Books: Light, Life, and Love
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W. R. Inge >> Light, Life, and Love
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Thirdly, we may apply this word to the Father, as if Christ said to
His Father: "Father, I have declared Thy name to mankind; I have
finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do; and in Thy service I
have spent My whole body as Thine instrument. Behold, I am all worn
out and exhausted; and yet I still thirst to do and suffer more for
Thine honour. This is why I hang here, extended to the furthest
breadth of love, for I long to be an everlasting sacrifice, a sweet
savour to Thee, and at the same time an eternal atonement and
salvation to mankind." Thus, too, might this strong Samson have
said: "O Lord, Thou hast put into the hand of Thy servant this very
great salvation and victory, and yet behold, I die of thirst." As if
He would say: "Father, I have accomplished Thy gracious will; I have
finished the work of man's salvation, as Thou didst demand; and yet
I still thirst; for the sins by which Thou art offended are
infinite. And so I desire that the love and merits of My Passion, by
which Thou wilt be appeased, may be infinite too. And as I now offer
myself as a peace-offering and a living sacrifice for the salvation
of all men, so through Me may all men appease Thee, by offering Me
to Thee as a peace-offering to Thine eternal glory, in memory of My
Passion, and to make good all their shortcomings." O how acceptable
to the Father must this desire of love have been! For what was this
thirst but a sweet and pleasant refreshment to the Father, and at
the same time the blessed renovation of mankind? Or what other
language does this burning throat speak to us, save that of Christ's
burning love, without measure and without limit, out of which He did
all His works? This truly is the most noble sacrifice of our
redemption, this is that peace-offering which will be offered even
to the last day, by all good men, to the Holy Ghost, to the highest
Father, in memory of the Son, to the eternal glory of the adorable
Trinity, and to the fruit of salvation for mankind. Here, certainly,
is the inexhaustible storehouse of our reconciliation, which never
fails, for it is greater than all the debts of the world. This is
that immeasurable love, which is higher than the heavens, for it has
repaired the ruin of the angels; deeper than hell, for it has freed
souls from hell; wider and broader than the earth, for it is without
end and incomprehensible by any created understanding. O how keen
and intense was this thirst of our Lord! For not only did He then
say once, "I thirst," but even now He says in our hearts
continually, "I thirst; woman, give me to drink." So great, so
mighty, is that thirst, that He asks drink not only from the
children of Israel, but from the Samaritans. To each one He
complaineth of His thirst. But for what dost Thou thirst, O good
Jesus? "My meat and drink," saith He, "is that men should do My
Father's will. Now this is the will of My Father, even your
sanctification and salvation, that you may sanctify your souls by
walking in My precepts, by doing works of repentance, by adorning
yourselves with all virtues, in order that, like a bride adorned for
her husband, you may be worthy to be present at My supper in My
Father's kingdom, and to sleep with Me as My elect bride, in the
chamber of My Father's heart." O how Christ longs to bring all men
thither! This is the meaning of His words: "Where I am there shall
also My servant be"; and again: "Father, I will that they may be one
even as We are one." O, how incomprehensible is this thirst of
Christ! What toil and labour He endured for thirty and three years,
for the sake of it! For this His very heart's blood was poured out.
See what our tender Lord says to His Father: "The zeal of Thine
house hath even eaten Me." Truly, He would have submitted to be
crucified a thousand times, rather than allow one soul to perish
through any fault of His. O how this inward thirst tormented Him,
when He thought that He had done all that He could, and even a
hundredfold more than He need have done, and yet that so few had
turned to Him, and been won by Him. His whole body was now worn out;
all His blood was shed; nothing remained for Him to do; and
therefore He was constrained to confess, "It is finished"; and yet
by all His labours, afflictions, and sufferings, He had brought no
richer harvest to the Father than this. Truly, this was the most
bitter of all His sorrows, that after so hard a battle His victory
had not been more glorious, and that He returned a conqueror to His
Father with so few spoils. Therefore, all those who do not refresh
Him by performing His will, and doing all that is pleasing and
honourable to Him, and withstanding all that reason tells them to be
displeasing to Him, will one day hear Him say, "I was thirsty, and
ye gave Me no drink. Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire."
