Walking with the Lord… and Not
Realizing It
April 30, 2017. Third Sunday of Easter
Father Daniel Ray, LC
Luke 24: 13-35
Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus,
about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these
things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself
came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him.
And he said to them, "What are you discussing with each other while you
walk along?" They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name
was Cleopas, answered him, "Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who
does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?" He
asked them, "What things?" They replied, "The things about Jesus
of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the
people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned
to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem
Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things
took place. Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the
tomb early this morning, and when they did not find his body there, they came
back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he
was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as
the women had said; but they did not see him." Then he said to them,
"Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the
prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer
these things and then enter into his glory?" Then beginning with Moses and
all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the
scriptures. As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked
ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, "Stay
with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over." So
he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took
bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened,
and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each
other, "Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us
on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?" That same hour
they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their
companions gathered together. They were saying, "The Lord has risen
indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!" Then they told what had happened on
the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.
Introductory Prayer: Lord, I believe that You are present here and now
as I turn to You in prayer. I trust and have confidence in Your desire to give
me every grace I need to receive today. Thank You for Your love, thank You for Your
immense generosity toward me. I give You my life and my love in return.
Petition: Lord, may I always recognize and welcome Your presence and Your grace.
1. About Seven Miles from Jerusalem: It could have been seven miles
from anywhere. The disciples weren’t in a synagogue, or the Temple, or in the
holy city of Jerusalem. They weren’t in prayer or preaching. They weren’t
anywhere in particular; they were just between two places. They were leaving
behind what seemed to be a failed dream. Yet, precisely in that unexpected
moment—when they most needed it—Christ himself begins to walk with them.
Christ’s appearance is never a moment too late, nor does he ever come a moment
too soon.
2. Stay with Us: Christ doesn’t impose himself upon these two
disciples. He gives them the impression that he is traveling on, and he waits
for them to extend the invitation to stay with them that evening. So it is with
our lives and our hearts. Christ goes in only where he is invited and welcomed.
He will come in—he very much wants to come in––, but he will only do so if we
open the door.
3. Were Not Our Hearts Burning? Only in hindsight can we begin to
understand God’s timing and begin to unravel the meaning of his action in our
lives. Only in looking back can we see why he gave us particular graces in the
moments he did. What would have happened if we didn’t respond and hold onto
that grace he offered? Take a moment to find God’s hand in the difficult
moments of your life.
Conversation with Christ: Lord, Your ways are beyond me. Your
timing is a mystery to me. But I know that with my mind and heart open through
prayer, You will be able to give me every grace I need, right when I need it
most.
Resolution: I will not let a single grace pass by today without acting on it.
Excerpts from the DIARY of Saint
Faustina Kowalska
24 One day, just as I had awakened,
when I was putting myself in the presence of God, I was suddenly overwhelmed by
despair. Complete darkness in the soul. I fought as best I could till noon. In
the afternoon, truly deadly fears began to seize me; my physical strength began
to leave me. I went quickly to my cell, fell on my knees before the Crucifix
and began to cry out for mercy. But Jesus did not hear my cries. I felt my
physical strength leave me completely. I fell to the ground, despair flooding
my whole soul. I suffered terrible tortures in no way different from the
torments of hell. I was in this state for three quarters of an hour. I wanted
to go and see the Directress, but was too weak. I wanted to shout but I had no
voice. Fortunately, one of the sisters [another novice, Sister Placida Putyra]
came into my cell. Finding me in such a strange condition, she immediately told
the Directress about it. Mother came at once. As soon as she entered the cell
she said, "In the name of holy obedience [16] get up from the ground." Immediately
some force raised me up from the ground and I stood up, close to the dear
Mother Directress. With kindly words she began to explain to me that this was a
trial sent to me by God, saying, "Have great confidence; God is always our
Father, even when He sends us trials."
I returned to my duties as if I had come out from the tomb, my senses saturated with what my soul had experienced. During the evening service, my soul began to agonize again in a terrible darkness. I felt that I was in the power of the Just God, and that I was the object of His indignation. During these terrible moments I said to God, "Jesus, who in the Gospel compare Yourself to a most tender mother," I trust in Your words because You are Truth and Life. In spite of everything, Jesus, I trust in You in the face of every interior sentiment which sets itself against hope. Do what You want with me; I will never leave You, because You are the source of my life." Only one who has lived through similar moments can understand how terrible is this torment of the soul.
