A Miracle That Kept on Giving
Seventeenth Sunday in
Ordinary Time
John 6:1-15
Jesus went across the Sea of Galilee. A large crowd followed him, because they saw the signs he was performing on the sick. Jesus went up on the mountain, and there he sat down with his disciples. The Jewish feast of Passover was near. When Jesus raised his eyes and saw that a large crowd was coming to him, he said to Philip, "Where can we buy enough food for them to eat?" He said this to test him, because he himself knew what he was going to do. Philip answered him, "Two hundred days´ wages worth of food would not be enough for each of them to have a little bit." One of his disciples, Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, said to him, "There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish; but what good are these for so many?" Jesus said, "Have the people recline." Now there was a great deal of grass in that place. So the men reclined, about five thousand in number. Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed them to those who were reclining, and also as much of the fish as they wanted. When they had had their fill, he said to his disciples, "Gather the fragments left over, so that nothing will be wasted." So they collected them, and filled twelve wicker baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves that had been more than they could eat. When the people saw the sign he had done, they said, "This is truly the Prophet, the one who is to come into the world." Since Jesus knew that they were going to come and carry him off to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain alone.
Jesus went across the Sea of Galilee. A large crowd followed him, because they saw the signs he was performing on the sick. Jesus went up on the mountain, and there he sat down with his disciples. The Jewish feast of Passover was near. When Jesus raised his eyes and saw that a large crowd was coming to him, he said to Philip, "Where can we buy enough food for them to eat?" He said this to test him, because he himself knew what he was going to do. Philip answered him, "Two hundred days´ wages worth of food would not be enough for each of them to have a little bit." One of his disciples, Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, said to him, "There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish; but what good are these for so many?" Jesus said, "Have the people recline." Now there was a great deal of grass in that place. So the men reclined, about five thousand in number. Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed them to those who were reclining, and also as much of the fish as they wanted. When they had had their fill, he said to his disciples, "Gather the fragments left over, so that nothing will be wasted." So they collected them, and filled twelve wicker baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves that had been more than they could eat. When the people saw the sign he had done, they said, "This is truly the Prophet, the one who is to come into the world." Since Jesus knew that they were going to come and carry him off to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain alone.
Introductory Prayer: Lord, I believe that You, the Holy Trinity,
dwell in my soul. Thank You for the joy of Your friendship and love. I hope in You; I hope that You will guide me and my loved ones home to heaven, where we
can delight in Your presence forever. I love You and long to be a better
instrument of Your love.
Petition: Lord, help me to achieve an unconditional
trust in you.
1. A Test to Get Us to
Grow in Trust: It was clear that
Jesus’ disciples did not have the means to help these people out of their
predicament -- neither in ready available cash nor in locating a nearby market
large enough to feed the overburdening crowd. Yet Scripture says, “He said this
to test him.” Let this passage remind us that God can allow our problems to
become so big and desperate as to show forth his power. God wants us to trust
in him and to purify our intentions along our journey of faith. How great our
Lord is in solving the unsolvable and making possible the impossible. He cures
the incurable, raises people from the dead, and, most importantly, converts the
erring sinner. “Nothing is impossible with God” (Luke 1:38). Do I easily give
up hope when I don’t see a human solution to a situation? Blessed is he who
believes that what the Lord promises will be fulfilled (Cf. Luke 1:46).
2. Our Lord Wants Us
to Play a Part in His Miracle: God has the power of creating something out of nothing, but he
asks for human collaboration, even if it is minimal. Here it is no different.
The apostles are utterly poor: they can bring to Our Lord only five loaves and
two fish from a boy they find in the crowd. Jesus asks us to contribute because
he wants to teach us to be generous, even when we think we have nothing to
give. Actually, it is when we give from our want that we most please Our Lord
(Cf. Luke 21:1-4). Poverty is never an excuse for a lack of generosity in
serving and working for Our Lord. This miracle proves to us that Our Lord can
never be outdone in generosity.
