Volume I, Treatise V, Chapter XVIII

That It Is Always in Our Power to Make Our Prayer Well, and to Derive _ Advantage from It

Tux sublime and extraordinary prayer which I have before spoken of, is in truth a very particular gift of God, which he bestows upon a few persons only; but as to ordinary mental prayer, of which I speak at present, he refuses it to nobody. So that those who are not able to attain the other kind of prayer, and high contemplation, and who imagine that they cannot pray at all, and that they are unfit for this exercise, deceive themselves extremely. For the ordinary prayer I speak of is very holy and profitable; because it is sufficient to render us perfect. And although God does not favour us at present with the other, yet this prayer is an excellent disposition to move him afterwards to bestow it. Wherefore, [ shall now make it clearly appear, that with the assistance of God’s grace, it is always in our power to perform well this last kind of prayer, and thereby to promote our salvation—which, without doubt, cannot but be a great comfort unto us.

This proposition is a consequence deduced from what I have already said in the preceding chapters, and may be proved two ways. We can prove it, first, from the form of prayer taught by St. Ignatius, which does not consist in our having certain sweet-nesses and sensible comforts, but only in exercising the three powers of our soul. In this prayer, we first call to mind, by help of our memory, the point or mystery we should meditate on; afterwards we reflect and meditate, by the means of our understanding, upon such things as may help us to excite our affections; and lastly, we produce acts of our will. Now, this exercise is always in our power, whatsoever state of dryness and aridity we may feel ourselves in. For let the aridity be ever so great, yet it is always in our power to produce an act of detestation and sorrow for our sins; an act of the love of God, an act of patience, and an act of humility, that may even reach so far as to desire to be depised by the world, that we may the better imitate Jesus Christ, who was so kind as, for love of us, to become the reproach and scorn of men.

We must, moreover, call to mind, and believe it for a certain truth, that neither the merit nor fruit of prayer, nor the merit or fruit of these sorts of acts, consists in our having sweetness and comfort when making them; nor in being very much touched by them: it is in this many err and afflict themselves without cause, imagining they do nothing in prayer, because they feel not in themselves either so much sorrow for their sins as they would have, or so much love for virtue as they desire to possess. Sensible feelings of this kind are produced by the sensible appetite. But the will being a spiritual power depends not at all upon sense, and therefore it is not in the least necessary that we should have these sensible feelings; it is enough that we produce the acts with a firm and resolute will. Wherefore, divines and holy persons, speaking of contrition and sorrow for sins, comfort their penitents, who, when they reflect upon the enormity of one mortal sin, are dejected because they cannot shed tears, and because their hearts do not, as they could wish, even burst with sorrow. True contrition, say they, and true sorrow for sin, is not in the sensible appetite, but is in the will alone; wherefore be sorry that you have sinned, because thereby you have offended God, who deserves to be loved above all things, and thus it will become true contrition. As for those other motions that proceed from the interior or sensitive part, when God pleases to send them, receive them with due thanks, but afflict not yourself at all when you have them not; for God does not require_them, or does he desire anything of you that is not in your power to perform. These sensible affections you desire to have are nothing else but a certain kind of sweetness and sensible consolation, that depends not upon you at all, nor is it in your power, and therefore God does not require it of you. But what he exacts is in your power to perform, without any dependence at all upon your sensitive appetite; and this is a grief that proceeds from a determined will never more to offend him. It is the same with respect to acts of the love of God. Love God above all things, with a firm and constant will, and this is that solid and true love of esteem which he requires. The other kind of love is such a tenderness of affection, as is not in our power, and the same may be said with respect to all other acts of virtue, and all other resolutions we make.

