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In Part One of this work, we discussed the principles or the sources
of the interior life, the organism of the virtues and the gifts, the
nature of Christian perfection, its elevation, and the general
obligation of every Christian and the special obligation of priests
and religious to tend to perfection. In Part Two we treated of the
purification of the soul in beginners, of sins to be avoided, of the predominant fault, of the active
purification of the senses and the spirit, especially of the active
purification of the memory, the understanding, the will, and finally
of I the mental prayer of beginners.
We shall now, logically, proceed to the consideration of the
illuminative way of proficients, which is the continuation of the
purgative way under another name. It is given a new name, just as one
and the same road is called, progressively, different names according
to the cities through which it passes: the railway from Turin to Rome
is called, first of all, the Turin-Genoa Railroad, then the
Genoa-Pisa, and lastly the Pisa-Rome Railroad.
Great variety may be found on the same road; one part crosses the
plain, another climbs more or less steep slopes; part of the road can
be covered in daylight, part at night, and that in fair or stormy
weather. The same is true from the spiritual point of view. Further
more, on a railroad connecting two cities, speed must not be
excessive, or stops eliminated, or the wait at stations too much
prolonged. Likewise on God's highway, progress would be compromised by
a desire to travel too fast, whereas too great a delay in one place
would put one behind schedule; in this sense, "Not to advance is to
retrogress." The illuminative way is, therefore, the continuation of
the purgative way, but in the former, progress should be more marked.
To discuss the illuminative way in a methodical manner, we shall
treat of it in the following order:
(I) the entrance to this way;
several writers have called it a second conversion and, more
precisely, speaking, the passive purification of the senses;
(2) the principal characteristics of the spiritual age of proficients;
(3) the
progress of the Christian moral virtues, especially of humility, a
fundamental virtue, and of meekness in its relations with charity;
(4)
the progress of the theological virtues, of the spirit of faith and
confidence in God, of conformity to the signified divine will, of
fraternal charity, the great sign of progress in the love of God;
(5)
the gifts of the Holy Ghost in proficients, their docility to the Holy
Ghost, their more continual recollection in the course of the day;
(6)
the progressive illumination of the soul by the Sacrifice of the Mass
and Communion; why each Communion should be substantially more fervent
than the preceding one; devotion to the Eucharistic Heart of Jesus and
to Mary Mediatrix, in this period of the interior life;
(7) the
contemplative prayer of proficients and its degrees; the error of the
quietists on this subject; the passage from acquired prayer to infused
prayer. Is infused prayer in the normal way of sanctity, or is it, on
the contrary, an extraordinary grace, like visions, revelations, the
stigmata? Is infused prayer ordinarily granted to generous, interior
souls, who persevere in prayer and docility to the Holy Ghost, and who
daily bear the cross with patience and love?
(8) the defects of proficients; the pride which mingles in their acts; the discernment of
spirits; retarded proficients; the necessity of a passive purification
of the spirit which, according to St. John of the Cross, marks the
entrance into the unitive way.
Why do we propose to follow this order? Because it is fitting to
consider the growth of the virtues and of the gifts before the
progress of their acts, in order to show more clearly to what already
elevated acts this growth of the virtues and of the gifts, which is a
trustworthy sign of progress, is ordained. We are, in fact, already
certain through faith and theology that the acquired virtues and the
infused virtues, as well as the seven gifts, should always grow in us
here on earth, particularly in the illuminative way or that of
proficients. In this stage there should even be an acceleration in
this progress, for the soul ought to advance more rapidly toward God
as it approaches Him more closely and is more drawn by Him, just as
the stone falls more rapidly as it draws near the earth which attracts
it.(1) The traveler toward eternity should advance more rapidly as he
approaches the end which captivates him more. We have already shown
these principles to be certain; there should, consequently, be a very
notable increase in the virtues and the gifts in the illuminative way
of proficients. Profound consideration of this fact will make us
understand better what the elevation of the acts of these virtues and
gifts should normally be in this period of the spiritual life.
