3 hours ago
Seventh Vision, Wherein She Beheld God in Three Persons, but She Beheld Him Darkly; and This Vision Did Inspire Her with Perfect and Holy Hope and Full Assurance
There was a time when my soul was exalted to behold God with so much clearness that never before had I beheld Him so distinctly. But love did I not see here so fully; rather did I lose that which I had before and was left without love. Afterwards I did see Him darkly, and this darkness was the greatest blessing that could be imagined, and no thought could conceive aught that would equal this.
Then was there given unto the soul an assured faith, a firm and certain hope, wherein I felt so sure of God that all fear left me. For by that blessing which came with the darkness I did collect my thoughts and was made so sure of God that I can never again doubt but that I do of a certainty possess Him. Thus is my hope now made certain, for now do I see so clearly that what I see can neither be told by the mouth nor imagined in the heart. And by that blessing (most certain, and including also that darkness) have I attained unto all my hope, and inasmuch as now I see clearly, I have all that I desired to have or to know.
Here, likewise, do I see all Good; and seeing it, the soul cannot think that it will depart from it or it from the Good, or that in future it must ever leave the Good. The soul delighteth unspeakably therein, yet it beholdeth naught which can be related by the tongue or imagined in the heart. It seeth nothing, yet seeth all things, because it beholdeth this Good darkly — and the more darkly and secretly the Good is seen, the more certain is it, and excellent above all things. Wherefore is all other good which can be seen or imagined doubtless less than this, because all the rest is darkness. And even when the soul seeth the divine power, wisdom, and will of God (which I have seen most marvellously at other times), it is all less than this most certain Good. Because this is the whole, and those other things are but part of the whole. Another difference is, that albeit those other things are unspeakable, yet they do bring great joy which is felt even in the body.
But seen thus darkly, the Good bringeth no smile upon the lips, no fervour or devotion or love into the heart, for the body doth not tremble or become moved or distressed as it doth at other times. And the cause thereof is, that the soul seeth, and not the body, which reposeth and sleepeth, and the tongue is made dumb and cannot speak. All the many and unspeakable kindnesses which God hath shown unto me, all the sweet words and all other divine sayings and doings are so much less than this which I have seen clearly through the darkness, that I do put no hope in them. Yea, even if it were possible that all these were not true, it would in no wise lessen the hope which I have in this and all other good.
Unto this most high power of beholding God ineffably through such great darkness was my spirit uplifted but three times only and no more; and although I beheld Him countless times, and always darkly, yet never in such an high manner and through such great darkness.
And when upon the one hand my body is wasted by infirmity, when the world with its thorns and bitterness chaseth me forth, and demons do likewise afflict me with much vexation, and do continually persecute me and molest me (because they have power over me and because God hath given me soul and body into their hands, so that I do almost seem to behold them falling bodily upon me), upon the other hand God doth draw me unto Himself with that Good which I beheld through the darkness, in which darkness I did doubtless behold the Holy Trinity. And to me it seemeth that I am fixed in the midst of It and that It draweth me unto Itself more than anything else the which I ever beheld, or any blessing I ever yet received, so there is nothing which can be compared unto It.
All that I say of this seemeth unto me to be nothing, I do even feel as though I offended in speaking of it, for so greatly doth that Good exceed all my words that my speech doth appear to blaspheme against it.
When I behold and am in that Good, I remember nothing of the humanity of Christ, of God inasmuch as He was man, nor of aught else that had shape or form; and albeit I seem to see nothing, yet do I see all things.
When, however, I am separated from that aforesaid Good then is it given unto me to see Christ, who draweth me with such gentleness that sometimes He saith, "Thou art I, and I am thee." I see those eyes, and that face so gracious and so pleasing, which embraceth and draweth my soul unto itself with infinite assurance. And that which proceedeth from those eyes and that face is nothing else save that Good of which I spake before and which I beheld darkly, which proceedeth and issueth forth from within. And it is that Good wherein I delight so greatly that I can in no wise speak of it.
Being thus one with Christ the soul liveth. And in this God do I live more than in the darkness, and although He who dwelleth in darkness draweth me beyond all comparison more strongly, yet do I live so constantly in Christ that, inasmuch as I have been once and for all granted assurance of God, nothing can ever come betwixt me and Him.
From that time forth there hath never been day or night wherein I have not constantly rejoiced in the humanity of Christ, wherefore do I long to sing and to praise God, saying:
"Thee do I praise, oh God my delight, for upon Thy Cross have I made my bed, and instead of a pillow have I found poverty, instead of repose have I found suffering and contempt, for upon this bed was He born, He lived, and laid Him down to die."
These companions, poverty, suffering, and contempt, were so beloved of God the Father that He gave them unto His Son, and the Son desired ever to lie upon this bed. And on this do I always love Him and do agree with the Father. And upon this bed have I laid me down to rest, for it is my bed whereon I hope to die, by which I hope to be saved. But the joy which I have of those hands and feet cannot be described, and when I see Him I do desire never to depart from Him, but draw nearer unto Him, wherefore is my life but as death, and the more I do remember Him, the less can I speak, for then my tongue is tied. When I leave Him the wickedness which I find compelleth me to desire Him yet more, and because of this my desire and the weariness of waiting am I plunged into mortal pain, but in this vision is my soul uplifted and consoled by the most sweet God, to whom be honour and glory for ever and ever.
(Note: in the ninth paragraph, the scanned text read "Thou art I, and I am them" — this has been corrected to "I am thee," since "them" has no plausible antecedent in context and the reciprocal phrasing "Thou art I, and I am thee" matches the mystical idiom used elsewhere in this chapter; it appears to be an OCR misreading rather than an intentional variant.)