3. Don’t Miss the
Point: In this scene Our Lord
slowly prepared his apostles and disciples for his teaching on the Real
Presence in the Eucharist. He had to purify their hearts and prune out
attachment to the things of this world in order for them to accept the
difficult teaching about his self-giving love found in the Eucharist. Even so,
when he saw that the people were about to miss the point of his miracle, Our
Lord “withdrew again to the mountain alone” (John 6:15). Sometimes Our Lord
withdraws the comfort and consolation of his presence in our lives because we
wrongly interpret their meaning and purpose. Do I properly discern the spirit
in my heart when I pray? Am I happy only for things that gives me comfort, or
am I truly coming closer to Christ because I recognize who he is and return to
him the same authentic love he gives me and wants from me?
Conversation with
Christ: Thank You, Lord, for
this meditation and the lessons I learned from it. Keep me generous so I may
never lose my trust in You. When the situations of my life seem unsolvable,
help me to trust that in Your time, You will work Your wonders in my life,
bringing glory to Your name.
Resolution: I will make a visit to the Eucharist or a
spiritual communion each day this week, offering this sacrifice of time for the
conversion of the hearts of those who do not believe, do not adore, do not
trust, or do not love You, Lord, in the Eucharist.
Excerpts from the
DIARY of Saint Faustina Kowalska
77 My mind became dimmed in a
strange way; no truth seemed clear to me. When people spoke to me about God, my
heart was like a rock. I could not draw from it a single sentiment of love for
Him. When I tried, by an act of the will, to remain close to Him, I experienced
great torments, and it seemed to me that I was only provoking God to an even
greater anger. It was absolutely impossible for me to meditate as I had been
accustomed to do in the past. I felt in my soul a great void, and there was
nothing with which I could fill it. I began to suffer from a great hunger and
yearning for God, but I saw my utter powerlessness. I tried to read slowly,
sentence by sentence, and to meditate in this way, but this also was of no avail.
I understood nothing of what I had read.
The abyss of my misery was constantly before my eyes. Every time I entered the chapel for some spiritual exercise, I experienced even worse torments and temptations. More than once, all through Holy Mass, I had to struggle against blasphemous thoughts which were forcing themselves to my lips. I felt an aversion for the Holy Sacraments, and it seemed to me that I was not profiting from them in any way. It was only out of obedience to my confessor that I frequented them, and this blind obedience was for me the only path I could follow and my very last hope of survival. The priest explained to me that these were trials sent by God and that, in the situation I was in, not only was I not offending God, but I was most pleasing to Him. "This is a sign," he told me, "that God loves you very much and that He has great confidence in you, since He is sending you such trials." But these words brought me no comfort; it seemed to me that they did not apply to me at all.
One thing did surprise me: it often happened that, at the time when I was suffering greatly, these terrible torments would disappear suddenly just as I was approaching the confessional; but as soon as I had left the confessional, all these torments would again seize me with even greater ferocity. I would then fall on my face before the Blessed Sacrament repeating these words: "Even if You kill me, still will I trust in You!" [cf. Job 13:15] It seemed to me that I would die in these agonies. But the most terrible thought for me was the conviction that I had been rejected by God. Then other thoughts came to me: why strive to acquire virtues and do good works? why mortify and annihilate yourself? what good is it to take vows? to pray? to sacrifice and immolate yourself? why sacrifice myself all the time? what good is it - if I am already rejected by God? why all these efforts? And here, God alone knew what was going on in my heart.
The abyss of my misery was constantly before my eyes. Every time I entered the chapel for some spiritual exercise, I experienced even worse torments and temptations. More than once, all through Holy Mass, I had to struggle against blasphemous thoughts which were forcing themselves to my lips. I felt an aversion for the Holy Sacraments, and it seemed to me that I was not profiting from them in any way. It was only out of obedience to my confessor that I frequented them, and this blind obedience was for me the only path I could follow and my very last hope of survival. The priest explained to me that these were trials sent by God and that, in the situation I was in, not only was I not offending God, but I was most pleasing to Him. "This is a sign," he told me, "that God loves you very much and that He has great confidence in you, since He is sending you such trials." But these words brought me no comfort; it seemed to me that they did not apply to me at all.
