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Docility to the Holy Ghost, which we spoke of in the preceding
chapter, requires, as we said, interior silence, habitual
recollection, and the spirit of detachment in order to hear His
inspirations, which at first are similar to a secret instinct that
increasingly manifests its divine origin if we are faithful to it.
This docility also requires that the inspirations of the Holy Ghost be
discerned from those which might lead us astray, from those of two
other spirits or inspirations, which may at first appear good, but
which lead to death. The discerning of spirits is, consequently, a
subject we should consider.
By the discerning of spirits may be understood one of the gratiae
gratis datae, mentioned by St. Paul,(1) by which the saints occasionally
discern at once whether, for example, a person is speaking or acting through the spirit of true charity or only simulating this
virtue.
But by the discerning of spirits may also be meant a wise discretion
proceeding from infused prudence with the cooperation of acquired
prudence and the higher help of the gift of counsel and of the graces
of state granted to the spiritual director who is faithful to his
duties. It is with this second meaning that we shall discuss the discerning of
spirits.
This question was treated by St. Anthony the hermit, patriarch of monks;
(2) by St. Bernard in his thirty-third Sermon; by Cardinal Bona,(3) by St. Ignatius,(4) by Scaramelli,
(5) and many other writers
who draw their inspiration from those who preceded them.
By spirit is meant the tendency to judge, will, or act in one way or
another; thus we speak of the spirit of contradiction, dispute, and so
on. But in spirituality especially, we distinguish three spirits:
the spirit of God; the purely natural spirit, proceeding from our
fallen nature, which also has its impulses, fortitude, lyricism, its momentary enthusiasms, which may create illusion; lastly, the spirit
of the devil to whose interest it is to hide himself and disguise
himself as an angel of light. For this reason St. John says in his
First Epistle: "Dearly beloved, believe not every spirit; but try the
spirits if they be of God; because many false prophets are gone out
into the world." (6)
Generally one of three spirits is dominant in every soul: in the
perverse, the devil; in the tepid, the natural spirit; in those who
are beginning to give themselves seriously to the interior life, the
Spirit of God habitually dominates, but there are many interferences
of the natural spirit and of the spirit of evil. Consequently no one
should ever be judged by one or two isolated acts, but by his whole
life. Even in the perfect, God permits certain imperfections, at times
more apparent than real, to keep them in humility and to give them
frequent opportunity to practice the contrary virtues. There are
persons advanced in the ways of God, who are, as the result of an
illness (for example, a progressive infection of the blood), inclined
to exceptional irritability. They are like people badly dressed,
because their illness increases, as it were tenfold, the painful
impression produced by contradictions, and sometimes the latter are
incessant. There may be great merit in this struggle, and great
patience in seeming impatience.
It is, therefore, most important to discern clearly what spirit moves
us, what is God's action in us and what is our own, according to the
words of St. John in the prologue of his Gospel: "But as many as
received Him, He gave them power to be made the sons of God, to them
that believe in His name, who are born not of blood, nor of the will
of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God." (7) To be "born of
God," is our great title of nobility, and we may say of it more than
of any other: Noblesse oblige.
The great principle of the discerning of spirits was given to us
by our Lord Himself in the Gospel when He said: "Beware of
false prophets, who come to you in the clothing of sheep, but inwardly
they are ravening wolves. By their fruits you shall know them. Do men
gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good tree
bringeth forth good fruit, and the evil tree bringeth forth evil
fruit. A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can an evil
tree bring forth good fruit." (8)
Those, in fact, who are animated by an evil intention cannot long hide
it. It does not delay, says St. Thomas,(9) in manifesting itself in
different ways: first of all, in things that must be accomplished
instantly without time to deliberate and to conceal its intent; then
in tribulations, as we read in Ecclesiasticus: "There is a friend for
his own occasion, and he will not abide in the day of thy trouble."
(10)
Likewise, men show their character when they cannot obtain what they
wish or when they have already obtained it; thus when a man attains
power, he shows what he is.