I returned to my duties as if I had come out from the tomb, my senses saturated with what my soul had experienced. During the evening service, my soul began to agonize again in a terrible darkness. I felt that I was in the power of the Just God, and that I was the object of His indignation. During these terrible moments I said to God, "Jesus, who in the Gospel compare Yourself to a most tender mother," I trust in Your words because You are Truth and Life. In spite of everything, Jesus, I trust in You in the face of every interior sentiment which sets itself against hope. Do what You want with me; I will never leave You, because You are the source of my life." Only one who has lived through similar moments can understand how terrible is this torment of the soul.
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.
94 O my Lord, inflame my heart with
love for You, that my spirit may not grow weary amidst the storms, the
sufferings and the trials. You see how weak I am. Love can do all.
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.
166
In prayer I always find light and strength of spirit, although there are
moments so trying and hurtful, that it is sometimes difficult to imagine that
these things can happen in a convent. Strangely, God sometimes allows them, but
always in order to manifest or develop virtue in a soul. That is the reason for
trials.
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!
240 Three requests on the day of my perpetual vows. Jesus, I
know that today You will refuse me nothing.
First request: Jesus, my most beloved Spouse, I beg You for the triumph of the Church, particularly in Russia and in Spain; for blessings on the Holy Father, Pius XI, and on all the clergy; for the grace of conversion for impenitent sinners. And I ask You for a special blessing and for light, O Jesus, for the priests before whom I will make my confessions throughout my lifetime.
Second request :I beg Your blessings on our Congregation, and may it be filled with great zeal. Bless, O Jesus, our Mother General and our Mother Directress, all the novices and all the superiors. Bless my dearest parents. Bestow Your grace, O Jesus, on our wards; strengthen them so powerfully by Your grace so that those who leave our houses will no longer offend You by any sin. Jesus, I beg You for my homeland; protect it against the assaults of its enemies.
Third request:Jesus, I plead with You for the souls that are most in need of prayer. I plead for the dying; be merciful to them. I also beg You, Jesus, to free all souls from purgatory.
Jesus, I commend to You these particular persons: My confessors, persons recommended to my prayers, a certain person..., Father Andrasz, Father Czaputa, and the priest I met in Vilnius [Father Sopocko], who is to be my confessor, a certain soul... a certain priest, a certain religious[70] to whom You know how much I owe, Jesus, and all the people who have been recommended to my prayer. Jesus, on this day You can do everything for those for whom I am pleading. For myself I ask, Lord, transform me completely into Yourself, maintain in me a holy zeal for Your glory, give me the grace and spiritual strength to do Your holy will in all things.
Thank You, o my dearest Bridegroom, for the dignity You have conferred on me, and in particular for the royal coat-of-arms which will adorn me from this day on and which even the Angels do not possess; namely, the cross, the sword and the crown of thorns. But above all, O my Jesus, I thank You for Your Heart-it is all I need.
Mother of God, Most Holy Mary, my Mother, You are my Mother in a special way now because Your beloved Son is my Bridegroom, and thus we are both Your children. For Your Son's sake, You have to love me. O Mary, my dearest Mother, guide my spiritual life in such a way that it will please Your Son.
+Holy and Omnipotent God, at this moment of immense grace by which You are uniting me with Yourself forever, I, mere nothingness, with the utmost gratitude, cast myself at Your feet like a tiny, unknown flower and, each day, the fragrance of that flower of love will ascend to Your throne.
In times of struggle and suffering, of darkness and storm, of yearning and sorrow, in times of difficult trials, in times when nobody will understand me, when I will even be condemned and scorned by everyone, I will remember the day of my perpetual vows, the day of God's incomprehensible grace.
First request: Jesus, my most beloved Spouse, I beg You for the triumph of the Church, particularly in Russia and in Spain; for blessings on the Holy Father, Pius XI, and on all the clergy; for the grace of conversion for impenitent sinners. And I ask You for a special blessing and for light, O Jesus, for the priests before whom I will make my confessions throughout my lifetime.