Fourthly, there is yet another inward meaning of this word--namely,
that Christ spoke it out of the love which inwardly draws Him
towards all men, thus making known to us His ardent love, and
opening His own heart, as a delightful couch, on which we may feed
pleasantly, and inviting us to it, saying, "I thirst for you." For
as the liquid which we drink is sent down pleasantly through the
throat into the body, and so passes into the substance and nature of
our body, so Christ out of the ardent thirst of His love, takes
spiritual pleasure in drinking in all men into Himself, swallowing
them, as it were, and incorporating them into Himself, and bringing
them into the secret chamber of His loving heart. Therefore He says:
"I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto
Me"--all men, that is, who allow themselves to be drawn by Me, and
submit to Me as obedient instruments, suffering Me to do with them
according to My gracious will. But those who resist Him quench not
His thirst, but give Him a bitter draught instead, even the deeds of
their own self-will. These, when our Lord tasteth them, He
straightway rejects.
THE SIXTH WORD
WHEN Christ had tasted the draught of vinegar and gall, He spoke the
sixth word: "It is finished." Thereby He signified that by His
Passion had been fulfilled all the prophecies, types, mysteries,
scriptures, sacrifices, and promises, which had been predicted and
written about Him. This is that true Son of God, for whom the Father
of heaven made ready a supper in the kingdom of His eternal
blessedness; and He sent His servant--that is the human nature of
Christ, coming in the form of a servant, to call them that were
bidden to the wedding. For Christ, when He took human nature upon
Him, was not only a servant but a servant of servants, and served
all of us for thirty and three years with great toil and suffering.
Indeed, He spent His whole life in bidding all men to His supper. It
was for this that He preached, and wrought miracles, and travelled
from place to place, and proclaimed that the kingdom of heaven was
at hand, and that all should be prepared for it. But they would not
come. And when the Father of the household heard this, He said to
His Servant: "Compel them to come in, that My house may be filled."
Then that Servant thought within Himself: "How shall I be able
without violence to compel these men to come, that rebellion may be
avoided and yet that their privilege and power of free will may
remain unimpaired? For if I compel them to come by iron chains, and
blows, and whips, I shall have asses and not men." Then He said to
Himself: "I perceive that man is so constituted as to be prone to
love. Therefore I will show him such love as shall pass all his
understanding, love than which no other love can be greater. If man
will observe this, he will be so caught in its toils, that he will
not be able to escape its heat and flame, and will be constrained to
turn to God, and love Him in return. For, turn where he will, he
will always be met by the immeasurable benefits, the infinite
goodness, and the wonderful love of God; and at the same time he
will feel more and more compelled to return love for love, till he
will be no more able to resist it, and will be gently constrained to
follow." When this was done, Jesus Christ, this faithful and wise
Servant, said to His Lord and Father, "It is finished. I have
finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do. What more could I have
done, and have not done it? I have no member left that is not weary
and worn with toil and pain. My veins are dry, My blood is shed; My
marrow is spent, My throat is hoarse with crying. Such love have I
shown to man, that his heart cannot be human, cannot even be stony,
or the heart of a brute beast, but must be quite devilish and
desperate, if it be not moved by the thought of these things."
Moreover, this word of our Lord Jesus is a word of sorrow, not of
joy. He spoke it not as if He had now escaped from all His
suffering. No; when He said, "It is finished," He meant all that had
been ordained and decreed by the eternal Truth for Him to suffer.
Besides, all the sufferings which had been inflicted upon Him by
degrees and singly, He now endures together with immeasurable
anguish. Who can have such a heart of adamant as not to be moved by
such torment as this? How short were the words which our Lord Jesus
spoke on the Cross, yet how full of sacramental mysteries! Now were
fulfilled the words of Exodus: "And all things were finished which
belonged to the sacrifice of the Lord."
Moreover by this word our Lord declared the glorious victory of the
Passion, and how the old enemy, the jealous serpent, was overcome
and thrown down; for this was the cause for which He suffered. For
this He had taken upon Himself the garment of human nature, that He
might vanquish and confound the enemy, by the same weapons wherewith
the enemy boasted that he had conquered man. This was the chief
purpose of His Passion, and now He confesses that it is finished. O
how wonderful are the mysteries, and the victories, included in this
little but deep word: "It is finished!" All that the eternal Wisdom
had decreed, all that strict justice had demanded for each man, all
that love had asked for, all the promises made to the fathers, all
the mysteries, types, ceremonies in Scripture, all that was meet and
necessary for our redemption, all that was needed to wipe out our
debts, all that must repair our negligences, all that was glorious
and loving for the exhibition of this splendid love, all that we
could desire, for our spiritual instruction--in a word, all that was
good and fitting for the celebration of the glorious triumph of our
redemption, all is included in that one word, "It is finished."