One thing did surprise me: it often happened that, at the time when I was suffering greatly, these terrible torments would disappear suddenly just as I was approaching the confessional; but as soon as I had left the confessional, all these torments would again seize me with even greater ferocity. I would then fall on my face before the Blessed Sacrament repeating these words: "Even if You kill me, still will I trust in You!" [cf. Job 13:15] It seemed to me that I would die in these agonies. But the most terrible thought for me was the conviction that I had been rejected by God. Then other thoughts came to me: why strive to acquire virtues and do good works? why mortify and annihilate yourself? what good is it to take vows? to pray? to sacrifice and immolate yourself? why sacrifice myself all the time? what good is it - if I am already rejected by God? why all these efforts? And here, God alone knew what was going on in my heart.
96 +Trials sent by God to a soul
which is particularly loved by Him.
Temptations and darkness; Satan. The soul's love [for God] is still not such as God would have it. The soul suddenly loses the tangible perception of God's presence. Various defects and imperfections rise up within it, and it must fight them furiously. All her faults lift up their heads, but the soul's vigilance is great. The former awareness of the presence of God gives place to coldness and spiritual dryness; the soul has no taste for spiritual exercises; it cannot pray, either in the old way, or in the manner in which it had just begun to pray. It struggles this way and that, but can find no satisfaction. God has hidden himself from it, and it can find no consolation in creatures, nor can any of these creatures find a way of consoling it. The soul craves passionately for God, but sees its own misery; it begins to sense God's justice; it seems to it that it has lost all the gifts that God had given it; its mind is dimmed, and darkness fills it; unspeakable torment begins. The soul tries to explain its state to the confessor, but it is not understood and is assailed by an even greater unrest. Satan begins his work.
Temptations and darkness; Satan. The soul's love [for God] is still not such as God would have it. The soul suddenly loses the tangible perception of God's presence. Various defects and imperfections rise up within it, and it must fight them furiously. All her faults lift up their heads, but the soul's vigilance is great. The former awareness of the presence of God gives place to coldness and spiritual dryness; the soul has no taste for spiritual exercises; it cannot pray, either in the old way, or in the manner in which it had just begun to pray. It struggles this way and that, but can find no satisfaction. God has hidden himself from it, and it can find no consolation in creatures, nor can any of these creatures find a way of consoling it. The soul craves passionately for God, but sees its own misery; it begins to sense God's justice; it seems to it that it has lost all the gifts that God had given it; its mind is dimmed, and darkness fills it; unspeakable torment begins. The soul tries to explain its state to the confessor, but it is not understood and is assailed by an even greater unrest. Satan begins his work.
97 Faith staggers under the impact;
the struggle is fierce. The soul tries hard to cling to God by an act of will.
With God's permission, Satan goes even further: hope and love are put to the
test. These temptations are terrible. God supports the soul in secret, so to
speak. The soul is not aware of this, but otherwise it would be impossible to
stand firm; and God knows very well how much He can allow to befall a soul. The
soul is tempted to unbelief in respect to revealed truths and to insincerity
toward the confessor. Satan says to it, "Look, no one understands you; why
speak about all this?" Words that terrify it sound in its ears, and it
seems to the soul that it is uttering these against God. It sees what it does
not want to see. It hears what it does not want to hear. And, oh, it is a
terrible thing at times like these not to have an experienced confessor! The
soul carries the whole burden alone. However, one should make every effort to
find, if it is at all possible, a well-informed confessor, for the soul can
collapse under the burden and come to the very edge of the precipice. All these
trials are heavy and difficult. God does not send them to a soul which has not
already been admitted to a deeper intimacy with Him and which has not yet
tasted the divine delights. Besides, in this God has His own plans, which for
us are impenetrable. God often prepares a soul in this way for His future
designs and great works. He wants to try it as pure gold is tried. But this is
not yet the end of the testing; there is still the trial of trials, the
complete abandonment of the soul by God.
+ The Trial of Trials, Complete
Abandonment - Despair
98 When the soul comes out victorious from the preceding trials, even though it may stumble here and there, it fights on valiantly, humbly calling upon God, "Save me, I am perishing!" And it is still able to fight on.