The tree is known by its fruit: that is, if our fundamental will is
good, it yields good fruit. If we hear the word of God that we may put
it into practice, people are not long in seeing it; if, on the
contrary, we hear it and content ourselves with saying, "Lord, Lord,"
without doing the will of God, how can we expect good fruit? In the
light of this principle, "The tree is judged by its fruit," we can
judge what spirit moves us. We must see the results of its influence
and compare them with what the Gospel tells us about the principal
Christian virtues: humility and mortification or abnegation on the one
hand, and, on the other, the three theological virtues of faith, hope,
love of God and of souls in God.
THE SIGNS OF THE SPIRIT OF NATURE
In consequence of original sin, nature is the enemy of
mortification and humiliations; it seeks self while increasingly disregarding
in practice the value of the three theological virtues. In the life of
piety as elsewhere, nature pursues pleasure, and it falls into
spiritual gluttony, which is the seeking after self and, therefore,
the contrary of the spirit of faith and of love of God.
At the first difficulties or aridities, the spirit of nature stands
still, quits the interior life. Often, under the pretext of the apostolate;
it takes satisfaction in its natural activity, in which the soul
becomes increasingly exterior; it confounds charity with
philanthropy. Let contradiction, let trial arise, nature complains of
the cross, grows irritated, and becomes discouraged. Its first fervor
was only a passing enthusiasm; it is indifferent to the glory of God,
to His reign, and to the salvation of souls; it is the negation of the
zeal or ardor of charity. The spirit of nature is summed up in one
word: egoism.
After seeking and failing to find pleasure in the interior life, it
declares that one must prudently avoid all exaggeration in austerity,
prayer, all mysticism; and from this point of view, a person is
already a mystic who daily reads a chapter of The Imitation with
recollection. It declares that one must follow the common way, by
which it means the common way of tepidity or mediocrity, an unstable
mean between good and evil, but closer to evil than to good. It seeks
rather frequently to make this mediocrity pass for moderation, for
the happy mean of virtue. In reality, the happy medium is also a
summit above contrary vices, whereas mediocrity seeks to remain
halfway between this summit and the depths, the inconveniences of
which it would like to avoid without any true love of virtue.
The spirit of nature is depicted by St. Paul as follows: "The sensual
man perceiveth not these things that are of the Spirit of God. For it
is foolishness to him, and he cannot understand, because it is
spiritually examined." (11) The egoist judges everything from his
individual point of view and not from God's. Gradually the spirit of
faith, confidence, love of God and souls disappears in him; he relies
on himself, weakness itself. At times, however, the gravity of his own
ill enlightens him and reminds him of the Savior's words: "Without Me
you can do nothing."
THE SIGNS OF THE SPIRIT OF THE DEVIL
The devil first lifts us up by inspiring us with pride, subsequently
to cast us down into trouble, discouragement, and even despair. To
recognize his influence, we must consider it in relation to
mortification, humility, and the three theological virtues.
The devil does not necessarily, as nature does, disincline us to
mortification; on the contrary, he urges certain souls toward an
exaggerated, very visible, exterior mortification, especially in
centers where it is held in honor. Such a course of action keeps pride
alive and ruins health. But the devil does not incline a soul to the
interior mortification of the imagination, heart, self-will, and
personal judgment, although he sometimes simulates it in us by
inspiring us with scruples about trifles and great liberality on
dangerous or serious matters. He gives us a great opinion of
ourselves, leads us to prefer ourselves to others, to boast of
ourselves, unwittingly to pray like the Pharisee.
This spiritual pride is often accompanied by a false humility which
makes us speak ill of ourselves on certain points in order to hinder
others from speaking ill about us on another point, and in order to
give the impression that we are humble. Or indeed it makes us confound
humility with timidity, which is rather the fear of rebuffs and
scorn.
Instead of nourishing faith by the consideration of the teaching of
the Gospel, the spirit of evil draws the attention of certain souls to
what is most extraordinary and marvelous, of a nature to make us
esteemed, or again to what is foreign to our vocation. He inspires a
missionary with the thought of becoming a Carthusian, a Carthusian
with that of going to evangelize the infidel. Or, on the contrary, he
leads others to minimize the supernatural, to modernize
faith by the reading, for example, of liberal, Protestant works.
