The Good Samaritan
Sunday of the
Fifteenth Week of Ordinary Time
Father Shawn Aaron, LC
Luke 10: 25-37
There was
a scholar of the law who stood up to test Jesus and said, “Teacher, what must I
do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “What is written in the law?
How do you read it?” He said in reply, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with
all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your
mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” He replied to him, “You have answered
correctly; do this and you will live.” But because he wished to justify
himself, he said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man fell
victim to robbers as he went down from Jerusalem to Jericho. They stripped and
beat him and went off leaving him half-dead.
A priest happened to be going down that road, but when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. Likewise a Levite came to the place, and when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. But a Samaritan traveler who came upon him was moved with compassion at the sight. He approached the victim, poured oil and wine over his wounds and bandaged them. Then he lifted him up on his own animal, took him to an inn, and cared for him. The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper with the instruction, ‘Take care of him. If you spend more than what I have given you, I shall repay you on my way back.´ Which of these three, in your opinion, was neighbor to the robbers´ victim?” He answered, “The one who treated him with mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”
Introductory Prayer: Oh God, You are love itself. I long to be filled with the faith to see Your love and to experience it more fully. Help me to overcome my own lack of love.
Petition: Make my heart charitable like yours.
1. “They stripped and beat him and went off, leaving him half dead”
Charity is the subject of Jesus’ parable about the Good Samaritan. He makes the parable very graphic to drive this point home. The pathetic sight of a victim of violence is an appeal to conscience to show compassion and mercy. So many people around us need our love. Sometimes the need is not urgent, but rather is a case of long-term commitment. Pope John Paul II has said many times, “Man cannot live without love”. Wherever authentic love is shown, God is present. We should ask the Lord to help us to allow more people to experience his presence through our charity.
2. The priest and the Levite pass him by
We are shocked at the apparent lack of compassion shown by these men. But should it be so surprising? The road to Jericho was dangerous—stopping to help on the side of that notorious road would be to make oneself vulnerable, to risk undergoing a similar fate. At times, charity can make us vulnerable, and we do not necessarily like that. Sometimes fear, rather than hardness of heart, is the cause of our lack of charity. Our help may be rejected, or go unthanked, we may not know exactly the right thing to do… This is where the Good Samaritan has to inspire us. Let’s try to put our fears and second thoughts aside so that we can be ambassadors of the love of God.
3. He poured oil and wine over his wounds
Christ is our Good Samaritan. The Church Fathers have seen in the oil and wine images of the Sacraments, the wonderful means of Christ’s mercy that bring us grace and heal our spiritual wounds. Every time we receive the Eucharist or go to confession, our Lord is healing our wounds, especially the self-inflicted ones of sin. Like the Good Samaritan, he will spare no expense to give us the healing that we need. Our efforts to correspond to the Lord’s love and kindness will bear much fruit when we heed his word at the end of this parable: “Go and do likewise.”
Conversation with Christ: Lord, like the Good Samaritan, You have come to my rescue. I thank You for loving me so much that You shouldered the wood of the cross to bring me to salvation. I will never forget how much You have done for me.
Resolution: I will perform a hidden act of charity for someone that I have a hard time getting along with.
A priest happened to be going down that road, but when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. Likewise a Levite came to the place, and when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. But a Samaritan traveler who came upon him was moved with compassion at the sight. He approached the victim, poured oil and wine over his wounds and bandaged them. Then he lifted him up on his own animal, took him to an inn, and cared for him. The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper with the instruction, ‘Take care of him. If you spend more than what I have given you, I shall repay you on my way back.´ Which of these three, in your opinion, was neighbor to the robbers´ victim?” He answered, “The one who treated him with mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”
Introductory Prayer: Oh God, You are love itself. I long to be filled with the faith to see Your love and to experience it more fully. Help me to overcome my own lack of love.
Petition: Make my heart charitable like yours.
1. “They stripped and beat him and went off, leaving him half dead”
Charity is the subject of Jesus’ parable about the Good Samaritan. He makes the parable very graphic to drive this point home. The pathetic sight of a victim of violence is an appeal to conscience to show compassion and mercy. So many people around us need our love. Sometimes the need is not urgent, but rather is a case of long-term commitment. Pope John Paul II has said many times, “Man cannot live without love”. Wherever authentic love is shown, God is present. We should ask the Lord to help us to allow more people to experience his presence through our charity.
2. The priest and the Levite pass him by
We are shocked at the apparent lack of compassion shown by these men. But should it be so surprising? The road to Jericho was dangerous—stopping to help on the side of that notorious road would be to make oneself vulnerable, to risk undergoing a similar fate. At times, charity can make us vulnerable, and we do not necessarily like that. Sometimes fear, rather than hardness of heart, is the cause of our lack of charity. Our help may be rejected, or go unthanked, we may not know exactly the right thing to do… This is where the Good Samaritan has to inspire us. Let’s try to put our fears and second thoughts aside so that we can be ambassadors of the love of God.
3. He poured oil and wine over his wounds
Christ is our Good Samaritan. The Church Fathers have seen in the oil and wine images of the Sacraments, the wonderful means of Christ’s mercy that bring us grace and heal our spiritual wounds. Every time we receive the Eucharist or go to confession, our Lord is healing our wounds, especially the self-inflicted ones of sin. Like the Good Samaritan, he will spare no expense to give us the healing that we need. Our efforts to correspond to the Lord’s love and kindness will bear much fruit when we heed his word at the end of this parable: “Go and do likewise.”
Conversation with Christ: Lord, like the Good Samaritan, You have come to my rescue. I thank You for loving me so much that You shouldered the wood of the cross to bring me to salvation. I will never forget how much You have done for me.
Resolution: I will perform a hidden act of charity for someone that I have a hard time getting along with.
Excerpts from the DIARY of Saint Faustina Kowalska
57
O my Jesus, You are the life of my life. You know only too well that I long for
nothing but the glory of Your Name and that souls come to know Your goodness.