At this point, however, the soul is engulfed in a horrible night. It sees within itself only sin. It feels terrible. It sees itself completely abandoned by God. It feels itself to be the object of His hatred. It is but one step away from despair. The soul does its best to defend itself; it tries to stir up its confidence; but prayer is an even greater torment for it, as this prayer seems to arouse God to an even greater anger. The soul finds itself poised on the summit of a lofty mountain on the very brink of a precipice.
The soul is drawn to God, but feels repulsed. All other sufferings and tortures in the world are as nothing compared with this sensation into which it has been plunged; namely, that of being rejected by God. No one can bring it any relief; it finds itself completely alone; there is no one to defend it. It raises its eyes to heaven, but is convinced that this is not for her-for her all is lost. It falls deeper and deeper from darkness to darkness, and it seems to it that it has lost forever the God it used to love so dearly. This thought is torture beyond all description. But the soul does not agree to it and tries to lift its gaze toward heaven, but in vain! And this makes the torture even more intense.
If God wishes to keep the soul in such darkness, no one will be able to give it light. It experiences rejection by God in a vivid and terrifying manner. From its heart burst forth painful moans, so painful that no priest will comprehend it, unless he himself has been through these trials. In the midst of this, the evil spirit adds to the soul's suffering, mocking it: "Will you persist in your faithfulness? This is your reward; you are in our power!" But Satan has only as much influence over the soul as God allows him, and God knows how much we can bear. "What have you gotten out of your mortifications," says Satan, "and out of your fidelity to the rule? What use are all these efforts? You have been rejected by God!" This word, rejected, becomes a fire which penetrates every nerve to the marrow of the bone. It pierces right through her entire being. The ordeal reaches its climax. The soul no longer looks for help anywhere. It shrinks into itself and loses sight of everything; it is as though it has accepted the torture of being abandoned. This is a moment for which I have no words. This is the agony of the soul.
98 When the soul comes out victorious from the preceding trials, even though it may stumble here and there, it fights on valiantly, humbly calling upon God, "Save me, I am perishing!" And it is still able to fight on.
At this point, however, the soul is engulfed in a horrible night. It sees within itself only sin. It feels terrible. It sees itself completely abandoned by God. It feels itself to be the object of His hatred. It is but one step away from despair. The soul does its best to defend itself; it tries to stir up its confidence; but prayer is an even greater torment for it, as this prayer seems to arouse God to an even greater anger. The soul finds itself poised on the summit of a lofty mountain on the very brink of a precipice.
The soul is drawn to God, but feels repulsed. All other sufferings and tortures in the world are as nothing compared with this sensation into which it has been plunged; namely, that of being rejected by God. No one can bring it any relief; it finds itself completely alone; there is no one to defend it. It raises its eyes to heaven, but is convinced that this is not for her-for her all is lost. It falls deeper and deeper from darkness to darkness, and it seems to it that it has lost forever the God it used to love so dearly. This thought is torture beyond all description. But the soul does not agree to it and tries to lift its gaze toward heaven, but in vain! And this makes the torture even more intense.
If God wishes to keep the soul in such darkness, no one will be able to give it light. It experiences rejection by God in a vivid and terrifying manner. From its heart burst forth painful moans, so painful that no priest will comprehend it, unless he himself has been through these trials. In the midst of this, the evil spirit adds to the soul's suffering, mocking it: "Will you persist in your faithfulness? This is your reward; you are in our power!" But Satan has only as much influence over the soul as God allows him, and God knows how much we can bear. "What have you gotten out of your mortifications," says Satan, "and out of your fidelity to the rule? What use are all these efforts? You have been rejected by God!" This word, rejected, becomes a fire which penetrates every nerve to the marrow of the bone. It pierces right through her entire being. The ordeal reaches its climax. The soul no longer looks for help anywhere. It shrinks into itself and loses sight of everything; it is as though it has accepted the torture of being abandoned. This is a moment for which I have no words. This is the agony of the soul.
105 However, in all these sufferings
and struggles, I was not omitting Holy Communion. When it seemed to me that I
should not communicate, I went, before Holy Communion, to the Directress and
told her that I could not approach the Sacrament, because it seemed to me that
I should not do so. But she would not permit me to omit Holy Communion, so I
went, and I understand now that it was only obedience that saved me.