Second request :I beg Your blessings on our Congregation, and may it be filled with great zeal. Bless, O Jesus, our Mother General and our Mother Directress, all the novices and all the superiors. Bless my dearest parents. Bestow Your grace, O Jesus, on our wards; strengthen them so powerfully by Your grace so that those who leave our houses will no longer offend You by any sin. Jesus, I beg You for my homeland; protect it against the assaults of its enemies.
Third request:Jesus, I plead with You for the souls that are most in need of prayer. I plead for the dying; be merciful to them. I also beg You, Jesus, to free all souls from purgatory.
Jesus, I commend to You these particular persons: My confessors, persons recommended to my prayers, a certain person..., Father Andrasz, Father Czaputa, and the priest I met in Vilnius [Father Sopocko], who is to be my confessor, a certain soul... a certain priest, a certain religious[70] to whom You know how much I owe, Jesus, and all the people who have been recommended to my prayer. Jesus, on this day You can do everything for those for whom I am pleading. For myself I ask, Lord, transform me completely into Yourself, maintain in me a holy zeal for Your glory, give me the grace and spiritual strength to do Your holy will in all things.
Thank You, o my dearest Bridegroom, for the dignity You have conferred on me, and in particular for the royal coat-of-arms which will adorn me from this day on and which even the Angels do not possess; namely, the cross, the sword and the crown of thorns. But above all, O my Jesus, I thank You for Your Heart-it is all I need.
Mother of God, Most Holy Mary, my Mother, You are my Mother in a special way now because Your beloved Son is my Bridegroom, and thus we are both Your children. For Your Son's sake, You have to love me. O Mary, my dearest Mother, guide my spiritual life in such a way that it will please Your Son.
+Holy and Omnipotent God, at this moment of immense grace by which You are uniting me with Yourself forever, I, mere nothingness, with the utmost gratitude, cast myself at Your feet like a tiny, unknown flower and, each day, the fragrance of that flower of love will ascend to Your throne.
In times of struggle and suffering, of darkness and storm, of yearning and sorrow, in times of difficult trials, in times when nobody will understand me, when I will even be condemned and scorned by everyone, I will remember the day of my perpetual vows, the day of God's incomprehensible grace.
272 But previously, this priest had
put me through many trials. When I told him that the Lord wanted these things
of me [that is, the painting of the image, the establishing of a feast of The
Divine Mercy, and the founding of a new community], he laughed at me and told
me to come to confession at eight in the evening. When I came at eight, a
brother was already locking the church. When I told him that Father had ordered
me to come at that time and asked him to let Father know I was there, the good
brother went to let him know. Father told him to tell me that priests do not
hear confessions at that time of day. I returned home emptyhanded and did not
go to confession to him again, but I made a whole hour's adoration and took on
certain mortifications for him, that he might obtain light from God in order to
know souls. But when Father Sopocko left, and he substituted for him, I was
forced to go to confession to him. Yet, while previously he had been unwilling
to acknowledge these inner inspirations, he now put me under obligation to be
faithful to them. God lets such things happen sometimes, but may He be
glorified in everything. Still, it requires much grace not to falter.
+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.
770 As for myself, I received this grace for the first time, and
that for only a brief moment, in the eighteenth [149] year of my life, within
the octave of Corpus Christi [June 18-25, 1925], during Vespers, when I made to
the Lord Jesus the vow of perpetual chastity. I was still living in the world,
but I entered the convent soon afterwards. The grace lasted for a very brief
moment, but its power was great. After this grace, there was a long interval.
It is true that I received many graces from the Lord during this interval, but
they were of a different order. It was a time of trials and purification. The
trials were so painful that my soul felt as though it was being totally
abandoned by God and it was steeped in profound darkness. I became aware and
understood that no one would be able to bring me out of those torments or even
understand me.
There were two occasions when my soul was plunged into despair,
once for half an hour, and the second time for three quarters of an hour. Just
as I cannot describe the greatness of the graces, so too with these ordeals
sent by the Lord; whatever words I might use, they are only a pale shadow [of
the reality]. However, just as the Lord plunged me into these torments, so too
He brought me out of them. Only this lasted for a few years, after which I
again received this extraordinary grace of union which has continued to this
day. Still, during this second period of union, there also have been short
interruptions. But for some time now, I have not experienced any interruption
at all; on the contrary, I am more and more deeply steeped in God. The great
light which illumines the mind gives me a knowledge of the greatness of God;
but it is not as if I were getting to know the individual attributes, as before
no, it is different now: in one moment, I come to know the entire essence of
God.