Why do souls avoid You, Jesus?-I don't understand that. Oh, if I could only cut
my heart into tiny pieces and in this way offer to You, O Jesus, each piece as
a heart whole and entire, to make up in part for the hearts that do not love
You! I love You, Jesus, with every drop of my blood, and I would gladly shed my
blood for You to give You a proof of the sincerity of my love. O God, the more
I know You the less I can comprehend You, but this
"non-comprehension" lets me realize how great You are! And it is this
impossibility of comprehending You which enflames my heart anew for You, O
Lord. From the moment when You let me fix the eyes of my soul on You, O Jesus,
I have been at peace and desired nothing else. I found my destiny at the moment
when my soul lost itself in You, the only object of my love. In comparison with
you, everything is nothing. Sufferings, adversities, humiliations, failures and
suspicions that have come my way are splinters that keep alive the fire of my
love for You, O Jesus.
My desires are mad and unattainable. I wish to conceal from You that I suffer. I want never to be rewarded for my efforts and my good actions. You yourself, Jesus, are my only reward; You are enough, O Treasure of my heart! I want to share compassionately in the sufferings of my neighbors and to conceal my own sufferings, not only from them, but also from You, Jesus.
Suffering is a great grace; through suffering the soul becomes like the Savior; in suffering love becomes crystallized; the greater the suffering, the purer the love.
My desires are mad and unattainable. I wish to conceal from You that I suffer. I want never to be rewarded for my efforts and my good actions. You yourself, Jesus, are my only reward; You are enough, O Treasure of my heart! I want to share compassionately in the sufferings of my neighbors and to conceal my own sufferings, not only from them, but also from You, Jesus.
Suffering is a great grace; through suffering the soul becomes like the Savior; in suffering love becomes crystallized; the greater the suffering, the purer the love.
58 +One night, a sister who had died two months previously came to me. She was a sister of the first choir. I saw her in a terrible condition, all in flames with her face painfully distorted. This lasted only a short time, and then she disappeared. A shudder went through my soul because I did not know whether she was suffering in purgatory or in hell. Nevertheless I redoubled my prayers for her. The next night she came again, but I saw her in an even more horrible state, in the midst of flames which were even more intense, and despair was written all over her face. I was astonished to see her in a worse condition after the prayers I had offered for her, and I asked, "Haven't my prayers helped you?" She answered that my prayers had not helped her and that nothing would help her. I said to her, "And the prayers which been any help to you?" She said no, that these prayers had helped some other souls. I replied, "If my prayers are not helping you, Sister, please stop coming to me." She disappeared at once. Despite this, I kept on praying.
After some time she came back again to me during the night, but already her appearance had changed. There were no longer any flames, as there had been before, and her face was radiant, her eyes beaming with joy. She told me that I had a true love for my neighbor and that many other souls had profited from my prayers. She urged me not to cease praying for the souls in purgatory, and she added that she herself would not remain there much longer. How astounding are the decrees of God!
Darkness and Temptations
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.
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.
93 +A Short Version of the Catechism of the Vows[39]
Q. What is a vow?
A. A vow is a voluntary promise made to God, to carry out a more perfect act.
Q. Is a vow binding in a matter which is the object of a commandment?
A. Yes. The carrying out of an act which is the object of a commandment has a double value and merit; and the neglect of such an act is a double transgression and evil, because by breaking such a vow we add to the sin against the commandment, the sin of sacrilege.
Q. Why do religious vows have such value?
A. Because they are the foundation of the religious life approved by the Church, in which the members bound together in a religious community undertake to strive always for perfection by means of the three religious vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, observed according to the rules.
Q. What is the meaning of the words, "strive for perfection?"
A. To strive for perfection means that the religious life does not in itself demand that perfection be already attained, but obliges, under the pain of sin, that we work daily to attain it. Therefore, a religious who does not want to become perfect neglects his principal duty of state.
Q. What are "solemn" religious vows?
A. " Solemn" religious vows are so absolute that, in extraordinary cases, only the Holy Father can dispense from them.
Q. What are simple religious vows?
A. These are vows which are less absolute - the Holy See dispenses from perpetual and annual vows.
Q. What is the difference between a vow and a virtue?
A. A vow pertains only to that which is commanded under pain of sin; the virtue goes beyond this and helps in the carrying out of the vow; on the other hand, by breaking the vow we fail in the virtue and do it damage.
Q. To what do the religious vows oblige us?
A. The religious vows oblige us to strive to acquire the virtues and to submit ourselves completely to our Superiors and to the Rules which are in force; thus the religious gives his own person to the Community, renouncing every right over himself and his actions, which he sacrifices to the service of God.
The Vow of Poverty
The vow of poverty is the voluntary renunciation of the right over property or to the use of such property with the purpose of pleasing God.
Q. What objects does the vow of poverty concern?
A. All those goods and those objects which appertain to the Community. We have no longer any right over anything that has been given to us, once it has been accepted, whether an article or money. All these donations and presents, which may have been given us out of gratitude or in any other way, belong by right to the Community. We cannot make use, without violating the vow, of any wages we may receive for work or even any annuity.
Q. When do we break or violate the vow in a matter which entails the seventh commandment?
A. We break or violate it when, without permission, we take for ourselves anything that belongs to the house; when, without permission, we retain something in order to appropriate it; and when, without authorization, we sell or exchange something that belongs to the Community. When we make use of an object for some other purpose than that intended by the Superior. When we give to, or accept from another, anything whatsoever without permission. When by negligence we destroy or damage something. When, in going from one house to another, we take something with us without permission. In a situation where the vow is broken, the religious is bound to restitution to the Community.
The Virtue of Poverty
This is an evangelical virtue which impels the heart to detach itself from temporal things; the religious, in virtue of his profession, is strictly obliged to it.
Q. When do we sin against the virtue of poverty? When we desire something, contrary to this virtue. When we become attached to something, and when we make use of superfluous things. How many degrees of poverty are there and what are they?
A. There are, in practice, four degrees of poverty for one who is a professed religious: to dispose of nothing without the consent of the Superiors (the strict matter of the vow); to avoid superfluities and be content with necessities (this pertains to the virtue); to readily content oneself with things of inferior quality in what concerns one's cell, clothing, nourishment, etc., and to experience this contentment interiorly; to rejoice in extreme poverty.
The Vow of Chastity
Q. To what does this vow oblige us?
A. To renounce marriage and to avoid everything that is forbidden by the sixth and ninth commandments.
Q. Is a fault against the virtue a violation of the vow?
A. Every fault against the virtue is at the same time a violation of the vow, because here there is no difference, as in the case of poverty and obedience, between the vow and the virtue.
Q. Is every bad thought a sin?
A. No, every bad thought is not a sin; it becomes so only when the acquiescence of the will and consent are joined to the consideration of the mind.