The Directress herself told me later that my trials had passed quickly, "and this solely because you were obedient, Sister; and it was through the power of obedience that you struggled through this so bravely." It is true that it was the Lord himself who brought me out of this torment, but my fidelity to obedience did please Him.
The Directress herself told me later that my trials had passed quickly, "and this solely because you were obedient, Sister; and it was through the power of obedience that you struggled through this so bravely." It is true that it was the Lord himself who brought me out of this torment, but my fidelity to obedience did please Him.
109 After such sufferings the soul
finds itself in a state of great purity of spirit and very close to God. But I
should add that during these spiritual torments it is close to God, but it is
blind. The soul's vision is plunged into darkness, and though God is nearer
than ever to the soul which is suffering, the whole secret consists in the fact
that it knows nothing of this. The soul in fact declares that, not only has God
abandoned it, but it is the object of His hatred. With how great a malady are
they eyes of the soul afflicted! When struck by divine light, the soul affirms
that this light does not exist, although it is precisely because this divine
light is so bright that it is blinded. Yet despite all, I learned later that
God is closer to a soul at such moments than at others, because it would not be
able to endure these trials with the help of ordinary grace alone. God's
omnipotence and an extraordinary grace must be active here, for otherwise the
soul would succumb at the first blow.
112 +A few words about confession
and confessors. I shall speak only of what I have experienced and gone through
within my own soul. There are three things which hinder the soul from drawing
profit from confession in these exceptional moments.
The first thing: when the confessor has little knowledge of extraordinary ways and shows surprise if a soul discloses to him the great mysteries worked in it by God. Such surprise frightens a sensitive soul, and it notices that the confessor hesitates to give his opinion; and if it does notice this, it will not be set at peace, but will have even more doubts after confession than before, because it will sense that the confessor is trying to set it at peace while he himself is uncertain. Or else, as has happened to me, a confessor, unable to penetrate some of the soul's mysteries, refuses to hear the confession, showing a certain fear when the soul approaches the confessional.
How can a soul in this state obtain peace in the confessional when it has become so oversensitive to every word of the priest? In my opinion, at times of such special trials sent by God to a soul, the priest, if he does not understand the soul, should direct it to some other experienced and well-instructed confessor. Or else he himself should seek light in order to give the soul what it needs, instead of downrightly denying it confession. For in this way he is exposing the soul to a great danger; and more than one soul may well leave the road along which God wanted it to journey. This is a matter of great importance, for I have experienced it myself. I myself began to waver; despite special gifts from God, and even though God himself reassured me, I have nevertheless always wanted to have the Church's seal as well.
The second thing: the confessor does not allow the soul to express itself frankly, and shows impatience. The soul then falls silent and does not say everything [it has to say] and, by this, profits nothing. It profits even less when the confessor, without really knowing the soul, proceeds to put it to the test. Instead of helping the soul, he does it harm. The soul is aware that the confessor does not know it, because he did not allow it to lay itself open fully as regards both its graces and its misery. And so the test is ill-adapted. I have been submitted to some tests at which I have had to laugh.
I will express this better thus: The confessor is the doctor of the soul, but how can a doctor prescribe a suitable remedy if he does not know the nature of the sickness? Never will he be able to do so. For either the remedy will not produce the desired effect, or else it will be too strong and will aggravate the illness, and sometimes-God forbid-even bring about death. I am speaking from my own experience because, in certain instances, it was the Lord himself who directly sustained me.
The third thing: it also happens sometimes that the confessor makes light of little things. There is nothing little in the spiritual life. Sometimes a seemingly insignificant thing will disclose a matter of great consequence and will be for the confessor a beam of light which helps him to get to know the soul. Many spiritual undertones are concealed in little things.
