That's right: Consolations can bring trouble along with them, and so they need to be troubleshooted (troubleshot?).
This isn't the first place in the book that Francis has acknowledged this. One of the fruits of devotion, he says in part 1, is that it "prevents consolations from disagreeing with the soul." Hurray for Francis for bringing this up -- who's going to admit that our first reaction on receiving great grace is sometimes revulsion and fear? (Flannery O'Connor knew all about this.) And then there's the sense of being overwhelmed by sweetness, too... great consolations may be too much for us to swallow all at once.
This chapter is longer than most. You know how, all along, I've been adding paragraph breaks and enumerating lists and such, and telling you I'm doing it to improve blogginess? Well, at least in the edition of Introduction to the Devout Life that I'm using (Everyman's Library, translated by Father Michael Day), this one's already enumerated. I mean, it's all (1) (2) (i) (ii)... almost like a PowerPoint slide.
Preamble: Our circumstances and emotions change all the time, so we have to keep our superior will fixed on God.
I. Devotion does not consist in our feelings, including spiritual consolations.
II. But our "devout" feelings and spiritual consolations are useful to us, and worth much more than worldly pleasures.
III. Q. How can we tell the difference between spiritual consolations and useless pleasures? A. By the fruit they yield.
IV. How to receive consolations:
(i) Humble ourselves and be aware that our consolations are not evidence of our goodness
(ii) Realize that God probably gives us consolations because we're so darn weak that we need them
(iii) Be thankful to God for providing them
(iv) Use them as God intends
(v) Detach ourselves from them by protesting to God that we want Him, not His consolations
(vi) Tell your confessor if you get a lot of consolation so he can help you deal with the abundance.
Reading this chapter reminds me that, as consolations have hazards, spiritual dryness has its purpose. When we beg God for better "feelings" maybe we should consider that getting what we ask for would not be as wonderful as we make it out to be. It might be a shock, it might be scary, it might tempt us to pride...
St. Francis wants us to preserve our "equanimity." Crucial to note that he doesn't say to preserve a mood of peace or tranquillity in the face of external ups and downs; rather, swings of mood (from peace to affliction, from tranquillity to temptation and back) are to be expected, too, and it is something that can stand separate from our mood, more separate still from our external circumstances, which is to be fixed on God. This is our "compass," our "superior will." Francis takes the changeability of our perceptions to be part of human nature, maybe even a beautiful part:
God maintains the world in existence in a state of continual change: day passes into night, spring into summer... and no two days are ever exactly alike, some being cloudy, some rainy, some dry, some windy, a variety which makes the world all the more beautiful. The same law of change applies to man...for his state is ever changing...sometimes lifted up by hope, sometimes depressed by fear, swept one way by consolation, another by affliction; no day, no hour, exactly the same.
It almost sounds as if Francis wants us to admire the swings between hope and fear, consolation and affliction, because it makes life interesting and beautiful, even as we somehow stand apart from it and maintain a steady course (of the will) toward God.
An inviolable resolution to tend always to God and his love will serve to preserve our equanimity in the midst of all the changing circumstances of our lives.
On devotion not being identical with "feelings:"
So some, when they consider the goodness of God and the passion of our Lord, feel great tenderness of heart... in spite of all this apparent devotion they would not restore a penny of their ill-gotten goods, renounce any of their evil inclinations or put themselves to the least inconvenience in the service of the Saviour...[the devil] encourages them to make much of these consolations and take such satisfaction in them that they no longer seek true devotion, which is to do constantly, resolutely, promptly, and energetically whatever we know to be pleasing to God.
A little voice is suggesting to me that perhaps true devotion is not to blog about devotion right now, but instead to go downstairs and help clean up the dinner...
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