His way of exciting hope is to give rise to presumption, to lead
us to wish to be saints immediately without traversing the indispensable stages and the way of abnegation. He even inspires us with a
certain impatience with ourselves and with vexation instead of
contrition.
Far from causing our charity to grow, he cultivates self-love in us
and, according to temperaments and circumstances, makes charity
deviate either in the direction of a humanitarian sentimentalism of
extreme indulgence, or toward liberalism under the guise of generosity, or, on the contrary, toward a bitter zeal, which chides
others indiscriminately instead of correcting itself. He shows us the
mote in our neighbor's eye, when there is a beam in our own.
Instead of giving peace, this spirit engenders dissensions, hatreds.
People no longer dare to talk to us; we would not put up with contradiction. An encumbering personalism can thus lead a man to see only
himself and unconsciously to place himself on a pedestal.
Should we commit a very evident sin, which we cannot conceal, we fall
into confusion, vexation, discouragement; and the devil, who veiled
the danger from us before the sin, now exaggerates the difficulties of
turning back to God and seeks to lead us to spiritual desolation. He
fashions souls to his own image; he rose through pride and he fell in
despair.
Great care must therefore be exercised if we have lively sensible
devotion and come forth from prayer with increased self-love,
preferring ourselves to others, failing in simplicity with our
superiors and director. The lack of humility and obedience is a
certain indication that it is not God who guides us.
THE SIGNS OF THE SPIRIT OF GOD
The signs of the spirit of God are contrary to those of the spirit of
nature and of the devil. The spirit of God inclines us to exterior
mortification, in which it differs from the spirit of nature, but to
an exterior mortification regulated by discretion and obedience, which
will not attract attention to us or ruin our health. Moreover, it
makes us understand that exterior mortification is of little value if
not accompanied by that of the heart, of self-will, and of personal
judgment; in this respect, the spirit of God differs from the spirit
of the devil.
The spirit of God inspires true humility, which forbids us to prefer
ourselves to others, does not fear scorn, is silent about divine
favors received, does not deny them if they exist, but refers all
their glory to God. It leads us to nourish our faith with what is most
simple and profound in the Gospel, while remaining faithful to tradition and fleeing novelties. It shows us our Lord in superiors, and
hereby develops our spirit of faith. It quickens hope and preserves us from presumption. It makes us ardently desire the living waters
of prayer, reminding us that we must reach them by degrees and by the
way of humility, renunciation, and the cross. It gives a holy indifference in regard to human success.
The spirit of God augments the fervor of charity, gives zeal for
the glory of God, forgetfulness of self. It leads us to think first of
God and to leave the care of our interests to Him. It stirs up the
love of our neighbor in us, showing therein the great sign of the love
of God. It hinders us from judging rashly, from taking scandal without
motive; it inspires meek and patient zeal which edifies by
prayer and example instead of irritating by untimely admonitions. The spirit of God gives patience in trial, love of the cross, and
love of enemies. It gives peace with ourselves and with others, and
even quite often interior joy. Then, if we should happen to fall, it
speaks to us of mercy. According to St. Paul, "The fruit of the Spirit
is charity, joy, peace, patience, benignity, goodness, longanimity,
mildness, faith, modesty, continency, chastity," (12) which are united
to obedience and humility.
If it is a question of one act in particular, this is a sign that God
is visiting our soul when no natural cause has brought the profound
consolation with which it suddenly feels itself filled. God alone
penetrates thus into the innermost depths of the soul. However, we
must distinguish carefully from this first moment of happiness those
which follow it, although the soul still feels the grace received, for
in the second moment it often happens that of ourselves we form
certain thoughts which are no longer inspired by God and into which
error may slip.
Rarely does the Holy Ghost make revelations; they are an
extraordinary grace that it would be presumptuous to desire, but
frequently the interior Guest gives His inspirations to fervent souls
make them taste certain words of the Gospel. Then, under the divine
inspiration, the faithful soul should go forward like the artist who
follows his genius and who, without thinking of the rules of art,
observes them in a superior and spontaneous manner. Then are
harmonized humility and zeal, fortitude and meekness, the simplicity
of the dove and the prudence of the serpent. Thus the Holy Spirit
leads faithful souls to the harbor of eternity.(13)
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