
[231] John 15:15
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXVIII<\/p>\n
My soul is occupied,<\/p>\n
And all my substance in His service;<\/p>\n
Now I guard no flock,<\/p>\n
Nor have I any other employment:<\/p>\n
My sole occupation is love.<\/p>\n
THE soul, or rather the bride having given herself wholly to the
\nBridegroom without any reserve whatever, now recounts to the Beloved
\nhow she fulfills her task. ?My soul and body,? she says, ?all my
\nabilities and all my capacities, are occupied not with other matters,
\nbut with those pertaining to the service of the Bridegroom.? She is
\ntherefore not seeking her own proper satisfaction, nor the
\ngratification of her own inclinations, neither does she occupy herself
\nin anything whatever which is alien to God; yes, even her communion
\nwith God Himself is nothing else but acts of love, inasmuch as she has
\nchanged her former mode of conversing with Him into loving.<\/p>\n
?My soul is occupied.?<\/p>\n
2. This refers to the soul’s surrender of itself to the Beloved in this
\nunion of love, wherein it devotes itself, with all its faculties,
\nunderstanding, will, and memory, to His service. The understanding is
\noccupied in considering what most tends to His service, in order that
\nit might be accomplished; the will in loving all that is pleasing to
\nGod, and in desiring Him in all things; the memory in recalling what
\nministers to Him, and what may be more pleasing to Him.<\/p>\n
?And all my substance in His service.?<\/p>\n
3. By substance here is meant all that relates to the sensual part of
\nthe soul, which includes the body, with all its powers, interior and
\nexterior, together with all its natural capacities — that is, the four
\npassions, the natural desires, and the whole substance of the soul, all
\nof which is employed in the service of the Beloved, as well as the
\nrational and spiritual part, as I explained in the previous section. As
\nto the body, that is now ordered according to God in all its interior
\nand exterior senses, all the acts of which are directed to God; the
\nfour passions of the soul are also under control in Him; for the soul’s
\njoy, hope, fear, and grief are conversant with God only; all its
\nappetites, and all its anxieties also, are directed to Him only.<\/p>\n
4. The whole substance of the soul is now so occupied with God, so
\nintent upon Him, that its very first movements, even inadvertently,
\nhave God for their object and their end. The understanding, memory, and
\nwill tend directly to God; the affections, senses, desires and
\nlongings, hope and joy, the whole substance of the soul, rise instantly
\ntowards God, though the soul is making no conscious efforts in that
\ndirection. Such a soul is very often doing the work of God, intent upon
\nHim and the things of God, without thinking or reflecting on what it is
\ndoing for Him. The constant and habitual practice of this has deprived
\nit of all conscious reflection, and even of that fervor which it
\nusually had when it began to act. The whole substance of the soul being
\nthus occupied, what follows cannot be but true also.<\/p>\n
?Now I guard no flock.?<\/p>\n
5. ?I do not now go after my likings and desires; for having fixed them
\nupon God, I no longer feed or guard them.? The soul not only does not
\nguard them now, but has no other occupation than to wait upon God.<\/p>\n
?Nor have I any other employment.?<\/p>\n
6. Before the soul succeeded in effecting this gift and surrender of
\nitself, and of all that belongs to it, to the Beloved, it was entangled
\nin many unprofitable occupations, by which it sought to please itself
\nand others, and it may be said that its occupations of this kind were
\nas many as its habits of imperfection.<\/p>\n
7. To these habits belong that of speaking, thinking, and the doing of
\nthings that are useless; and likewise, the not making use of these
\nthings according to the requirements of the soul’s perfection; other
\ndesires also the soul may have, with which it ministers to the desires
\nof others, to which may be referred display, compliments, flattery,
\nhuman respect, aiming at being well thought of, and the giving pleasure
\nto people, and other useless actions, by which it labored to content
\nthem, wasting its efforts herein, and finally all its strength. All
\nthis is over, says the soul here, for all its words, thoughts, and
\nworks are directed to God, and, conversant with Him, freed from their
\nprevious imperfections. It is as if it said: ?I follow no longer either
\nmy own or other men’s likings, neither do I occupy or entertain myself
\nwith useless pastimes, or the things of this world.?<\/p>\n
?My sole occupation is love.?<\/p>\n
8. ?All my occupation now is the practice of the love of God, all the
\npowers of soul and body, memory, understanding, and will, interior and
\nexterior senses, the desires of spirit and of sense, all work in and by
\nlove. All I do is done in love; all I suffer, I suffer in the sweetness
\nof love.? This is the meaning of David when he said, ?I will keep my
\nstrength to You.? [232]<\/p>\n
9. When the soul has arrived at this state all the acts of its
\nspiritual and sensual nature, whether active or passive, and of
\nwhatever kind they may be, always occasion an increase of love and
\ndelight in God: even the act of prayer and communion with God, which
\nwas once carried on by reflections and diverse other methods, is now
\nwholly an act of love. So much so is this the case that the soul may
\nalways say, whether occupied with temporal or spiritual things, ?My
\nsole occupation is love.? Happy life! happy state! and happy the soul
\nwhich has attained to it! where all is the very substance of love, the
\njoyous delights of the betrothal, when it may truly say to the Beloved
\nwith the bride in the Canticle, ?The new and the old, my Beloved, have
\nI kept for You? [233] ?All that is bitter and painful I keep for Your
\nsake, all that is sweet and pleasant I keep for You.? The meaning of
\nthe words, for my purpose, is that the soul, in the state of spiritual
\nbetrothal, is for the most part living in the union of love — that is,
\nthe will is habitually waiting lovingly on God.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
IN truth the soul is now lost to all things, and gained only to love,
\nand the mind is no longer occupied with anything else. It is,
\ntherefore, deficient in what concerns the active life, and other
\nexterior duties, that it may apply in earnest to the one thing which
\nthe Bridegroom has pronounced necessary; [234] and that is waiting upon
\nGod, and the continuous practice of His love. So precious is this in
\nthe eyes of God that He rebuked Martha because she would withdraw Mary
\nfrom His feet to occupy her actively in the service of our Lord. Martha
\nthought that she was doing everything herself, and that Mary at the
\nfeet of Christ was doing nothing. But it was far otherwise: for there
\nis nothing better or more necessary than love. Thus, in the Canticle,
\nthe Bridegroom protects the bride, adjuring the daughters of Jerusalem
\n— that is, all created things — not to disturb her spiritual sleep of
\nlove, nor to waken her, nor to let her open her eyes to anything till
\nshe pleased. ?I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you do not
\nstir up, nor awake my beloved till she please.? [235]<\/p>\n
2. Observe, however, that if the soul has not reached the state of
\nunitive love, it is necessary for it to make acts of love, as well in
\nthe active as in the contemplative life. But when it has reached it, it
\nis not requisite it should occupy itself in other and exterior duties
\n— unless they are matters of obligation — which might hinder, were it
\nbut for a moment, the life of love in God, though they may minister
\ngreatly to His service; because an instant of pure love is more
\nprecious in the eyes of God and the soul, and more profitable to the
\nChurch, than all other good works together, though it may seem as if
\nnothing were done. Thus, Mary Magdalene, though her preaching was most
\nedifying, and might have been still more so afterwards, out of the
\ngreat desire she had to please her Bridegroom and benefit the Church,
\nhid herself, nevertheless, in the desert thirty years, that she might
\nsurrender herself entirely to love; for she considered that she would
\ngain more in that way, because an instant of pure love is so much more
\nprofitable and important to the Church.<\/p>\n
3. When the soul, then, in any degree possesses the spirit of solitary
\nlove, we must not interfere with it. We should inflict a grievous wrong
\nupon it, and upon the Church also, if we were to occupy it, were it
\nonly for a moment, in exterior or active duties, however important they
\nmight be. When God Himself adjures all not to waken it from its love,
\nwho shall venture to do so, and be blameless? In a word, it is for this
\nlove that we are all created. Let those men of zeal, who think by their
\npreaching and exterior works to convert the world, consider that they
\nwould be much more edifying to the Church, and more pleasing to God —
\nsetting aside the good example they would give — if they would spend
\nat least one half their time in prayer, even though they may have not
\nattained to the state of unitive love. Certainly they would do more,
\nand with less trouble, by one single good work than by a thousand:
\nbecause of the merit of their prayer, and the spiritual strength it
\nsupplies. To act otherwise is to beat the air, to do little more than
\nnothing, sometimes nothing and occasionally even mischief; for God may
\ngive up such persons to vanity, so that they may seem to have done
\nsomething, when in reality their outward occupations bear no fruit; for
\nit is quite certain that good works cannot be done but in the power of
\nGod. O how much might be written on this subject! this, however, is not
\nthe place for it.<\/p>\n
4. I have said this to explain the stanza that follows, in which the
\nsoul replies to those who call in question its holy tranquillity, who
\nwill have it wholly occupied with outward duties, that its light may
\nshine before the world: these persons have no conception of the fibers
\nand the unseen root whence the sap is drawn, and which nourish the
\nfruit.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[232] Ps. 58:10<\/p>\n
[233] Cant. 7:13<\/p>\n
[234] Luke 10:42<\/p>\n
[235] Cant. 3:5
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXIX<\/p>\n
If then on the common land<\/p>\n
I am no longer seen or found,<\/p>\n
You will say that I am lost;<\/p>\n
That, being enamored,<\/p>\n
I lost myself; and yet was found.<\/p>\n
THE soul replies here to a tacit reproach. Worldly people are in the
\nhabit of censuring those who give themselves up in earnest to God,
\nregarding them as extravagant, in their withdrawal from the world, and
\nin their manner of life. They say also of them that they are useless
\nfor all matters of importance, and lost to everything the world prizes
\nand respects! This reproach the soul meets in the best way; boldly and
\ncourageously despising it with everything else that the world can lay
\nto its charge. Having attained to a living love of God, it makes little
\naccount of all this; and that is not all: it confesses it itself in
\nthis stanza, and boasts that it has committed that folly, and that it
\nis lost to the world and to itself for the Beloved.<\/p>\n
2. That which the soul is saying here, addressing itself to the world,
\nis in substance this: ?If you see me no longer occupied with the
\nsubjects that engrossed me once, with the other pastimes of the world,
\nsay and believe that I am lost to them, and a stranger to them, yes,
\nthat I am lost of my own choice, seeking my Beloved whom I so greatly
\nlove.? But that they may see that the soul’s loss is gain, and not
\nconsider it folly and delusion, it adds that its loss was gain, and
\nthat it therefore lost itself deliberately.<\/p>\n
?If then on the common I am no longer seen or found.?<\/p>\n
3. The common is a public place where people assemble for recreation,
\nand where shepherds feed their flocks. By the common here is meant the
\nworld in general, where men amuse themselves and feed the herd of their
\ndesires. The soul says to the worldly-minded: ?If you see me no more
\nwhere I used to be before I gave myself up wholly to God, look upon me
\nas lost, and say so?: the soul rejoices in that and would have men so
\nspeak of it.<\/p>\n
?Say that I am lost.?<\/p>\n
4. He who loves is not ashamed before men of what he does for God,
\nneither does he hide it through shame though the whole world should
\ncondemn it. He who shall be ashamed to confess the Son of God before
\nmen, neglecting to do His work, the Son of God also will be ashamed to
\nacknowledge him before His Father. ?He that shall deny Me before men, I
\nwill also deny him before My Father Who is in heaven.? [236] The soul,
\ntherefore, in the courage of its love, glories in what ministers to the
\nhonor of the Beloved, in that it has done anything for Him and is lost
\nto the things of the world.<\/p>\n
5. But few spiritual persons arrive at this perfect courage and
\nresolution in their conduct. For though some attempt to practice it,
\nand some even think themselves proficient therein, they never entirely
\nlose themselves on certain points connected with the world or self, so
\nas to be perfectly detached for the sake of Christ, despising
\nappearances and the opinion of the world. These can never answer, ?Say
\nthat I am lost,? because they are not lost to themselves, and are still
\nashamed to confess Christ before men through human respect; these do
\nnot therefore really live in Christ.<\/p>\n
?That being enamored,?<\/p>\n
That is, practicing virtues for the love of God,<\/p>\n
?I lost myself; and yet was found.?<\/p>\n
6. The soul remembers well the words of the Bridegroom in the Gospel:
\n?No man can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love
\nthe other,? [237] and therefore, in order not to lose God, loses all
\nthat is not God, that is, all created things, even itself, being lost
\nto all things for the love of Him. He who truly loves makes a shipwreck
\nof himself in all else that he may gain the more in the object of his
\nlove. Thus the soul says that it has lost itself — that is,
\ndeliberately, of set purpose.<\/p>\n
7. This loss occurs in two ways. The soul loses itself, making no
\naccount whatever of itself, but of the Beloved, resigning itself freely
\ninto His hands without any selfish views, losing itself deliberately,
\nand seeking nothing for itself. Secondly, it loses itself in all
\nthings, making no account of anything save that which concerns the
\nBeloved. This is to lose oneself — that is, to be willing that others
\nshould have all things. Such is he that loves God; he seeks neither
\ngain nor reward, but only to lose all, even himself, according to God’s
\nwill; this is what such a one counts gain. This is real gain, for the
\nApostle says, ?to die is gain? [238] — that is, to die for Christ is
\nmy gain and profit spiritually. This is why the soul says that it ?was
\nfound?; for he who does not know how to lose, does not find, but rather
\nloses himself, as our Savior teaches us in the Gospel, saying, ?He that
\nwill save his life shall lose it; and he that shall lose his life for
\nMy sake shall find it.? [239]<\/p>\n
8. But if we wish to know the deeper spiritual meaning of this line,
\nand its peculiar fitness here, it is as follows: When a soul has
\nadvanced so far on the spiritual road as to be lost to all the natural
\nmethods of communing with God; when it seeks Him no longer by
\nmeditation, images, impressions, nor by any other created ways, or
\nrepresentations of sense, but only by rising above them all, in the
\njoyful communion with Him by faith and love, then it may be said to
\nhave found God of a truth, because it has truly lost itself as to all
\nthat is not God, and also as to its own self.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
THE soul being thus gained, all its works are gain, for all its powers
\nare exerted in the spiritual intercourse of most sweet interior love
\nwith the Beloved. The interior communications between God and the soul
\nare now so delicious, so full of sweetness, that no mortal tongue can
\ndescribe them, nor human understanding comprehend them. As a bride on
\nthe day of her betrothal attends to nothing but to the joyous festival
\nof her love, and brings forth all her jewels and ornaments for the
\npleasure of the bridegroom, and as he too in the same way exhibits his
\nown magnificence and riches for the pleasure of his bride, so is it in
\nthe spiritual betrothal where the soul feels that which the bride says
\nin the Canticle, ?I to my Beloved and my Beloved to me.? [240] The
\nvirtues and graces of the bride-soul, the grandeur and magnificence of
\nthe Bridegroom, the Son of God, come forth into the light, for the
\ncelebration of the bridal feast, communicating each to the other the
\ngoods and joys with the wine of sweet love in the Holy Spirit. The
\npresent stanza, addressed to the Bridegroom by the soul, has this for
\nits subject.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[236] Matt. 10:33<\/p>\n
[237] Matt. 6:24<\/p>\n
[238] Phil. 1:21<\/p>\n
[239] Matt. 16:25<\/p>\n
[240] Cant. 6:2
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXX<\/p>\n
Of emeralds, and of flowers<\/p>\n
In the early morning gathered,<\/p>\n
We will make the garlands,<\/p>\n
Flowering in Your love,<\/p>\n
And bound together with one hair of my head.<\/p>\n
THE bride now turns to the Bridegroom and addresses Him in the
\nintercourse and comfort of love; the subject of the stanza being the
\nsolace and delight which the bride-soul and the Son of God find in the
\npossession of the virtues and gifts of each other, and in the exercise
\nthereof, both rejoicing in their mutual love. Thus the soul, addressing
\nthe Beloved, says that they will make garlands rich in graces and
\nacquired virtues, obtained at the fitting and convenient season,
\nbeautiful and lovely in the love He bears the soul, and kept together
\nby the love which it itself has for Him. This rejoicing in virtue is
\nwhat is meant by making garlands, for the soul and God rejoice together
\nin these virtues bound up as flowers in a garland, in the common love
\nwhich each bears the other.<\/p>\n
?Of emeralds, and of flowers.?<\/p>\n
2. The flowers are the virtues of the soul; the emeralds are the gifts
\nit has received from God. Then of these flowers and emeralds<\/p>\n
?In the early morning gathered.?<\/p>\n
3. That is, acquired in youth, which is the early morning of life. They
\nare said to be gathered because the virtues which we acquire in youth
\nare most pleasing to God; because youth is the season when our vices
\nmost resist the acquisition of them, and when our natural inclinations
\nare most prone to lose them. Those virtues also are more perfect which
\nwe acquire in early youth. This time of our life is the early morning;
\nfor as the freshness of the spring morning is more agreeable than any
\nother part of the day, so also are the virtues acquired in our youth
\nmore pleasing in the sight of God.<\/p>\n
4. By the fresh morning we may understand those acts of love by which
\nwe acquire virtue, and which are more pleasing to God than the fresh
\nmorning is to the sons of men; good works also, wrought in the season
\nof spiritual dryness and hardness; this is the freshness of the winter
\nmorning, and what we then do for God in dryness of spirit is most
\nprecious in His eyes. Then it is that we acquire virtues and graces
\nabundantly; and what we then acquire with toil and labor is for the
\nmost part better, more perfect and lasting than what we acquire in
\ncomfort and spiritual sweetness; for virtue sends forth its roots in
\nthe season of dryness, toil, and trial: as it is written, ?Virtue is
\nmade perfect in infirmity.? [241] It is with a view to show forth the
\nexcellence of these virtues, of which the garland is wrought for the
\nBeloved, that the soul says of them that they have been gathered in the
\nearly morning; because it is these flowers alone, with the emeralds of
\nvirtue, the choice and perfect graces, and not the imperfect, which are
\npleasing to the Beloved, and so the bride says:<\/p>\n
?We will make the garlands.?<\/p>\n
5. All the virtues and graces which the soul, and God in it, acquire
\nare as a garland of diverse flowers with which the soul is marvelously
\nadorned as with a vesture of rich embroidery. As material flowers are
\ngathered, and then formed into a garland, so the spiritual flowers of
\nvirtues and graces are acquired and set in order in the soul: and when
\nthe acquisition is complete, the garland of perfection is complete
\nalso. The soul and the Bridegroom rejoice in it, both beautiful,
\nadorned with the garland, as in the state of perfection.<\/p>\n
6. These are the garlands which the soul says they will make. That is,
\nit will wreathe itself with this variety of flowers, with the emeralds
\nof virtues and perfect gifts, that it may present itself worthily
\nbefore the face of the King, and be on an equality with Him, sitting as
\na queen on His right hand; for it has merited this by its beauty. Thus
\nDavid says, addressing himself to Christ: ?The queen stood on Your
\nright hand in vestments of gold, girt with variety.? [242] That is, at
\nHis right hand, clad in perfect love, girt with the variety of graces
\nand perfect virtues.<\/p>\n
7. The soul does not say, ?I will make garlands,? nor ?You will make
\nthem,? but, ?We will make them,? not separately, but both together;
\nbecause the soul cannot practice virtues alone, nor acquire them alone,
\nwithout the help of God; neither does God alone create virtue in the
\nsoul without the soul’s concurrence. Though it is true, as the Apostle
\nsays, that ?every best gift, and every perfect gift, is from above,
\ndescending from the Father of lights,? [243] still they enter into no
\nsoul without that soul’s concurrence and consent. Thus the bride in the
\nCanticle says to the Bridegroom; ?Draw me; we will run after you.?