A magnificent building will never rise if we reject the insignificant bricks. God demands great purity of certain souls, and so He gives them a deeper knowledge of their own misery. Illuminated by light from on high, the soul can better know what pleases God and what does not. Sin depends upon the degree of knowledge and light that exists within the soul. The same is true of imperfections. Although the soul knows that it is only sin in the strict sense of the term which pertains to the sacrament of penance, yet these petty things are of great importance to a soul which is tending to sanctity, and the confessor must not treat them lightly. The patience and kindness of the confessor open the way to the innermost secrets of the soul. The soul, unconsciously as it were, reveals its abysmal depth and feels stronger and more resistant; it fights with greater courage and tries to do things better because it knows it must give an account of them.
I will mention one more thing regarding the confessor. It is his duty to occasionally put to the test, to try, to exercise, to learn whether he is dealing with straw, with iron or with pure gold. Each of these three types of souls needs different kinds of training. The confessor must-and this is absolutely necessary-form a clear judgment of each soul in order to know how heavy a burden it can carry at certain times, in certain circumstances, or in particular situations. As for myself, it was only later on, after many [negative] experiences, that, when I saw that I was not understood, I no longer laid bare my soul or allowed my peace to be disturbed. But this happened only when all these graces had already been submitted to the judgement of a wise, well-instructed and experienced confessor. Now I know what to go by in certain cases.
The first thing: when the confessor has little knowledge of extraordinary ways and shows surprise if a soul discloses to him the great mysteries worked in it by God. Such surprise frightens a sensitive soul, and it notices that the confessor hesitates to give his opinion; and if it does notice this, it will not be set at peace, but will have even more doubts after confession than before, because it will sense that the confessor is trying to set it at peace while he himself is uncertain. Or else, as has happened to me, a confessor, unable to penetrate some of the soul's mysteries, refuses to hear the confession, showing a certain fear when the soul approaches the confessional.
How can a soul in this state obtain peace in the confessional when it has become so oversensitive to every word of the priest? In my opinion, at times of such special trials sent by God to a soul, the priest, if he does not understand the soul, should direct it to some other experienced and well-instructed confessor. Or else he himself should seek light in order to give the soul what it needs, instead of downrightly denying it confession. For in this way he is exposing the soul to a great danger; and more than one soul may well leave the road along which God wanted it to journey. This is a matter of great importance, for I have experienced it myself. I myself began to waver; despite special gifts from God, and even though God himself reassured me, I have nevertheless always wanted to have the Church's seal as well.
The second thing: the confessor does not allow the soul to express itself frankly, and shows impatience. The soul then falls silent and does not say everything [it has to say] and, by this, profits nothing. It profits even less when the confessor, without really knowing the soul, proceeds to put it to the test. Instead of helping the soul, he does it harm. The soul is aware that the confessor does not know it, because he did not allow it to lay itself open fully as regards both its graces and its misery. And so the test is ill-adapted. I have been submitted to some tests at which I have had to laugh.
I will express this better thus: The confessor is the doctor of the soul, but how can a doctor prescribe a suitable remedy if he does not know the nature of the sickness? Never will he be able to do so. For either the remedy will not produce the desired effect, or else it will be too strong and will aggravate the illness, and sometimes-God forbid-even bring about death. I am speaking from my own experience because, in certain instances, it was the Lord himself who directly sustained me.
The third thing: it also happens sometimes that the confessor makes light of little things. There is nothing little in the spiritual life. Sometimes a seemingly insignificant thing will disclose a matter of great consequence and will be for the confessor a beam of light which helps him to get to know the soul. Many spiritual undertones are concealed in little things.
A magnificent building will never rise if we reject the insignificant bricks. God demands great purity of certain souls, and so He gives them a deeper knowledge of their own misery. Illuminated by light from on high, the soul can better know what pleases God and what does not. Sin depends upon the degree of knowledge and light that exists within the soul. The same is true of imperfections. Although the soul knows that it is only sin in the strict sense of the term which pertains to the sacrament of penance, yet these petty things are of great importance to a soul which is tending to sanctity, and the confessor must not treat them lightly. The patience and kindness of the confessor open the way to the innermost secrets of the soul. The soul, unconsciously as it were, reveals its abysmal depth and feels stronger and more resistant; it fights with greater courage and tries to do things better because it knows it must give an account of them.