Q. Is there anything, over and above sins against chastity, which is detrimental to the virtue?
A. Lack of custody of the senses, of the imagination, of the feelings; familiarity and sentimental friendships are detrimental to the virtue.
Q. What are the means by which this virtue may be preserved?
A. To conquer interior temptations with the thought of the presence of God, and moreover to fight without fear. And for exterior temptations, to avoid occasions. There are, in all, seven principal means: to guard the senses, to avoid occasions, to avoid idleness, to remove temptations promptly, to remove oneself from all - and especially particular friendships, the spirit of mortification, and to reveal all these temptations to one's confessor.
Besides this, there are also five means of preserving this virtue: humility, the spirit of prayer, modesty of the eyes, fidelity to the rule, a sincere devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary.
The Vow of Obedience
The vow of obedience is superior to the first two. It is, to tell the truth, a holocaust, and it is more necessary because it forms and animates the monastic body.
Q. To what does the vow of obedience oblige us?
A. By the vow of obedience, the religious promises to God to be obedient to his legitimate superiors in everything that they will ordain in virtue of the rule. The vow of obedience makes the religious dependent on his superior in virtue of these rules for his whole life and in all his affairs. A religious commits a grave sin against the vow every time he disobeys an order given in virtue of obedience and of these rules.
The Virtue of Obedience
The virtue of obedience goes further than the vow; it embraces the rules, the regulations and even the counsels of the superiors.
Q. Is the virtue of obedience indispensable for a religious?
A. The virtue of obedience is so indispensable to a religious that, even if he were to perform good actions contrary to obedience, these would be evil and without merit.
Q. Can we sin gravely against the virtue of obedience?
A. We sin gravely when we scorn the authority or the order of the superior, or when spiritual or temporal harm to the community results from our disobedience.
Q. What faults endanger the vow?
A. To be prejudiced against the superior, or to harbor an antipathy for him - murmuring and criticism, tardiness and negligence.
The Degrees of Obedience
Prompt and complete fulfillment - the obedience of the will, when the will persuades the intellect to submit to the advice of the superior. To facilitate obedience, Saint Ignatius suggests, moreover, three means: always to see God in our superior, whoever he might be; to justify in itself the order or advice of the superior; to accept each order as an order from God, without examining it or reflecting on it. General means: humility. Nothing is difficult for the humble.
Q. What is a vow?
A. A vow is a voluntary promise made to God, to carry out a more perfect act.
Q. Is a vow binding in a matter which is the object of a commandment?
A. Yes. The carrying out of an act which is the object of a commandment has a double value and merit; and the neglect of such an act is a double transgression and evil, because by breaking such a vow we add to the sin against the commandment, the sin of sacrilege.
Q. Why do religious vows have such value?
A. Because they are the foundation of the religious life approved by the Church, in which the members bound together in a religious community undertake to strive always for perfection by means of the three religious vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, observed according to the rules.
Q. What is the meaning of the words, "strive for perfection?"
A. To strive for perfection means that the religious life does not in itself demand that perfection be already attained, but obliges, under the pain of sin, that we work daily to attain it. Therefore, a religious who does not want to become perfect neglects his principal duty of state.
Q. What are "solemn" religious vows?
A. " Solemn" religious vows are so absolute that, in extraordinary cases, only the Holy Father can dispense from them.
Q. What are simple religious vows?
A. These are vows which are less absolute - the Holy See dispenses from perpetual and annual vows.
Q. What is the difference between a vow and a virtue?
A. A vow pertains only to that which is commanded under pain of sin; the virtue goes beyond this and helps in the carrying out of the vow; on the other hand, by breaking the vow we fail in the virtue and do it damage.
Q. To what do the religious vows oblige us?
A. The religious vows oblige us to strive to acquire the virtues and to submit ourselves completely to our Superiors and to the Rules which are in force; thus the religious gives his own person to the Community, renouncing every right over himself and his actions, which he sacrifices to the service of God.
The Vow of Poverty
The vow of poverty is the voluntary renunciation of the right over property or to the use of such property with the purpose of pleasing God.
Q. What objects does the vow of poverty concern?
A. All those goods and those objects which appertain to the Community. We have no longer any right over anything that has been given to us, once it has been accepted, whether an article or money. All these donations and presents, which may have been given us out of gratitude or in any other way, belong by right to the Community. We cannot make use, without violating the vow, of any wages we may receive for work or even any annuity.
Q. When do we break or violate the vow in a matter which entails the seventh commandment?
A. We break or violate it when, without permission, we take for ourselves anything that belongs to the house; when, without permission, we retain something in order to appropriate it; and when, without authorization, we sell or exchange something that belongs to the Community. When we make use of an object for some other purpose than that intended by the Superior. When we give to, or accept from another, anything whatsoever without permission. When by negligence we destroy or damage something. When, in going from one house to another, we take something with us without permission. In a situation where the vow is broken, the religious is bound to restitution to the Community.
The Virtue of Poverty
This is an evangelical virtue which impels the heart to detach itself from temporal things; the religious, in virtue of his profession, is strictly obliged to it.
Q. When do we sin against the virtue of poverty? When we desire something, contrary to this virtue. When we become attached to something, and when we make use of superfluous things. How many degrees of poverty are there and what are they?
A. There are, in practice, four degrees of poverty for one who is a professed religious: to dispose of nothing without the consent of the Superiors (the strict matter of the vow); to avoid superfluities and be content with necessities (this pertains to the virtue); to readily content oneself with things of inferior quality in what concerns one's cell, clothing, nourishment, etc., and to experience this contentment interiorly; to rejoice in extreme poverty.
The Vow of Chastity
Q. To what does this vow oblige us?
A. To renounce marriage and to avoid everything that is forbidden by the sixth and ninth commandments.
Q. Is a fault against the virtue a violation of the vow?
A. Every fault against the virtue is at the same time a violation of the vow, because here there is no difference, as in the case of poverty and obedience, between the vow and the virtue.
Q. Is every bad thought a sin?
A. No, every bad thought is not a sin; it becomes so only when the acquiescence of the will and consent are joined to the consideration of the mind.
Q. Is there anything, over and above sins against chastity, which is detrimental to the virtue?
A. Lack of custody of the senses, of the imagination, of the feelings; familiarity and sentimental friendships are detrimental to the virtue.