Moreover, that we may proceed with order, it is fitting that we
follow an ascending course, considering first of all the increase of
the Christian moral virtues, next that of the theological virtues,
then that of the gifts which perfect the virtues, and finally the
graces of light, love, and strength which are given us daily by Mass
and Communion. If we follow this plan, we shall see more clearly that
the prayer of proficients is normally a contemplative prayer. If, on
the contrary, we discuss this prayer at the very beginning, we might
describe it as it actually is in those who appear to be proficients
without perhaps really being so, and not such as it should normally be
in this already advanced age of the spiritual life. These are the
reasons for the order we shall follow.
Before beginning our study, however, we shall here examine an
important preliminary question, that of the essential character of the
language of the great spiritual writers who have discussed these
matters, language having terms that are somewhat different from those
used by theologians. A comparison of these two terminologies or ways
of speaking is necessary here. THE LANGUAGE OF SPIRITUAL WRITERS COMPARED WITH THAT OF THEOLOGIANS It has often been remarked that great spiritual writers, especially
when they discuss mysticism properly so called, use terms that differ
notably from those used by theologians. For a clear grasp of the
meaning and import of each set of terms, a comparison of the two is
necessary. The language of the great Catholic mystics has its basis in Scripture,
in the Psalms, the Canticle of Canticles, the Gospel of St. John, and
the Epistles of St. Paul. It takes shape increasingly with St.
Augustine in his commentaries on the Psalms and on St. John; with
Dionysius; St. Gregory the Great in his commentary on Job; St.
Bernard; Hugh and Richard of St. Victor; St. Bonaventure; the author
of The Imitation; Tauler; Blessed Henry Suso; St. Teresa; St. John of
the Cross; and St. Francis de Sales. Their terminology, the expression of their mystical experience,
gradually passed into doctrinal, spiritual theology, which should
compare it with the scholastic terminology of theologians in order to
avoid certain errors or confusions into which Master Eckart
occasionally fell. THE QUESTION RAISED BY THE LANGUAGE OF THE MYSTICS At first glance, the vocabulary of great spiritual writers seems to a
number of exclusively scholastic theologians too metaphorical and also
exaggerated, either in what relates to the abnegation necessary for
perfection or in regard to the separation from the sensible and from
reasoning or discourse in contemplation. For this reason, certain
great mystics, such as Tauler and Ruysbroeck, seemed suspect; and,
for the same reason, after the death of St. John of the Cross, some
theologians felt they should correct his works and cover them over, as
it were, with scholastic whitewash in order the better to explain
their meaning and remove all exaggeration. Thus talent sometimes
wishes to correct genius, as if the eaglet wished to teach the eagle
to fly. It was then necessary to defend the mystics against their
enemies and their injudicious friends. With this purpose Louis Blosius
wrote a defense of Tauler, and Father Nicholas of Jesus
Mary composed his book, Elucidatio phrasium mysticorum operum Joannis
a Cruce.(2) An example of the difference between the language of spiritual writers
and that of theologians may be illustrated by the meaning they give to
the word "nature." The speculative meaning of this word is abstract
and has nothing unfavorable about it; its ascetical meaning is
concrete and recalls original sin. We read in The Imitation in regard
to the different movements of nature and grace: "Nature is crafty and draweth away many, . . . and always proposes self as her end. But
grace walketh in simplicity, turneth aside from all appearance of
evil, offereth no deceits, and doth all things purely for God, in whom
also it resteth as its last end. . . . Nature willingly receiveth honor and respect. But grace faithfully attributeth
honor and glory to God." (3) These words at first seem contrary to the
principles often formulated by St. Thomas: "Grace does not destroy
nature, but perfects it"; "Nature inclines us to love God, its Author,
more than ourselves; otherwise the natural inclination would be
perverse, and it would not be perfected, but destroyed, by charity."
