Volume I, Treatise V, Chapter XIII

An Answer to the Complaints of Such as Say They Are not Capable of Meditating

Wuat we have already said may serve as a sufficient answer to those who complain they know not how to meditate; because nothing ever presenting itself to their minds to help them to extend the points they have taken, they presently want matter. There is nothing in this that should afflict them, for as we have already said, neditation is an exercise that consists more in the acts of the will than in the discourses of the understanding. And even the masters of a spiritual life admonish us to take care that the meditation be not too long; because by this means, and particularly when we entertain ourselves with curious and subtile reflections, we only check the motions and affections of the will, which ought to be the chief end of prayer. The reason of this is most clear and natural. For it is certuin, if a supply gives but one inch of water, and if it be distributed among different pipes, the more there runs through one, the less there will run through the other. Now the virtue of our soul is finite and limited; so that the more it effuses itself by the channel of the understanding, the less it will be able to transmit by that of the will; and thus we see by experience, that when our heart is filled with devotion, if the understanding lets itself be carried away with speculations and curious reflections, the devotion is presently spent, and our heart becomes dry. The reason of this is, because the spring flows entirely through the channel of the understanding, and therefore that of the will must necessarily-be dried up. Hence it is, says Gerson, that those who are not learned are sometimes more devout, and make their prayer far better than others, because the understanding does not present to them so many objects to distract their attention, and without running after far-fetched speculations, they presently endeavour to move their wills by simple and familiar reflections, which make a deeper impression upon them than the most sublime and exquisite meditations can make upon others. We have an example of this in the cookI have already mentioned, who, from the material fire he had continually before his eyes, took occasion to call to mind the eternal fire of hell, and to be so deeply impressed with sentiments of devotion, that amidst his occupations he had continually the gift of tears.

What is to be farther observed is, provided the motions of the will and sentiments of the heart are very sublime, it is no matter whether the thoughts or the reflections that cause them be ever so mean and common. We have sufficient proofs and examples of this truth in Scripture, where the Holy Ghost, by simple and easy comparisons, is oftentimes pleased to explain the highest and most sublime mysteries. St. Ambrose, speaking of this verse of the Psalmist, “Who will give me the wings of a dove, that I may fly and be at rest?” (Psal. liv. 7), asks the question why the prophet, desirous to fly and raise himself on high, should desire rather the wings of a dove than of any other fowl, since there are many more swift than a dove? It is, says he, because the prophet knew very well that to fly to the highest pitch or summit of perfection, and to raise ourselves to what is most sublime in prayer, the wings of a dove are the best; that is to say, that simplicity of heart is more proper and fit for it than the sublimity and refinement of the understanding, according to the words of the Wise Man—“The conversation of our Lord is with the simple.” (Proverbs 3:32)

We have no reason, then, to be uneasy when, during prayer, we feel it difficult to make great or long discourses, when we find not reflections for enlarging on the points of our meditation. On the contrary, it is maintained with a great deal of reason, that in a spiritual life these are in the best state in whom God dries up the source of vague and diffuse speculation, and opens

at the same time in them the source of the affections and feelings of the heart, in order that the understanding, remaining in a most profound tranquillity, the will may repose in God alone, and entirely employ itself in the love and enjoyment of the sovereign good. If our Lord bestows upon you this favour, that by the help of some simple reflection, or by the sole consideration of his being made man, of his being born for your sake in a stable, and dying for you upon a cross, you find and feel yourself inflamed with his love, and with a desire to humble and mortify yourself for his sake, and that you entertain yourself for a long time herein, this kind of prayer is without doubt far better and far more profitable than if you had busied yourself with long reflections and subljme discourses, because you dwelled upon that which is most exquisite and essential in prayer, and upon that which ought to be the end and fruit of it. This shews us how much these deceive themselves who imagine that not to make reflections is to pray ill, and to make them is to pray well.

We read in the Chronicles of St. Francis, that a holy religious, named brother Giles, said one day to St. Bonaventure, who was general of their order, “God has given great talents to you and other learned men, that you may serve and praise him; but we simple and ignorant people, who have no light at all, what can we do to please God?” “If nothing more,” replied St. Bonaventure, “were given to a may than grace to love God, this would suffice to render him more pleasing to God, and to make him merit more than he would by using all other means together.” ‘ How,” replied the good religious, “is it possible, then, that an ignorant and simple person should be able to love Jesus Christ as much as a wise and learned man?” “It is possible,” replied St. Bonaventure, “that a poor, simple, ignorant woman may have as great love and charity as a very learned divine.” Hereupon the good religious, transported with fervour, ran about that side of the garden next the town, and cried out with a loud voice, “Poor, simple woman, love but our Lord Jesus Christ, and you may have greater merit than brother Bonaventure;” and he had scarce ended these words, but, as he frequently did, he fell into an ecstasy, and remained in it for three whole hours together.

About ReligiousBookshelf.com · A Supernerd Media project