What, then, remains for Him, but to finish and perfect His life in
this glorious conflict; and, because nothing remains for Him to do,
to commend His precious soul into His Father's hands, seeing that He
has fought the good fight, and finished His course in all holiness?
It is meet, then, that He should obtain the crown of glory which His
heavenly Father will give Him on the day of His exaltation.
Lastly, by this word Christ offered up all His toil, sorrow, and
affliction for all the elect, as the Apostle saith: "Who in the days
of His flesh offered up prayer and supplications with strong crying
and tears unto Him who was able to save Him from death, and was
heard in that He feared. For if the blood of bulls and of goats and
the ashes of a heifer, sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the
purifying of the flesh, how much more shall the blood of Christ, who
through the eternal Spirit offered Himself without spot to God,
purge our conscience from dead works to serve the living God?"
THE SEVENTH WORD
OUR Lord Jesus cried again with a loud voice, and said, "Father,
into Thy hands I commend My Spirit." O all ye who love our Lord
Jesus Christ, come, I beseech you, and let us watch, with all
devotion and pity, His passing away. Let us see what must have been
His sorrow and agony and torment, when His glorious soul was now at
last forced to pass out of His worthy and most sacred body, in which
for thirty and three years it had rested so sweetly, peacefully,
joyfully, and holily, even as two lovers on one bed. How hard was it
for them to be rent asunder, between whom no disagreement had ever
arisen, no strife, or quarrel, or treachery. How unspeakably
grievous was that Cross, when His sacred body was compelled to part
with so faithful a friend, so gentle an occupant, so loving a
teacher and master; and how great was the sorrow with which His
glorious and pure soul was torn away from so faithful a servant,
which had ever served obediently, never sparing any trouble, never
shrinking from cold or heat or hunger or thirst; always enduring
labour and sorrow in gentleness and patience. O how great was this
affliction! For, as the philosopher says: "Of all terrible things
death is the most terrible, on account of the natural and mutual
affection, which is very great, between soul and body." How much
greater must have been the anguish and sorrow, when the most holy
soul and body of Christ were sundered, between which there had
always been such wonderful harmony and love. Therefore, with inward
pity and anxious sorrow, let us meditate on this sad parting; for
the death of Christ is our life.
Let us meditate devoutly how His sacred body, the instrument of our
salvation, was steeped in anguish, when all His members, as if to
bid a last farewell, were bowing themselves down to die! Who can
look without remorse and sorrow and pity upon the most gracious face
of Christ, and behold how it is changed into the pallor and likeness
of death; how tears still flow from His dimmed eyes; how His sacred
head is bent; how all His members prove to us, by signs and motions,
the love which they can no longer show by deeds. Let us pity Him, I
pray you, for He is our own flesh and blood, and it is for our sins,
not His own, that He is shamefully slain. O ye who up till now have
passed by the Cross of Jesus with tepid or cold hearts, and whom all
these torments and tears, and His blood shed like water, have not
been able to soften; now at last let this loud voice, this terrible
cry, rend and pierce your hearts through and through. Let that voice
which shook the heaven and the earth and hell with fear, which rent
the rocks and laid open ancient graves, now soften your stony
hearts, and lay bare the old sepulchres of your conscience, full of
dead men's bones--that is to say, of wicked deeds, and call again
into life your departed spirits. For this is the voice which once
cried: "Adam, where art thou; and what hast thou done?" This is the
voice which brought Lazarus from Hades, saying, "Lazarus, come
forth: arise from the grave of sin, and let them free thee from thy
grave-clothes." Truly it was not so much the grievousness of His
sufferings, as the greatness of our sins, which made our Lord utter
this cry. He cried also, to show that He had the dominion over life
and death, over the living and the dead. For though he was quite
worn out, and destitute of strength, and though He had borne the
bitter pangs of death so long, beyond the power of man, yet He would
not allow Death to put forth its power against Him, until it pleased
Him.
With a loud voice He cried, that earthly men, who care only for the
things of earth, might quake with fear and trembling, and to cause
them to meditate and see how naked and helpless the Lord of lords
departed from this life. With a terrible voice He cried, to stir up
all those who live in wantonness, and who have grown old in their
defilement, and send forth a foul savour, like dead dogs, so that at
last these miserable men may rise from their lusts and pleasures and
sensual delights, and see how the Son of God, who was never strained
with any spot of defilement, went forth to His Father; and with what
toil and pain and anguish He departed from the light of day, and
what He had to suffer before He reached his Father's Kingdom. He
also cried with a loud voice, that He might inflame the lukewarm and
slothful to devotion and love.