(4) Considering the matter with greater attention, we see that no
contradiction exists between the author of The Imitation and St.
Thomas, but they employ the word nature with two different meanings.
St. Thomas takes it in the philosophical and abstract sense, which
corresponds to the definition of man (a rational animal), to his
nature, the radical principle of his operations, such as it comes from
God, abstraction being made of every grace superior to it and also of
original sin and its results. Human nature thus conceived corresponds
to a divine idea. When spiritual writers, like the author of The
Imitation, contrast nature and grace, they take the word nature in its
ascetical and concrete meaning. They speak of nature such as it is
concretely since the sin of the first man; in other words, turned away
from God by original sin, or still wounded although regenerated by
baptism. They wish to recall the fact that, even in baptized persons,
the wounds, the results of original sin, are not completely healed,
but are in the process of healing. These wounds are four in number:
weakness, ignorance, malice, and concupiscence. They affect the
different faculties,(5) and often manifest themselves in a gross egoism,
at times only slightly conscious, which personal sins can greatly
augment. St. Thomas also insists on this point when he speaks of
inordinate self-love, from which spring pride, the concupiscence of
the flesh, that of the eyes; (6) and then when he speaks of the seven
capital sins,(7) from which come other sins that are still more serious.
Careful thought on the matter shows that here there is not a
contradiction in doctrine between speculative theologians and
spiritual writers, but a difference of terminology which the context explains.
One is more abstract, the other more concrete, for it aims at the
application of principles for the conduct of life in conditions in
which man actually finds himself since original sin. For a clearer understanding of this difference, we shall speak of the
theological bases of the terminology of spiritual writers, of the
principal terms of their language, and we shall compare the expressive
value of their language with the value of that of theologians.
THE THEOLOGICAL BASES OF THE TERMINOLOGY OF SPIRITUAL WRITERS Each science or discipline has its special terms, the meaning of which
cannot be clearly understood by those who do not know the subject. If
mathematics, physics, and physiology have their particular set of
terms, why should mysticism not have its terminology?
Terms express ideas, as ideas express the nature of things, and the
idea which at first was confused subsequently becomes distinct.
Scientific concepts are thus more distinct than the notions of common
sense, and sometimes new names are needed to express them; otherwise
it would be necessary to have recourse to circumlocutions or
excessively lengthy paraphrases. Theology furnishes the basis of the terminology of spiritual writers
when it teaches that, to speak of God and our supernatural life, we
have two classes of terms, one set of which has a literal meaning, and
the other a metaphorical meaning. Thus we say, using the literal
meaning: "God is good and wise; He is goodness itself, wisdom itself."
These are, in fact, perfections which imply no imperfection, and they
are found analogically in God and in creatures according to their
literal meaning. On the contrary, it is only metaphorically that we
speak of the wrath of God; wrath is, in fact, a passion, a movement of
the sensible appetite, which cannot, properly speaking, be found in
God, who is pure spirit; but the expression "wrath of God" is a
metaphor to denominate His justice. On this subject we must make the following
observations: among the
analogical terms which denominate God literally, negative terms, like
"immaterial" and "immobile," express Him more exactly than positive
terms, inasmuch as we know rather what God is not than what He is.(8) We
know very well that in Him there is neither matter, movement,
progress, nor limit; whereas we cannot know positively the essential
mode according to which the divine perfections are in God and are
identified in the eminence of the Deity, in which they exist formally
and eminently. We know this essential mode of he divine perfections in
a negative and relative manner, saying: it is an uncreated,
incomprehensible, supreme mode. But in itself it remains hidden, like
the Deity, which is manifest only to the blessed who see it
immediately. Consequently, when the mystics speak of God, they use many negative
terms, such as "incomprehensible," "ineffable," "incommunicable." They
say that negative contemplation, which expresses itself in this
manner, is superior to affirmative contemplation. In fact, negative
contemplation attains in its way what is most lofty: the eminence of
the Deity, or the inner life of God, which cannot be shared by nature,