\n[244] Every inclination to good comes from God alone, as we learn here;
\nbut as to running, that is, good works, they proceed from God and the
\nsoul together, and it is therefore written, ?We will run? — that is,
\nboth together, but not God nor the soul alone.<\/p>\n
8. These words may also be fittingly applied to Christ and His Church,
\nwhich, as His bride, says to Him, ?We will make the garlands.? In this
\napplication of the words the garlands are the holy souls born to Christ
\nin the Church. Every such soul is by itself a garland adorned with the
\nflowers of virtues and graces, and all of them together a garland for
\nthe head of Christ the Bridegroom.<\/p>\n
9. We may also understand by these beautiful garlands the crowns formed
\nby Christ and the Church, of which there are three kinds. The first is
\nformed of the beauty and white flowers of the virgins, each one with
\nher virginal crown, and forming altogether one crown for the head of
\nthe Bridegroom Christ. The second, of the brilliant flowers of the holy
\ndoctors, each with his crown of doctor, and all together forming one
\ncrown above that of the virgins on the head of Christ. The third is
\ncomposed of the purple flowers of the martyrs, each with his own crown
\nof martyrdom, and all united into one, perfecting that on the head of
\nChrist. Adorned with these garlands He will be so beautiful, and so
\nlovely to behold, that heaven itself will repeat the words of the bride
\nin the Canticle, saying: ?Go forth, you daughters of Zion, and see king
\nSolomon in the diadem with which his mother crowned him in the day of
\nhis betrothal, and in the day of the joy of his heart.? [245] The soul
\nthen says we will make garlands.<\/p>\n
?Flowering in Your love.?<\/p>\n
10. The flowering of good works and virtues is the grace and power
\nwhich they derive from the love of God, without which they not only
\nflower not, but even become dry, and worthless in the eyes of God,
\nthough they may be humanly perfect. But if He gives His grace and love
\nthey flourish in His love.<\/p>\n
?And bound together with one hair of my head.?<\/p>\n
11. The hair is the will of the soul, and the love it bears the
\nBeloved. This love performs the function of the thread that keeps the
\ngarland together. For as a thread binds the flowers of a garland, so
\nloves knits together and sustains virtues in the soul. ?Charity? —
\nthat is, love — says the Apostle, ?is the bond of perfection.? [246]
\nLove, in the same way, binds the virtues and supernatural gifts
\ntogether, so that when love fails by our departure from God, all our
\nvirtue perishes also, just as the flowers drop from the garland when
\nthe thread that bound them together is broken. It is not enough for
\nGod’s gift of virtues that He should love us, but we too must love Him
\nin order to receive them, and preserve them.<\/p>\n
12. The soul speaks of one hair, not of many, to show that the will by
\nitself is fixed on God, detached from all other hairs; that is, from
\nstrange love. This points out the great price and worth of these
\ngarlands of virtues; for when love is single, firmly fixed on God, as
\nhere described, the virtues also are entire, perfect, and flowering in
\nthe love of God; for the love He bears the soul is beyond all price,
\nand the soul also knows it well.<\/p>\n
13. Were I to attempt a description of the beauty of that binding of
\nthe flowers and emeralds together, or of the strength and majesty which
\ntheir harmonious arrangement furnishes to the soul, or the beauty and
\ngrace of its embroidered vesture, expressions and words would fail me;
\nfor if God says of the evil spirit, ?His body is like molten shields,
\nshut close up with scales pressing upon one another, one is joined to
\nanother, and not so much as any air can come between them?; [247] if
\nthe evil spirit is so strong, clad in malice thus compacted together —
\nfor the scales that cover his body like molten shields are malice, and
\nmalice is in itself but weakness — what must be the strength of the
\nsoul that is clothed in virtues so compacted and united together that
\nno impurity or imperfection can penetrate between them; each virtue
\nseverally adding strength to strength, beauty to beauty, wealth to
\nwealth, and to majesty, dominion and grandeur?<\/p>\n
14. What a marvelous vision will be that of the bride-soul, when it
\nshall sit on the right hand of the Bridegroom-King, crowned with
\ngraces! ?How beautiful are your steps in shoes, O prince’s daughter!?
\n[248] The soul is called a prince’s daughter because of the power it
\nhas; and if the beauty of the steps in shoes is great, what must be
\nthat of the whole vesture? Not only is the beauty of the soul crowned
\nwith admirable flowers, but its strength also, flowing from the
\nharmonious order of the flowers, intertwined with the emeralds of its
\ninnumerable graces, is terrible: ?Terrible as the army of a camp set in
\narray.? [249] For, as these virtues and gifts of God refresh the soul
\nwith their spiritual perfume, so also, when united in it, do they, out
\nof their substance, minister strength. Thus, in the Canticle, when the
\nbride was weak, languishing with love — because she had not been able
\nto bind together the flowers and the emeralds with the hair of her love
\n— and anxious to strengthen herself by that union of them, cries out:
\n?Stay me with flowers, compass me about with apples; because I languish
\nwith love.? [250] The flowers are the virtues, and the apples are the
\nother graces.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
I BELIEVE I have now shown how the intertwining of the garlands and
\ntheir lasting presence in the soul explain the divine union of love
\nwhich now exists between the soul and God. The Bridegroom, as He says
\nHimself, is the ?flower of the field and the lily of the valleys,?
\n[251] and the soul’s love is the hair that unites to itself this flower
\nof flowers. Love is the most precious of all things, because it is the
\n?bond of perfection,? as the Apostle says, [252] and perfection is
\nunion with God. The soul is, as it were, a sheaf of garlands, for it is
\nthe subject of this glory, no longer what it was before, but the very
\nperfect flower of flowers in the perfection and beauty of all; for the
\nthread of love binds so closely God and the soul, and so unites them,
\nthat it transforms them and makes them one by love; so that, though in
\nessence different, yet in glory and appearance the soul seems God and
\nGod the soul. Such is this marvelous union, baffling all description.<\/p>\n
2. We may form some conception of it from the love of David and
\nJonathan, whose ?soul was knit with the soul of David.? [253] If the
\nlove of one man for another can be thus strong, so as to knit two souls
\ntogether, what must that love of God be which can knit the soul of man
\nto God the Bridegroom? God Himself is here the suitor Who in the
\nomnipotence of His unfathomable love absorbs the soul with greater
\nviolence and efficacy than a torrent of fire a single drop of the
\nmorning dew which resolves itself into air. The hair, therefore, which
\naccomplishes such a union must, of necessity, be most strong and
\nsubtle, seeing that it penetrates and binds together so effectually the
\nsoul and God. In the present stanza the soul declares the qualities of
\nthis hair.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[241] 2 Cor 12:9<\/p>\n
[242] Ps. 44:10<\/p>\n
[243] James 1:17<\/p>\n
[244] Cant. 1:3<\/p>\n
[245] Cant. 3:11<\/p>\n
[246] Col. 3:14<\/p>\n
[247] Job 41:6, 7<\/p>\n
[248] Cant. 7:1<\/p>\n
[249] Cant. 6:3<\/p>\n
[250] Cant. 2:5<\/p>\n
[251] Cant. 2:1<\/p>\n
[252] Col. 3:14<\/p>\n
[253] 1 Kings 18:1
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXXI<\/p>\n
By that one hair<\/p>\n
You have observed fluttering on my neck,<\/p>\n
And on my neck regarded,<\/p>\n
You were captivated;<\/p>\n
And wounded by one of my eyes.<\/p>\n
THERE are three things mentioned here. The first is, that the love by
\nwhich the virtues are bound together is nothing less than a strong
\nlove; for in truth it need be so in order to preserve them. The second
\nis, that God is greatly taken by this hair of love, seeing it to be
\nalone and strong. The third is, that God is deeply enamored of the
\nsoul, beholding the purity and integrity of its faith.<\/p>\n
?By that one hair You have observed fluttering on my neck.?<\/p>\n
2. The neck signifies that strength in which, it is said, fluttered the
\nhair of love, strong love, which bound the virtues together. It is not
\nsufficient for the preservation of virtues that love be alone, it must
\nbe also strong so that no contrary vice may anywhere destroy the
\nperfection of the garland; for the virtues so are bound up together in
\nthe soul by the hair, that if the thread is once broken, all the
\nvirtues are lost; for where one virtue is, all are, and where one
\nfails, all fail also. The hair is said to flutter on the neck, because
\nits love of God, without any hindrance whatever, flutters strongly and
\nlightly in the strength of the soul.<\/p>\n
3. As the air causes hair to wave and flutter on the neck, so the
\nbreath of the Holy Spirit stirs the strong love that it may fly upwards
\nto God; for without this divine wind, which excites the powers of the
\nsoul to the practice of divine love, all the virtues the soul may
\npossess become ineffectual and fruitless. The Beloved observed the hair
\nfluttering on the neck — that is, He considered it with particular
\nattention and regard; because strong love is a great attraction for the
\neyes of God.<\/p>\n
?And on my neck regarded.?<\/p>\n
4. This shows us that God not only esteems this love, seeing it alone,
\nbut also loves it, seeing it strong; for to say that God regards is to
\nsay that He loves, and to say that He observes is to say that He
\nesteems what He observes. The word ?neck? is repeated in this line,
\nbecause it, being strong, is the cause why God loves it so much. It is
\nas if the soul said, ?You have loved it, seeing it strong without
\nweakness or fear, and without any other love, and flying upwards
\nswiftly and fervently.?<\/p>\n
5. Until now God had not looked upon this hair so as to be captivated
\nby it, because He had not seen it alone, separate from the others,
\nwithdrawn from other loves, feelings, and affections, which hindered it
\nfrom fluttering alone on the neck of strength. Afterwards, however,
\nwhen mortifications and trials, temptations and penance had detached
\nit, and made it strong, so that nothing whatever could break it, then
\nGod beholds it, and is taken by it, and binds the flowers of the
\ngarlands with it; for it is now so strong that it can keep the virtues
\nunited together in the soul.<\/p>\n
6. But what these temptations and trials are, how they come, and how
\nfar they reach, that the soul may attain to that strength of love in
\nwhich God unites it to Himself, I have described in the ?Dark Night,?
\n[254] and in the explanation of the four stanzas [255] which begin with
\nthe words, ?O living flame of love!? The soul having passed through
\nthese trials has reached a degree of love so high that it has merited
\nthe divine union.<\/p>\n
?You were captivated.?<\/p>\n
7. O joyful wonder! God captive to a hair. The reason of this capture
\nso precious is that God was pleased to observe the fluttering of the
\nhair on the soul’s neck; for where God regards He loves. If He in His
\ngrace and mercy had not first looked upon us and loved us, [256] as St.