The truth of what I have here said may easily be inferred from such sinful acts as are contrary to the former. For if, for example, we consent to a mortal sin, it is certain that though at the same time we feel no sensible motion in ourselves, nor any pleasure at all therein, yet we cease not to offend mortally, and to deserve eternal damnation. By consequence, therefore, if we will and desire effectually what is good, though we feel not any sweetness in conceiving this will, yet, nevertheless, we fail not to please God, and merit heaven; chiefly because God is always more ready to reward than he is to punish. I say yet more, that acts of this sort, which are made with an extreme dryness, and without any pleasure or sensible comfort, are more meritorious and pleasing to God than the others are; because they are more pure, more strong, more lasting, more our own; and because we take more pains in producing them, than when we are urged to them by fervour and devotion. And they are, moreover, asign of a more solid virtue, and of a will more firm and constant in God’s service; because if we produce them without the help of spiritual consolations, what should we not do, had we them to help us? Such as produce no

Vols I. U acts without the help of these sensible sweetnesses and comforts are, as Father Avila says, like infants that must be carried in persons’ arms; but the others are like those who are able to walk alone. And Blosius says, that persons of this last description resemble those who serve their prince at their own expense. But it is of very great importance to accustom ourselves to these sorts of aridities in prayer; because these aridities are very frequent, and sensible comforts occur but seldom. And as galleys, when the wind fails, ply the car, so when the favourable wind of Divine consolaion is wanting to us in prayer, we must help ourselves by the powers of our soul, assisted by the succour of the Holy Ghost; and always continue our course, though the succours be less abundant, or less sensible than they were wont to be.

2ndly. What we advanced in the beginning of this chapter may also be proved in the following manner:—Prayer, as we have said elsewhere, is not the end we propose to ourselves in a spiritual life; it is only a means by which we help ourselves to make progress in virtue, and to obtain a victory over our passions and evil inclinations, in order that, having surmounted all the obstacles that hinder us from approaching God, and having made straight the path that leads to him, we may unite ourselves inseparably with him. When St. Paul had the eyes of his soul entirely opened by God, by that light which flashed on him from heaven, and by that divine voice that said to him, “I am Jesus whom you persecute” (Acts 9:5), what a change was then made upon a sudden in him? With what promptitude, with what submission, did he then abandon himself to the will of God, as his own words testify—‘ Lord, what would you have me do?” (Acts 9:6) Behold here the fruit of a good prayer—behold the effect it ought to produce in us. I have also said that we must not content ourselves with forming general resolutions, but we must descend to such particular ones as are more necessary for us, and carefully prepare ourselves for such trials as may occur during the day, and in all things act with edit-cation. Now, to apply this to our subject, I say it is always in our power to apply ourselves to that which is more necessary for us. Let us apply ourselves, one, for example, to humility, another to patience, another to obedience, another to the spirit of mortification and resignation, and let us endeavour to rise from prayer more humble, more patient, more obedient, and with a greater desire of mortification and of conformity to the will of God than we brought to it; above all, let us endeavour to prevail with ourselves to live during the day in very great innocency, and with edification to our neighbour, each one according to his employment; and by this means we shall have made a better prayer than if we had shed many tears and received very great lights and consolations.

This being so, we must not feel uneasy at our not being favoured with many reflections, or effusions of tenderness, or elevations, or raptures of devotion, for prayer consists not in these, but only in the fruit we reap from it. Nor must we be in pain about our distractions, or the thoughts that are wont to disquiet us in prayer, of which the world do commonly complain. All required of you is, when you perceive them, and when you are come to yourself, to endeavour to employ your thoughts about what is most necessary; that is to say, endeavour then to reap from your prayer the fruit you proposed to yourself, and thereby you will repair the time you have lost, and revenge yourself upon the devil, who tried to distract you by extravagant thoughts, which were either out of season, or which rendered your meditation unprofitable. And as a traveller who falls asleep upon the way, and is left behind by his companions, as soon as he awakes, presses forward to overtake them, and rides more in a quarter of an hour than, were it not that he slept, he would have done in an hour; so, when you come to yourself after your distractions, you must so employ the remaining quarter of an hour, that therein you may perform what you might and should have done in the whole hour, had you been attentive. Wherefore call yourself to account; ask yourself what the fruit was you designed to reap from your prayer, see whether it be either a profound humility, an extreme indifference to all things of this world, or an entire resignation to the will of God, and use your utmost endeavour te derive this advantage from your prayer, notwithstanding all the distractions the devil had: been able to cause in you. But if indeed you should find that your whole time of prayer was spent without having reaped the fruit you desire, you must then, in the examining of your prayer, of which I shall afterwards treat, do that which I just now said, and thus you will make amends for your negligence in prayer, and will always reap fruit from it.

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