Q. What are the means by which this virtue may be preserved?
A. To conquer interior temptations with the thought of the presence of God, and moreover to fight without fear. And for exterior temptations, to avoid occasions. There are, in all, seven principal means: to guard the senses, to avoid occasions, to avoid idleness, to remove temptations promptly, to remove oneself from all - and especially particular friendships, the spirit of mortification, and to reveal all these temptations to one's confessor.
Besides this, there are also five means of preserving this virtue: humility, the spirit of prayer, modesty of the eyes, fidelity to the rule, a sincere devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary.
The Vow of Obedience
The vow of obedience is superior to the first two. It is, to tell the truth, a holocaust, and it is more necessary because it forms and animates the monastic body.
Q. To what does the vow of obedience oblige us?
A. By the vow of obedience, the religious promises to God to be obedient to his legitimate superiors in everything that they will ordain in virtue of the rule. The vow of obedience makes the religious dependent on his superior in virtue of these rules for his whole life and in all his affairs. A religious commits a grave sin against the vow every time he disobeys an order given in virtue of obedience and of these rules.
The Virtue of Obedience
The virtue of obedience goes further than the vow; it embraces the rules, the regulations and even the counsels of the superiors.
Q. Is the virtue of obedience indispensable for a religious?
A. The virtue of obedience is so indispensable to a religious that, even if he were to perform good actions contrary to obedience, these would be evil and without merit.
Q. Can we sin gravely against the virtue of obedience?
A. We sin gravely when we scorn the authority or the order of the superior, or when spiritual or temporal harm to the community results from our disobedience.
Q. What faults endanger the vow?
A. To be prejudiced against the superior, or to harbor an antipathy for him - murmuring and criticism, tardiness and negligence.
The Degrees of Obedience
Prompt and complete fulfillment - the obedience of the will, when the will persuades the intellect to submit to the advice of the superior. To facilitate obedience, Saint Ignatius suggests, moreover, three means: always to see God in our superior, whoever he might be; to justify in itself the order or advice of the superior; to accept each order as an order from God, without examining it or reflecting on it. General means: humility. Nothing is difficult for the humble.
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.
101 Jesus,
You alone know how the soul, engulfed in darkness, moans in the midst of these
torments and, despite all this, thirsts for God as burning lips thirst for
water. It dies and withers; it dies a death without death; that is to say, it
cannot die. All its efforts come to nothing; it is under a powerful hand. Now
the soul comes under the power of the Just One. All exterior temptations cease;
all that surrounds it becomes silent, like a dying person who loses contact with
everything around it: the person's entire soul is in the hand of the Just God,
the Thrice-Holy God,-rejected for all eternity! This is the culminating moment,
and God alone can test a soul in this way, because He alone knows what the soul
can endure.
When the soul has been saturated through and through by this infernal fire, it is, as it were, cast headlong into great despair. My soul experienced this moment when I was all alone in my cell. When my soul began to sink into this despair, I felt that the end was near. But I seized my little crucifix and clutched it tightly in my hand. And now I felt my body separate itself from my soul; and though I wanted to go to my Superiors, I no longer had the physical strength. I uttered my last words: "I trust in Your Mercy!"-and it seemed to me that I provoked God to an even greater anger. And now I was drowned in despair, and all that was left me was a moan of unadulterated pain which, from time to time, tore itself from my soul. The soul is in agony-and it seemed to me that I would remain in this state, because by my own strength I could not emerge from it. Every recollection of God opened up an unspeakable ocean of suffering, and yet despite this there is something within the soul which is drawn to Him, though it seems to her for this only-that she suffer more. The memory of the love with which God formerly surrounded it is still another kind of suffering. His gaze pierces it, and everything within the soul is burned by this gaze.
When the soul has been saturated through and through by this infernal fire, it is, as it were, cast headlong into great despair. My soul experienced this moment when I was all alone in my cell. When my soul began to sink into this despair, I felt that the end was near. But I seized my little crucifix and clutched it tightly in my hand. And now I felt my body separate itself from my soul; and though I wanted to go to my Superiors, I no longer had the physical strength. I uttered my last words: "I trust in Your Mercy!"-and it seemed to me that I provoked God to an even greater anger. And now I was drowned in despair, and all that was left me was a moan of unadulterated pain which, from time to time, tore itself from my soul. The soul is in agony-and it seemed to me that I would remain in this state, because by my own strength I could not emerge from it. Every recollection of God opened up an unspeakable ocean of suffering, and yet despite this there is something within the soul which is drawn to Him, though it seems to her for this only-that she suffer more. The memory of the love with which God formerly surrounded it is still another kind of suffering. His gaze pierces it, and everything within the soul is burned by this gaze.
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.
118 The tongue is a
small member, but it does big things. A religious who does not keep silence
will never attain holiness; that is, she will never become a saint. Let her not
delude herself-unless it is the Spirit of God who is speaking through her, for
then she must not keep silent. But, in order to hear the voice of God, one has
to have silence in one's soul and to keep silence; not a gloomy silence, but an
interior silence; that is to say, recollection in God. One can speak a great
deal without breaking silence and, on the contrary, one can speak little and be
constantly breaking silence. Oh, what irreparable damage is done by the breach
of silence! We cause a lot of harm to our neighbor, but even more to our own
selves.
In my opinion, and
according to my experience, the rule concerning silence should stand in the
very first place. God does not give himself to a chattering soul which, like a
drone in a beehive, buzzes around but gathers no honey. A talkative soul is
empty inside. It lacks both the essential virtues and intimacy with God. A
deeper interior life, one of gentle peace and of that silence where the Lord
dwells, is quite out of the question. A soul that has never tasted the
sweetness of inner silence is a restless spirit which disturbs the silence of
others. I have seen many souls in the depths of hell for not having kept their
silence; they told me so themselves when I asked them what was the cause of
their undoing. These were souls of religious. My God, what an agony it is to
think that not only might they have been in heaven, but they might even have
become saints! O Jesus, have mercy!
140 Pure love is capable of great
deeds, and it is not broken by difficulty or adversity. As it remains strong in
the midst of great difficulties, so too it perseveres in the toilsome and drab
life of each day. It knows that only one thing is needed to please God: to do
even the smallest things out of great love-love, and always love.
