Of Spiritual Retreat: Third Exercise.
Here it is, dear Philothea, that I desire you to follow my counsel with great fervour; for this is one of the greatest means that exist for advancing in the spiritual life.
This means consists in placing yourself as often as possible in God’s holy presence, by one of the four methods I have shown you. Look at what God is doing, and at what you are doing; you will see His eyes turned towards you, and fixed continually upon you with incomparable love: “O God!” you will then say, “why do I not always look upon Thee, even as Thou dost always look upon me? Why dost Thou think so much of me, my Lord! and why do I think so little of Thee? O my soul! where are we? Our true place is in God, and where do we find ourselves?”
As birds have nests in the trees, where they may retire when need arises; and as deer have their thickets and their strongholds, where they may shelter from the heat of summer; so too, Philothea, our hearts ought each day to choose some place, whether on Mount Calvary, or in the wounds of Our Lord, or in some other place near Him, where they may withdraw at every turn and make for themselves, as it were, a stronghold and a thicket in which they may rest from outward affairs and shelter themselves from temptations. Blessed shall the soul be that can thus say truly to Our Lord: “Thou art my house of refuge, my rampart against my enemies, my roof against the rain, and my shade against the heat.”
Here it is, dear Philothea, that I desire you to follow my counsel with great fervour; for this is one of the greatest means that exist for advancing in the spiritual life.
This means consists in placing yourself as often as possible in God’s holy presence, by one of the four methods I have shown you. Look at what God is doing, and at what you are doing; you will see His eyes turned towards you, and fixed continually upon you with incomparable love: “O God!” you will then say, “why do I not always look upon Thee, even as Thou dost always look upon me? Why dost Thou think so much of me, my Lord! and why do I think so little of Thee? O my soul! where are we? Our true place is in God, and where do we find ourselves?”
As birds have nests in the trees, where they may retire when need arises; and as deer have their thickets and their strongholds, where they may shelter from the heat of summer; so too, Philothea, our hearts ought each day to choose some place, whether on Mount Calvary, or in the wounds of Our Lord, or in some other place near Him, where they may withdraw at every turn and make for themselves, as it were, a stronghold and a thicket in which they may rest from outward affairs and shelter themselves from temptations. Blessed shall the soul be that can thus say truly to Our Lord: “Thou art my house of refuge, my rampart against my enemies, my roof against the rain, and my shade against the heat.”
Remember, then, Philothea, to make every day some little retreats into the solitude of your heart, while outwardly you are in the midst of conversations and affairs. This mental solitude can in no wise be hindered by those who surround you: for they are not around your heart, but only around your body; and so, however numerous they may be, your heart is no less alone in the presence of God alone. This was what King David practised amid all his occupations, and we see a thousand traces of it in his psalms; as when he says: _O Lord! I am ever with Thee: I see Thee ever before me. I have lifted up mine eyes unto Thee, O my God! who dwellest in Heaven. Mine eyes are ever turned towards God._
And indeed, conversations are not ordinarily so serious that one cannot from time to time withdraw one’s heart from them, to place it in this divine solitude.
When the father and mother of Saint Catherine of Siena had taken from her every opportunity to pray and meditate, whether for want of time or of place, Our Lord inspired her to make within herself a little spiritual oratory, where, withdrawing at leisure, she might give herself to the holy solitude of the heart, even amid the countless affairs that occupied her outwardly; and afterwards, when the world assailed her, she received no disturbance from it, because, she said, she shut herself up in her inner chamber, and there took comfort in the company of her divine Master. From that time on, she advised her companions above all things to make themselves a little cell in their hearts, and to shut themselves up therein with Jesus.
And indeed, conversations are not ordinarily so serious that one cannot from time to time withdraw one’s heart from them, to place it in this divine solitude.
When the father and mother of Saint Catherine of Siena had taken from her every opportunity to pray and meditate, whether for want of time or of place, Our Lord inspired her to make within herself a little spiritual oratory, where, withdrawing at leisure, she might give herself to the holy solitude of the heart, even amid the countless affairs that occupied her outwardly; and afterwards, when the world assailed her, she received no disturbance from it, because, she said, she shut herself up in her inner chamber, and there took comfort in the company of her divine Master. From that time on, she advised her companions above all things to make themselves a little cell in their hearts, and to shut themselves up therein with Jesus.
Withdraw, then, from time to time into thyself, Philothea; and there, apart from the world, commune heart to heart with God concerning the interests of thy soul, saying with David: _I watched, and was like a pelican of the wilderness. I was like an owl in the ruins, and like a sparrow alone upon the housetops._ In their literal sense, these words show us that this great king took some hours every day to meditate in silence upon spiritual things. But in their mystical sense, these same words reveal to us three excellent retreats, and, as it were, three hermitages, wherein we may imitate and follow Our Lord in His different solitudes. Upon Mount Calvary, He was like the pelican of the wilderness, which revives its little ones with its own blood; in the stable of Bethlehem, where He was born, He was like the owl in a ruin, weeping and lamenting over our sins; lastly, on the day of His Ascension, He was like the sparrow alone, withdrawing and flying up to Heaven, which is as the roof of the world. These three places may very well serve us as retreats, whatever the press of business may be. The Blessed Elzéar, Count of Ariano in Provence, having been absent for a long time, his wife, the pious and chaste Delphine, sent him a special courier to inquire after his health: “I am well,” this holy man replied, “and if you would see me, seek me in the wound in the side of our sweet Jesus: for there I dwell, and there you will find me; elsewhere you would seek me in vain.” He was a Christian knight, that man!