She describes the effects that remained with her after the Lord had granted her a favour, and gives much sound teaching as well. She speaks of the efforts that we must make to attain one more degree of glory, and of the high value we must set on it, allowing no trial to deprive us of a blessing that is eternal
IT is painful to me to say more than I have said already about the graces which the Lord has granted me. Even these are so many that people will find it hard to believe they have been granted to anyone as wicked as I. But in obedience to the Lord, who has commanded me to do so, and also to your Reverences, I will describe some more events, to His greater glory. May it please the Lord that it shall benefit some soul to see that His Majesty has been gracious to such a miserable creature as myself. How much more will He do for one who has served Him truly! Let everyone strive to please His Majesty, since he gives such pledges as these even in this life.
The first thing to understand is that in these graces which God grants to the soul, there are greater and lesser degrees of glory. For the glory, joy, and comfort conveyed by some visions so exceeds that of others that I am astonished at the diversities of bliss, even in this life. The joys and consolations granted by God in a vision or a rapture can be so various in scale that it seems impossible to desire anything in this life higher than the highest of them. Indeed the soul does not desire, and would never ask for, any greater happiness. Nevertheless, now that the Lord has informed me that there is a difference in heaven between the joys experienced by one and by another, and of the extent of it, I clearly see that here too, when it is the Lord’s pleasure, there is no measure in His giving. I wish that the same were true of my service to His Majesty, and that I devoted my whole life and strength and health to it; I would not wish by a single fault to lose one grain of my reward. I can say then that if I were asked whether I should prefer to endure all the trials in the world until the world itself ends and gain a little more glory afterwards, or to have no trials but one degree less – of glory, I would willingly accept every trial in exchange for a little more of the blissful contemplation of God’s greatness. For I see that he who best understands Him loves and praises Him best.
I do not mean that I should not be glad and count myself lucky to be in heaven, even if I were in the lowest place there. For since I have earned an equivalent place in hell, the Lord would be granting me a great favour in admitting me to heaven at all. May it please His Majesty to do so, and to disregard my grievous sins. What I really mean is that if the choice were mine and the Lord were pleased to offer me great trials to endure, whatever the cost to myself I should not care to lose anything at all by my own fault. Wretch that I am, by my many faults I have lost everything already!
It should also be observed that after each favour which the Lord granted me, whether vision or revelation, some great gain accrued to my soul; and from some visions the gain was very great. A vision of Christ left with me an impression of His very great beauty, which is with me still; and if a single vision was enough to effect this, how much more deeply must it have been imprinted by all the visions with which the Lord favoured me! I received one very great benefit, which was this. A very serious fault of mine which led me into great trouble was that if I began to see that someone liked me, and I happened to take to that person myself, I would become very fond of him. Then my memory would be drawn to dwell on that person, although I had no intention of offending God. But I would delight in seeing him and thinking of him, and in considering the good qualities that I saw in him; and this was such a harmful thing that it was ruining my soul. But once I had seen the Lord’s great beauty, I could find no one who seemed handsome to me in comparison, and no one to occupy my thoughts. For merely by turning the eyes of my mind on to the image that I carry in my soul, I become so entirely free that from that time forward everything I see has appeared nauseating to me in comparison with the excellencies and glories that I have glimpsed in the Lord. There is no knowledge and no kind of consolation that I value in the very least in comparison with the joy of hearing a single word from those divine lips – and how much more joyful I am when I hear many! Unless, for my sins, the Lord allows this memory to fade I do not think I shall ever be so deeply absorbed in anything that I shall not immediately regain my freedom by turning my thoughts back, even for a moment, to the Lord.
This fault of mine has troubled me in my relations with some of my confessors. I always feel a great affection for those who direct my soul. I think of them as so truly taking the place of God that my mind is largely taken up with them. I have always felt perfectly safe, however, and have therefore always behaved warmly towards them. But they, being God-fearing servants of God, have been afraid that I might become attached to them and bound up with them – in a spiritual way, of course – and have treated me curtly. This has happened after I have acquired the habit of obeying them; I have not felt this affection for them before. I used to laugh to myself when I saw what a mistake they had made. I did not always tell them outright how little I was attached to anybody, though I knew it myself. But I always reassured them, and when they had become more used to me, they realized the extent of my debt to the Lord. For these suspicions of theirs always came at the beginning of their dealings with me.
Once I had seen my Lord, I was in such continuous converse with Him that my love for Him and my confidence in Him greatly increased. I saw that, although He was God, He was also man, and that the weaknesses of men do not surprise Him. He understands our miserable nature, which is subject to frequent falls on account of that first sin for which He came to make reparation. Although He is the Lord, I can speak to Him as to a friend, because He is not, as I believe, like those whom we call lords on earth, whose entire lordship is conferred on them by others. Such lords have times of audience and chosen people who may speak with them. If a poor man has business with them, he must use roundabout methods, beg for favours and take all sorts of trouble. But supposing that his business is with a king! Then no one who is poor and not well-born can get near him. He has to find out who the king’s favourites are, and you can be sure that they are not people who despise the world. People who do so speak the truth, fear nothing, and have no need to. They are not at home in palaces, because they cannot act naturally there, but must keep quiet about what they dislike, and dare not even think about it for fear of falling from favour.