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.
897
January 27, 1937. I feel considerable improvement in my health. Jesus is
bringing me from the gates of death to life, because there was so little left
but for me to die, and lo, the Lord grants me the fullness of life. Although I
am still to remain in the sanatorium, I am almost completely well. I see that
the will of God has not yet been fulfilled in me, and that is why I must live,
for I know that if I fulfill everything the Lord has planned for me in this
world, He will not leave me in exile any longer, for heaven is my home. But
before we go to our Homeland, we must fulfill the will of God on earth; that
is, trials and struggles must run their full course in us.
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.
+ Conversation of the Merciful God
with a Suffering Soul
1487 Jesus: Poor soul, I see that you suffer much and that you do not have even the strength to coverse with me. So I will speak to you. Even though your sufferings were very great, do not lose heart or give in to despondency. But tell Me, my child, who has dared to wound your heart? Tell me about everything, be sincere in dealing with Me, reveal all the wounds of your heart. I will heal them, and your suffering will become a source of your sanctification.
Soul: Lord, my sufferings are so great and numerous and have lasted so long that I become discouraged.
Jesus: My child, do not be discouraged. I know your boundless trust in Me; I know you are aware of My goodness and mercy. Let us talk in detail about everything that weighs so heavily upon your heart.
Soul: There are so many different things that I do not know what to speak about first, nor how to express it.
Jesus: Talk to Me simply, as a friend to a friend. Tell Me now, My child, what hinders you from advancing in holiness?
Soul: Poor health detains me on the way to holiness. I cannot fulfill my duties. I am as useless as an extra wheel on a wagon. I cannot mortify myself or fast to any extent, as the saints did. Furthermore, nobody believes I am sick, so that mental pain is added to those of the body, and I am often humiliated. Jesus, how can anyone become holy in such circumstances?
Jesus: True, My child, all that is painful. But there is no way to heaven except the way of the cross. I followed it first. You must learn that it is the shortest and surest way.
Soul: Lord, there is another obstacle on the road to holiness. Because I am faithful to You, I am persecuted and suffer much.
Jesus: It is because you are not of this world that the world hates you. First it persecuted Me. Persecution is a sign that you are following in My footsteps faithfully.
Soul: My Lord, I am also discouraged because neither my superiors nor my confessor understand my interior trials. A darkness clouds my mind. How can I advance? All this discourages me from striving for the heights of sanctity.
Jesus: Well, My child, this time you have told Me a good deal. I realize how painful it is not to be understood, and especially by those whom one loves and with whom one has been very open. But suffice it to know that I understand all your troubles and misery. I am pleased by the deep faith you have, despite everything, in My representatives. Learn from this that no one will understand a soul entirely-that is beyond human ability. Therefore, I have remained on earth to comfort your aching heart and to fortify your soul, so that you will not falter on the way. You say that a dense darkness is obscuring your mind. But why, at such times, do you not come to Me, the light who can in an instant pour into your soul more understanding about holiness than can be found in any books? No confessor is capable of teaching and enlightening a soul in this way.
Know, too, that the darkness about which you complain I first endured in the Garden of Olives when My Soul was crushed in mortal anguish. I am giving you a share in those sufferings because of My special love for you and in view of the high degree of holiness I am intending for you in heaven. A suffering soul is closest to My Heart.
Soul: One more thing, Lord. What should I do when I am ignored and rejected by people, especially by those on whom I had a right to count in times of greatest need?
Jesus: My child, make the resolution never to rely on people. Entrust yourself completely to My will saying, "Not as I want, but according to Your will, O God, let it be done unto me." These words, spoken from the depths of one's heart, can raise a soul to the summit of sanctity in a short time. In such a soul I delight. Such a soul gives Me glory. Such a soul fills heaven with the fragrance of her virtue. But understand that the strength by which you bear sufferings comes from frequent Communions. So approach this fountain of mercy often, to draw with the vessel of trust whatever you need.