Pure love never errs. Its light is strangely plentiful. It will not do anything that might displease God. It is ingenious at doing what is more pleasing to God, and no one will equal it. It is happy when it can empty itself and burn like a pure offering. The more it gives of itself, the happier it is. But also, no one can sense dangers from afar as can love; it knows how to unmask and also knows with whom it has to deal.
Pure love never errs. Its light is strangely plentiful. It will not do anything that might displease God. It is ingenious at doing what is more pleasing to God, and no one will equal it. It is happy when it can empty itself and burn like a pure offering. The more it gives of itself, the happier it is. But also, no one can sense dangers from afar as can love; it knows how to unmask and also knows with whom it has to deal.
147 I recall that
I have received most light during adoration which I made lying prostrate before
the Blessed Sacrament for half an hour every day throughout Lent. During that
time I came to know myself and God more profoundly. And yet, even though I had
the superiors' permission to do so, I encountered many obstacles to praying in
such a way. Let the soul be aware that, in order to pray and persevere in
prayer, one must arm oneself with patience and cope bravely with exterior and
interior difficulties. The interior difficulties are discouragement, dryness,
heaviness of spirit and temptations. The exterior difficulties are human respect
and time; one must observe the time set apart for prayer. This has been my
personal experience because, when I did not pray at the time assigned for
prayer, later on I could not do it because of my duties; or if I did manage to
do so, this was only with great difficulty, because my thoughts kept wandering
off to my duties. I also experienced this difficulty: when a soul has prayed
well and left prayer in a state of profound interior recollection, others
resist its recollection; and so, the soul must be patient to persevere in
prayer. It often happened to me that when my soul was more deeply immersed in
God, and I had derived greater fruit from prayer, and God's presence
accompanied me during the day, and at work there was more recollection and
greater precision and effort at my duty, this was precisely when I received the
most rebukes for being negligent in my duty and indifferent to everything;
because less recollected souls want others to be like them, for they are a
constant [source of] remorse to them.
163 JMJ The Year 1937
General Exercises
+O Most Holy Trinity!
As many times as I breathe, as many times as my heart beats, as many times as
my blood pulsates through my body, so many thousand times do I want to glorify
Your mercy.
+I want to be completely
transformed into Your mercy and to be Your living reflection, O Lord. May the
greatest of all divine attributes, that of Your unfathomable mercy, pass
through my heart and soul to my neighbor.
Help me, O Lord, that
my eyes may be merciful, so that I may never suspect or judge from appearances,
but look for what is beautiful in my neighbors' souls and come to their rescue.
Help me, that my ears
may be merciful, so that I may give heed to my neighbors' needs and not be
indifferent to their pains and moaning. Help me, O Lord, that my tongue may be
merciful, so that I should never speak negatively of my neighbor, but have a
word of comfort and forgiveness for all.
Help me, O Lord, that
my hands may be merciful and filled with good deeds, so that I may do only good
to my neighbors and take upon myself the more difficult and toilsome tasks.
Help me, that my feet
may be merciful, so that I may hurry to assist my neighbor, overcoming my own
fatigue and weariness. My true rest is in the service of my neighbor.
Help me, O Lord, that
my heart may be merciful so that I myself may feel all the sufferings of my
neighbor. I will refuse my heart to no one. I will be sincere even with those
who, I know, will abuse my kindness. And I will lock myself up in the most merciful
Heart of Jesus. I will bear my own suffering in silence. May Your mercy, O
Lord, rest upon me.
+You yourself command
me to exercise the three degrees of mercy. The first: the act of mercy, of
whatever kind. The second: the word of mercy-if I cannot carry out a work of
mercy, I will assist by my words. The third: prayer-if I cannot show mercy by
deeds or words, I can always do so by prayer. My prayer reaches out even there
where I cannot reach out physically.
O my Jesus, transform
me into Yourself, for you can do all things.
173 Satan's
temptations during meditation. I felt a strange fear that the priest would not
understand me, or
that he would have no time to hear everything I would have to say. How am I
going to tell him all this? If it were Father Bukowski I could do it more
easily, but this Jesuit whom I am seeing for the first time... Then I
remembered Father Bukowski's advice that I should at least take brief notes of
the lights sent to me by God during the retreats and give him at least a brief
report on them. My God, for a day and a half all has gone well, and now a life
and death struggle is beginning. The conference is to start in a half hour, and
then I am to go to confession. Satan tried to persuade me into believing that
if my superiors have told me that my inner life is an illusion, why should I
ask again and trouble the confessor? Didn't MX [probably Mother Jane] tell you
that the Lord Jesus does not commune with souls as miserable as yours? This
confessor is going to tell you the same thing. Why speak to him about all this?
These are not sins, and Mother X, told you that all this communing with the
Lord Jesus was daydreaming and pure hysteria. So why tell it to this confessor?
You would do better to dismiss all this as illusions. Look how many
humiliations you have suffered because of them, and how many more are still
awaiting you, and all the sisters know that you are a hysteric.
"Jesus!" I called out with all the strength of my soul.
216 We have come to
Cracow today [April 18, 1933]. What a joy it is to find myself again where I
took my first steps in the spiritual life! Dear Mother Directress [Mary Joseph]
is ever the same, cheerful and full of love of neighbor. I entered the chapel
for a moment and joy filled my soul. In a flash I recalled the whole ocean of
graces that had been given me as a novice here.
241 Love of neighbor.
First: Helpfulness towards the sisters. Second: Do not speak about those who
are absent, and defend the good name of my neighbor. Third: Rejoice in the
success of others.
267 Jesus told me that I please Him
best by meditating on His sorrowful Passion, and by such meditation much light
falls upon my soul. He who wants to learn true humility should reflect upon the
Passion of Jesus. When I meditate upon the Passion of Jesus, I get a clear
understanding of many things I could not comprehend before. I want to resemble
You, O Jesus,-You crucified, tortured and humiliated. Jesus, imprint upon my
heart and soul Your own humility. I love You, Jesus, to the point of madness,
You who were crushed with suffering as described by the prophet [cf. Isaiah
53:2-9], as if he could not see the human form in You because of Your great
suffering. It is in this condition, Jesus, that I love You to the point of
madness. O eternal and infinite God, what has love done to You?...
275
Jesus loves hidden souls. A hidden flower is the most fragrant. I must strive
to make the interior of my soul a resting place for the Heart of Jesus. In
difficult and painful moments, O my Creator, I sing You a hymn of trust, for
bottomless is the abyss of my trust in You and in Your mercy!