I will mention one more thing regarding the confessor. It is his duty to occasionally put to the test, to try, to exercise, to learn whether he is dealing with straw, with iron or with pure gold. Each of these three types of souls needs different kinds of training. The confessor must-and this is absolutely necessary-form a clear judgment of each soul in order to know how heavy a burden it can carry at certain times, in certain circumstances, or in particular situations. As for myself, it was only later on, after many [negative] experiences, that, when I saw that I was not understood, I no longer laid bare my soul or allowed my peace to be disturbed. But this happened only when all these graces had already been submitted to the judgement of a wise, well-instructed and experienced confessor. Now I know what to go by in certain cases.
116 My Jesus, You know what my soul
goes through at the recollection of these sufferings. I have often marvelled
that the angels and saints hold their peace at the sight of a soul suffering
like that. Yet they have special love for us at such moments. My soul has often
cried out after God, as a little child who cries as loudly as he can when his
mother covers her face and he cannot recognize her. O my Jesus, honor and glory
to You for these trials of love! Great and incomprehensible is your mercy. All
that You intended for my soul, O Lord, is steeped in Your mercy.
117 I will mention here that those
who live with such a person should not add external sufferings; for indeed,
when the soul's cup is full, the little drop we may add to it may be the one
drop too much, and the cup of bitterness will overflow. And who will answer for
such a soul? Let us beware of adding to the suffering of others, because that
is displeasing to the Lord. If the sisters or the superiors knew or even
suspected that a soul was suffering such trials, and they nevertheless added
still other sufferings, they would be sinning gravely, and God himself would
demand an account of them on behalf of such a soul. I am not speaking here of
instances which of their very nature are sinful, but of things which in other
circumstances would not be sinful. Let us be on our guard against having the
weight of such a soul on our conscience. This is a grave and common defect in
religious life; namely, that when one sees a suffering soul, one always wants
to add even more suffering. I do not say that everyone acts like this, but
there are some. We take the liberty of passing all sorts of judgments, and we
repeat them when we would do better to remain silent.
121 +There is a series of graces
which God pours into the soul after these trials by fire. The soul enjoys
intimate union with God. It has many visions, both corporeal and intellectual.
It hears many supernatural words, and sometimes distinct orders. But despite
these graces, it is not self-sufficient. In fact it is even less so as a result
of God's graces, because it is now open to many dangers and can easily fall
prey to illusions. It ought to ask God for a spiritual director; but not only
must it pray for one, it must also make every effort to find a leader who is an
expert in these things, just as a military leader must know the ways along which
he will lead [his followers] into battle. A soul that is united with God must
be prepared for great and hard-fought battles.
+After these purifications and tears, God abides in the soul in a special way, but the soul does not always cooperate with these graces. Not that the soul itself is not willing to work, but it encounters so many interior and exterior difficulties that it really takes a miracle to sustain the soul on these summits. In this, it absolutely needs a director. People have often sown doubt in my soul, and I myself have sometimes become frightened at the thought that I was, after all, an ignorant person and did not have knowledge of many things, above all, spiritual things. But when my doubts increased, I sought light from my confessor or my superiors. Yet I did not obtain what I desired.
+After these purifications and tears, God abides in the soul in a special way, but the soul does not always cooperate with these graces. Not that the soul itself is not willing to work, but it encounters so many interior and exterior difficulties that it really takes a miracle to sustain the soul on these summits. In this, it absolutely needs a director. People have often sown doubt in my soul, and I myself have sometimes become frightened at the thought that I was, after all, an ignorant person and did not have knowledge of many things, above all, spiritual things. But when my doubts increased, I sought light from my confessor or my superiors. Yet I did not obtain what I desired.
227 +In the midst of trials I will
try to see the loving hand of God. Nothing is as constant as suffering-it
always faithfully keeps the soul company. O Jesus, I will let no one surpass me
in loving You!
+O Jesus, hidden in the Blessed Sacrament,
+O Jesus, hidden in the Blessed Sacrament,
580 On a certain occasion, the Lord
said to me, I am more deeply wounded by the small imperfections of chosen
souls than by the sins of those living in the world. It made me very sad
that chosen souls make Jesus suffer, and Jesus told me, These little
imperfections are not all. I will reveal to you a secret of My Heart: what I
suffer from chosen souls. Ingratitude in return for so many graces is My
Heart's constant food, on the part of [such] a chosen soul. Their love is
lukewarm, and My Heart cannot bear it; these souls force Me to reject them.