\nJohn says, and humbled Himself, He never could have been taken by the
\nfluttering of the hair of our miserable love. His flight is not so low
\nas that our love could lay hold of the divine bird, attract His
\nattention, and fly so high with a strength worthy of His regard, if He
\nhad not first looked upon us. He, however, is taken by the fluttering
\nof the hair; He makes it worthy and pleasing to Himself, and then is
\ncaptivated by it. ?You have seen it on my neck, You were captivated by
\nit.? This renders it credible that a bird which flies low may capture
\nthe royal eagle in its flight, if the eagle should fly so low and be
\ntaken by it willingly.<\/p>\n
?And wounded by one of my eyes.?<\/p>\n
8. The eye is faith. The soul speaks of but one, and that this has
\nwounded the Beloved. If the faith and trust of the soul in God were not
\none, without admixture of other considerations, God never could have
\nbeen Wounded by love. Thus the eye that wounds, and the hair that
\nbinds, must be one. So strong is the love of the Bridegroom for the
\nbride, because of her simple faith, that, if the hair of her love binds
\nHim, the eye of her faith imprisons Him so closely as to wound Him
\nthrough that most tender affection He bears her, which is to the bride
\na further progress in His love.<\/p>\n
9. The Bridegroom Himself speaks in the Canticle of the hair and the
\neyes, saying to the bride, ?You have wounded My heart, My sister, My
\nbride; you have wounded My heart with one of your eyes, and with one
\nhair of your neck.? [257] He says twice that His heart is wounded, that
\nis, with the eye and the hair, and therefore the soul in this stanza
\nspeaks of them both, because they signify its union with God in the
\nunderstanding and the will; for the understanding is subdued by faith,
\nsignified by the eye, and the will by love. Here the soul exults in
\nthis union, and gives thanks to the Bridegroom for it, it being His
\ngift; accounting it a great matter that He has been pleased to requite
\nits love, and to become captive to it. We may also observe here the
\njoy, happiness, and delight of the soul with its prisoner, having been
\nfor a long time His prisoner, enamored of Him.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
GREAT is the power and courage of love, for God is its prisoner.
\nBlessed is the soul that loves, for it has made a captive of God Who
\nobeys its good pleasure. Such is the nature of love that it makes those
\nwho love do what is asked of them, and, on the other hand, without love
\nthe utmost efforts will be fruitless, but one hair will bind those that
\nlove. The soul, knowing this, and conscious of blessings beyond its
\nmerits, in being raised up to so high a degree of love, through the
\nrich endowments of graces and virtues, attributes all to the Beloved,
\nsaying:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[254] Dark Night,’ Bk. 1, ch. 14.<\/p>\n
[255] Stanza ii. sect. 26 ff.<\/p>\n
[256] 1 John 4:10<\/p>\n
[257] Cant. 4:9
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXXII<\/p>\n
When You regarded me,<\/p>\n
Yours eyes imprinted in me Your grace:<\/p>\n
For this You loved me again,<\/p>\n
And thereby my eyes merited<\/p>\n
To adore what in You they saw.<\/p>\n
IT is the nature of perfect love to seek or accept nothing for itself,
\nto attribute nothing to itself, but to refer all to the Beloved. If
\nthis is true of earthly love, how much more so of the love of God, the
\nreason of which is so constraining. In the two foregoing stanzas the
\nbride seemed to attribute something to herself; for she said that she
\nwould make garlands with her Beloved, and bind them with a hair of her
\nhead; that is a great work, and of no slight importance and worth:
\nafterwards she said that she exulted in having captivated Him by a
\nhair, and wounded Him with one of her eyes. All this seems as if she
\nattributed great merits to herself. Now, however, she explains her
\nmeaning, and removes the wrong impression with great care and fear,
\nlest any merit should be attributed to herself, and therefore less to
\nGod than His due, and less also than she desired. She now refers all to
\nHim, and at the same time gives Him thanks, saying that the cause of
\nHis being the captive of the hair of her love, and of His being wounded
\nby the eye of her faith, was His mercy in looking lovingly upon her,
\nthereby rendering her lovely and pleasing in His sight; and that the
\nloveliness and worth she received from Him merited His love, and made
\nher worthy to adore her Beloved, and to bring forth good works worthy
\nof His love and favor.<\/p>\n
?When You regarded me.?<\/p>\n
2. That is, with loving affection, for I have already said, that where
\nGod regards there He loves.<\/p>\n
?Yours eyes imprinted in me Your grace.?<\/p>\n
3. The eyes of the Bridegroom signify here His merciful divinity,
\nwhich, mercifully inclined to the soul, imprints or infuses in it the
\nlove and grace by which He makes it beautiful, and so elevates it that
\nHe makes it the partaker of His divinity. When the soul sees to what
\nheight of dignity God has raised it, it says:<\/p>\n
?For this You loved me again.?<\/p>\n
4. To love again is to love much; it is more than simple love, it is a
\ntwofold love, and for two reasons. Here the soul explains the two
\nmotives of the Bridegroom’s love; He not only loved it because
\ncaptivated by the hair, but He loved it again, because He was wounded
\nwith one of its eyes. The reason why He loved it so deeply is that He
\nwould, when He looked upon it, give it the grace to please Him,
\nendowing it with the hair of love, and animating with His charity the
\nfaith of the eye. And therefore the soul says:<\/p>\n
?For this You loved me again.?<\/p>\n
5. To say that God shows favor to the soul is to say that He renders it
\nworthy and capable of His love. It is therefore as if the soul said,
\n?Having shown Your favor to me, worthy pledges of Your love, You have
\ntherefore loved me again?; that is, ?You have given me grace upon
\ngrace?; or, in the words of St. John, ?grace for grace?; [258] grace
\nfor the grace He has given, that is more grace, for without grace we
\ncannot merit His grace.<\/p>\n
6. If we could clearly understand this truth, we must keep in mind
\nthat, as God loves nothing beside Himself, so loves He nothing more
\nthan Himself, because He loves all things with reference to Himself.
\nThus love is the final cause, and God loves nothing for what it is in
\nitself. Consequently, when we say that God loves such a soul, we say,
\nin effect, that He brings it in a manner to Himself, making it His
\nequal, and thus it is He loves that soul in Himself with that very love
\nwith which He loves Himself. Every good work, therefore, of the soul in
\nGod is meritorious of God’s love, because the soul in His favor, thus
\nexalted, merits God Himself in every act.<\/p>\n
?And thereby my eyes merited.?<\/p>\n
7. That is, ?By the grace and favor which the eyes of Your compassion
\nhave wrought, when You looked upon me, rendering me pleasing in Your
\nsight and worthy of Your regard.?<\/p>\n
?To adore what in You they saw.?<\/p>\n
8. That is: ?The powers of my soul, O my Bridegroom, the eyes by which
\nI can see You, although once fallen and miserable in the vileness of
\ntheir mean occupations, have merited to look upon You.? To look upon
\nGod is to do good works in His grace. Thus the powers of the soul merit
\nin adoring because they adore in the grace of God, in which every act
\nis meritorious. Enlightened and exalted by grace, they adored what in
\nHim they saw, and what they saw not before, because of their blindness
\nand meanness. What, then, have they now seen? The greatness of His
\npower, His overflowing sweetness, infinite goodness, love, and
\ncompassion, innumerable benefits received at His hands, as well now
\nwhen so near Him as before when far away. The eyes of the soul now
\nmerit to adore, and by adoring merit, for they are beautiful and
\npleasing to the Bridegroom. Before they were unworthy, not only to
\nadore or behold Him, but even to look upon Him at all: great indeed is
\nthe stupidity and blindness of a soul without the grace of God.<\/p>\n
9. It is a melancholy thing to see how far a soul departs from its duty
\nwhen it is not enlightened by the love of God. For being bound to
\nacknowledge these and other innumerable favors which it has every
\nmoment received at His hands, temporal as well as spiritual, and to
\nworship and serve Him unceasingly with all its faculties, it not only
\ndoes not do so, but is unworthy even to think of Him; nor does it make
\nany account of Him whatever. Such is the misery of those who are
\nliving, or rather who are dead, in sin.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
FOR the better understanding of this and of what follows, we must keep
\nin mind that the regard of God benefits the soul in four ways: it
\ncleanses, adorns, enriches, and enlightens it, as the sun, when it
\nshines, dries, warms, beautifies, and brightens the earth. When God has
\nvisited the soul in the three latter ways, whereby He renders it
\npleasing to Himself, He remembers its former uncleanness and sin no
\nmore: as it is written, ?All the iniquities that he has wrought, I will
\nnot remember.? [259]<\/p>\n
God having once done away with our sin and uncleanness, He will look
\nupon them no more; nor will He withhold His mercy because of them, for
\nHe never punishes twice for the same sin, according to the words of the
\nprophet: ?There shall not rise a double affliction.? [260]<\/p>\n
Still, though God forgets the sin He has once forgiven, we are not for
\nthat reason to forget it ourselves; for the Wise Man says, ?Be not
\nwithout fear about sin forgiven.? [261] There are three reasons for
\nthis. We should always remember our sin, that we may not presume, that
\nwe may have a subject of perpetual thanksgiving, and because it serves
\nto give us more confidence that we shall receive greater favors; for
\nif, when we were in sin, God showed Himself to us so merciful and
\nforgiving, how much greater mercies may we not hope for when we are
\nclean from sin, and in His love?<\/p>\n
The soul, therefore, calling to mind all the mercies it has received,
\nand seeing itself united to the Bridegroom in such dignity, rejoices
\ngreatly with joy, thanksgiving, and love. In this it is helped
\nexceedingly by the recollection of its former condition, which was so
\nmean and filthy that it not only did not deserve that God should look
\nupon it, but was unworthy that He should even utter its name, as He
\nsays by the mouth of the prophet David: ?Nor will I be mindful of their
\nnames by My lips.? [262] Thus the soul, seeing that there was, and that
\nthere can be, nothing in itself to attract the eyes of God, but that
\nall comes from Him of pure grace and goodwill, attributes its misery to
\nitself, and all the blessings it enjoys to the Beloved; and seeing
\nfurther that because of these blessings it can merit now what it could
\nnot merit before, it becomes bold with God, and prays for the divine
\nspiritual union, wherein its mercies are multiplied. This is the
\nsubject of the following stanza:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[258] John 1:16<\/p>\n
[259] Ezek. 18:22<\/p>\n
[260] Nahum 1:9<\/p>\n
[261] Ecclus. 5:5<\/p>\n
[262] Ps. 15:4
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXXIII<\/p>\n
Despise me not,<\/p>\n
For if I was swarthy once,<\/p>\n
You can regard me now;<\/p>\n
Since You have regarded me,<\/p>\n
Grace and beauty have You given me.<\/p>\n
THE soul now is becoming bold, and respects itself, because of the
\ngifts and endowments which the Beloved has bestowed upon it. It
\nrecognizes that these things, while itself is worthless and
\nunderserving, are at least means of merit, and consequently it ventures
\nto say to the Beloved, ?Do not disregard me now, or despise me?; for if
\nbefore it deserved contempt because of the filthiness of its sin, and
\nthe meanness of its nature, now that He has once looked upon it, and
\nthereby adorned it with grace and beauty, He may well look upon it a
\nsecond time and increase its grace and beauty. That He has once done
\nso, when the soul did not deserved it, and had no attractions for Him,
\nis reason enough why He should do so again and again.<\/p>\n
?Despise me not.?<\/p>\n
2. The soul does not say this because it desires in any way to be
\nesteemed — for contempt and insult are of great price, and occasions
\nof joy to the soul that truly loves God — but because it acknowledges
\nthat in itself it merits nothing else, were it not for the gifts and
\ngraces it has received from God, as it appears from the words that
\nfollow.<\/p>\n
?For if I was swarthy once.?<\/p>\n
3. ?If, before You graciously looked upon me You found me in my
\nfilthiness, black with imperfections and sins, and naturally mean and
\nvile,?<\/p>\n
?You can regard me now; since You have regarded me.?<\/p>\n
4. After once looking upon me, and taking away my swarthy complexion,
\ndefiled by sin and disagreeable to look upon, when You rendered me
\nlovely for the first time, You may well look upon me now — that is,
\nnow I may be looked on and deserve to be regarded, and thereby to
\nreceive further favors at Your hands. For Your eyes, when they first
\nlooked upon me, not only took away my swarthy complexion, but rendered
\nme also worthy of Your regard; for in Your look of love, —<\/p>\n
?Grace and beauty have You given me.?<\/p>\n
5. The two preceding lines are a commentary on the words of St. John,
\n?grace for grace,? [263] for when God beholds a soul that is lovely in
\nHis eyes He is moved to bestow more grace upon it because He dwells
\nwell-pleased within it. Moses knew this, and prayed for further grace:
\nhe would, as it were, constrain God to grant it because he had already
\nreceived so much ?You have said: I know you by name, and you have found
\nfavor in My sight: if therefore I have found favor in Your sight, show
\nme Your face, that I may know You, and may find grace before Yours
\neyes.? [264]<\/p>\n
6. Now a soul which in the eyes of God is thus exalted in grace,
\nhonorable and lovely, is for that reason an object of His unutterable
\nlove. If He loved that soul before it was in a state of grace, for His
\nown sake, He loves it now, when in a state of grace, not only for His
\nown sake, but also for itself. Thus enamored of its beauty, through its
\naffections and good works, now that it is never without them, He
\nbestows upon it continually further grace and love, and the more
\nhonorable and exalted He renders that soul, the more is He captivated
\nby it, and the greater His love for it.<\/p>\n
7. God Himself sets this truth before us, saying to His people, by the
\nmouth of the prophet, ?since you became honorable in My eyes, and
\nglorious, I have loved you.? [265] That is, ?Since I have cast My eyes
\nupon you, and thereby showed you favor, and made you glorious and
\nhonorable in My sight, you have merited other and further favors?; for
\nto say that God loves, is to say that He multiplies His grace. The
\nbride in the Canticle speaks to the same effect, saying, ?I am black,
\nbut beautiful, O you daughters of Jerusalem.? [266] and the Church
\nadds, [267] saying, ?Therefore has the King loved me, and brought me
\ninto His secret chamber.? This is as much as saying: ?O you souls who
\nhave no knowledge nor understanding of these favors, do not marvel that
\nthe heavenly King has shown such mercy to me as to plunge me in the
\ndepths of His love, for, though I am swarthy, He has so regarded me,
\nafter once looking upon me, that He could not be satisfied without
\nbetrothing me to Himself, and calling me into the inner chamber of His
\nlove.?<\/p>\n
8. Who can measure the greatness of the soul’s exaltation when God is
\npleased with it? No language, no imagination is sufficient for this;
\nfor in truth God does this as God, to show that it is He who does it.
\nThe dealings of God with such a soul may in some degree be understood;
\nbut only in this way, namely, that He gives more to him who has more,
\nand that His gifts are multiplied in proportion to the previous
\nendowments of the soul. This is what He teaches us Himself in the
\nGospel, saying; ?He that has to him shall be given, and he shall
\nabound: but he that has not, from him shall be taken away even that
\nwhich he has.? [268]<\/p>\n
9. Thus the talent of that servant, not then in favor with his lord,
\nwas taken from him and given to another who had gained others, so that
\nthe latter might have all, together with the favor of his lord. [269]
\nGod heaps the noblest and the greatest favors of His house, which is
\nthe Church militant as well as the Church triumphant, upon him who is
\nmost His friend, ordaining it thus for His greater honor and glory, as
\na great light absorbs many little lights. This is the spiritual sense
\nof those words, already cited, [270] the prophet Isaiah addressed to
\nthe people of Israel: ?I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel,
\nyour Savior: I have given Egypt for your atonement and Seba for you. I
\nwill give men for you, and people for your life.? [271]<\/p>\n
10. Well may You then, O God, gaze upon and prize that soul which You
\nregard, for You have made it precious by looking upon it, and given it
\ngraces which in Your sight are precious, and by which You are
\ncaptivated. That soul, therefore, deserves that You should regard it
\nnot only once, but often, seeing that You have once looked upon it; for
\nso is it written in the book of Esther by the Holy Spirit: ?This honor
\nis he worthy of, whom the king has a mind to honor.? [272]<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
THE gifts of love which the Bridegroom bestows on the soul in this
\nstate are inestimable; the praises and endearing expressions of divine
\nlove which pass so frequently between them are beyond all utterance.