but only by sanctifying grace, which is a participation in the divine
nature. Moreover, among the positive names that are properly applied to God,
the least definite and the more absolute and common denominate Him
better than the others, says St. Thomas.(9) Thus the name, "He who is,"
is more properly applied to God than the others, for by its
indetermination it better expresses the infinite ocean of the
spiritual substance of God. On the contrary, more definite names, such
as "intelligent," "free," fall short of this infinite mode. Therefore
the mystics say that superior contemplation, which proceeds from faith
illumined by the gifts, is confused, indistinct, ineffable; they place
it above distinct contemplation which would come from a special
revelation. Metaphorical terms are necessary, says St. Thomas,(10) where there are
no suitable terms, especially to express the particular relations of
God with interior souls. Thus the mystics speak metaphorically of
spiritual espousals and of spiritual marriage in order to designate
as it were a transforming union of the soul with God. Likewise by
metaphor they speak of the depth of the soul to designate the depth of
the intellect and the will, where these faculties spring from the very
substance of the soul. These metaphors are explained by the fact that
we know spiritual things only in the mirror of sensible things, and
that it is often difficult to find fitting terms to express them.
THE PRINCIPAL TERMS OF THE LANGUAGE OF SPIRITUAL WRITERS The ordinary terms of Scripture and those of theology would suffice
for mysticism; but to avoid excessively long circumlocutions,
spiritual writers have had recourse to special terms, or they have
given a more particular meaning to expressions already in use. Thus
several terms have become essentially mystical, to such an extent that
if one took them in their scholastic meaning, they would no longer be
true. All spiritual writers speak, for example, of the nothingness of
the creature and say: the creature is nothing. A theologian, to render
this proposition acceptable to his point of view, would add this
precision: the creature by itself is nothing. Master Eckart's error
consisted in affirming in the scholastic meaning of the word what is
true only in a mystical sense. Consequently several of his
propositions were condemned, among them the following: "All creatures
are pure nothingness; I do not say that they are little, or something,
but that they are pure nothingness." (11) If this were true, God would
have created nothing outside of Himself, or rather the being of
creatures would not be distinct from that of God. Likewise the mystics have often called infused contemplation simply
"contemplation," when, as a matter of fact, they mean infused
contemplation. Thus a special terminology has gradually grown up. Its
special character comes from the fact that the secrets of the inner
life of God and of the union of the soul with Him are ineffable, or
from the fact that the terms of human language have no proportion with
the sublimity of divine things. To remedy this lack of proportion,
spiritual writers have found three categories of terms which are
essentially mystical. They may be classed as hyperbolical,
antithetical or contrary, and symbolical terms. Hyperbolical terms seek to express the infinite elevation of God, as
for example, "the superessence or the supergoodness of God,"
(12) or
again the inferiority of the creature in relation to God, as "the
nothingness of the creature." Antithetical terms express something lofty by a sort of contrary
effect which they produce on us. Thus the terms "dark night" and
"great darkness" express "the inaccessible light in which God dwells,"
a light that dazzles us and affects us like a superior and transluminous obscurity, which is the direct opposite of the inferior
obscurity which comes from matter, error, or evil. Likewise, by irony,
the word of God is called foolishness, since it produces this
effect on senseless people. With this meaning St. Paul writes: "For
seeing that in the wisdom of God the world, by wisdom, knew not God,
it pleased God, by the foolishness of our preaching, to save them that
believe. . . . For the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the
weakness of God is stronger than men." (13) Symbolical terms are metaphors such as: the Spouse of souls (to
designate God), the spiritual marriage, the depth of the soul, the
spiritual senses, the sleep of the faculties, the wound of love,
liquefaction and spiritual fusion. It should be pointed out that certain mystics, such as Dionysius, have
a preference for hyperbolical terms (for example, superessence,
supergoodness); others, like St. John of the Cross, for antithetical
terms (the dark night); others, as St. Teresa, for symbolical terms
(spiritual espousals and marriage). In these terms we have the principle that enables us to reconcile the
degrees of prayer described by St. Teresa and those described by St.