278 At the feet of the Lord. Hidden
Jesus, Eternal Love, our Source of Life, Divine Madman, in that You forget
yourself and see only us. Before creating heaven and earth, You carried us in
the depths of Your Heart. O Love, O depth of Your abasement, O mystery of
happiness, why do so few people know You? Why is Your love not returned? O
Divine Love, why do You hide Your beauty? O Infinite One beyond all
understanding, the more I know You the less I comprehend You; but because I
cannot comprehend You, I better comprehend Your greatness. I do not envy the
Seraphim their fire, for I have a greater gift deposited in my heart. They
admire You in rapture, but Your Blood mingles with mine. Love is heaven given
us already here on earth. Oh, why do You hide in faith? Love tears away the
veil. There is no veil before the eye of my soul, for You yourself have drawn
me into the bosom of secret love forever. Praise and glory be to You, O
Indivisible Trinity, One God, unto ages of ages!
279 God made known to
me what true love consists in and gave light to me about how, in practice, to
give proof of it to Him. True love of God consists in carrying out God's will.
To show God our love in what we do, all our actions, even the least, must
spring from our love of God. And the Lord said to me, My child, you please Me
most by suffering. In your physical as well as your mental sufferings, My
daughter, do not seek sympathy from creatures. I want the fragrance of your
suffering to be pure and unadulterated. I want you to detach yourself, not only
from creatures, but also from yourself. My daughter, I want to delight in the
love of your heart, a pure love, virginal, unblemished, untarnished. The more you
will come to love suffering, My daughter, the purer your love for Me will be.
281 I feel certain that my mission will not come
to an end upon my death, but will begin. O doubting souls, I will draw aside
for you the veils of heaven to convince you of God's goodness, so that you will
no longer continue to wound with your distrust the sweetest Heart of Jesus. God
is Love and Mercy.
282 Once the Lord said to me, My Heart was moved by great mercy towards
you, My dearest child, when I saw you torn to shreds because of the great pain
you suffered in repenting for your sins. I see your love, so pure and true that
I give you first place among the virgins. You are the honor and glory of My
Passion. I see every abasement of your soul, and nothing escapes my attention.
I lift up the humble even to my very throne, because I want it so.
283 I want to love You as no human
soul has ever loved You before; and although I am utterly miserable and small,
I have nevertheless cast the anchor of my trust deep down into the abyss of
Your mercy, O my God and Creator! In spite of my great misery I fear nothing,
but hope to sing You a hymn of glory forever. Let no soul, even the most
miserable, fall prey to doubt; for, as long as one is alive, each one can
become a great saint, so great is the power of God's grace. It remains only for
us not to oppose God's action.
287 +My Jesus, when I look at this
life of souls, I see that many of them serve You with some mistrust. At certain
times, especially when there is an opportunity to show their love for God, I
see them running away from the battlefield. And once Jesus said to me, Do
you, my child, also want to act like that? I answered the Lord, "Oh,
no, my Jesus, I will not retreat from the battlefield, even if mortal sweat
breaks out on my brow; I will not let the sword fall from my hand until I rest
at the feet of the Holy Trinity!" Whatever I do, I do not rely on my own
strength, but on God's grace. With God's grace a soul can overcome the greatest
difficulties.
294 +Once the Lord
said to me, Act like a beggar who does not back away when he gets more alms
[than he asked for], but offers thanks the more fervently. You too should not
back away and say that you are not worthy of receiving greater graces when I
give them to you. I know you are unworthy, but rejoice all the more and take as
many treasures from My Heart as you can carry, for then you will please Me
more. And I will tell you one more thing: Take these graces not only for
yourself, but also for others; that is, encourage the souls with whom you come
in contact to trust in My infinite mercy. Oh, how I love those souls who have
complete confidence in Me. I will do everything for them.
296 +O Supreme Good,
I want to love You as no one on earth has ever loved You before! I want to
adore You with every moment of my life and unite my will closely to Your holy
will. My life is not drab or monotonous, but it is varied like a garden of
fragrant flowers, so that I don't know which flower to pick first, the lily of
suffering or the rose of love of neighbor or the violet of humility. I will not
enumerate these treasures in which my every day abounds. It is a great thing to
know how to make use of the present moment.
343 True love is
measured by the thermometer of suffering. Jesus, I thank You for the little
daily crosses, for opposition to my endeavors, for the hardships of communal
life, for the misinterpretation of my intentions, for humiliations at the hands
of others, for the harsh way in which we are treated, for false suspicions, for
poor health and loss of strength, for self-denial, for dying to myself, for
lack of recognition in everything, for the upsetting of all my plans.
Thank You, Jesus, for interior sufferings, for dryness of spirit, for terrors, fears and incertitudes, for the darkness and the deep interior night, for temptations and various ordeals, for torments too difficult to describe, especially for those which no one will understand, for the hour of death with its fierce struggle and all its bitterness.
I thank You, Jesus, You who first drank the cup of bitterness before You gave it to me, in a much milder form. I put my lips to this cup of Your holy will. Let all be done according to Your good pleasure; let that which Your wisdom ordained before the ages be done to me. I want to drink the cup to its last drop, and not seek to know the reason why. In bitterness is my joy, in hopelessness is my trust. In You, O Lord, all is good, all is a gift of Your paternal Heart. I do not prefer consolations over bitterness or bitterness over consolations, but thank You, O Jesus, for everything! It is my delight to fix my gaze upon You, O incomprehensible God! My spirit abides in these mysterious dwelling places, and there I am at home. I know very well the dwelling place of my Spouse. I feel there is not a single drop of blood in me that does not burn with love for You.
O Uncreated Beauty, whoever comes to know You once cannot love anything else. I can feel the bottomless abyss of my soul, and nothing will fill it but God himself. I feel that I am drowned in Him like a single grain of sand in a bottomless ocean.
Thank You, Jesus, for interior sufferings, for dryness of spirit, for terrors, fears and incertitudes, for the darkness and the deep interior night, for temptations and various ordeals, for torments too difficult to describe, especially for those which no one will understand, for the hour of death with its fierce struggle and all its bitterness.