\nThe soul is occupied in praising Him, and in giving Him thanks; and He
\nin exalting, praising, and thanking the soul, as we see in the
\nCanticle, where He thus speaks to the bride: ?Behold, you are fair, O
\nMy love, behold, you are fair; your eyes are as those of doves.? The
\nbride replies: ?Behold, you are fair, my Beloved, and comely.? [273]
\nThese, and other like expressions, are addressed by them each to the
\nother.<\/p>\n
2. In the previous stanza the soul despised itself, and said it was
\nswarthy and unclean, praising Him for His beauty and grace, Who, by
\nlooking upon the soul, rendered it gracious and beautiful. He, Whose
\nway it is to exalt the humble, fixing His eyes upon the soul, as He was
\nentreated to do, praises it in the following stanza. He does not call
\nit swarthy, as the soul calls itself, but He addresses it as His white
\ndove, praising it for its good dispositions, those of a dove and a
\nturtle-dove.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[263] John 1:16<\/p>\n
[264] Exod. 33:12, 13<\/p>\n
[265] Isa. 43:4<\/p>\n
[266] Cant. 1:4<\/p>\n
[267] Antiphon in Vesper B. M. V.<\/p>\n
[268] Matt. 13:12<\/p>\n
[269] Matt. 25:28<\/p>\n
[270] Sect. 7.<\/p>\n
[271] Isa. 43:3<\/p>\n
[272] Esth. 6:11<\/p>\n
[273] Cant. 4:1, 6:3
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXXIV<\/p>\n
THE BRIDEGROOM<\/p>\n
The little white dove<\/p>\n
Has returned to the ark with the bough;<\/p>\n
And now the turtle-dove<\/p>\n
Its desired mate<\/p>\n
On the green banks has found.<\/p>\n
IT is the Bridegroom Himself who now speaks. He celebrates the purity
\nof the soul in its present state, the rich rewards it has gained, in
\nhaving prepared itself, and labored to come to Him. He also speaks of
\nits blessedness in having found the Bridegroom in this union, and of
\nthe fulfillment of all its desires, the delight and joy it has in Him
\nnow that all the trials of life and time are over.<\/p>\n
?The little white dove.?<\/p>\n
2. He calls the soul, on account of its whiteness and purity — effects
\nof the grace it has received at the hands of God — a dove, ?the little
\nwhite dove,? for this is the term He applies to it in the Canticle, to
\nmark its simplicity, its natural gentleness, and its loving
\ncontemplation. The dove is not only simple, and gentle without gall,
\nbut its eyes are also clear, full of love. The Bridegroom, therefore,
\nto point out in it this character or loving contemplation, wherein it
\nlooks upon God, says of it that its eyes are those of a dove: ?Your
\neyes are dove’s eyes.? [274]<\/p>\n
?Has returned to the ark with the bough.?<\/p>\n
3. Here the Bridegroom compares the soul to the dove of Noah’s ark, the
\ngoing and returning of which is a figure of what befalls the soul. For
\nas the dove went forth from the ark, and returned because it found no
\nrest for its feet on account of the waters of the deluge, until the
\ntime when it returned with the olive branch in its mouth — a sign of
\nthe mercy of God in drying the waters which had covered the earth — so
\nthe soul went forth at its creation out of the ark of God’s
\nomnipotence, and having traversed the deluge of its sins and
\nimperfections, and finding no rest for its desires, flew and returned
\non the air of the longings of its love to the ark of its Creator’s
\nbosom; but it only effected an entrance when God had dried the waters
\nof its imperfections. Then it returned with the olive branch, that is,
\nthe victory over all things by His merciful compassion, to this blessed
\nand perfect recollection in the bosom of the Beloved, not only
\ntriumphant over all its enemies, but also rewarded for its merits; for
\nboth the one and the other are symbolized by the olive bough. Thus the
\ndove-soul returns to the ark of God not only white and pure as it went
\nforth when He created it, but with the olive branch of reward and peace
\nobtained by the conquest of itself.<\/p>\n
?And now the turtle dove its desired mate on the green banks has
\nfound.?<\/p>\n
4. The Bridegroom calls the soul the turtle-dove, because when it is
\nseeking after the Beloved it is like the turtle-dove when it cannot
\nfind its desired mate. It is said of the turtle-dove, when it cannot
\nfind its mate, that it will not sits on the green boughs, nor drink of
\nthe cool refreshing waters, nor retire to the shade, nor mingle with
\ncompanions; but when it finds its mate then it does all this.<\/p>\n
5. Such, too, is the condition of the soul, and necessarily, if it is
\nto attain to union with the Bridegroom. The soul’s love and anxiety
\nmust be such that it cannot rest on the green boughs of any joy, nor
\ndrink of the waters of this world’s honor and glory, nor recreate
\nitself with any temporal consolation, nor shelter itself in the shade
\nof created help and protection: it must repose nowhere, it must avoid
\nthe society of all its inclinations, mourn in its loneliness, until it
\nshall find the Bridegroom to its perfect contentment.<\/p>\n
6. And because the soul, before it attained to this estate, sought the
\nBeloved in great love, and was satisfied with nothing short of Him, the
\nBridegroom here speaks of the end of its labors, and the fulfillment of
\nits desires, saying: ?Now the turtle-dove its desired mate on the green
\nbanks has found.? That is: Now the bride-soul sits on the green bough,
\nrejoicing in her Beloved, drinks of the clear waters of the highest
\ncontemplation and of the wisdom of God; is refreshed by the
\nconsolations it finds in Him, and is also sheltered under the shadow of
\nHis favor and protection, which she had so earnestly desired. There is
\nshe deliciously and divinely comforted, refreshed and nourished, as she
\nsays in the, Canticle: ?I sat down under His shadow Whom I desired, and
\nHis fruit was sweet to my palate.? [275]<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
THE Bridegroom proceeds to speak of the satisfaction which He derives
\nfrom the happiness which the bride has found in that solitude wherein
\nshe desired to live — a stable peace and unchangeable good. For when
\nthe bride is confirmed in the tranquillity of her soul and solitary
\nlove of the Bridegroom, she reposes so sweetly in the love of God, and
\nGod also in her, that she requires no other means or masters to guide
\nher in the way of God; for God Himself is now her light and guide,
\nfulfilling in her what He promised by the mouth of Hosea, saying: ?I
\nwill lead her into the wilderness, and I will speak to her heart.?
\n[276] That is, it is in solitude that He communicates Himself, and
\nunites Himself, to the soul, for to speak to the heart is to satisfy
\nthe heart, and no heart can be satisfied with less than God. And so the
\nBridegroom Says:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[274] Cant. 4:1<\/p>\n
[275] Cant. 2:3<\/p>\n
[276] Hos. 2:14
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXXV<\/p>\n
In solitude she lived,<\/p>\n
And in solitude built her nest;<\/p>\n
And in solitude, alone<\/p>\n
Has the Beloved guided her,<\/p>\n
In solitude also wounded with love.<\/p>\n
IN this stanza the Bridegroom is doing two things: one is, He is
\npraising the solitude in which the soul once lived, for it was the
\nmeans whereby it found the Beloved, and rejoiced in Him, away from all
\nits former anxieties and troubles. For, as the soul abode in solitude,
\nabandoning all created help and consolation, in order to obtain the
\nfellowship and union of the Beloved, it deserved thereby possession of
\nthe peace of solitude in the Beloved, in Whom it reposes alone,
\nundisturbed by any anxieties.<\/p>\n
2. The second is this: the Bridegroom is saying that, inasmuch as the
\nsoul has desired to be alone, far away, for His sake, from all created
\nthings, He has been enamored of it because of its loneliness, has taken
\ncare of it, held it in His arms, fed it with all good things, and
\nguided it to the deep things of God. He does not merely say that He is
\nnow the soul’s guide, but that He is its only guide, without any
\nintermediate help, either of angels or of men, either of forms or of
\nfigures; for the soul in this solitude has attained to true liberty of
\nspirit, and is wholly detached from all subordinate means.<\/p>\n
?In solitude she lived.?<\/p>\n
3. The turtle-dove, that is, the soul, lived in solitude before she
\nfound the Beloved in this state of union; for the soul that longs after
\nGod derives no consolation from any other companionship, — yes, until
\nit finds Him everything does but increase its solitude.<\/p>\n
?And in solitude built her nest.?<\/p>\n
4. The previous solitude of the soul was its voluntary privation of all
\nthe comforts of this world, for the sake of the Bridegroom — as in the
\ninstance of the turtledove — its striving after perfection, and
\nacquiring that perfect solitude wherein it attains to union with the
\nWord, and in consequence to complete refreshment and repose. This is
\nwhat is meant by ?nest?; and the words of the stanza may be thus
\nexplained: ?In that solitude, wherein the bride formerly lived, tried
\nby afflictions and troubles, because she was not perfect, there, in
\nthat solitude, has she found refreshment and rest, because she has
\nfound perfect rest in God.? This, too, is the spiritual sense of these
\nwords of the Psalmist: ?The sparrow has found herself a house, and the
\nturtle a nest for herself, where she may lay her young ones; [277] that
\nis, a sure stay in God, in Whom all the desires and powers of the soul
\nare satisfied.?<\/p>\n
?And in solitude.?<\/p>\n
5. In the solitude of perfect detachment from all things, wherein it
\nlives alone with God — there He guides it, moves it, and elevates it
\nto divine things. He guides the understanding in the perception of
\ndivine things, because it is now detached from all strange and contrary
\nknowledge, and is alone. He moves the will freely to love Himself,
\nbecause it is now alone, disencumbered from all other affections. He
\nfills the memory with divine knowledge, because that also is now alone,
\nemptied of all imaginations and fancies. For the instant the soul
\nclears and empties its faculties of all earthly objects, and from
\nattachments to higher things, keeping them in solitude, God immediately
\nfills them with the invisible and divine; it being God Himself Who
\nguides it in this solitude. St. Paul says of the perfect, that they
\n?are led by the Spirit of God,? [278] and that is the same as saying
\n?In solitude has He guided her.?<\/p>\n
?Alone has the Beloved guided her.?<\/p>\n
6. That is, the Beloved not only guides the soul in its solitude, but
\nit is He alone Who works in it directly and immediately. It is of the
\nnature of the soul’s union with God in the spiritual marriage that God
\nworks directly, and communicates Himself immediately, not by the
\nministry of angels or by the help of natural capacities. For the
\nexterior and interior senses, all created things, and even the soul
\nitself, contribute very little towards the reception of those great
\nsupernatural favors which God bestows in this state; indeed, inasmuch
\nas they do not fall within the cognizance of natural efforts, ability
\nand application, God effects them alone.<\/p>\n
7. The reason is, that He finds the soul alone in its solitude, and
\ntherefore will not give it another companion, nor will He entrust His
\nwork to any other than Himself.<\/p>\n
8. There is a certain fitness in this; for the soul having abandoned
\nall things, and passed through all the ordinary means, rising above
\nthem to God, God Himself becomes the guide, and the way to Himself. The
\nsoul in solitude, detached from all things, having now ascended above
\nall things, nothing now can profit or help it to ascend higher except
\nthe Bridegroom Word Himself, Who, because enamored of the bride, will
\nHimself alone bestow these graces on the soul. And so He says:<\/p>\n
?In solitude also wounded with love.?<\/p>\n
9. That is, the love of the bride; for the Bridegroom not only loves
\ngreatly the solitude of the soul, but is also wounded with love of her,
\nbecause the soul would abide in solitude and detachment, on account of
\nits being itself wounded with love of Him. He will not, therefore,
\nleave it alone; for being wounded with love because of the soul’s
\nsolitude on His account, and seeing that nothing else can satisfy it,
\nHe comes Himself to be alone its guide, drawing it to, and absorbing it
\nin, Himself. But He would not have done so if He had not found it in
\nthis spiritual solitude.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
IT is a strange characteristic of persons in love that they take a much
\ngreater pleasure in their loneliness than in the company of others. For
\nif they meet together in the presence of others with whom they need
\nhave no intercourse, and from whom they have nothing to conceal, and if
\nthose others neither address them nor interfere with them, yet the very
\nfact of their presence is sufficient to rob the lovers of all pleasure
\nin their meeting. The cause of this lies in the fact that love is the
\nunion of two persons, who will not communicate with each other if they
\nare not alone. And now the soul, having reached the summit of
\nperfection, and liberty of spirit in God, all the resistance and
\ncontradictions of the flesh being subdued, has no other occupation or
\nemployment than indulgence in the joys of its intimate love of the
\nBridegroom. It is written of holy Tobit, after the trials of his life
\nwere over, that God restored his sight, and that ?the rest of his life
\nwas in joy.? [279] So is it with the perfect soul, it rejoices in the
\nblessings that surround it.<\/p>\n
2. The prophet Isaiah says of the soul which, having been tried in the
\nworks of perfection has arrived at the goal desired: ?Your light shall
\narise up in darkness, and your darkness shall be as the noonday. And
\nthe Lord will give you rest always, and will fill your soul with
\nbrightness, and deliver your bones, and you shall be as a watered
\ngarden and as a fountain of water whose waters shall not fail. And the
\ndeserts of the world shall be built in you: you shall raise up the
\nfoundations of generation and generation; and you shall be called the
\nbuilder of the hedges, turning the paths into rest. If you turn away
\nyour foot from the Sabbath, from doing your will in My holy day, and
\ncall the Sabbath delicate, and the Holy of our Lord glorious, and
\nglorify Him while you do not your own ways, and your will be not found,
\nto speak a word: then shall you be delighted in the Lord, and I will
\nlift you up above the heights of the earth, and will feed you with the
\ninheritance of Jacob your father,? [280] Who is God Himself. The soul,
\ntherefore, has nothing else to do now but to rejoice in the delights of
\nthis pasture, and one thing only to desire — the perfect fruition of
\nit in everlasting life. Thus, in the next and the following stanzas it
\nimplores the Beloved to admit it into this beatific pasture in the
\nclear vision of God, and says:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[277] Ps. 83:4<\/p>\n
[278] Rom. 8:14<\/p>\n
[279] Tob. 14:4<\/p>\n
[280] Isa. 58:10-14
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXXVI<\/p>\n
THE BRIDE<\/p>\n
Let us rejoice, O my Beloved,<\/p>\n
Let us go forth to see ourselves in Your beauty,<\/p>\n
To the mountain and the hill,<\/p>\n
Where the pure water flows:<\/p>\n
Let us enter into the heart of the thicket.<\/p>\n
THE perfect union of love between itself and God being now effected,
\nthe soul longs to occupy itself with those things that belong to love.
