Ch. VIII: We should courageously labor at our advancement … draw spiritual benefit from our faults

TRUE patience with one's spiritual frailties is neither cowardly compromise nor culpable laziness. It rather presupposes two very virtuous conditions. The first is the upright, though in the beginning weak, will to fulfil all obligatory Christian duties, and for this we always have sufficient grace. The second is the strenuous, persevering striving after amendment, so that we are always endeavoring, even in less important matters, to diminish our faults and to resist our evil inclinations. In a word, patience with self presupposes the sincere desire of perfection; for we speak here to souls of good-will, but who are not yet perfect. What way must such souls adopt, or what have they to do in order to work successfully at their advancement in perfection? This we shall consider briefly in the present chapter. Here self-love leads souls upon a most dangerous way, which has very appropriately been termed spiritual pride. Spiritual pride shows itself particularly under two forms. Either one wishes to attain to a higher degree of perfection than God has destined for him, and for which the graces allotted him are insufficient; or he would suddenly, so to say, spring with one bound to the heights of holiness. Let us now view these two forms of spiritual pride separately.

In speaking of the first, let us remember what we have said of the true imitation of the saints. May we never belong to the number of those whom St. Francis de Sales reproaches with busying themselves to become "good angels," whilst neglecting to become "good men"! Let us beware of such deceit. It is so much the more dangerous as it conceals itself under the mask of zeal for God's glory, whilst in reality it is only self-glory that is sought. It is not for us to determine our own way. Our whole perfection consists in this, that we submit to God's will over us; and our highest wisdom that, step by step, we follow the guidance of His providence. It is not our affair to determine in what manner we shall serve God; accordingly, we must not desire to enter upon another state than that to which He has called us. In the various vocations, there is for each individual soul a particular way that is to lead her to perfection. To enter upon it properly is not less important for her than the choice itself. To impose upon one's self, without being called thereto, severe mortifications and heroic acts of virtue, or to aim at the high perfection of the saints, signifies less the imitation of those great heroes of Christianity than the aping of them in a forced, ridiculous, and presumptuous manner. This would be to impose upon a child a burden that a strong man is hardly able to carry. It would be to expose one's self to the danger of being crushed under the weight of falling a victim to sadness and slothfulness, vexation and discouragement. The failure of so presumptuous an undertaking very naturally produces in us dejection. To all I say: "Not to be more wise than it behooveth to be wise, but to be wise unto sobriety; and according as God hath divided to every one the measure of faith," as the Apostle tells us. Let us search with humble, upright minds, without ambition, jealousy, and pride, to know God's will over us. Let us do with as much generosity as judgment all that devolves upon us in fulfilling the Divine Will, and let us faithfully co-operate with the graces imparted. It was by this way, and by no other, that the greatest saints became holy.

The second form of spiritual pride is the impatience with which we would suddenly reach a predetermined degree of virtue. This impatience is not less natural than dangerous. There are sick persons who will submit with considerable ease to a painful operation provided it be done quickly, but who cannot subject themselves to the lesser grievance of protracted treatment, in order to regain their health. How many souls would, like this sick person, gladly offer a generous sacrifice if at once they might thus secure the possession of the desired virtue; but they cannot bring themselves down to the combat of long years, without which virtue is not acquired! Under the false appearance of courage lies hidden true cowardice. It shows that one neither knows the ways of salvation nor the wants of his own nature; for if nature felt itself freed at once from all its weaknesses, it would, like Lucifer, become puffed up in its pride, and attribute to itself the glory of a victory so lightly won.

But God understands the matter quite differently. His work in visible creation is a true picture of the effects of His grace in souls. This is particularly observable in nature. We see the gradual, sometimes slow, sometimes more rapid. growth of the smallest germ. It is often stunted by obstacles from within or others from without, against which it, as well as all creatures having the conscious perception of vital power, must struggle, till it has reached its development and perfection. Just so grace works. It is, so to say, engrafted upon nature to ennoble it. And if God sometimes exempts a soul from the rules of gradual progress, it shows us that He is all-powerful, and untrammelled by any laws; nevertheless, we have no right to claim for ourselves exemption from the general law.

In the guidance of the chosen people departing from Egypt till their entrance into the Promised Land, God has given us a true and perfect picture of the ways by which He designs to lead souls to perfection. Let us consider them more closely.