John of the Cross; the difference is to be found more in the terms
than in the spiritual states indicated. Thus under the title of the
dark night of the senses, St. John of the Cross speaks of the prayer
of arid quiet, which precedes consoled quiet of which St. Teresa
speaks in the fourth mansion. With regard to the dark night of the
spirit St. John discusses graces of which St. Teresa treats in the
sixth mansion in connection with the spiritual espousals, which, like
the night of the spirit, proximately prepare the soul for the perfect
transforming union, also called the spiritual marriage. The terminology preferred by St. John of the Cross contributes to
giving him a more austere tone than that of St. Teresa; but when he
speaks of the summit of the interior life in The Living Flame of Love,
he does so in terms that show a plenitude of most striking spiritual
joy. The meaning of mystical terms is well comprehended, with respect to
what is at one and the same time disproportionate and suitable, only
by those who have experience in these matters, and they observe a
fitting sobriety in this regard. Others have, at times, ridiculously
abused these terms, even to speaking of superseraphic superelevation,
of "confricatio deifica," of the abyss of cordial exinanition, and so
on, and using other terms which remind one of vain sentimentality and
sometimes of mystical sensualism MYSTICAL HYPERBOLE
In a study of the hyperbolical terms used by the great mystics, it
should be pointed out that they did not use these terms with the
meaning given them by agnostics. For example, when the mystics
say, as Dionysius does, that God in His Deity or His inner life is
above being, unity, the true, the good, intelligence, and love, they
do not mean that God is unknowable, but that His Deity or His intimate
life contains in an eminent manner the divine perfections according to
an ineffable, superior mode, which permits these perfections to be
mutually identified without destroying each other. The mystics mean that the Deity, which can be participated in only
supernaturally by sanctifying grace, is superior to the absolute
perfections that it contains formally and eminently. These
perfections, such as being, life, intelligence, can be shared in
naturally
and are, in fact, participated in by stones, plants, and the human soul. The Deity thus appears as the inaccessible light superior to
every name. Likewise when the mystics speak hyperbolically of the nothingness of
the creature, they mean only that the creature of itself is nothing,
and that, although it actually exists through the creative act, it is,
in comparison with God, lower and poorer than words can express. All
these excessively lengthy circumlocutions are summed up in the more
expressive term: the nothingness of the creature. This legitimate hyperbole is already found in Scripture, as St. Thomas
points out in reference to the expression of Isaias: "Therefore is the
wrath of God kindled against His people, and He hath stretched out His
hand upon them and struck them: and the mountains were troubled."
(14) In Scripture, says St. Thomas, hyperbole exceeds not the truth,
but the judgment of men, in this sense that God is greater than one
can believe, and the punishments that He announces to the wicked
transcend what one can imagine. In profane writings, hyperbole is a
rhetorical figure which augments excessively the measure of things in
order to produce a more vivid impression on the mind of the reader:
for example, to indicate a very tall man, the word giant is used. Thus
human poetry uses hyperbole because of the smallness of human things
which it wishes
to magnify, whereas the divine poetry of the prophets, of the
Psalmist, and that of the great mystics makes use of metaphor and
hyperbole because of the infinite elevation of divine things, which it
could not otherwise express.(15) Hence there is neither error nor formal
exaggeration in scriptural hyperbole, nor in that of the great
mystics. The exaggeration is only material, for example, when one
speaks of the nothingness of the creature, for thereby the author
wishes to convey something that is very true, namely, that in
comparison with God, the creature is more poor and deficient than can
be expressed; and by contrast God is far more perfect than words can
tell. Hyperbole of the same type is found in these words of Christ: "If thy
right eye scandalize thee, pluck it out and cast it from thee. . . .