\nIt is the soul which is now speaking, making three petitions to the
\nBeloved. In the first place, it asks for the joy and sweetness of love,
\nsaying, ?Let us rejoice.? In the second place, it prays to be made like
\nHim, saying, ?Let us go forth to see ourselves in Your beauty.? In the
\nthird place, it begs to be admitted to the knowledge of His secrets,
\nsaying, ?Let us enter into the heart of the thicket.?<\/p>\n
?Let us rejoice, O my Beloved.?<\/p>\n
2. That is, in the sweetness of our love; not only in that sweetness of
\nordinary union, but also in that which flows from active and affective
\nlove, whether in the will by an act of affection, or outwardly in good
\nworks which tend to the service of the Beloved. For love, as I have
\nsaid, where it is firmly rooted, ever runs after those joys and
\ndelights which are the acts of exterior and interior love. All this the
\nsoul does that it may be made like to the Beloved.<\/p>\n
?Let us go forth to see ourselves in Your beauty.?<\/p>\n
3. ?Let us so act, that, by the practice of this love, we may come to
\nsee ourselves in Your beauty in everlasting life.? That is: ?Let me be
\nso transformed in Your beauty, that, being alike in beauty, we may see
\nourselves both in Your beauty; having Your beauty, so that, one
\nbeholding the other, each may see his own beauty in the other, the
\nbeauty of both being Yours only, and mine absorbed in it. And thus I
\nshall see You in Your beauty, and myself in Your beauty, and You shall
\nsee me in Your beauty; and I shall see myself in You in Your beauty,
\nand You Yourself in me in Your beauty; so shall I seem to be Yourself
\nin Your beauty, and You myself in Your beauty; my beauty shall be
\nYours, Yours shall be mine, and I shall be You in it, and You myself in
\nYour own beauty; for Your beauty will be my beauty, and so we shall
\nsee, each the other, in Your beauty.?<\/p>\n
4. This is the adoption of the sons of God, who may truly say what the
\nSon Himself says to the Eternal Father: ?All My things are Yours, and
\nYours are Mine,? [281] He by essence, being the Son of God by nature,
\nwe by participation, being sons by adoption. This He says not for
\nHimself only, Who is the Head, but for the whole mystical body, which
\nis the Church. For the Church will share in the very beauty of the
\nBridegroom in the day of her triumph, when she shall see God face to
\nface. And this is the vision which the soul prays that the Bridegroom
\nand itself may go in His beauty to see.<\/p>\n
?To the mountain and the hill.?<\/p>\n
5. That is, to the morning and essential knowledge of God, [282] which
\nis knowledge in the Divine Word, Who, because He is so high, is here
\nsignified by ?the mountain.? Thus Isaiah says, calling upon men to know
\nthe Son of God: ?Come, and let us go up to the mountain of our Lord?;
\n[283] and before: ?In the last days the mountain of the house of the
\nLord shall be prepared.? [284]<\/p>\n
?And to the hill.?<\/p>\n
6. That is, to the evening knowledge of God, to the knowledge of Him in
\nHis creatures, in His works, and in His marvelous laws. This is
\nsignified by the expression ?hill,? because it is a kind of knowledge
\nlower than the other. The soul prays for both when it says ?to the
\nmountain and the hill.?<\/p>\n
7. When the soul says, ?Let us go forth to see ourselves in Your beauty
\nto the mountain,? its meaning is, ?Transform me, and make me like the
\nbeauty of the Divine Wisdom, the Word, the Son of God.? When it says
\n?to the hill,? the meaning is, ?Instruct me in the beauty of this lower
\nknowledge, which is manifest in Your creatures and mysterious works.?
\nThis also is the beauty of the Son of God, with which the soul desires
\nto shine.<\/p>\n
8. But the soul cannot see itself in the beauty of God if it is not
\ntransformed in His wisdom, wherein all things are seen and possessed,
\nwhether in heaven or in earth. It was to this mountain and to this hill
\nthe bride longed to come when she said, ?I will go to the mountain of
\nmyrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.? [285] The mountain of myrrh is
\nthe clear vision of God, and the hill of frankincense the knowledge of
\nHim in His works, for the myrrh on the mountain is of a higher order
\nthan the incense on the hill.<\/p>\n
?Where the pure water flows.?<\/p>\n
9. This is the wisdom and knowledge of God, which cleanse the
\nunderstanding, and detach it from all accidents and fancies, and which
\nclear it of the mist of ignorance. The soul is ever influenced by this
\ndesire of perfectly and clearly understanding the divine verities, and
\nthe more it loves the more it desires to penetrate them, and hence the
\nthird petition which it makes:<\/p>\n
?Let us enter into the heart of the thicket;?<\/p>\n
10. Into the depths of God’s marvelous works and profound judgments.
\nSuch is their multitude and variety, that they may be called a thicket.
\nThey are so full of wisdom and mystery, that we may not only call them
\na thicket, but we may even apply to them the words of David: ?The
\nmountain of God is a rich mountain, a mountain curdled as cheese, a
\nrich mountain.? [286] The thicket of the wisdom and knowledge of God is
\nso deep, and so immense, that the soul, however much it knows of it,
\ncan always penetrate further within it, because it is so immense and so
\nincomprehensible. ?O the depth,? cries out the Apostle, ?of the riches
\nof the wisdom and of the knowledge of God! How incomprehensible are His
\njudgments, and how unsearchable His ways!? [287]<\/p>\n
11. But the soul longs to enter this thicket and incomprehensibility of
\nHis judgments, for it is moved by that longing for a deeper knowledge
\nof them. That knowledge is an inestimable delight, transcending all
\nunderstanding. David, speaking of the sweetness of them, says: ?The
\njudgments of our Lord are true, justified in themselves, to be desired
\nabove gold and many precious stones, and sweeter than honey and the
\nhoney-comb. For Your servant keeps them.? [288] The soul therefore
\nearnestly longs to be engulfed in His judgments, and to have a deeper
\nknowledge of them, and for that end would esteem it a joy and great
\nconsolation to endure all sufferings and afflictions in the world, and
\nwhatever else might help it to that end, however hard and painful it
\nmight be; it would gladly pass through the agonies of death to enter
\ndeeper into God.<\/p>\n
12. Hence, also, the thicket, which the soul desires to enter, may be
\nfittingly understood as signifying the great and many trials and
\ntribulations which the soul longs for, because suffering is most sweet
\nand most profitable to it, inasmuch as it is the way by which it enters
\nmore and more into the thicket of the delicious wisdom of God. The most
\npure suffering leads to the most pure and the deepest knowledge, and
\nconsequently to the purest and highest joy, for that is the issue of
\nthe deepest knowledge. Thus, the soul, not satisfied with ordinary
\nsuffering, says, ?Let us enter into the heart of the thicket,? even the
\nanguish of death, that I may see God.<\/p>\n
13. Job, desiring to suffer that he might see God, thus speaks ?Who
\nwill grant that my request may come, and that God may give me what I
\nlook for? And that He that has begun may destroy me, that He may let
\nloose His hand and cut me off? And that this may be my comfort, that
\nafflicting me with sorrow, He spare not.? [289] O that men would
\nunderstand how impossible it is to enter the thicket, the manifold
\nriches of the wisdom of God, without entering into the thicket of
\nmanifold suffering making it the desire and consolation of the soul;
\nand how that the soul which really longs for the divine wisdom longs
\nfirst of all for the sufferings of the Cross, that it may enter in.<\/p>\n
14. For this cause it was that St. Paul admonished the Ephesians not to
\nfaint in their tribulations, but to take courage: ?That being rooted
\nand founded in charity, you may be able to comprehend with all the
\nsaints what is the breadth, and length, and height, and depth; to know
\nalso the charity of Christ, which surpasses all knowledge, that you may
\nbe filled to all the fullness of God.? [290] The gate by which we enter
\ninto the riches of the knowledge of God is the Cross; and that gate is
\nnarrow. They who desire to enter in that way are few, while those who
\ndesire the joys that come by it are many.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
ONE of the principal reasons why the soul desires to be released and to
\nbe with Christ is that it may see Him face to face, and penetrate to
\nthe depths of His ways and the eternal mysteries of His incarnation,
\nwhich is not the least part of its blessedness; for in the Gospel of
\nSt. John He, addressing the Father, said: ?Now this is eternal life:
\nthat they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ Whom You
\nhave sent.? [291] As the first act of a person who has taken a long
\njourney is to see and converse with him whom he was in search of, so
\nthe first thing which the soul desires, when it has attained to the
\nbeatific vision, is to know and enjoy the deep secrets and mysteries of
\nthe incarnation and the ancient ways of God depending on them. Thus the
\nsoul, having said that it longed to see itself in the beauty of God,
\nsings as in the following stanza:
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[281] John 17:10<\/p>\n
[282] St. Augustine, De Genesi ad Litt.’ iv., xxiv. (and elsewhere) and
\nthe scholastics (St. Thomas, S. Th.’ I. lviii. 7) distinguish between
\nthe morning knowledge’ whereby angels and saints know created things by
\nseeing the Divine Word, and evening knowledge’ where they derive their
\nknowledge from the created things themselves.<\/p>\n
[283] Isa. 2:3<\/p>\n
[284] Isa. 2:2<\/p>\n
[285] Cant. 4:6<\/p>\n
[286] Ps. 67:16<\/p>\n
[287] Rom. 11:33<\/p>\n
[288] Ps. 18:10-12<\/p>\n
[289] Job 6:8-10<\/p>\n
[290] Eph. 3:17-19<\/p>\n
[291] John 17:3
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXXVII<\/p>\n
We shall go at once<\/p>\n
To the deep caverns of the rock<\/p>\n
Which are all secret;<\/p>\n
There we shall enter in,<\/p>\n
And taste of the new wine of the pomegranate.<\/p>\n
ONE of the reasons which most influence the soul to desire to enter
\ninto the ?thicket? of the wisdom of God, and to have a more intimate
\nknowledge of the beauty of the divine wisdom, is, as I have said, that
\nit may unite the understanding with God in the knowledge of the
\nmysteries of the Incarnation, as of all His works the highest and most
\nfull of sweetness, and the most delicious knowledge. And here the bride
\ntherefore says, that after she has entered in within the divine wisdom
\n— that is, the spiritual marriage, which is now and will be in glory,
\nseeing God face to face — her soul united with the divine wisdom, the
\nSon of God, she will then understand the deep mysteries of God and Man,
\nwhich are the highest wisdom hidden in God. They, that is, the bride
\nand the Bridegroom, will enter in — the soul engulfed and absorbed —
\nand both together will have the fruition of the joy which springs from
\nthe knowledge of mysteries, and attributes and power of God which are
\nrevealed in those mysteries, such as His justice, His mercy, wisdom,
\npower, and love.<\/p>\n
?We shall go at once to the deep caverns of the rock.?<\/p>\n
2. ?This rock is Christ,? as we learn from St. Paul. [292] The deep
\ncaverns of the rock are the deep mysteries of the wisdom of God in
\nChrist, in the hypostatical union of the human nature with the Divine
\nWord, and in the correspondence with it of the union of man with God,
\nand in the agreement of God’s justice and mercy in the salvation of
\nmankind, in the manifestation of His judgments. And because His
\njudgments are so high and so deep, they are here fittingly called ?deep
\ncaverns?; deep because of the depth of His mysteries, and caverns
\nbecause of the depth of His wisdom in them. For as caverns are deep,
\nwith many windings, so each mystery of Christ is of deepest wisdom, and
\nhas many windings of His secret judgments of predestination and
\nforeknowledge with respect to men.<\/p>\n
3. Notwithstanding the marvelous mysteries which holy doctors have
\ndiscovered, and holy souls have understood in this life, many more
\nremain behind. There are in Christ great depths to be fathomed, for He
\nis a rich mine, with many recesses full of treasures, and however
\ndeeply we may descend we shall never reach the end, for in every recess
\nnew veins of new treasures abound in all directions: ?In Whom,?
\naccording to the Apostle, ?are hid all the treasures of wisdom and
\nknowledge.? [293] But the soul cannot reach these hidden treasures
\nunless it first passes through the thicket of interior and exterior
\nsuffering: for even such knowledge of the mysteries of Christ as is
\npossible in this life cannot be had without great sufferings, and
\nwithout many intellectual and moral gifts, and without previous
\nspiritual exercises; for all these gifts are far inferior to this
\nknowledge of the mysteries of Christ, being only a preparation for it.<\/p>\n
4. Thus God said to Moses, when he asked to see His glory, ?Man shall
\nnot see Me and live.? God, however, said that He would show him all
\nthat could be revealed in this life; and so He set Moses ?in a hole of
\nthe rock,? which is Christ, where he might see His ?back parts?; [294]
\nthat is, He made him understand the mysteries of the Sacred Humanity.<\/p>\n
5. The soul longs to enter in earnest into these caverns of Christ,
\nthat it may be absorbed, transformed, and inebriated in the love and
\nknowledge of His mysteries, hiding itself in the bosom of the Beloved.
\nIt is into these caverns that He invites the bride, in the Canticle, to
\nenter, saying: ?Arise, My love, My beautiful one, and come; My dove in
\nthe clefts of the rock, in the hollow places of the wall.? [295] These
\nclefts of the rock are the caverns of which we are here speaking, and
\nto which the bride refers, saying:<\/p>\n
?And there we shall enter in.?<\/p>\n
6. That is, in the knowledge of the divine mysteries. The bride does
\nnot say ?I will enter? alone, which seems the most fitting — seeing
\nthat the Bridegroom has no need to enter in again — but ?we will
\nenter,? that is, the Bridegroom and the bride, to show that this is not
\nthe work of the bride, but of the Bridegroom with her. Moreover,
\ninasmuch as God and the soul are now united in the state of spiritual
\nmarriage, the soul does nothing of itself without God. To say ?we will
\nenter,? is as much as to say, ?there shall we transform ourselves? —
\nthat is, ?I shall be transformed in You through the love of Your divine
\nand sweet judgments?: for in the knowledge of the predestination of the
\njust and in the foresight of the wicked, wherein the Father prevented
\nthe just in the benedictions of His sweetness in Jesus Christ His Son,
\nthe soul is transformed in a most exalted and perfect way in the love
\nof God according to this knowledge, giving thanks to the Father, and
\nloving Him again and again with great sweetness and delight, for the
\nsake of Jesus Christ His Son. This the soul does in union with Christ
\nand together with Him. The delight flowing from this act of praise is
\nineffably sweet, and the soul speaks of it in the words that follow:<\/p>\n
?And taste of the new wine of the pomegranates.?<\/p>\n
7. The pomegranates here are the mysteries of Christ and the judgments
\nof the wisdom of God; His power and attributes, the knowledge of which
\nwe have from these mysteries; and they are infinite. For as
\npomegranates have many grains in their round orb, so in each one of the
\nattributes and judgments and power of God is a multitude of admirable
\narrangements and marvelous works contained within the sphere of power
\nand mystery, appertaining to those works. Consider the round form of
\nthe pomegranate; for each pomegranate signifies some one power and
\nattribute of God, which power or attribute is God Himself, symbolized
\nhere by the circular figure, which has neither beginning not end. It
\nwas in the contemplation of the judgments and mysteries of the wisdom
\nof God, which are infinite, that the bride said, ?His belly is of ivory
\nset with sapphires.? [296] The sapphires are the mysteries and
\njudgments of the divine Wisdom, which is here signified by the ?belly?
\n— the sapphire being a precious stone of the color of the heavens when
\nclear and serene.<\/p>\n
8. The wine of the pomegranates which the bride says that she and the
\nBridegroom will taste is the fruition and joy of the love of God which
\noverflows the soul in the understanding and knowledge of His mysteries.
\nFor as the many grains of the pomegranate pressed together give forth
\nbut one wine, so all the marvels and magnificence of God, infused into
\nthe soul, issue in but one fruition and joy of love, which is the drink
\nof the Holy Spirit, and which the soul offers at once to God the Word,
\nits Bridegroom, with great tenderness of love.<\/p>\n
9. This divine drink the bride promised to the Bridegroom if He would
\nlead her into this deep knowledge: ?There You shall teach me,? says the
\nbride, ?and I will give You a cup of spiced wine, and new wine of my
\npomegranates.? [297] The soul calls them ?my pomegranates,? though they
\nare God’s Who had given them to it, and the soul offers them to God as
\nif they were its own, saying, ?We will taste of the wine of the
\npomegranates?; for when He states it He gives it to the soul to taste,
\nand when the soul tastes it, the soul gives it back to Him, and thus it
\nis that both taste it together.<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
IN the two previous stanzas the bride sung of those good things which
\nthe Bridegroom is to give her in everlasting bliss, namely, her
\ntransformation in the beauty of created and uncreated wisdom, and also
\nin the beauty of the union of the Word with flesh, wherein she shall
\nbehold His face as well as His back. Accordingly two things are set
\nbefore us in the following stanza. The first is the way in which the
\nsoul tastes of the divine wine of the pomegranates; the second is the
\nsoul’s putting before the Bridegroom the glory of its predestination.