Soul: Thank You, Lord, for Your goodness in remaining with us in this exile as the God of mercy and blessing us with the radiance of Your compassion and goodness. It is through the light of Your mercy that I have come to understand how much You love me.
1487 Jesus: Poor soul, I see that you suffer much and that you do not have even the strength to coverse with me. So I will speak to you. Even though your sufferings were very great, do not lose heart or give in to despondency. But tell Me, my child, who has dared to wound your heart? Tell me about everything, be sincere in dealing with Me, reveal all the wounds of your heart. I will heal them, and your suffering will become a source of your sanctification.
Soul: Lord, my sufferings are so great and numerous and have lasted so long that I become discouraged.
Jesus: My child, do not be discouraged. I know your boundless trust in Me; I know you are aware of My goodness and mercy. Let us talk in detail about everything that weighs so heavily upon your heart.
Soul: There are so many different things that I do not know what to speak about first, nor how to express it.
Jesus: Talk to Me simply, as a friend to a friend. Tell Me now, My child, what hinders you from advancing in holiness?
Soul: Poor health detains me on the way to holiness. I cannot fulfill my duties. I am as useless as an extra wheel on a wagon. I cannot mortify myself or fast to any extent, as the saints did. Furthermore, nobody believes I am sick, so that mental pain is added to those of the body, and I am often humiliated. Jesus, how can anyone become holy in such circumstances?
Jesus: True, My child, all that is painful. But there is no way to heaven except the way of the cross. I followed it first. You must learn that it is the shortest and surest way.
Soul: Lord, there is another obstacle on the road to holiness. Because I am faithful to You, I am persecuted and suffer much.
Jesus: It is because you are not of this world that the world hates you. First it persecuted Me. Persecution is a sign that you are following in My footsteps faithfully.
Soul: My Lord, I am also discouraged because neither my superiors nor my confessor understand my interior trials. A darkness clouds my mind. How can I advance? All this discourages me from striving for the heights of sanctity.
Jesus: Well, My child, this time you have told Me a good deal. I realize how painful it is not to be understood, and especially by those whom one loves and with whom one has been very open. But suffice it to know that I understand all your troubles and misery. I am pleased by the deep faith you have, despite everything, in My representatives. Learn from this that no one will understand a soul entirely-that is beyond human ability. Therefore, I have remained on earth to comfort your aching heart and to fortify your soul, so that you will not falter on the way. You say that a dense darkness is obscuring your mind. But why, at such times, do you not come to Me, the light who can in an instant pour into your soul more understanding about holiness than can be found in any books? No confessor is capable of teaching and enlightening a soul in this way.
Know, too, that the darkness about which you complain I first endured in the Garden of Olives when My Soul was crushed in mortal anguish. I am giving you a share in those sufferings because of My special love for you and in view of the high degree of holiness I am intending for you in heaven. A suffering soul is closest to My Heart.
Soul: One more thing, Lord. What should I do when I am ignored and rejected by people, especially by those on whom I had a right to count in times of greatest need?
Jesus: My child, make the resolution never to rely on people. Entrust yourself completely to My will saying, "Not as I want, but according to Your will, O God, let it be done unto me." These words, spoken from the depths of one's heart, can raise a soul to the summit of sanctity in a short time. In such a soul I delight. Such a soul gives Me glory. Such a soul fills heaven with the fragrance of her virtue. But understand that the strength by which you bear sufferings comes from frequent Communions. So approach this fountain of mercy often, to draw with the vessel of trust whatever you need.
Soul: Thank You, Lord, for Your goodness in remaining with us in this exile as the God of mercy and blessing us with the radiance of Your compassion and goodness. It is through the light of Your mercy that I have come to understand how much You love me.
(Diary of Sister Faustina Kowalska Notebook-I-24, 77, 94, 96-98 105,
109, 112, 116)
(Diary of Sister Faustina Kowalska Notebook-I-117, 121, 166, 227, 240,
272)
(Diary of Sister Faustina Kowalska Notebook-II-580-581, 609, 770, 831,
848)
(Diary of Sister Faustina Kowalska
Notebook-II-897, 915, 940 )
(Diary of Sister Faustina Kowalska
Notebook-V-1487)