There was a time when my soul was exalted to behold God with so much clearness that never before had I beheld Him so distinctly. But love did I not see here so fully; rather did I lose that which I had before and was left without love. Afterwards I did see Him darkly, and this darkness was the greatest blessing that could be imagined, and no thought could conceive aught that would equal this.
Then was there given unto the soul an assured faith, a firm and certain hope, wherein I felt so sure of God that all fear left me. For by that blessing which came with the darkness I did collect my thoughts and was made so sure of God that I can never again doubt but that I do of a certainty possess Him. Thus is my hope now made certain, for now do I see so clearly that what I see can neither be told by the mouth nor imagined in the heart. And by that blessing (most certain, and including also that darkness) have I attained unto all my hope, and inasmuch as now I see clearly, I have all that I desired to have or to know.
Here, likewise, do I see all Good; and seeing it, the soul cannot think that it will depart from it or it from the Good, or that in future it must ever leave the Good. The soul delighteth unspeakably therein, yet it beholdeth naught which can be related by the tongue or imagined in the heart. It seeth nothing, yet seeth all things, because it beholdeth this Good darkly — and the more darkly and secretly the Good is seen, the more certain is it, and excellent above all things. Wherefore is all other good which can be seen or imagined doubtless less than this, because all the rest is darkness. And even when the soul seeth the divine power, wisdom, and will of God (which I have seen most marvellously at other times), it is all less than this most certain Good. Because this is the whole, and those other things are but part of the whole. Another difference is, that albeit those other things are unspeakable, yet they do bring great joy which is felt even in the body.
But seen thus darkly, the Good bringeth no smile upon the lips, no fervour or devotion or love into the heart, for the body doth not tremble or become moved or distressed as it doth at other times. And the cause thereof is, that the soul seeth, and not the body, which reposeth and sleepeth, and the tongue is made dumb and cannot speak. All the many and unspeakable kindnesses which God hath shown unto me, all the sweet words and all other divine sayings and doings are so much less than this which I have seen clearly through the darkness, that I do put no hope in them. Yea, even if it were possible that all these were not true, it would in no wise lessen the hope which I have in this and all other good.
Unto this most high power of beholding God ineffably through such great darkness was my spirit uplifted but three times only and no more; and although I beheld Him countless times, and always darkly, yet never in such an high manner and through such great darkness.
And when upon the one hand my body is wasted by infirmity, when the world with its thorns and bitterness chaseth me forth, and demons do likewise afflict me with much vexation, and do continually persecute me and molest me (because they have power over me and because God hath given me soul and body into their hands, so that I do almost seem to behold them falling bodily upon me), upon the other hand God doth draw me unto Himself with that Good which I beheld through the darkness, in which darkness I did doubtless behold the Holy Trinity. And to me it seemeth that I am fixed in the midst of It and that It draweth me unto Itself more than anything else the which I ever beheld, or any blessing I ever yet received, so there is nothing which can be compared unto It.
All that I say of this seemeth unto me to be nothing, I do even feel as though I offended in speaking of it, for so greatly doth that Good exceed all my words that my speech doth appear to blaspheme against it.
When I behold and am in that Good, I remember nothing of the humanity of Christ, of God inasmuch as He was man, nor of aught else that had shape or form; and albeit I seem to see nothing, yet do I see all things.
When, however, I am separated from that aforesaid Good then is it given unto me to see Christ, who draweth me with such gentleness that sometimes He saith, "Thou art I, and I am thee." I see those eyes, and that face so gracious and so pleasing, which embraceth and draweth my soul unto itself with infinite assurance. And that which proceedeth from those eyes and that face is nothing else save that Good of which I spake before and which I beheld darkly, which proceedeth and issueth forth from within. And it is that Good wherein I delight so greatly that I can in no wise speak of it.
Being thus one with Christ the soul liveth. And in this God do I live more than in the darkness, and although He who dwelleth in darkness draweth me beyond all comparison more strongly, yet do I live so constantly in Christ that, inasmuch as I have been once and for all granted assurance of God, nothing can ever come betwixt me and Him.
From that time forth there hath never been day or night wherein I have not constantly rejoiced in the humanity of Christ, wherefore do I long to sing and to praise God, saying:
"Thee do I praise, oh God my delight, for upon Thy Cross have I made my bed, and instead of a pillow have I found poverty, instead of repose have I found suffering and contempt, for upon this bed was He born, He lived, and laid Him down to die."
These companions, poverty, suffering, and contempt, were so beloved of God the Father that He gave them unto His Son, and the Son desired ever to lie upon this bed. And on this do I always love Him and do agree with the Father. And upon this bed have I laid me down to rest, for it is my bed whereon I hope to die, by which I hope to be saved. But the joy which I have of those hands and feet cannot be described, and when I see Him I do desire never to depart from Him, but draw nearer unto Him, wherefore is my life but as death, and the more I do remember Him, the less can I speak, for then my tongue is tied. When I leave Him the wickedness which I find compelleth me to desire Him yet more, and because of this my desire and the weariness of waiting am I plunged into mortal pain, but in this vision is my soul uplifted and consoled by the most sweet God, to whom be honour and glory for ever and ever.
(Note: in the ninth paragraph, the scanned text read "Thou art I, and I am them" — this has been corrected to "I am thee," since "them" has no plausible antecedent in context and the reciprocal phrasing "Thou art I, and I am thee" matches the mystical idiom used elsewhere in this chapter; it appears to be an OCR misreading rather than an intentional variant.)
"So let us be confident, let us not be unprepared, let us not be outflanked, let us be wise, vigilant, fighting against those who are trying to tear the faith out of our souls and morality out of our hearts, so that we may remain Catholics, remain united to the Blessed Virgin Mary, remain united to the Roman Catholic Church, remain faithful children of the Church."- Abp. Lefebvre