\nAnd though these two things are spoken of separately, one after the
\nother, they are both involved in the one essential glory of the soul.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[292] 1 Cor. 10:4<\/p>\n
[293] Col. 2:3<\/p>\n
[294] Exod. 33:20-23<\/p>\n
[295] Cant. 2:13, 14<\/p>\n
[296] Cant. 5:14<\/p>\n
[297] Cant. 8:2
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXXVIII<\/p>\n
There you will show me<\/p>\n
That which my soul desired;<\/p>\n
And there You will give at once,<\/p>\n
O You, my life,<\/p>\n
That which You gave me the other day.<\/p>\n
THE reason why the soul longed to enter the caverns was that it might
\nattain to the consummation of the love of God, the object of its
\ncontinual desires; that is, that it might love God with the pureness
\nand perfection with which He has loved it, so that it might thereby
\nrequite His love. Hence in the present stanza the bride says to the
\nBridegroom that He will there show her what she had always aimed at in
\nall her actions, namely, that He would show her how to love Him
\nperfectly, as He has loved her. And, secondly, that He will give her
\nthat essential glory for which He has predestined her from the day of
\nHis eternity.<\/p>\n
?There You will show me That which my soul desired.?<\/p>\n
2. That which the soul aims at is equality in love with God, the object
\nof its natural and supernatural desire. He who loves cannot be
\nsatisfied if he does not feel that he loves as much as he is loved. And
\nwhen the soul sees that in the transformation in God, such as is
\npossible in this life, notwithstanding the immensity of its love, it
\ncannot equal the perfection of that love with which God loves it, it
\ndesires the clear transformation of glory in which it shall equal the
\nperfection of love with which it is itself beloved of God; it desires,
\nI say, the clear transformation of glory in which it shall equal His
\nlove.<\/p>\n
3. For though in this high state, which the soul reaches on earth,
\nthere is a real union of the will, yet it cannot reach that perfection
\nand strength of love which it will possess in the union of glory;
\nseeing that then, according to the Apostle, the soul will know God as
\nit is known of Him: ?Then I shall know even as I am known.? [298] That
\nis, ?I shall then love God even as I am loved by Him.? For as the
\nunderstanding of the soul will then be the understanding of God, and
\nits will the will of God, so its love will also be His love. Though in
\nheaven the will of the soul is not destroyed, it is so intimately
\nunited with the power of the will of God, Who loves it, that it loves
\nHim as strongly and as perfectly as it is loved of Him; both wills
\nbeing united in one sole will and one sole love of God.<\/p>\n
4. Thus the soul loves God with the will and strength of God Himself,
\nbeing made one with that very strength of love with which itself is
\nloved of God. This strength is of the Holy Spirit, in Whom the soul is
\nthere transformed. He is given to the soul to strengthen its love;
\nministering to it, and supplying in it, because of its transformation
\nin glory, that which is defective in it. In the perfect transformation,
\nalso, of the state of spiritual marriage, such as is possible on earth,
\nin which the soul is all clothed in grace, the soul loves in a certain
\nway in the Holy Spirit, Who is given to it in that transformation.<\/p>\n
5. We are to observe here that the bride does not say, ?There will You
\ngive me Your love,? though that is true — for that means only that God
\nwill love her — but that He will there show her how she is to love Him
\nwith that perfection at which she aims, because there in giving her His
\nlove He will at the same time show her how to love Him as He loves her.
\nFor God not only teaches the soul to love Himself purely, with a
\ndisinterested love, as He has loved us, but He also enables it to love
\nHim with that strength with which He loves the soul, transforming it in
\nHis love, wherein He bestows upon it His own power, so that it may love
\nHim. It is as if He put an instrument in its hand, taught it the use
\nthereof, and played upon it together with the soul. This is showing the
\nsoul how it is to love, and at the same time endowing it with the
\ncapacity of loving.<\/p>\n
6. The soul is not satisfied until it reaches this point, neither would
\nit be satisfied even in heaven, unless it felt, as St. Thomas teaches,
\n[299] that it loved God as much as it is loved of Him. And as I said of
\nthe state of spiritual marriage of which I am speaking, there is now at
\nthis time, though it cannot be that perfect love in glory, a certain
\nvivid vision and likeness of that perfection, which is wholly
\nindescribable.<\/p>\n
?And there You will give me at once, O You my life, that which You gave
\nme the other day.?<\/p>\n
7. What He will give is the essential glory which consists in the
\nvision of God. Before proceeding further it is requisite to solve a
\nquestion which arises here, namely, Why is it, seeing that essential
\nglory consists in the vision of God, and not in loving Him, the soul
\nsays that its longing is for His love, and not for the essential glory?
\nWhy is it that the soul begins the stanza with referring to His love,
\nand then introduces the subject of the essential glory afterwards, as
\nif it were something of less importance?<\/p>\n
8. There are two reasons for this. The first is this: As the whole aim
\nof the soul is love, the seat of which is in the will, the property of
\nwhich is to give and not to receive — the property of the
\nunderstanding, the subject of essential glory, being to receive and not
\nto give — to the soul inebriated with love the first consideration is
\nnot the essential glory which God will bestow upon it, but the entire
\nsurrender of itself to Him in true love, without any regard to its own
\nadvantage.<\/p>\n
9. The second reason is that the second object is included in the
\nfirst, and has been taken for granted in the previous stanzas, it being
\nimpossible to attain to the perfect love of God without the perfect
\nvision of Him. The question is solved by the first reason, for the soul
\nrenders to God by love that which is His due, but with the
\nunderstanding it receives from Him and does not give.<\/p>\n
10. I now resume the explanation of the stanza, and inquire what day is
\nmeant by the ?other day,? and what is it that God then gave the soul,
\nand what that is which it prays to receive afterwards in glory? By
\n?other day? is meant the day of the eternity of God, which is other
\nthan the day of time. In that day of eternity God predestined the soul
\nto glory, and determined the degree of glory which He would give it and
\nfreely gave from the beginning before He created it. This now, in a
\nmanner, so truly belongs to the soul that no event or accident, high or
\nlow, can ever take it away, for the soul will enjoy for ever that for
\nwhich God had predestined it from all eternity.<\/p>\n
11. This is that which He gave it ?the other day?; that which the soul
\nlongs now to possess visibly in glory. And what is that which He gave
\nit? That what ?eye has not seen nor ear has heard, neither has it
\nascended into the heart of man.? [300] ?The eye has not seen,? says
\nIsaiah, ?O God, beside You, what things You have prepared for them that
\nexpect You.? [301] The soul has no word to describe it, so it says
\n?what.? It is in truth the vision of God, and as there is no expression
\nby which we can explain what it is to see God, the soul says only ?that
\nwhich You gave me.?<\/p>\n
12. But that I may not leave the subject without saying something
\nfurther concerning it, I will repeat what Christ has said of it in the
\nRevelation of St. John, in many terms, phrases, and comparisons,
\nbecause a single word once uttered cannot describe it, for there is
\nmuch still unsaid, notwithstanding all that Christ has spoken at seven
\ndifferent times. ?To him that overcomes,? says He, ?I will give to eat
\nof the tree of life, which is in the paradise of My God.? [302] But as
\nthis does not perfectly describe it, He says again: ?Be faithful to
\ndeath; and I will give you the crown of life.? [303]<\/p>\n
13. This also is insufficient, and so He speaks again more obscurely,
\nbut explaining it more: ?To him that overcomes I will give the hidden
\nmanna, and will give him a white counter, and on the counter a new name
\nwritten which no man knows but he that receives it.? [304] And as even
\nthis is still insufficient, the Son of God speaks of great power and
\njoy, saying: ?He that shall overcome and keep My works to the end, I
\nwill give him power over the nations: and he shall rule them with a rod
\nof iron, and as a vessel of the potter they shall be broken: as I also
\nhave received of My Father. And I will give him the morning star.?
\n[305] Not satisfied with these words, He adds: ?He that shall overcome
\nshall thus be vested in white garments, and I will not put his name out
\nof the book of life, and I will confess his name before My Father.?
\n[306]<\/p>\n
14. Still, all this falls short. He speaks of it in words of
\nunutterable majesty and grandeur: ?He that shall overcome I will make
\nHim a pillar in the temple of My God, and he shall go out no more; and
\nI will write upon him the name of My God, and the name of the city of
\nMy God, the new Jerusalem which descends out of heaven from My God, and
\nMy new name.? [307] The seventh time He says: ?He that shall overcome I
\nwill give to him to sit with Me in My throne: as I also have overcome,
\nand sat with My Father in His throne. He that has an ear let him hear
\nwhat the Spirit says to the Churches.? [308]<\/p>\n
15. These are the words of the Son of God; all of which tend to
\ndescribe that which was given to the soul. The words correspond most
\naccurately with it, but still they do not explain it, because it
\ninvolves infinite good. The noblest expressions befit it, but none of
\nthem reach it, no, not all together.<\/p>\n
16. Let us now see whether David has said anything of it. In one of the
\nPsalms he says, ?O how great is the multitude of your sweetness, O
\nLord, which You have hidden for them that fear You.? [309] In another
\nplace he calls it a ?torrent of pleasure,? saying, ?You shall make them
\ndrink of the torrent of Your pleasure.? [310] And as he did not
\nconsider this enough, he says again, ?You have prevented him with
\nblessings of sweetness.? [311] The expression that rightly fits this
\n?that? of the soul, namely, its predestined bliss, cannot be found. Let
\nus, therefore, rest satisfied with what the soul has used in reference
\nto it, and explain the words as follows:<\/p>\n
?That which You gave me.?<\/p>\n
17. That is, ?That weight of glory to which You predestined me, O my
\nBridegroom, in the day of Your eternity, when it was Your good pleasure
\nto decree my creation, You will then give me in my day of my betrothal
\nand of my nuptials, in my day of the joy of my heart, when, released
\nfrom the burden of the flesh, led into the deep caverns of Your bridal
\nchamber and gloriously transformed in You, we drink the wine of the
\nsweet pomegranates.?<\/p>\n
NOTE<\/p>\n
BUT inasmuch as the soul, in the state of spiritual marriage, of which
\nI am now speaking, cannot but know something of this ?that,? seeing
\nthat because of its transformation in God something of it must be
\nexperienced by it, it will not omit to say something on the subject,
\nthe pledges and signs of which it is conscious of in itself, as it is
\nwritten: ?Who can withhold the words He has conceived [312] Hence in
\nthe following stanza the soul says something of the fruition which it
\nshall have in the beatific vision, explaining so far as it is possible
\nthe nature and the manner of it.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[298] 1 Cor. 13:12<\/p>\n
[299] Opusc de Beatitudine,’ ch. 2.<\/p>\n
[300] 1 Cor. 2:9<\/p>\n
[301] Isa. 64:4<\/p>\n
[302] Rev. 2:7<\/p>\n
[303] Rev. 2:10<\/p>\n
[304] Rev. 2:17<\/p>\n
[305] Rev. 2:26-28<\/p>\n
[306] Rev. 3:5<\/p>\n
[307] Rev. 3:12<\/p>\n
[308] Rev. 3:21,22<\/p>\n
[309] Ps. 30:20<\/p>\n
[310] Ps. 35:9<\/p>\n
[311] Ps. 20:4<\/p>\n
[312] Job 4:2
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XXXIX<\/p>\n
The breathing of the air,<\/p>\n
The song of the sweet nightingale,<\/p>\n
The grove and its beauty<\/p>\n
In the serene night,<\/p>\n
With the flame that consumes, and gives no pain.<\/p>\n
THE soul refers here, under five different expressions, to that which
\nthe Bridegroom is to give it in the beatific transformation. 1. The
\naspiration of the Holy Spirit of God after it, and its own aspiration
\nafter God. 2. Joyous praise of God in the fruition of Him. 3. The
\nknowledge of creatures and the order of them. 4. The pure and clear
\ncontemplation of the divine essence. 5. Perfect transformation in the
\ninfinite love of God.<\/p>\n
?The breathing of the air.?<\/p>\n
2. This is a certain faculty which God will there give the soul in the
\ncommunication of the Holy Spirit, Who, like one breathing, raises the
\nsoul by His divine aspiration, informs it, strengthens it, so that it
\ntoo may breathe in God with the same aspiration of love which the
\nFather breathes with the Son, and the Son with the Father, which is the
\nHoly Spirit Himself, Who is breathed into the soul in the Father and
\nthe Son in that transformation so as to unite it to Himself; for the
\ntransformation will not be true and perfect if the soul is not
\ntransformed in the Three Persons of the Most Holy Trinity in a clear
\nmanifest degree. This breathing of the Holy Spirit in the soul, whereby
\nGod transforms it in Himself, is to the soul a joy so deep, so
\nexquisite, and so grand that no mortal tongue can describe it, no human
\nunderstanding, as such, conceive it in any degree; for even that which
\npasses in the soul with respect to the communication which takes place
\nin its transformation wrought in this life cannot be described, because
\nthe soul united with God and transformed in Him breathes in God that
\nvery divine aspiration which God breathes Himself in the soul when it
\nis transformed in Him.<\/p>\n
3. In the transformation which takes place in this life, this breathing
\nof God in the soul, and of the soul in God, is of most frequent
\noccurrence, and the source of the most exquisite delight of love to the
\nsoul, but not however in the clear and manifest degree which it will
\nhave in the life to come. This, in my opinion, is what St. Paul
\nreferred to when he said: ?Because you are sons, God has sent the
\nSpirit of His Son into your hearts, crying Abba, Father.? [313] The
\nblessed in the life to come, and the perfect in this, thus experience
\nit.<\/p>\n
4. Nor is it to be thought possible that the soul should be capable of
\nso great a thing as that it should breathe in God as God in it, in the
\nway of participation. For granting that God has bestowed upon it so
\ngreat a favor as to unite it to the most Holy Trinity, whereby it
\nbecomes like God, and God by participation, is it altogether incredible
\nthat it should exercise the faculties of its understanding, perform its
\nacts of knowledge and of love, or, to speak more accurately, should
\nhave it all done in the Holy Trinity together with It, as the Holy
\nTrinity itself? This, however, takes place by communication and
\nparticipation, God Himself effecting it in the soul, for this is ?to be
\ntransformed in the Three Persons? in power, wisdom, and love, and
\nherein it is that the soul becomes like God, Who, that it might come to
\nthis, created it to His own image and likeness.<\/p>\n
5. How this can be so cannot be explained in any other way than by
\nshowing how the Son of God has raised us to so high a state, and
\nmerited for us the ?power to be made the sons of God.? [314] He prayed
\nto the Father, saying: ?Father, I will that where I am they also whom
\nYou have given Me may be with Me, that they may see My glory which You
\nhave given Me.? [315] That is, ?that they may do by participation in Us
\nwhat I do naturally, namely, breathe the Holy Spirit.? He says also:
\n?Not for them only do I pray, but for them also who through their word
\nshall believe in Me; that they all may be one, as You, Father, in Me,
\nand I in You, that they also may be one in Us: that the world may
\nbelieve that You have sent Me. And the glory which You have given Me, I
\nhave given to them: that they may be one as We also are one. I in them
\nand You in Me, that they may be made perfect in one, and the world may
\nknow that You have sent Me, and have loved them as You have also loved
\nMe,? [316] — that is, in bestowing upon them that love which He
\nbestows upon the Son, though not naturally as upon Him, but in the way
\nI speak of, in the union and transformation of love.<\/p>\n
6. We are not to suppose from this that our Lord prayed that the saints
\nmight become one in essence and nature, as the Father and the Son are;
