William of Saint-Thierry: The Mysteries of Your Dealings with Men Fill the Temple of Every Mind Saturday, Oct 30 2010

It is to my crucified one that I turn. His cross is my glory: its mark is on my brow.

It gives joy to my mind, direction to my life, love even for death itself….

The mysteries of your dealings with men here and now fill the temple of every mind, great and small.

May your holy angels…blissfully contemplate your divine majesty residing in your eternal wisdom:

Those things that are yet to be, seen before this our mortal wayfaring and after it, everything that is, past and future, enfolding it all within his eternal present which reaches in its power and strength from one extremity to another.

But our temporal passage, belonging to your dealings with men as a whole, Christ has strewn with his charity, disposing all things in sweetness, for the sake of the daughters of Jerusalem, the devout but as yet infirm souls.

They who have not thus far their elevated gaze fixed on contemplating the sublime would fain undergo hardship for your servants and be transformed so as to belong among their fellows.

Among these, O Lord, may my spirit some day be taught to adore you, spirit as you are, in spirit and in truth, flesh no longer desiring what is contrary to the spirit, nor yet holding it back.

But now that for the moment you are kept from boldly taking possession of what is to be yours, make a proper disposition of what is his, with what grace and harmony you best can, as befits him, the true owner.

I have not yet risen above the rough-hewn figures of my earthly imagination: but may you indulge and be gracious to my feeble spirit, as it expresses its true nature in letting its fancy play on your more humble creatures.

Behold! the meagre enfolding the newly born, the holy child being adored;

the footprints of the crucified one being licked, as he hangs on the cross;

his feet being held and kissed now that he is risen;

the hand, put in the place where the nails went;

and then the exclamation – My Lord and my God!

William of Saint-Thierry (c.1075/80-1148): Meditativae orationes X, from the Monastic Office of Vigils for Sunday of the Thirty-First Week in Ordinary Time Year 2.

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John Cassian: A Holy and Unceasing Pondering of the Divine Law Friday, Oct 29 2010

It is a sure sign of a mind that is cold and proud, if it receives with disdain and carelessness the medicine of the words of salvation, although it be offered with the zeal of excessive persistence. For “a soul that is full jeers at honeycomb; but to a soul that is in want even little things appear sweet” (Prov. 27:7).

And so, if these things have been carefully taken in and stored up in the recesses of the soul and stamped with the seal of silence, afterwards, like some sweet scented wine that makes glad the heart of man, they will, when mellowed by the antiquity of the thoughts and by long-standing patience, be brought forth from the jar of your heart with great fragrance.

And, like some perennial fountain, they will flow abundantly from the veins of experience and irrigating channels of virtue and will pour forth copious streams as if from some deep well in your heart.

For that will happen in your case, which is spoken in Proverbs to one who has achieved this in his work: “Drink waters from your own cisterns and from the fount of your own wells. Let waters from your own fountain flow in abundance for you, but let your waters pass through into your streets” (Prov. 5:15-16).

And according to the prophet Isaiah: “Thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a fountain of water whose waters shall not fail. And the places that have been desolate for ages shall be built in thee; thou shalt raise up the foundations of generation and generation; and thou shalt be called the repairer of the fences, turning the paths into rest” (Isaiah 58:11-12).

And that blessedness shall come upon you which the same prophet promises: “And the Lord will not cause thy teacher to flee away from thee any more, and thine eyes shall see thy teacher. And thine ears shall hear the word of one admonishing thee behind thy back: This is the way, walk ye in it, and go not aside either to the right hand or to the left” (Isaiah 30:20-21).

And so it will come to pass that not only every purpose and thought of your heart, but also all the wanderings and rovings of your imagination will become to you a holy and unceasing pondering of the Divine law.

John Cassian (c. 360-435): Conferences 14,13.

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Teresa of Avila: Troubled by this Turmoil of Thoughts Tuesday, Nov 3 2009

I, myself, have sometimes been troubled by this turmoil of thought.

I learnt by experience, but little more than four years ago, that our thoughts, or it is clearer to call it our imagination, are not the same thing as the understanding.

I questioned a theologian on the subject; he told me it was the fact, which consoled me not a little.

As the understanding is one of the powers of the soul, it puzzled me to see it so sluggish at times, while, as a rule, the imagination takes flight at once, so that God alone can control it by so uniting us to Himself that we seem, in a manner, detached from our bodies.

It puzzled me to see that while to all appearance the powers of the soul were occupied with God and recollected in Him, the imagination was wandering elsewhere.

…We cannot stop the revolution of the heavens as they rush with velocity upon their course, neither can we control our imagination.

When this wanders we at once imagine that all the powers of the soul follow it; we think everything is lost, and that the time spent in God’s presence is wasted.

Meanwhile, the soul is perhaps entirely united to Him in the innermost mansions, while the imagination is in the precincts of the castle, struggling with a thousand wild and venomous creatures and gaining merit by its warfare.

Therefore we need not let ourselves be disturbed, nor give up prayer, as the devil is striving to persuade us. As a rule, all our anxieties and troubles come from misunderstanding our own nature.

Teresa of Avila (1515-1582): Interior Castle 4,1,8-9.

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