If thy right hand scandalize thee, cut it off." (16) It is not a
question here of mutilation; Christ uses a vivid expression to point
out the gravity of the danger He is speaking of and the urgent
necessity of defending oneself against it. Likewise St. Paul, in
speaking of the
advantages of Judaism, says: "I count all things to be but loss for
the excellent knowledge of Jesus Christ, my Lord; for whom I have
suffered the loss of all things and count them but as dung, that I may
gain Christ." (17) Blessed Angela of Foligno is fond of mystical hyperbole and antithesis
when she speaks of the great darkness and of the inner life of God,
which is above the perfections of intelligence and love, which are
identified in it without disappearing. She writes: "I see nothing and
I see all; certitude is obtained in the darkness;" (18) that is, I see
nothing determinate, but I see all the divine perfections united,
fused in an ineffable manner in the eminence of the Deity. What she
says in this mystical outburst, Cajetan says in abstract form in the
loftiest parts of his commentary on St. Thomas' Treatise on the
Trinity.(19) St. John of the Cross likes to use mystical hyperbole also in explaining his
doctrine, for example, in The Ascent of Mount Carmel:
"All things in heaven and earth are nothing in comparison with God. 'I
beheld the earth,' saith He, 'and lo, it was void and a thing of
nothing, and the heavens, and there was no light in them' (Jer. 4:
23)' The earth, 'void and nothing,' signifies that the earth and all
it contains are nothing, and the heavens without light, that all the
lights of heaven, in comparison with God, are perfect darkness.
Thus all created things, with the affections bestowed upon them, are
nothing, because they are a hindrance, and the privation of our
transformation in God." (20) To judge by the engraving which serves as a frontispiece to
The Ascent
of Mount Carmel, the author seems to demand excessive abnegation. On
the narrow path of perfection, he wrote: "Nothing, nothing, nothing,
nothing"; but if he demands so much, it is because he wishes to lead
souls to great heights by the most direct route. Above, he wrote:
"Since I wish nothing through self-love, all is given to me, without
my going in search of it." He explains this statement in the following
manner in The Ascent: "He has greater joy and comfort in creatures if
he detaches himself from them; and he can have no joy in them if he
considers them as his own. He acquires also in this detachment from
creatures a clear comprehension of them, so as to understand perfectly
the truths that relate to them, both naturally and supernaturally. For
this reason his joy in them is widely different from his who is
attached to them, and far nobler. The former rejoices in their truth,
the latter in their deceptiveness; the former in their best, and the
latter in their worst, conditions; the former in their substantial
worth, and the latter in their seeming and accidental nature, through
his senses only. For sense cannot grasp or comprehend more than the
accidents, but the mind, purified from the clouds and species of the
accidents, penetrates to the interior truth of things, for that is its
proper object. . . . The negation and purgation of this joy leaves the
judgment clear as the sky when the mists are scattered. The former,
therefore, has joy in all things, but his joy is not dependent upon
them, neither does it arise from their being his own; and the latter,
in so far as
he regards them as his own, loses in general all joy whatever." (21)
This is indeed what St. Paul says: "Having nothing, and possessing
all things." (22) St. Francis of Assisi enjoyed the landscapes of Umbria
incomparably more than the proprietors of those lands, who were busy
making them materially fructify to the greatest possible extent. The mystics themselves, it is evident, explain the hyperbole and
antithesis to which they have recourse in order to draw us from our
somnolence and to try to make us glimpse the elevation of divine
things and the value of the one thing necessary. A comparison of their language with that of theologians will be
profitable that we may see how they clarify each other.