\nbut that they might become one in the union of love as the Father and
\nthe Son are one in the oneness of love. Souls have by participation
\nthat very God which the Son has by nature, and are therefore really
\ngods by participation like unto God and of His society.<\/p>\n
7. St. Peter speaks of this as follows: ?Grace to you and peace be
\naccomplished in the knowledge of God, and Christ Jesus our Lord; as all
\nthings of His divine power, which pertain to life and godliness, are
\ngiven us by the knowledge of Him Who has called us by His own proper
\nglory and virtue, by Whom He has given us most great and precious
\npromises: that by these you may be made partakers of the divine
\nnature.? [317] Thus far St. Peter, who clearly teaches that the soul
\nwill be a partaker of God Himself, and will do, together with Him, the
\nwork of the Most Holy Trinity, because of the substantial union between
\nthe soul and God. And though this union is perfect only in the life to
\ncome, yet even in this, in the state of perfection, which the soul is
\nsaid now to have attained, some anticipation of its sweetness is given
\nit, in the way I am speaking of, though in a manner wholly ineffable.<\/p>\n
8. O souls created for this and called to this, what are you doing?
\nWhat are your occupations? Your aim is meanness, and your enjoyments
\nmisery. Oh, wretched blindness of the children of Adam, blind to so
\ngreat a light, and deaf to so clear a voice; you do not see that, while
\nseeking after greatness and glory, you are miserable and contemptible,
\nignorant, and unworthy of blessings so great. I now proceed to the
\nsecond expression which the soul has made use of to describe that which
\nHe gave it.<\/p>\n
?The song of the sweet nightingale.?<\/p>\n
9. Out of this ?breathing of the air? comes the sweet voice of the
\nBeloved addressing Himself to the soul, in which the soul sends forth
\nits own sweet song of joy to Him. Both are meant by the song of the
\nnightingale. As the song of the nightingale is heard in the spring of
\nthe year, when the cold, and rain, and changes of winter are past,
\nfilling the ear with melody, and the mind with joy; so, in the true
\nintercourse and transformation of love, which takes place in this life,
\nthe bride, now protected and delivered from all trials and changes of
\nthe world, detached, and free from the imperfections, sufferings, and
\ndarkness both of mind and body, becomes conscious of a new spring in
\nliberty, largeness, and joy of spirit, in which she hears the sweet
\nvoice of the Bridegroom, Who is her sweet nightingale, renewing and
\nrefreshing the very substance of her soul, now prepared for the journey
\nof everlasting life.<\/p>\n
10. That voice is sweet to her ears, and calls her sweetly, as it is
\nwritten: ?Arise, make haste, My love, My dove, My beautiful one, and
\ncome. For winter is now past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers
\nhave appeared in our land, the time of pruning is come: the voice of
\nthe turtle is heard in our land.? [318] When the bride hears the voice
\nof the Bridegroom in her inmost soul, she feels that her troubles are
\nover and her prosperity begun. In the refreshing comfort and sweet
\nsense of this voice she, too, like the nightingale, sends forth a new
\nsong of rejoicing to God, in unison with Him Who now moves her to do
\nso.<\/p>\n
11. It is for this that the Beloved sings, that the bride in unison
\nwith Him may sing to God; this is the aim and desire of the Bridegroom,
\nthat the soul should sing with the spirit joyously to God; and this is
\nwhat He asks of the bride in the Canticle: ?Arise, my love, my
\nbeautiful one, and come; my dove in the clefts of the rock, in the
\nhollow places of the wall, show me your face, let your voice sound in
\nmy ears.? [319]<\/p>\n
12. The ears of God signify the desire He has that the soul should sing
\nin perfect joy. And that this song may be perfect, the Bridegroom bids
\nthe soul to send it forth, and to let it sound in the clefts of the
\nrock, that is, in the transformation which is the fruit of the
\nmysteries of Christ, of which I spoke just now. [320] And because in
\nthis union of the soul with God, the soul sings to Him together with
\nHim, in the way I spoke of when I was speaking of love, [321] the song
\nof praise is most perfect and pleasing to God; for the acts of the
\nsoul, in the state of perfection, are most perfect; and thus the song
\nof its rejoicing is sweet to God as well as to itself.<\/p>\n
13. ?Your voice is sweet,? [322] says the Bridegroom, ?not only to you,
\nbut also to Me, for as we are one, your voice is also in unison and one
\nwith Mine.? This is the Canticle which the soul sings in the
\ntransformation which takes place in this life, about which no
\nexaggeration is possible. But as this song is not so perfect as the new
\nsong in the life of glory, the soul, having a foretaste of that by what
\nit feels on earth, shadows forth by the grandeur of this the
\nmagnificence of that in glory, which is beyond all comparison nobler,
\nand calls it to mind and says that what its portion there will be is
\nthe song of the sweet nightingale.<\/p>\n
?The grove and its beauty.?<\/p>\n
14. This is the third thing which the Bridegroom is to give the soul.
\nThe grove, because it contains many plants and animals, signifies God
\nas the Creator and Giver of life to all creatures, which have their
\nbeing and origin from Him, reveal Him and make Him known as the
\nCreator. The beauty of the grove, which the soul prays for, is not only
\nthe grace, wisdom, and loveliness which flow from God over all created
\nthings, whether in heaven or on earth, but also the beauty of the
\nmutual harmony and wise arrangement of the inferior creation, and the
\nhigher also, and of the mutual relations of both. The knowledge of this
\ngives the soul great joy and delight. The fourth request is:<\/p>\n
?In the serene night.?<\/p>\n
15. That is, contemplation, in which the soul desires to behold the
\ngrove. It is called night, because contemplation is dim; and that is
\nthe reason why it is also called mystical theology — that is, the
\nsecret or hidden wisdom of God, where, without the sound of words, or
\nthe intervention of any bodily or spiritual sense, as it were in
\nsilence and in repose, in the darkness of sense and nature, God teaches
\nthe soul — and the soul knows not how — in a most secret and hidden
\nway.<\/p>\n
16. Some spiritual writers call this ?understanding without
\nunderstanding,? because it does not take place in what philosophers
\ncall the active understanding which is conversant with the forms,
\nfancies, and apprehensions of the physical faculties, but in the
\nunderstanding as it is possible and passive, which without receiving
\nsuch forms receives passively only the substantial knowledge of them
\nfree from all imagery. This occurs without effort or exertion on its
\npart, and for this reason contemplation is called night, in which the
\nsoul through the channel of its transformation learns in this life that
\nit already possesses, in a supreme degree, this divine grove, together
\nwith its beauty.<\/p>\n
17. Still, however clear may be its knowledge, it is dark night in
\ncomparison with that of the blessed, for which the soul prays. Hence,
\nwhile it prays for the clear contemplation, that is, the fruition of
\nthe grove, and its beauty; with the other objects here enumerated, it
\nsays, let it be in the night now serene; that is, in the clear beatific
\ncontemplation: let the night of dim contemplation cease here below, and
\nchange into the clear contemplation of the serene vision of God above.
\nThus the serene night is the clear and unclouded contemplation of the
\nface of God. It was to this night of contemplation that David referred
\nwhen he said, ?Night shall be my light in my pleasures?; [323] that is,
\nwhen I shall have my delight in the essential vision of God, the night
\nof contemplation will have dawned in the day and light of my
\nunderstanding.<\/p>\n
?With the flame that consumes, and gives no pain.?<\/p>\n
18. This flame is the love of the Holy Spirit. ?Consumes? means
\nabsolute perfection. Therefore, when the soul says that the Beloved
\nwill give it all that is mentioned in this stanza, and that they will
\nbe its possession in love absolute and perfect, all of them and itself
\nwith them in perfect love, and that without pain, its purpose is to
\nshow forth the utter perfection of love. Love, to be perfect, must have
\nthese two properties: it must consume and transform the soul in God;
\nthe burning and transformation wrought in the soul by the flame must
\ngive no pain. But this can be only in the state of the blessed, where
\nthe flame is sweet love, for in this transformation of the soul therein
\nthere is a blessed agreement and contentment on both sides, and no
\nchange to a greater or less degree gives pain, as before, when the soul
\nhad attained to the state of perfect love.<\/p>\n
19. But the soul having attained to this state abides in its love of
\nGod, a love so like His and so sweet, God being, as Moses says, [324] a
\nconsuming fire — ?the Lord your God is a consuming fire? — that it
\nperfects and renews it. But this transformation is not like that which
\nis wrought in this life, which though most perfect and in love
\nconsummate was still in some measure consuming the soul and wearing it
\naway. It was like fire in burning coals, for though the coals may be
\ntransformed into fire, and made like it, and ceased from seething, and
\nsmoke no longer arises from them as before they were wholly transformed
\ninto fire, still, though they have become perfect fire, the fire
\nconsumes them and reduces them to ashes.<\/p>\n
20. So is it with the soul which in this life is transformed by perfect
\nlove: for though it is wholly conformed, yet it still suffers, in some
\nmeasure, both pain and loss. Pain, on account of the beatific
\ntransformation which is still wanting; loss, through the weakness and
\ncorruption of the flesh coming in contact with love so strong and so
\ndeep; for everything that is grand hurts and pains our natural
\ninfirmity, as it is written, ?The corruptible body is a load upon the
\nsoul.? [325] But in the life of bliss there will be neither loss nor
\npain, though the sense of the soul will be most acute, and its love
\nwithout measure, for God will give power to the former and strength to
\nthe latter, perfecting the understanding in His wisdom and the will in
\nHis love.<\/p>\n
21. As, in the foregoing stanzas, and in the one which follows, the
\nbride prays for the boundless knowledge of God, for which she requires
\nthe strongest and the deepest love that she may love Him in proportion
\nto the grandeur of His communications, she prays now that all these
\nthings may be bestowed upon her in love consummated, perfect, and
\nstrong.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[313] Gal. 4:6<\/p>\n
[314] John 1:12<\/p>\n
[315] John 17:24<\/p>\n
[316] John 17:20-23<\/p>\n
[317] 2 Pet. 1:2-4<\/p>\n
[318] Cant. 2:10-12<\/p>\n
[319] Cant. 2:13, 14<\/p>\n
[320] Stanza xxxvii. sect. 5.<\/p>\n
[321] Stanza xxxviii. sect. 6.<\/p>\n
[322] Cant. 2:14<\/p>\n
[323] Ps. 138:11<\/p>\n
[324] Deut. 4:24<\/p>\n
[325] Wisd. 9:15
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
STANZA XL<\/p>\n
None saw it;<\/p>\n
Neither did Aminadab appear<\/p>\n
The siege was intermitted,<\/p>\n
And the cavalry dismounted<\/p>\n
At the sight of the waters.<\/p>\n
THE bride perceiving that the desire of her will is now detached from
\nall things, cleaving to God with most fervent love; that the sensual
\npart of the soul, with all its powers, faculties, and desires, is now
\nconformed to the spirit; that all rebellion is quelled forever; that
\nSatan is overcome and driven far away in the varied contest of the
\nspiritual struggle; that her soul is united and transformed in the rich
\nabundance of the heavenly gifts; and that she herself is now prepared,
\nstrong and apparelled, ?leaning upon her Beloved,? to go up ?by the
\ndesert? [326] of death; full of joy to the glorious throne of her
\nespousals, — she is longing for the end, and puts before the eyes of
\nher Bridegroom, in order to influence Him the more, all that is
\nmentioned in the present stanza, these five considerations:<\/p>\n
2. The first is that the soul is detached from all things and a
\nstranger to them. The second is that the devil is overcome and put to
\nflight. The third is that the passions are subdued, and the natural
\ndesires mortified. The fourth and the fifth are that the sensual and
\nlower nature of the soul is changed and purified, and so conformed to
\nthe spiritual, as not only not to hinder spiritual blessings, but is,
\non the contrary, prepared for them, for it is even a partaker already,
\naccording to its capacity, of those which have been bestowed upon it.<\/p>\n
?None saw it.?<\/p>\n
3. That is, my soul is so detached, so denuded, so lonely, so estranged
\nfrom all created things, in heaven and earth; it has become so
\nrecollected in You, that nothing whatever can come within sight of that
\nmost intimate joy which I have in You. That is, there is nothing
\nwhatever that can cause me pleasure with its sweetness, or disgust with
\nits vileness; for my soul is so far removed from all such things,
\nabsorbed in such profound delight in You, that nothing can behold me.
\nThis is not all, for:<\/p>\n
?Neither did Aminadab appear.?<\/p>\n
4. Aminadab, in the Holy Writings, signifies the devil; that is the
\nenemy of the soul, in a spiritual sense, who is ever fighting against
\nit, and disturbing it with his innumerable artillery, that it may not
\nenter into the fortress and secret place of interior recollection with
\nthe Bridegroom. There, the soul is so protected, so strong, so
\ntriumphant in virtue which it then practices, so defended by God’s
\nright hand, that the devil not only dares not approach it, but runs
\naway from it in great fear, and does not venture to appear. The
\npractice of virtue, and the state of perfection to which the soul has
\ncome, is a victory over Satan, and causes him such terror that he
\ncannot present himself before it. Thus Aminadab did not appear with any
\nright to keep the soul away from the object of its desire.<\/p>\n
?The siege was intermitted.?<\/p>\n
5. By the siege is meant the passions and desires, which, when not
\novercome and mortified, surround the soul and fight against it on all
\nsides. Hence the term ?siege? is applied to them. This siege is
\n?intermitted? — that is, the passions are subject to reason and the
\ndesires mortified. Under these circumstances the soul entreats the
\nBeloved to communicate to it those graces for which it has prayed, for
\nnow the siege is no hindrance. Until the four passions of the soul are
\nordered in reason according to God, and until the desires are mortified
\nand purified, the soul is incapable of seeing God.<\/p>\n
?The cavalry dismounted at the sight of the waters.?<\/p>\n
6. The waters are the spiritual joys and blessings which the soul now
\nenjoys interiorly with God. The cavalry is the bodily senses of the
\nsensual part, interior as well as exterior, for they carry with them
\nthe phantasms and figures of their objects. They dismount now at the
\nsight of the waters, because the sensual and lower part of the soul in
\nthe state of spiritual marriage is purified, and in a certain way
\nspiritualized, so that the soul with its powers of sense and natural
\nforces becomes so recollected as to participate and rejoice, in their
\nway, in the spiritual grandeurs which God communicates to it in the
\nspirit within. To this the Psalmist referred when he said, ?My heart
\nand my flesh have rejoiced in the living God.? [327]<\/p>\n
7. It is to be observed that the cavalry did not dismount to taste of
\nthe waters, but only at the sight of them, because the sensual part of
\nthe soul, with its powers, is incapable of tasting substantially and
\nproperly the spiritual blessings, not merely in this life, but also in
\nthe life to come. Still, because of a certain overflowing of the
\nspirit, they are sensibly refreshed and delighted, and this delight
\nattracts them — that is, the senses with their bodily powers —
\ntowards that interior recollection where the soul is drinking the
\nwaters of the spiritual benedictions. This condition of the senses is
\nrather a dismounting at the sight of the waters than a dismounting for
\nthe purpose of seeing or tasting them. The soul says of them that they
\ndismounted, not that they went, or did anything else, and the meaning
\nis that in the communication of the sensual with the spiritual part of
\nthe soul, when the spiritual waters become its drink, the natural
\noperations subside and merge into spiritual recollection.<\/p>\n
8. All these perfections and dispositions of the soul the bride sets
\nforth before her Beloved, the Son of God, longing at the same time to
\nbe translated by Him out of the spiritual marriage, to which God has
\nbeen pleased to advance her in the Church militant, to the glorious
\nmarriage of the Church triumphant. To that end may He bring of His
\nmercy all those who call upon the most sweet name of Jesus, the
\nBridegroom of faithful souls, to Whom be all honor and glory, together
\nwith the Father and the Holy Spirit,<\/p>\n
IN SAECULA SAECULORUM.