The Egyptian bondage may represent the slavery of a soul weakened in the chains of sin. The glorious land of Canaan flowing with milk and honey is a beautiful image of spiritual perfection. The journey from Egypt to Palestine is short; and the Israelites would very easily have found their destination if the Lord had limited their wanderings to a few days. We shall now consider a soul that, in the beginning of her conversion, renounces with her whole heart her natural inclinations to evil. She, too, would find it particularly agreeable if from her sad condition she could be raised to the highest, to the most exalted virtue. But the design of God is different. He leads his chosen people into the solitude of the desert, in order to give them His commandments, to make known to them His Divine Will. He leaves them there to wander forty long years. He permits them to be oppressed by powerful enemies. He allows them to be victorious on the one side and defeated on the other, according to their greater or less fidelity in prayer, their greater or less docility to the commands of Moses, His chosen leader. More than once, the Israelites deviated from the Commandments of Jehovah, for which they were severely punished but never deserted by Him. His providence always turned the fault and its punishment to their advantage. Finally they reached the borders of the Promised Land; and here new trials awaited them. At every city on their route they encountered a strong enemy to be baffled. Sometimes the Lord granted them victory, as before Jericho, whose walls at the blast of the trumpet fell to the ground; or again, they endured ignominious defeats in punishment of new prevarications. When, without recourse to God, they followed their own judgment, they fell into the snares laid for them by their enemies. In fine, the chosen people never fully conquered the Holy Land. In their immediate vicinity,—yes, in their very midst, dwelt heathens whose constant hostility kept them always on the alert, to punish their transgressions of the Divine Law, and to force them back to God This is a true picture of the paths upon which God guides the elect to sanctity. The soul must wander through the desert of aridity, repugnance, disgust, and desolation in its spiritual exercises. It is precisely by such trials that God impresses more deeply His Law upon the heart. In the solitude of the cloister, as well as in the bustle of the noisy world, the saints must bear arms against enemies whom they may weaken, but in this life never entirely banish. They must not only submit to the involuntary emotions arising as consequences from original sin, but more or less resign themselves to such experience. They shall often fall into real faults. They must be prepared for the combat, and support it with all its alternating vicissitudes to the end of life. In this way they must accustom themselves to prayer, to obedience to their spiritual guide, and to the humiliating sight of their own misery.

Let all souls take to heart the following words of Fénelon: "I hardly wonder," he says, "that God permits you to commit faults even when you most dread to do so, even in moments of sensible devotion and interior recollection. It is a true favor from Him when He permits you at such moments to fall into faults, for it convinces you of your inability by your own strength to do otherwise. What more could the greatest graces effect in you than deprive you of your high opinion of self, and urge you at every moment humbly to have recourse to God? To make a good use of the faults that humble you in your own eyes is more beneficial than the performance of good works, however consoling.

"Give up prolonged and unprofitable reflections upon your faults; for such meditations retard your progress. They serve only to discourage, and to disturb the head and heart. Humble yourself. Bewail your failings as soon as you remark them. This done, put them aside quietly, and proceed on your way. Again, do not note down every fault with pharisaical exactitude. Do not look upon God as an enemy that lays traps for you, or as a spy that watches you only to ensnare you in some fault. See in Him rather the best of fathers, who loves you and will make you happy. Repose in Him the fullest confidence. Call upon His mercy with the most perfect conviction that reliance on creatures and self is empty and deceitful.

"God sends you humiliations to make you humble and pliant. When you are not humbled by such trials, you force God, though against His will, to deal still harder blows, and to let you feel more sensibly your pitiful weakness. Be simple and pliant, and you will appease His Sacred Heart. Say to Him with confidence, 'An humble and a contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise.' You will see, then, that the Lord will be moved, for He cannot withstand the submissive confidence of His little ones."

Let us hear St. Francis de Sales on this subject: "Our daily faults and imperfections," says he, "should certainly abase and humble us before God. . . . But we must not be satisfied with this; for humility and self-contempt are virtues which serve as a means to rise to union with God. Self-imposed acts of humiliation will help us on to it; but this will count for little if not accompanied by entire resignation to God, as St. Paul recommends in the words: 'Put off the old man, and put on the new man.' We must not remain naked: we must put on God. When we have fallen, we must cast a rapid and sorrowful glance upon ourselves only the better to mount up to God again by a vigorous act of love and confidence. Our confusion for our faults ought neither to sadden nor disturb us. Were it to do so, it would be a sign that self-love is writhing. You are displeased with yourself because you are not perfect; but such displeasure arises from the love of self rather than from the love of God. Try to elicit acts of confidence, even if your feelings tend the other way. Say to God: 'O Lord, although I feel no confidence in Thee, still I know that Thou art my God, and that I am wholly Thine. I place all my hope in Thy goodness, and I remit myself wholly into Thy hands.'

"It is hard, certainly, to awaken such acts, though by no means impossible. It is on such occasions that we should show our loyalty to the Lord. You may find very little pleasure or satisfaction in such acts, but you must not be concerned on that account. Tell me not that your lips utter what your heart does not feel; for if your heart did not will it, your tongue could not frame a word. Have you succeeded in awakening an act of confidence? Then be at peace. Speak to God of other things without further attention to interior distractions and embarrassment. To conclude, I repeat once for all, it is very good to mortify yourself by a glance at your miseries and imperfections. But one must not stop there and lose courage. He must at once raise his heart to God, and confide in Him rather than in self."