COMPARISON OF THE LANGUAGE OF SPIRITUAL WRITERS AND THAT OF
THEOLOGIANS Each of these two terminologies has its merits. For the theologian's
study, his more abstract and precise language, which is limited to
essential terms, is preferable. But to lead souls effectively to
generous abnegation and union with God, the terminology of the mystics
is more appropriate because it is more vivid, more alluring, and also
more brief, and, in a concrete manner, more comprehensive. These
qualities spring from the fact that it expresses not only abstract concepts, but concepts that have been lived, and an ardent
love of God; consequently it avoids many circumlocutions and
speculative distinctions which would arrest the impulse of the love of
God. It leads the soul to seek God Himself beyond the formulas of
faith and through them. It reminds us that, if the truth of our
judgments is in our mind, the good toward which the will tends is
outside our mind, in God Himself.(23) It leads also to the thought that
what is unknowable and ineffable in God is sovereignly good and can be
ardently loved without being really known. It is inspired by
the thought which St. Thomas formulates as follows: "(In this life)
the love of God is better than the knowledge of God," (24) for by
knowledge we in a way draw God to ourselves by imposing on
Him, so to speak, the limit of our ideas, whereas love draws us and
lifts us toward God. The distinction between these two terminologies appears, for example,
in a comparison of our Savior's words with a theological commentary on
them. In verse twenty-five, chapter twelve of St.
John's Gospel, Christ says briefly, vividly, and concretely: 'He that
loveth his life shall lose It; and he that hateth his life in this world,
keepeth it unto life eternal" That is: he who loves his life in an
inordinate manner, for example, by refusing to undergo martyrdom rather
than to deny his faith, will lose his soul; whereas he who in this
world has a holy hatred of his life, for example, by undergoing
martyrdom for the Gospel's sake, will save his soul for eternal life. But if we attempt a theological explanation of these highly vivid
words of Christ, we will construe them in the following abstract
manner: he who loves his life with a love contrary to charity will
lose it. He will not lose it, however, because he loves his life with
a natural love, which is distinct from charity without being contrary
to it; and with even greater reason, if he loves it with a love which
is included in charity itself. It is St. Thomas (25) who thus
distinguishes these three very different ways of loving one's life:
the first, contrary to charity; the second, distinct from charity; the
third, included in charity, when we wish the life of grace and that of
heaven in order to glorify God. These distinctions are indispensable
to the theologian; they are those of the speculative intellect which
analyzes, whereas Christ's words lead immediately to love and to the
generosity of love. Likewise, the mystics speak briefly of the nothingness of the creature
in order to express what theologians would state in the five following
propositions: (I) the creature of itself is nothing, for it was
created ex nihilo; (2) compared to God, the already existing
creature is nothing, for there is no more perfection after creation,
no more
being than before, although there are now more beings; (3) by its
essential defectibility the creature tends to nothingness and sin;
(4) sin is less than nothingness itself, for it is not only the
negation, but the privation of a good; it is a disorder and an offense
against God; (5) the creature is nothing in our affection if we love
it without subordinating it to God, for thus it turns us away from
Him. These five propositions, which are necessary for the abstract
study
of truth, are summed up in the vivid expression of spiritual writers:
the nothingness of the creature. This hyperbolical expression is not
false; it would be so only if the word "nothingness" were taken in its
literal meaning. Then it would signify that God created nothing
outside of Himself and, consequently, one could not speak at all of
creatures. All that we have said is clear, and does not greatly need
explanation. We may exemplify the distinction between the two terminologies by
comparing the theological treatise on charity with its multiple
questions; articles, objections, answers, and distinctions, with what
The Imitation says about the marvelous effects of divine love:
"Nothing is sweeter than love, nothing stronger, nothing higher,
nothing wider, nothing more pleasant, nothing fuller or better in
heaven or in earth: for love is born of God, and cannot rest but in
God, above all created things. The lover flieth, runneth, and rejoiceth;
he is free and cannot be restrained. . . . Love watcheth, and sleeping
slumbereth not. When weary it is not tired; when straightened is not
constrained; when frightened is not disturbed; but like a vivid flame
and a burning torch, it mounteth upwards and securely passeth through
all. . . . He that loveth must willingly embrace all that is hard and
bitter for the sake of his Beloved, and never suffer himself to be
turned-away from Him by any contrary occurrences whatsoever." (26)
WHICH OF THESE TWO TERMINOLOGIES IS THE LOFTIER? Which of these two terminologies is the loftier depends on the
principle formulated by Aristotle and often recalled by St. Thomas:
"The terms of language are the signs of our ideas, and our ideas are
the similitude of realities." (27) The more elevated terminology is,
therefore, the one that expresses a loftier thought. Now infused
contemplation, in spite of its obscurity and lack of precision, is
loftier than theological speculation. Therefore the language of the
mystics, which expresses this contemplation, is more elevated than
that of theologians. Moreover, that great mystics may acquaint us with
their intimate experiences, it is fitting that they should be great
poets, like St. John of the Cross or Ruysbroeck; it is not necessary
for the theologian to be a poet. However, if the language of the mystics is in itself more lofty,
because it expresses a higher knowledge, it translates this knowledge
less exactly than the language of theologians expresses their thought.