O King of glory and Lord of all kings, Your kingdom is not hedged about by trifles, for it is infinite. We have no need of third parties through whom to approach You. We have only to look at Your person to realize that You alone deserve the name of Lord. When You reveal Your majesty, You need no retinue or guard to convince us that You are a king. An earthly king cannot be recognized as such by his mere presence. Try though he may, no one will know that he is a king so long as he looks no different from the rest. The difference must be visible if it is to be recognized. So it is reasonable that kings should preserve their artificial authority. If they did not, no one would respect them. Their appearance of power does not spring from themselves; their authority must be conferred on them by others. O my Lord, O my King, who now could picture Your majesty? It is impossible not to see from Your presence that You are a mighty Emperor, for the sight of Your majesty strikes awe. But I am more awe-struck, O my Lord, to see how You combine majesty with humility, and by the love that You show to a miserable creature like me.
Once we have lost our first awe and terror at the sight of Your majesty, we can talk and converse with You about anything. But by then we have acquired a deeper fear of offending You, though not of the resulting punishment, for punishment is nothing compared with the loss of You. Here then are the benefits of this vision. But the soul is also greatly benefited by the results that it leaves behind. If the vision is of God, that will be clear from its effects when the soul receives light. But, as I have often said, the Lord often wishes it to remain in darkness and not to see the light. So it is not surprising that one who knows her own wickedness, as I do, should be afraid.
It happened only recently that for a whole week I was in such a condition that I seemed to have lost all sense of my obligations to God, and could not regain it. I did not remember His mercies, and my soul had become quite stupefied. It was busy all the time, though I do not know with what or how. I had no wicked thoughts, but I was so incapable of thinking good ones that I positively laughed at myself, and was amused to see how low a soul can sink when God is not continuously working in it. It realizes that in this state it is not without God; this is not like one of those great trials which, as I have said, I experience at times. But although the soul lays on wood and does all that it can by itself, it cannot kindle the fire of the love of God. He does it a great mercy merely by allowing the smoke to be seen, as a sign that the fire is not altogether dead. Then the Lord returns to kindle it, for though the soul is driving itself crazy with blowing on the fuel and rearranging it, it only seems to be stifling the flames more and more. I think that the best thing it can do is to accept with complete resignation its inability to do anything for itself, and to engage, as I have said, in other meritorious activities. It may be that the Lord is depriving it of the power to pray only so that it may direct its attention to these other matters and discover by experience how little it can do of itself.
It is true that while in conversation with the Lord to-day I have dared to complain to His Majesy. ‘How is it, O Lord, that You are not satisfied to keep me in this miserable life, which I endure for the love of You, resigned to live where obstacles of every sort prevent my enjoying You? Why do I have to eat, sleep, conduct business, and talk to everyone as well, and all this for the love of You also? You know very well, Lord, that this is a very great torture to me, yet even in the few moments that still remain for You, You hide from me. How is this consistent with Your compassion? How can Your love for me allow it? If it were possible for me to hide from You as You hide from me, such is Your love for me that I do not believe You would endure it. That is what I think and believe. But You are with me and see me always. O Lord, this must not be. Consider, I beg of You, what a wrong You are doing to one who loves You so much.’
These and other words came to my lips, while all the time I realized how merciful was my place in hell, considering my deserts. But sometimes I am so crazed with love that I do not know what I am saying. With such sense as I have I make these complaints, and the Lord bears with it all. Praised be so good a King! Should we be so bold in our approach to the kings of this world? It is not surprising that we dare not even speak to an earthly king, for it is only right that men should be afraid of him, and of the lords who are his representatives as well. As the world is at present, our lives would have to be a great deal longer if we were to learn all the world’s new customs and procedures and rules of correct behaviour, and yet have some time left for the service of God. When I see what goes on, I cross myself in dismay. The fact is that when I came to this house I did not know how I was going to live. One’s failure to treat people much better than they deserve is not taken lightly, but considered a serious affront; and if one has been careless, as I have said, one has to satisfy people that one’s intentions were good – and please God they believe it!
Really, I repeat, I did not know how I was going to live. My poor soul was quite worn out. It hears when it is told that it must devote all its thoughts to God and that, unless it keeps them fixed on Him, it will never escape from dangers of every sort. On the other hand, it sees that it must not fail to observe every point of worldly etiquette, for fear of giving offence to people who think these observances essential to their honour. All this simply exhausted me; my offers of apology were never-ending. For, try though I might to please, I could not help making mistakes; and these, as I have said, are not passed over in the world as unimportant. Is it true that no such explanations are necessary in religious houses? It might be thought reasonable that we should be excused from these observances. But people say that convents should be courts and schools of good breeding. For myself, I really cannot understand this. Possibly some holy person may have said that they should be courts for the instruction of those who wish to be courtiers of heaven, and that people have misunderstood his meaning. For if we take care, as we rightly should, always to please God and hate the world, I do not see how at the same time we can be equally careful to please those who live in the world in matters that are continually changing. If this etiquette could be learnt once and for all, it might be tolerable. But even the correct addressing of letters demands the establishment of a University chair; there ought to be lectures in the art – or whatever you call it. In one case one corner of the paper has to be left blank, and in another case another; and suddenly a man who was not even a ‘Magnificence’, has to be described as ‘Illustrious’.
I cannot think where this will stop. Though I am not yet fifty, I have seen so many changes in my lifetime that I do not know how to go on. What will it be like for those who are born to-day and who have long lives before them? I am really sorry for those spiritual people who for certain pious reasons are obliged to live in the world; they have a heavy cross to bear. If they could all agree to remain ignorant of this science, and insist on being considered so, they would be free from a great deal of trouble. But what nonsense I have started talking! From speaking of the greatness of God, I have descended to the pettinesses of the world. But as the Lord has graciously allowed me to renounce it, I will leave the subject. Let those who devote so much labour to these trifles settle them to their own satisfaction. Pray God that in the next life, which is unchanging, we may not have to pay for all this. Amen.