I thank You, Jesus, You who first drank the cup of bitterness before You gave it to me, in a much milder form. I put my lips to this cup of Your holy will. Let all be done according to Your good pleasure; let that which Your wisdom ordained before the ages be done to me. I want to drink the cup to its last drop, and not seek to know the reason why. In bitterness is my joy, in hopelessness is my trust. In You, O Lord, all is good, all is a gift of Your paternal Heart. I do not prefer consolations over bitterness or bitterness over consolations, but thank You, O Jesus, for everything! It is my delight to fix my gaze upon You, O incomprehensible God! My spirit abides in these mysterious dwelling places, and there I am at home. I know very well the dwelling place of my Spouse. I feel there is not a single drop of blood in me that does not burn with love for You.
O Uncreated Beauty, whoever comes to know You once cannot love anything else. I can feel the bottomless abyss of my soul, and nothing will fill it but God himself. I feel that I am drowned in Him like a single grain of sand in a bottomless ocean.
375 Particular
interior practice; that is, the examination of conscience. Self-denial, denial
of my own will.
I. The denial of my
reason. Subjecting it to the reason of those who represent God to me here on
earth.
II. The denial of my
will. Doing the will of God, which is revealed in the will of those who
represent God to me and which is contained in the rule of our order.
III. The denial of my
judgment. Accepting immediately and without reflection, analysis or reasoning
all orders given by those who represent God to me.
IV. The denial of my
tongue. I will not give it the least bit of freedom; but in one case only I
will give it complete freedom; that is, in proclaiming the glory of God.
Whenever I receive Holy Communion, I will ask Jesus to fortify and cleanse my
tongue that I may not injure my neighbor with it. That is why I have the
greatest respect for the rule which speaks about silence.
383 At the beginning
of the retreat, I saw, on the ceiling of the chapel, Jesus nailed to the Cross.
He was looking at the sisters with great love, but not at all of them. There
were three sisters at whom Jesus looked severely, for what reasons I do not
know. I only know what a terrible thing it is to meet with such a look, which
is the look of a severe Judge. That look was not directed at me, and yet I was
paralyzed with terror. I still tremble as I write these words. I did not dare
to say so much as a single word to Jesus. My physical strength failed me, and I
thought I would not live to the end of the conference. The next day, I saw the
same thing again, just as I had seen it the first time, and this time I dared
to speak these words: "Jesus, how great is Your mercy!"
On the third day,
that gaze of great kindness upon all the sisters, except the three, was again
repeated. I gathered up my courage, which drew its force from love of neighbor,
and I said to the Lord, "You, who are Mercy Itself, as You yourself told
me, I beg You by the power of Your mercy, to look then with kindness at these
three sisters as well. And if this is not in accord with Your wisdom, I ask You
for an exchange: turn to them the kind look meant for my soul, and let Your
severe gaze at their souls be turned on me." Jesus then said to me these
words: My daughter, for the sake of your sincere and generous love, I grant
them many graces although they are not asking Me for them. But I am doing so
because of the promise I have made to you. And at that moment, He turned a
merciful look towards those three sisters as well. My heart leapt with joy to
see the goodness of God.
549 Work. As poor
persons, the nuns themselves will do all the work in the convent. Each one
should be glad when she is given some work which is humbling or which goes
against her nature, as that will greatly help her interior formation. The
superior will often change the sisters' duties, and in this way help them to
detach themselves completely from the little details to which women have a
great attachment. Truly, I often find it amusing to see with my own eyes souls
who have forsaken really great things only to attach themselves to fiddle
faddle; that is, trifles. Each sister, including even the superior, shall work
in the kitchen for a month. Every one should take a turn at every chore which
is to be done in the convent.
571 O my Jesus, Eternal Truth, I fear nothing,
neither hardships nor sufferings; I fear only one thing, and that is to offend
You. My Jesus, I would rather not exist than make You sad. Jesus, You know that
my love knows no one but You. My soul is absorbed in You.
590 When I receive
Holy Communion, I entreat and beg the Savior to heal my tongue, that I may
never fail in love of neighbor.
692 + O Jesus, I
understand that Your mercy is beyond all imagining, and therefore I ask You to
make my heart so big that there will be room in it for the needs of all the
souls living on the face of the earth. O Jesus, my love extends beyond the
world, to the souls suffering in purgatory, and I want to exercise mercy toward
them by means of indulgenced prayers. God's mercy is unfathomable and
inexhaustible, just as God himself is unfathomable. Even if I were to use the
strongest words there are to express this mercy of God, all this would be nothing
in comparison with what it is in reality. O Jesus, make my heart sensitive to
all the sufferings of my neighbor, whether of body or of soul. O my Jesus, I
know that You act toward us as we act toward our neighbor.
My Jesus, make my
heart like unto Your merciful Heart. Jesus, help me to go through life doing
good to everyone.
700 + Once, when I
was very tired and in much pain, I told Mother Superior [Irene] about it and
received the answer that I should get used to suffering. I listened to
everything that Mother told me, and then I went out. Our Mother Superior has
great love of neighbor and especially great love for the sick sisters, as
everyone knows. And yet, as regards me, it is extraordinary that the Lord Jesus
has permitted that she not understand me and that she test me much in this
respect.
704 I spend every
free moment at the feet of the hidden God. He is my Master; I ask Him about
everything; I speak to Him about everything. Here I obtain strength and light;
here I learn everything; here I am given light on how to act toward my
neighbor. From the time I left the novitiate, I have enclosed myself in the
tabernacle together with Jesus, my Master. He himself drew me into the fire of
living love on which everything converges.
742 My daughter, if I
demand through you that people revere My mercy, you should be the first to
distinguish yourself by this confidence in My mercy. I demand from you deeds of
mercy, which are to arise out of love for Me. You are to show mercy to your
neighbors always and everywhere. You must not shrink from this or try to excuse
or absolve yourself from it.
I am giving you three
ways of exercising mercy toward your neighbor: the first-by deed, the second-by
word, the third-by prayer. In these three degrees is contained the fullness of
mercy, and it is an unquestionable proof of love for Me. By this means a soul
glorifies and pays reverence to My mercy. Yes, the first Sunday after Easter is
the Feast of Mercy, but there must also be acts of mercy, and I demand the
worship of My mercy through the solemn celebration of the Feast and through the
veneration of the image which is painted. By means of this image I shall grant
many graces to souls. It is to be a reminder of the demands of My mercy,
because even the strongest faith is of no avail without works. O my Jesus, You
yourself must help me in everything, because You see how very little I am, and
so I depend solely on Your goodness, O God.