But we see that this point of view is secondary, if we remember what
St. Thomas, following Aristotle, says in the Contra Gentes: "Although
we know very little about the loftiest things, the little that we do
know about them is more loved and desired than the most exact
knowledge that can be had of inferior things." (28) Thus a probable or
congruous argument on the mystery of the Trinity is, by reason of the
dignity of its object, worth more than all the geometric
demonstrations of Euclid.(29) What we have just said is confirmed by the fact that Christ's manner
of speaking in Scripture is most lofty; now, the language of spiritual
writers more closely resembles it than does scholastic terminology.
For example, without feeling that they need to explain them, spiritual
writers repeat Christ's words: "If thou didst know the gift of God, .
. . thou perhaps wouldst have asked of Him, and He would have given
thee living water. . . springing up into life everlasting." (30) "If any
man thirst, let him come to Me, and drink. . . . Out of his belly
shall flow rivers of living water." (31)
Theologians, on the other hand, would offer the following explanation
of these words: sanctifying grace, metaphorically expressed by the
living water, is an infused habit, received in the essence of the
soul, from which spring in our faculties the infused virtues and the
gifts of the Holy Ghost, all ordered to eternal life. This theological
commentary is in relation to the words of our Savior what the polygon
inscribed within a circumference is in relation to it. The commentary
shows the multiple wealth of the divine utterance, but in its
simplicity this saying is superior to the commentary. Consequently these two terminologies clarify each other, like the
doctrine of St. Thomas and that of St. John of the Cross, like
acquired wisdom, according to the perfect use of reason enlightened by
faith, and infused wisdom or the gift of wisdom.(32) The terminology of the Gospel, such as it is kept by spiritual
writers, preserves the spirit of faith and love of God, that is, the
very spirit of the theological doctrine relative to the majesty of God
and the inferiority of the creature. From this point of view, an
antimystical scholastic theologian would be a bad theologian. On the other hand, scholastic terminology is necessary, if not for the
individual interior life of the faithful, at least for the doctrinal
exposition of revealed truth in opposition to the inexact statements
that disfigure it. Without the suitability and precision of
theological terms, it is easy to fall into these errors; for example,
one exaggerates the congruous reasons for the mysteries of faith and
proposes them as if they were demonstrative, or indeed one exaggerates
the natural desire to see God to such an extent as to make of it,
with Baius, an efficacious natural desire, with the result that grace
would not be a gratuitous gift, but a favor due to our nature. For
this reason the great mystics, like St. Teresa and St. John of the
Cross, highly esteemed great theologians, whereas false mystics, like
Molinos, gave them no importance whatever. Therefore the priest who directs souls should know these two
terminologies and be able to explain the one by the other. No one can
know the true meaning of the language of spiritual writers if he is
unable to explain it theologically; and, on the other hand, no one can
know the sublimity of theology if he is ignorant of its relations to
mysticism.
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