Moreover He cried with a loud voice as a sign of the glorious
victory which He had gained, when after a single combat with His
strong and cruel enemy, and having descended into the arena--the
battlefield of this world--He had routed him on Mount Calvary and
stripped him bare of his spoils. This victory, this glorious
triumph, Christ proclaimed with a loud voice, and thus departing
from the battlefield triumphant and victorious, He departed to the
place of all delights, to the heart and breast of God, His Father,
commending to it, as to a safe refuge, both Himself and all His own,
with the words, "Father, into Thy hands I commend My Spirit."
We may learn from these words that the eternal Word, our Lord Jesus
Christ, had been let down like a fishing-hook or great net, by the
Father of heaven, into the great sea of this world, that He might
catch not fish but men. Hear how He says: "My word, that goeth forth
out of My mouth shall not return unto Me void, but shall execute
that which I please, and shall prosper in the thing whereto I send
it." And this net is drawn by the Father out of the salt sea, to the
peaceful shore of His fatherly heart, full of the elect, of works of
charity, of repentance, patience, humility, obedience, spiritual
exercises, merits and virtues. For Christ drew unto Himself all the
afflictions and good deeds of the good; just as St Paul says, "I
live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me." Even so, Christ lives in
all the good, and all who have been willing and obedient instruments
in the hands of Christ. In all such Christ lives and suffers and
works. For whatever good there is in all men, is all God's work.
Therefore Christ, feeling His Father drawing Him, gathered together
in Himself in a wonderful manner all the elect with all their works,
and commended them to His Father, saying, "My Father, these are
Thine; these are the spoils which I have won by My conquest, by the
sword of the Cross; these are the vessels which I have purchased
with My precious blood; these are the fruits of My labours. Keep in
Thine own name those whom Thou hast given Me. I pray not that Thou
shouldest take them out of the world, but that Thou shouldest keep
them from the evil." Thus did Christ commend Himself and all His own
into His Father's hands. Come therefore, O faithful and devout soul,
and contemplate with great earnestness the coming in and the going
out of thy Lord Jesus; follow Him with love and longing, even to the
chamber and bed of joy, which He has prepared for thee in thy
Father's heart. Happy would he be, who could now be dissolved with
Christ, and die with the thief, and hear from the lips of the Lord
that comfortable word, "This day shalt thou be with Me in paradise."
And though this is not granted to us, yet whatever we can here gain
by labours and watchings and fastings and prayers, let us commend it
all with Christ to the Father; let us pour it back again into the
fountain, whence it flowed forth for us; and let nothing be left in
us of empty self-satisfaction, no seeking after human praise or
honour or reward. But whatever our God hath been willing to do in
us, let us return it back into His own hands and say, "We are
nothing of ourselves. It is He who made us, and not we ourselves.
All good was made by Him, and without Him was not anything made.
When therefore He taketh with Him what He made Himself, we are
absolutely nothing."
Lastly, Christ commended His soul into His Father's hands, to show
us how the souls of good and holy men mount up after Him to the
bosom of the eternal Father, who must otherwise have gone down to
hell; for it is He who has opened to us the way of life, and His
sacred soul, by making the journey safe and free from danger, has
been our guide into the kingdom of heaven.
SUSO
SUSO AND HIS SPIRITUAL DAUGHTER
AFTER this, certain very high thoughts arose in the mind of the
servitor's spiritual daughter, concerning which she asked him
whether she might put questions to him. He replied, Yea verily:
since thou hast been led through the proper exercises, it is
permitted to thy spiritual intelligence to enquire about high
things. Ask then whatever thou wilt. She said: Tell me, father, what
is God, and how He is both One and Three? The servitor replied,
These be indeed high questions. As to the first, What is God, you
must know that all the Doctors who ever lived cannot explain it, for
He is above all sense and reason. Yet if a man is diligent, and does
not relax his efforts, he gains some knowledge of God, though very
far off. Yet in this knowledge of God consists our eternal life and
man's supreme happiness. In this way, in former times, certain
worthy philosophers searched for God, and especially that great
thinker Aristotle, who tried to discover the Author of Nature from
the order of nature and its course. He sought earnestly, and he was
convinced from the well-ordered course of nature that there must of
necessity be one Prince and Lord of the whole universe--He whom we
call God. About this God and Lord we know this much, that He is an
immortal Substance, eternal, without before or after, simple, bare,
unchangeable, an incorporeal and essential Spirit, whose substance
is life and energy, whose most penetrating intelligence knows all
things in and by itself, whose essence in itself is an abyss of
pleasures and joys, and who is to Himself, and to all who shall
enjoy Him in a future life, a supernatural, ineffable, and most
sweet happiness. The maiden, when she heard this, looked up, and
said: These things are sweet to tell and sweet to hear, for they
rouse the heart, and lift the spirit up far beyond itself.