+ Particular Examen
Union with the
merciful Christ. With my heart I encompass the whole world, especially
countries which are uncivilized or where there is persecution. I am praying for
mercy upon them.
791 Hide me, Jesus,
in the depths of Your mercy, and then let my neighbor judge me as he pleases.
856 During the
morning meditation, I felt an aversion and a repugnance for all created things.
Everything pales before my eyes; my spirit is detached from all things. I
desire only God himself, and yet I must live. This is a martyrdom beyond
description. God imparts himself to the soul in a loving way and draws it into
the infinite depths of His divinity, but at the same time He leaves it here on
earth for the sole purpose that it might suffer and die of longing for Him. And
this strong love is so pure that God himself finds pleasure in it; and self-love
has no access to its deeds, for here everything is totally saturated with
bitterness, and thus is totally pure. Life is a continuous dying, painful and
terrible, and at the same time it is the depth of true life and of
inconceivable happiness and the strength of the soul; and because of this, [the
soul] is capable of great deeds for the sake of God.
861 Particular
examen: remains the same; namely, to unite myself with the Merciful Christ
(that is; what would Christ do in such and such a case?) and, in spirit, to
embrace the whole world, especially Russia and Spain.
General resolutions.
I. Strict observance
of silence - interior silence.
II. To see the image
of God in every sister; all love of neighbor must flow from this motive.
III. To do the will of
God faithfully at every moment of my life and to live by this.
IV. To give a
faithful account of everything to the spiritual director and not to undertake
anything of importance without a clear understanding with him. I shall try to
clearly lay bare to him the most secret depths of my soul, bearing in mind that
I am dealing with God himself, and that His representative is just a human
being, and so I must pray daily that he be given light.
V. During the evening
examination of conscience, I am to ask myself the question: What if He were to
call me today?
VI. Not to look for
God far away, but within my own being to abide with Him alone.
VII. In sufferings
and torments, to take refuge in the tabernacle and to be silent.
VIII. To join all
sufferings, prayers, works and mortifications to the merits of Jesus in order
to obtain mercy for the world.
IX. To use free
moments, however short, for prayers for the dying.
X. There must not be
a day in my life when I do not recommend to the Lord the works of our Congregation.
Never have regard for what others think of you [for human respect].
XI. Have no familiar
relationships with anyone. Gentle firmness toward the girls, boundless
patience; punish them severely but with such punishments as these: prayer and
self-sacrifice. The strength that is in the emptying of myself for their sake
is for them a [source of] constant remorse and the softening of their obdurate
hearts.
XII. The presence of
God is the basis of all my thoughts, words and deeds.
XIII. To take
advantage of all spiritual help. To always put self-love in its proper place;
namely, the last. To perform my spiritual exercises as though I were doing them
for the last time in my life, and in like manner to carry out all my duties.
871 + My Master,
cause my heart never to expect help from anyone, but I will always strive to
bring assistance, consolation and all manner of relief to others. My heart is
always open to the sufferings of others; and I will not close my heart to the
sufferings of others, even though because of this I have been scornfully
nicknamed "dump"; that is, [because] everyone dumps his pain into my
heart. [To this] I answered that everyone has a place in my heart and I, in
return, have a place in the Heart of Jesus. Taunts regarding the law of love
will not narrow my heart. My soul is always sensitive on this point, and Jesus
alone is the motive for my love of neighbor.
944 + There are
moments when I mistrust myself, when I feel my own weakness and wretchedness in
the most profound depths of my own being, and I have noticed that I can endure
such moments only by trusting in the infinite mercy of God. Patience, prayer
and silence-these are what give strength to the soul. There are moments when
one should be silent, and when it would be inappropriate to talk with
creatures; these are the moments when one is dissatisfied with oneself, and
when the soul feels as weak as a little child. Then the soul clings to God with
all its might. At such times, I live solely by faith, and when I feel
strengthened by God's grace, then I am more courageous in speaking and
communicating with my neighbors.
1039 + I suffer great
pain at the sight of the sufferings of others. All these sufferings are
reflected in my heart. I carry their torments in my heart so that it even wears
me out physically. I would like all pains to fall upon me so as to bring relief
to my neighbor.
1662 + O Christ,
suffering for You is the delight of my heart and my soul. Prolong my sufferings
to infinity, that I may give You a proof of my love. I accept everything that
Your hand will hold out to me. Your love, Jesus, is enough for me. I will
glorify You in abandonment and darkness, in agony and fear, in pain and
bitterness, in anguish of spirit and grief of heart. In all things may You be
blessed. My heart is so detached from the earth, that You Yourself are enough
for me. There is no longer any moment in my life for self concern.
1663 Holy Thursday [April 14, 1938]. Today I
felt strong enough to take part in the ceremonies of the Church. During Holy
Mass, Jesus stood before me and said, Look into My Heart and see there the love
and mercy which I have for humankind, and especially for sinners. Look, and
enter into My Passion. In an instant, I experienced and lived through the whole
Passion of Jesus in my own heart. I was surprised that these tortures did not
deprive me of my life.
1664 During
adoration, Jesus said to me, My daughter, know that your ardent love and the
compassion you have for Me were a consolation to Me in the Garden [of Olives].
1665 During Holy Hour
in the evening, I heard the words, You see My mercy for sinners, which at this
moment is revealing itself in all its power. See how little you have written
about it; it is only a single drop. Do what is in your power, so that sinners
may come to know My goodness.
(Diary of
Sister Faustina Kowalska Notebook-I-57-58, 77, 93, 96-98, 101 116, 118)
(Diary of
Sister Faustina Kowalska Notebook-I-140, 147, 173, 163, 216, 241, 267, 275)
(Diary of
Sister Faustina Kowalska Notebook-I-278, 279, 281, 287, 282-283, 294, 296)
(Diary of
Sister Faustina Kowalska Notebook-I-343, 375, 383)
(Diary of
Sister Faustina Kowalska Notebook-II-549, 571, 590, 692, 700, 704, 742)
(Diary of
Sister Faustina Kowalska Notebook-II-791, 856, 861, 871, 944)
(Diary of
Sister Faustina Kowalska Notebook-III-1029, 1039)
(Diary of
Sister Faustina Kowalska Notebook-VI-1662-1663)
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