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
[326] Cant. 3:6; 8:5<\/p>\n
[327] Ps. 83:3
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
Indexes
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
Index of Scripture References<\/p>\n
Genesis<\/p>\n
[1]1:31\u00a0\u00a0 [2]2:24\u00a0\u00a0 [3]6:21\u00a0\u00a0 [4]8:9<\/p>\n
Exodus<\/p>\n
[5]3:7\u00a0\u00a0 [6]3:8\u00a0\u00a0 [7]33:12\u00a0\u00a0 [8]33:12\u00a0\u00a0 [9]33:13\u00a0\u00a0 [10]33:13
\n[11]33:20\u00a0\u00a0 [12]33:20-23\u00a0\u00a0 [13]33:22\u00a0\u00a0 [14]33:23\u00a0\u00a0 [15]33:23
\n[16]34:30<\/p>\n
Deuteronomy<\/p>\n
[17]4:24\u00a0\u00a0 [18]30:20\u00a0\u00a0 [19]31:21\u00a0\u00a0 [20]32:33<\/p>\n
Judges<\/p>\n
[21]13:22\u00a0\u00a0 [22]16:15<\/p>\n
2 Kingdoms<\/p>\n
[23]14:14<\/p>\n
1 Kings<\/p>\n
[24]18:1\u00a0\u00a0 [25]19:12<\/p>\n
1 Chronicles<\/p>\n
[26]11:18<\/p>\n
Esther<\/p>\n
[27]6:11<\/p>\n
Job<\/p>\n
[28]3:24\u00a0\u00a0 [29]4:2\u00a0\u00a0 [30]4:12-16\u00a0\u00a0 [31]6:8\u00a0\u00a0 [32]6:8-10\u00a0\u00a0 [33]6:9
\n[34]7:2-4\u00a0\u00a0 [35]9:11\u00a0\u00a0 [36]14:5\u00a0\u00a0 [37]41:6\u00a0\u00a0 [38]41:7\u00a0\u00a0 [39]41:24
\n[40]42:5<\/p>\n
Psalms<\/p>\n
[41]9:10\u00a0\u00a0 [42]15:4\u00a0\u00a0 [43]16:15\u00a0\u00a0 [44]17:12\u00a0\u00a0 [45]17:12\u00a0\u00a0 [46]17:13
\n[47]18:10-12\u00a0\u00a0 [48]20:4\u00a0\u00a0 [49]30:20\u00a0\u00a0 [50]33:8\u00a0\u00a0 [51]33:20
\n[52]33:22\u00a0\u00a0 [53]34:3\u00a0\u00a0 [54]35:9\u00a0\u00a0 [55]35:9\u00a0\u00a0 [56]35:9\u00a0\u00a0 [57]37:11
\n[58]38:4\u00a0\u00a0 [59]38:4\u00a0\u00a0 [60]41:1\u00a0\u00a0 [61]41:2\u00a0\u00a0 [62]44:10\u00a0\u00a0 [63]49:11
\n[64]53:5\u00a0\u00a0 [65]58:10\u00a0\u00a0 [66]61:2\u00a0\u00a0 [67]61:3\u00a0\u00a0 [68]61:11\u00a0\u00a0 [69]62:2
\n[70]67:14\u00a0\u00a0 [71]67:16\u00a0\u00a0 [72]67:34\u00a0\u00a0 [73]68:2\u00a0\u00a0 [74]72:21\u00a0\u00a0 [75]72:21
\n[76]72:22\u00a0\u00a0 [77]72:22\u00a0\u00a0 [78]83:3\u00a0\u00a0 [79]83:3\u00a0\u00a0 [80]83:4\u00a0\u00a0 [81]96:2
\n[82]96:3\u00a0\u00a0 [83]101:8\u00a0\u00a0 [84]115:15\u00a0\u00a0 [85]118:32\u00a0\u00a0 [86]118:131
\n[87]138:11\u00a0\u00a0 [88]138:12\u00a0\u00a0 [89]144:16<\/p>\n
Proverbs<\/p>\n
[90]2:4\u00a0\u00a0 [91]2:5\u00a0\u00a0 [92]4:23\u00a0\u00a0 [93]8:31\u00a0\u00a0 [94]8:31\u00a0\u00a0 [95]15:15
\n[96]30:1\u00a0\u00a0 [97]30:2<\/p>\n
Ecclesiastes<\/p>\n
[98]9:1<\/p>\n
Song of Solomon<\/p>\n
[99]1:3\u00a0\u00a0 [100]1:3\u00a0\u00a0 [101]1:4\u00a0\u00a0 [102]1:6\u00a0\u00a0 [103]1:10\u00a0\u00a0 [104]1:11
\n[105]1:15\u00a0\u00a0 [106]2:1\u00a0\u00a0 [107]2:1\u00a0\u00a0 [108]2:3\u00a0\u00a0 [109]2:4\u00a0\u00a0 [110]2:5
\n[111]2:6\u00a0\u00a0 [112]2:9\u00a0\u00a0 [113]2:10-12\u00a0\u00a0 [114]2:11\u00a0\u00a0 [115]2:12
\n[116]2:13\u00a0\u00a0 [117]2:13\u00a0\u00a0 [118]2:14\u00a0\u00a0 [119]2:14\u00a0\u00a0 [120]2:14\u00a0\u00a0 [121]2:14
\n[122]2:15\u00a0\u00a0 [123]3:1\u00a0\u00a0 [124]3:2\u00a0\u00a0 [125]3:4\u00a0\u00a0 [126]3:5\u00a0\u00a0 [127]3:5
\n[128]3:6\u00a0\u00a0 [129]3:7\u00a0\u00a0 [130]3:8\u00a0\u00a0 [131]3:9\u00a0\u00a0 [132]3:10\u00a0\u00a0 [133]3:11
\n[134]3:11\u00a0\u00a0 [135]4:1\u00a0\u00a0 [136]4:1\u00a0\u00a0 [137]4:4\u00a0\u00a0 [138]4:6\u00a0\u00a0 [139]4:9
\n[140]4:9\u00a0\u00a0 [141]4:12\u00a0\u00a0 [142]4:16\u00a0\u00a0 [143]5:1\u00a0\u00a0 [144]5:4\u00a0\u00a0 [145]5:6
\n[146]5:6\u00a0\u00a0 [147]5:7\u00a0\u00a0 [148]5:7\u00a0\u00a0 [149]5:8\u00a0\u00a0 [150]5:14\u00a0\u00a0 [151]6:1
\n[152]6:2\u00a0\u00a0 [153]6:2\u00a0\u00a0 [154]6:3\u00a0\u00a0 [155]6:3\u00a0\u00a0 [156]6:4\u00a0\u00a0 [157]6:6
\n[158]6:7\u00a0\u00a0 [159]6:9\u00a0\u00a0 [160]6:11\u00a0\u00a0 [161]6:11\u00a0\u00a0 [162]7:1\u00a0\u00a0 [163]7:10-12
\n[164]7:13\u00a0\u00a0 [165]8:1\u00a0\u00a0 [166]8:1\u00a0\u00a0 [167]8:2\u00a0\u00a0 [168]8:2\u00a0\u00a0 [169]8:5
\n[170]8:5\u00a0\u00a0 [171]8:6\u00a0\u00a0 [172]8:8\u00a0\u00a0 [173]30:1<\/p>\n
Isaiah<\/p>\n
[174]2:2\u00a0\u00a0 [175]2:3\u00a0\u00a0 [176]11:3\u00a0\u00a0 [177]24:16\u00a0\u00a0 [178]26:20\u00a0\u00a0 [179]43:3
\n[180]43:4\u00a0\u00a0 [181]45:3\u00a0\u00a0 [182]58:10-14\u00a0\u00a0 [183]64:4\u00a0\u00a0 [184]65:24
\n[185]66:12\u00a0\u00a0 [186]66:12<\/p>\n
Jeremiah<\/p>\n
[187]2:14\u00a0\u00a0 [188]2:15<\/p>\n
Lamentations<\/p>\n
[189]3:19<\/p>\n
Ezekiel<\/p>\n
[190]1:24\u00a0\u00a0 [191]16:5-14\u00a0\u00a0 [192]18:22<\/p>\n
Daniel<\/p>\n
[193]10:16<\/p>\n
Hosea<\/p>\n
[194]2:14\u00a0\u00a0 [195]2:20<\/p>\n
Nahum<\/p>\n
[196]1:9<\/p>\n
Zechariah<\/p>\n
[197]2:8<\/p>\n
Matthew<\/p>\n
[198]5:26\u00a0\u00a0 [199]6:6\u00a0\u00a0 [200]6:24\u00a0\u00a0 [201]7:14\u00a0\u00a0 [202]10:33
\n[203]13:12\u00a0\u00a0 [204]13:44\u00a0\u00a0 [205]13:44\u00a0\u00a0 [206]16:25\u00a0\u00a0 [207]20:6
\n[208]25:28<\/p>\n
Luke<\/p>\n
[209]1:13\u00a0\u00a0 [210]1:52\u00a0\u00a0 [211]2:25\u00a0\u00a0 [212]10:42\u00a0\u00a0 [213]11:9
\n[214]12:37\u00a0\u00a0 [215]15:5\u00a0\u00a0 [216]15:8\u00a0\u00a0 [217]15:9\u00a0\u00a0 [218]17:21<\/p>\n
John<\/p>\n
[219]1:3\u00a0\u00a0 [220]1:3\u00a0\u00a0 [221]1:4\u00a0\u00a0 [222]1:12\u00a0\u00a0 [223]1:16\u00a0\u00a0 [224]1:16
\n[225]1:18\u00a0\u00a0 [226]2:3\u00a0\u00a0 [227]4:14\u00a0\u00a0 [228]4:14\u00a0\u00a0 [229]7:39\u00a0\u00a0 [230]11:3
\n[231]12:29\u00a0\u00a0 [232]12:32\u00a0\u00a0 [233]15:7\u00a0\u00a0 [234]15:15\u00a0\u00a0 [235]17:3
\n[236]17:10\u00a0\u00a0 [237]17:20-23\u00a0\u00a0 [238]17:24\u00a0\u00a0 [239]20:15<\/p>\n
Acts<\/p>\n
[240]2:2\u00a0\u00a0 [241]17:28<\/p>\n
Romans<\/p>\n
[242]1:20\u00a0\u00a0 [243]8:13\u00a0\u00a0 [244]8:14\u00a0\u00a0 [245]8:23\u00a0\u00a0 [246]8:26\u00a0\u00a0 [247]11:33<\/p>\n
1 Corinthians<\/p>\n
[248]2:9\u00a0\u00a0 [249]2:14\u00a0\u00a0 [250]3:19\u00a0\u00a0 [251]6:17\u00a0\u00a0 [252]10:4\u00a0\u00a0 [253]13:2
\n[254]13:4-7\u00a0\u00a0 [255]13:10\u00a0\u00a0 [256]13:10\u00a0\u00a0 [257]13:12<\/p>\n
2 Corinthians<\/p>\n
[258]5:4\u00a0\u00a0 [259]6:16\u00a0\u00a0 [260]12:2-4\u00a0\u00a0 [261]12:3\u00a0\u00a0 [262]12:4
\n[263]12:4\u00a0\u00a0 [264]12:9<\/p>\n
Galatians<\/p>\n
[265]2:20\u00a0\u00a0 [266]2:20\u00a0\u00a0 [267]4:6\u00a0\u00a0 [268]5:17\u00a0\u00a0 [269]5:17<\/p>\n
Ephesians<\/p>\n
[270]2:15\u00a0\u00a0 [271]3:17-19\u00a0\u00a0 [272]6:11<\/p>\n
Philippians<\/p>\n
[273]1:21\u00a0\u00a0 [274]1:23\u00a0\u00a0 [275]4:7<\/p>\n
Colossians<\/p>\n
[276]2:3\u00a0\u00a0 [277]2:3\u00a0\u00a0 [278]3:14\u00a0\u00a0 [279]3:14\u00a0\u00a0 [280]3:14\u00a0\u00a0 [281]3:14<\/p>\n
Hebrews<\/p>\n
[282]1:3\u00a0\u00a0 [283]1:3<\/p>\n
James<\/p>\n
[284]1:17<\/p>\n
1 Peter<\/p>\n
[285]4:18<\/p>\n
2 Peter<\/p>\n
[286]1:2-4<\/p>\n
1 John<\/p>\n
[287]4:10\u00a0\u00a0 [288]4:18\u00a0\u00a0 [289]4:18<\/p>\n
Revelation<\/p>\n
[290]2:7\u00a0\u00a0 [291]2:10\u00a0\u00a0 [292]2:17\u00a0\u00a0 [293]2:26-28\u00a0\u00a0 [294]3:5
\n[295]3:12\u00a0\u00a0 [296]3:20\u00a0\u00a0 [297]3:21\u00a0\u00a0 [298]3:22\u00a0\u00a0 [299]10:9\u00a0\u00a0 [300]14:2
\n[301]14:2\u00a0\u00a0 [302]21:23\u00a0\u00a0 [303]22:1<\/p>\n
Tobit<\/p>\n
[304]5:12\u00a0\u00a0 [305]12:12\u00a0\u00a0 [306]14:4<\/p>\n
Wisdom of Solomon<\/p>\n
[307]1:7\u00a0\u00a0 [308]6:13\u00a0\u00a0 [309]8:1\u00a0\u00a0 [310]9:15\u00a0\u00a0 [311]9:15<\/p>\n
Baruch<\/p>\n
[312]3:10\u00a0\u00a0 [313]3:11<\/p>\n
Sirach<\/p>\n
[314]5:5\u00a0\u00a0 [315]9:14\u00a0\u00a0 [316]9:15\u00a0\u00a0 [317]41:1\u00a0\u00a0 [318]41:3
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n
Index of Latin Words and Phrases<\/p>\n
* [319]Justus et timoratus.
\n* [320]Omnia per Ipsum facta sunt, et sine Ipso factum est nihil:
\nQuod factum est, in Ipso vita erat
\n* [321]Ordo commendationis animae
\n* [322]coelesti sapientia refertos
\n* [323]divinitus instructus
\n__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
__________________________________________________________________ Title: A Spiritual Canticle of the Soul and the Bridegroom Christ Creator(s): John of the Cross, St. (1542-1591) Practical theology Practical religion. The Christian life Mysticism __________________________________________________________________ A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE OF THE SOUL AND THE BRIDEGROOM CHRIST BY ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS TRANSLATED BY DAVID LEWIS WITH CORRECTIONS AND AN INTRODUCTION BY BENEDICT…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"twitterCardType":"","cardImageID":0,"cardImage":"","cardTitle":"","cardDesc":"","cardImageAlt":"","cardPlayer":"","cardPlayerWidth":0,"cardPlayerHeight":0,"cardPlayerStream":"","cardPlayerCodec":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4701","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/purposedriven.ca\/wiki\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4701","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/purposedriven.ca\/wiki\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/purposedriven.ca\/wiki\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purposedriven.ca\/wiki\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purposedriven.ca\/wiki\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4701"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/purposedriven.ca\/wiki\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4701\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/purposedriven.ca\/wiki\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4701"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purposedriven.ca\/wiki\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4701"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purposedriven.ca\/wiki\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4701"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}