...a devout life is very sweet, very happy and very loveable.
The world, looking on, sees that devout persons
But the world sees nothing of that inward, heartfelt devotion which makes all these actions pleasant and easy. ... the martyrs have counted fire, sword, and rack but as perfumed flowers by reason of their devotion. And if devotion can sweeten such cruel torments, and even death itself, how much more will it give a charm to ordinary good deeds? We sweeten unripe fruit with sugar, and it is useful in correcting the crudity even of that which is good. So devotion is the real spiritual sweetness which
- fast,
- watch and pray,
- endure injury patiently,
- minister to the sick and poor,
- restrain their temper,
- check and subdue their passions,
- deny themselves in all sensual indulgence,
- and do many other things which in themselves are hard and difficult.
- takes away all bitterness from mortifications;
- and prevents consolations from disagreeing with the soul:
- it cures the poor of sadness, and the rich of presumption;
- it keeps the oppressed from feeling desolate, and the prosperous from insolence;
- it averts sadness from the lonely, and dissipation from social life;
- it is as warmth in winter and refreshing dew in summer;
- it knows how to abound and how to suffer want;
- how to profit alike by honour and contempt;
- it accepts gladness and sadness with an even mind,
- and fills men's hearts with a wondrous sweetness.
First point. I continue to be struck by Francis's emphasis on the virtues of detachment and even-tempered-ness. He tells us that the devout will reap rewards equally whether things are going on pleasantly as planned-for and hoped-for, or.... not.
This is one of those truths that we all know, right? It's a matter of being able to remember it in the moment, when the good and happy life is interrupted and changed. As for me, I have a terrible time switching gears. I hate changes of plans -- even happy changes disturb me. And this sluggishness, this undue attachment to my own expectations, this desire to own my own time, has corollaries. I dislike being interrupted at any task. And yet being a mother means I need to be flexible, need to be cheerfully interrupt-able, because whatever immediate need my children have, has to take precedence over whatever I merely wish to do.
Second point. I highlighted a phrase that caught my eye: Devotion "prevents consolations from disagreeing with the soul." This made me hoot with knowing laughter. I can't think when I've ever read any spiritual adviser who acknowledged that spiritual consolations might "disagree with" the soul. Most of the time, "consolations" are portrayed as nothing less than a font of joy and peace and general wonderful-ness.
We are cautioned not to expect a steady supply of consolations -- received assurances of truths in which we can take comfort, or gifts of emotional response that make prayer and charity easier. We are told that even the greatest saints experienced long periods of "dryness," i.e., the absence of consolations. And here is St. Francis de Sales letting us know that even "consolations" don't seem all they're cracked up to be sometimes! Having been on the receiving end of at least a few consolations that left me muttering, "Gee, thanks a lot," and knowing well that I could do better on the devotion end, I just loved this.
More later, I hope. I've actually read quite a bit farther than I've blogged, and probably won't blog on every chapter.
Every time I read you talking about being "cheerfully interruptible", I am grateful for the reminder.
Posted by: Jessica Snell | 13 July 2010 at 11:47 PM