Others distrust My goodness and have no desire to experience that sweet
intimacy in their own hearts, but go in search of Me, off in the distance, and
do not find Me. This distrust of My goodness hurts Me very much. If My death
has not convinced you of My love, what will? Often a soul wounds Me mortally,
and then no one can comfort Me. They use My graces to offend Me. There are
souls who despise My graces as well as all the proofs of My love. They do not
wish to hear My call, but proceed into the abyss of hell. The loss of these
souls plunges Me into deadly sorrow. God though I am, I cannot help such a soul
because it scorns Me; having a free will, it can spurn Me or love Me. You, who
are the dispenser of My mercy, tell all the world about My goodness, and thus
you will comfort My Heart.
581 I will tell you most when you
converse with Me in the depths of your heart. Here, no one can disturb My
actions. Here, I rest as in a garden enclosed.
609 I said to Him, "I know that
You are my Lord and Creator even though You are so tiny." Jesus stretched
His little arms out to me and looked at me with a smile. My spirit was filled
with incomparable joy. Then suddenly Jesus disappeared, and it was time for
Holy Communion. I went with the other sisters to the Holy Table, my soul deeply
moved. After Holy Communion, I heard these words in my soul: I am in your
heart, I whom you had in your arms. I then pleaded with Jesus for a certain
soul [Father Sopocko], asking the Lord to grant him the grace to fight, and to
take this trial from him. As you ask, so shall it be, but his merit will not
be lessened. Joy reigned in my soul that God is so good and merciful; God
grants everything that we ask of Him with trust.
831 O my Jesus, my soul was yearning
for the days of trial, but do not leave me alone in the darkness of my soul.
Rather, do You hold me firmly, close to Yourself. Set a guard over my lips, so
that the fragrance of my sufferings may be known and pleasing to You alone.
848 While I was saying the chaplet,
I heard a voice which said, Oh, what great graces I will grant to souls who
say this chaplet; the very depths of My tender mercy are stirred for the sake
of those who say the chaplet. Write down these words, My daughter. Speak to the
world about My mercy; let all mankind recognize My unfathomable mercy. It is a
sign for the end times; after it will come the day of justice. While there is
still time, let them have recourse to the fount of My mercy; let them profit
from the Blood and Water which gushed forth for them.
O human souls, where are you going to hide on the day of God's anger? Take refuge now in the fount of God's mercy. O what a great multitude of souls I see! They worshiped the Divine Mercy and will be singing the hymn of praise for all eternity.
O human souls, where are you going to hide on the day of God's anger? Take refuge now in the fount of God's mercy. O what a great multitude of souls I see! They worshiped the Divine Mercy and will be singing the hymn of praise for all eternity.
915 + O Mary, today a terrible sword
has pierced Your holy soul. Except for God, no one knows of Your suffering.
Your soul does not break; it is brave, because it is with Jesus. Sweet Mother,
unite my soul to Jesus, because it is only then that I will be able to endure
all trials and tribulations, and only in union with Jesus will my little
sacrifices be pleasing to God. Sweetest Mother, continue to teach me about the
interior life. May the sword of suffering never break me. O pure Virgin, pour
courage into my heart and guard it.
940 I myself suffered a great deal
and was much tried in this respect. Therefore, I am writing only about what I
myself have experienced. It was only after many novenas, prayers and penances
that God sent me a priest who understood my soul. Oh, there would be many more
saintly souls if there were more experienced and saintly confessors. Many a
soul, earnestly striving for sanctity, cannot manage by itself during times of
trial and abandons the road to perfection.
(Diary of Sister Faustina Kowalska Notebook-I-77, 96-98 105, 109, 112,
116-117)
(Diary of Sister Faustina Kowalska Notebook-I-121, 227)
(Diary of Sister Faustina Kowalska Notebook-II-580-581, 609, 831, 848,
915, 940 )
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