SECTION V. --The Life of Faith.
The fruit of these trials. The conduct of the submissive soul.
It results from all that has just been described that, in the path
of pure faith, all that takes place spiritually, physically, and
temporarily, has the aspect of death. This is not to be wondered
at. What else could be expected? It is natural to this state.
Gad has His plans for souls, and under this disguise He carries
them out very successfully. Under the name of "disguise"
I include ill-success, corporal infirmities, and spiritual weakness.
All succeeds, and turns to good in the hands of God. It is by
those things that are a trouble to nature that He prepares for
the accomplishment of His greatest designs. "Omnia cooperantur in bonum its qui secundum propositum vocati sunt sancti." "All things work together unto good to such as according to His purpose are called to be saints." (Rom. viii, 28). He brings life out of the shadow of death; therefore, when nature is afraid, faith, which takes everything in a good sense, is full of courage and confidence. To live by faith is to live by joy,
confidence, and certainty about all that has to be done or suffered
at each moment according to the designs of God. It is in order
to animate and to maintain this life of faith that God allows the
soul to be plunged into and carried away by the rough waters
of so many pains, troubles, difficulties, fatigues and overthrows;
for it requires faith to find God in all these things. The divine
life is given at every moment in a hidden but very sure manner,
under different appearances such as, the death of the body,
the supposed loss of the soul, and the confusion of all earthly
affairs. In all these, faith finds its food and support. It pierces
through all, and clings to the hand of God, the giver of life. Through all that does not partake of the nature of sin, the faithful
soul should proceed with confidence, taking it all as a veil, or
disguise of God whose immediate presence alarms and at the
same time reassures the faculties of the soul. In fact this great
God who consoles the humble, gives the soul in the midst of its
greatest desolation an interior assurance that it has nothing to
fear, provided it allows Him to act, and abandons itself entirely
to Him. It is grieved because it has lost its Well-beloved, and
yet something assures it that it possesses Him. It is troubled
and disturbed, yet nevertheless has in its depths I know not
what important grounds for attaching itself steadfastly to God.
"Truly," said Jacob, "God is in this place, and I knew it not"
(Gen. xxviii, 16). You seek God and He is everywhere; everything proclaims Him, everything gives Him to you. He walks
by your side, is around you and within you: there He lives,
and yet you seek Him. You seek your own idea of God while
all the time you possess Him substantially. You seek perfection, and it is in everything that presents itself to you. Your
sufferings, your actions, your attractions are the species under
which God gives Himself to you, while you are vainly striving
after sublime ideas which He by no means assumes in order to
dwell in you.
Martha tried to please Jesus by cooking nice dishes, but Mary
was content to be with Jesus in any way that He wished to give
Himself to her; but when Mary sought Him in the garden according to the idea she had formed of Him, He eluded her by presenting Himself in the form of a gardener. The Apostles saw Jesus,
but mistook Him for a phantom. God disguises Himself,
therefore, to raise the soul to the state of pure faith, to teach it
to find Him under every kind of appearance; for, when it has
discovered this secret of God, it is in vain for Him to disguise
Himself; it.says, "He is there, behind the wall, He is looking
through the lattice, looking from the windows" (Cant. ii, 9).
Oh! divine Love, hide yourself, proceed from one trial to
another, bind by attractions; blend, confuse, or break like threads
all the ideas and methods of the soul. May it stray hither and
thither for want of light, and be unable to see or understand
in what path it should walk; formerly it found. You dwelling
in Your ordinary guise; in the peaceful repose of solitude and
prayer, or in suffering; even in the consolations You give
to others, in the course of conversation, or in business; but now
after having tried every method known to please you, it has to
stand aside not seeing You in any of these things as in former
times. May the uselessness of its efforts teach it to seek You
henceforth in Yourself, which means to seek You everywhere,
in all things without distinction and without reflexion; for,
oh divine Love! what a mistake it is, not to find you in all
that is good, and in every creature. Why then seek You in any
other way than that by which You desire to give Yourself?
Why, divine Love, seek You under any other species than those
which You have chosen for Your Sacrament? The less there
is to be seen or felt so much the more scope for faith and
obedience. Do You not give fecundity to the root hidden underground,
and can You not, if You so will, make this darkness
in which You are pleased to keep me, fruitful? Live then,
little root of my heart, in the deep, invisible heart of God;
and by its power, send forth branches, leaves, flowers and
fruits, which, although invisible to yourself, are a pure joy and
nourishment to others. Without consulting your own taste,
give of your shade, flowers, and fruit to others. May all that
is grafted on you receive that indeterminate sap which will be
known only by the growth and appearance of those same grafts.
Become all to all, but as to yourself remain abandoned and
indifferent. Remain in the dark and narrow prison of your
miserable cocoon, little worm, until the warmth of grace forms
you, and sets you free. Then feed upon whatever leaves it
offers you, and do not regret, in the activity of abandonment,
the peace you have lost. Stop directly the divine action would
have you stop, and be content to lose, in the alternations of
repose and activity, in incomprehensible changes, all your
old formulas, methods and ways, to take upon you those designed for you by the divine action. Thus you will spin your
silk in secret, doing what you can neither see nor feel. You will
condemn in yourself a secret envy of your companions who are
apparently dead and motionless, because they have not yet
arrived at the point that you have attained; you continue to
admire them although you have surpassed them. May your
affliction in your abandonment continue while you spin a silk
in which the princes of the Church and of the world and all sorts
of souls will glory to be attired.
After that what will become of you, little worm? by what
outlet will you come forth? Oh! marvel of grace by which souls
are moulded in so many different shapes! Who can guess in
what direction grace will guide it? And who could guess either,
what nature does with a silkworm if he had not seen it working?
It is only necessary to provide it with leaves, and nature does
the rest.
Therefore no soul can tell from whence it came, nor whither
it is going; neither from what thought of God the divine wisdom
drew it, not to what end it tends. Nothing is left but an entire
passive abandonment, and to allow this divine Wisdom to act
without interfering by our own reflexions, examples and methods. We must act when the time to act comes, and cease when it is
time to stop; if necessary letting all be lost, and thus, acting or
remaining passive according to attraction and abandonment we,
insensibly, do, or leave undone without knowing what will be
the result; and after many changes the formed soul receives
wings and flies up to Heaven, leaving a plentiful harvest on earth
for other souls to gather.