Therefore, father, tell me more about these things. The servitor
said: The Divine Essence, about which we speak, is an intelligible
or intellectual Substance of such a kind, that it cannot be seen in
itself by mortal eyes; but it can be discerned in its effects, even
as we recognise a fine artist by his works. As the Apostle teaches
us, "The invisible things of God from the creation of the world are
clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made." For the
creatures are a kind of mirror, in which God shines. This knowledge
is called speculation, by which we contemplate the great Architect
of the world in His works. Come now, look upward and about thee,
through all the quarters of the universe, and see how wide and high
the beautiful heaven is, how swift its motion, and how marvellously
its Creator has adorned it with the seven planets, and with the
countless multitude of the twinkling stars. Consider what
fruitfulness, what riches, the sun bestows upon the earth, when in
summer it sheds abroad its rays unclouded! See how the leaves and
grass shoot up, and the flowers smile, and the woods and plains
resound with the sweet song of nightingales and other birds; how all
the little animals, after being imprisoned by grim winter, come
forth rejoicing, and pair; and how men and women, both old and
young, rejoice and are merry. O Almighty God, if Thou art so lovable
and so pleasant in Thy creatures, how happy and blessed, how full of
all joy and beauty, must Thou be in Thyself? But further, my
daughter, contemplate the elements themselves--Earth, Water, Air,
and Fire, with all the wonderful things which they contain in
infinite variety--men, beasts, birds, fishes, and sea-monsters. And
all of these give praise and honour to the unfathomable immensity
that is in Thee. Who is it, Lord, who preserves all these things,
who nourishes them? It is Thou who providest for all, each in his
own way, for great and small, rich and poor. Thou, O God, doest
this; Thou alone art God indeed! Behold, my daughter, thou hast now
found the God whom thou hast sought so long. Look up, then, with
shining eyes, with radiant face and exulting heart, behold Him and
embrace Him with the outstretched arms of thy soul and mind, and
give thanks to Him as the one and supreme Lord of all creatures. By
gazing on this mirror, there springs up speedily, in one of loving
and pious disposition, an inward jubilation of the heart; for by
this is meant a joy which no tongue can tell, though it pours with
might through heart and soul. Alas, I now feel within me, that I
must open for thee the closed mouth of my soul; and I am compelled,
for the glory of God, to tell thee certain secrets, which I never
yet told to any one. A certain Dominican, well known to me, at the
beginning of his course used to receive from God twice every day,
morning and evening, for ten years, an outpouring of grace like
this, which lasted about as long as it would take to say the "Vigils
of the Dead" twice over.[40] At these times he was so entirely
absorbed in God, the eternal Wisdom, that he would not speak of it.
Sometimes he would converse with God as with a friend, not with the
mouth, but mentally; at other times he would utter piteous sighs to
Him; at other times he would weep copiously, or smile silently. He
often seemed to himself to be flying in the air, and swimming
between time and eternity in the depth of the Divine wonders, which
no man can fathom. And his heart became so full from this, that he
would sometimes lay his hand upon it as it beat heavily, saying,
"Alas, my heart, what labours will befall thee to-day?" One day it
seemed to him that the heart of his heavenly Father was, in a
spiritual and indescribable manner, pressed tenderly, and with
nothing between, against his heart; and that the Father's
heart--that is, the eternal Wisdom, spoke inwardly to his heart
without forms.[41] Then he began to exclaim joyously in spiritual
jubilation: Behold, now, Thou whom I most fervently love, thus do I
lay bare my heart to Thee, and in simplicity and nakedness of all
created things I embrace Thy formless Godhead! O God, most excellent
of all friends! Earthly friends must needs endure to be distinct and
separate from those whom they love; but Thou, O fathomless sweetness
of all true love, meltest into the heart of Thy beloved, and pourest
Thyself fully into the essence of his soul, that nothing of Thee
remains outside, but Thou art joined and united most lovingly with
Thy beloved.
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