These principles are so important, and yet so little understood, that we cannot dwell too long upon them. We quote what the Abbé Grou says on this subject in one of his learned books: "Souls that would really and truly belong to God, are often very much astonished at the faults they commit through human frailty. They allow themselves to be disturbed; they yield to anxiety, discouragement, and false shame. All this is the result of self-love, which does more harm than all other faults. If you wonder that you have fallen, you do very wrong, and you show how little you know yourself. On the contrary, your astonishment should be that you have not committed greater and more numerous faults. Thank God for those from which He has preserved you. You fall into disquietude as often as you perceive a fault, lose interior peace, suffer intense anxiety, are almost distracted, and busy yourself with it for hours and days. Is this right? Assuredly not. You should never allow yourself to be disquieted. When you feel that you have fallen, tranquilly rise again with a heart full of love for God. Return to Him, implore pardon, and think no more of it until you go to confession. Should you even forget the fault in the confessional you must not be troubled. Or, supposing that, through false shame, you can scarcely declare your faults to your father confessor. What will he think of me? you say; I have so often promised him to do better. When, with child-like openness and humility, you acknowledge your failings to him, he will esteem you only the more highly; but if you declare them with difficulty and repugnance, he is forced to think you proud: he will lose confidence in you, since he sees your want of candor. But I now come to the worst. You torment yourself, as St. Francis de Sales says, that you have become impatient. What misery! Do you not see that this is pure pride? You are full of shame and vexation, because in the hour of trial you displayed less strength and vigor of soul than you had previously ascribed to yourself. You would like to be free from faults and imperfections in order to contemplate your own spiritual beauty, and to be able to say: For a day, nay, for a whole week, I have had nothing wherewith to reproach myself! Finally, you lose courage; you give up your pious exercises one after another; you consider perfection as something impossible, and you despair of attaining it. You will at last say to yourself: What use is there in overcoming myself, always watching over myself, aiming at interior recollection and mortification of the senses, since I neither decrease the number of my faults nor become better? This is one of the most cunning devices of the enemy. Would you escape it? Never, then, yield to discouragement, no matter into what faults you may have fallen. Say to yourself: Should I fall twenty, nay, a hundred, times a day, I shall rise again each time and proceed on my way. What matters it that you have fallen, provided only that you reach the end? God will not reproach you on that score. It often happens that stumbling is the consequence of running too fast. Our zeal is so great that we do not give ourselves time to make use of certain precautions. Timid and reflecting souls always wish to see where they are about to step; they take roundabout ways at every moment in order to avoid dangerous places; they are always fearful of incurring even the slightest stain. In this way they do not advance so quickly as others, and death overtakes them half-way. The holiest soul is not the one that commits the fewest faults, but the one that has the most courage, the most generosity, and the most love. It is the soul that overcomes herself the most, that fears not to stumble or even to fall and soil herself a little on the way, provided only she advances.

St. Paul says: "To them that love God, all things work together unto good." Yes, all things work to their good, even their faults, sometimes very great, which God permits in order to cure them of vain self-confidence, to point out to them what they are, and of what they are capable. David recognized that his sins had strengthened him in mistrust of himself. "It is good for me," said he to God, "that Thou hast humbled me; for thereby have I learned Thy justifications." The fall of St. Peter was for him a most useful lesson. It humbled him, and prepared him to receive without danger the richest gifts of the Holy Ghost, and to become the head of the Church of Jesus Christ. In the midst of the glorious success of his apostolate, St. Paul remembered that he had once been a blasphemer and persecutor of the Church, and thus he was preserved from vain-glory. And for the same reason God would not free this great Apostle from a humiliating temptation, which served as a counterpoise to his sublime revelations.

If God knows how to draw such benefits from even the gravest crimes, who can doubt that He makes use of our daily faults for our sanctification? God permits, as all teachers of the spiritual life say, certain faults even in the holiest souls, of which, in spite of all their efforts, they cannot wholly correct themselves. He will by these weaknesses make them see and feel what, without His grace, they would be. He wills that they should not become proud on account of the graces He bestows upon them; that, on the contrary, they should ever receive them in humility, and preserve diffidence in self. They will thereby escape the snares of self-love, maintain fervor by prayer, practise watchfulness, confidence in God, and have continual recourse to Him in prayer. When the child, eager to walk alone, falls, it comes back to its mother with greater alacrity to receive comfort from her. It is taught by that fall to remain by its mother's side.

Our faults often become for us occasions for great acts of virtue, which otherwise we could not practise. God not unfrequently leaves us those faults for this intention. You give way to your humors, you are testy with your neighbor, you yield to impatience. God permits it thus, thereby to give you the opportunity to practise an act of humility by which you repair your fault and make good the scandal you have given. The fault was committed in the first heat of excitement; the satisfaction with deliberate self-victory. The reparation is, therefore, more agreeable to God than the fault was displeasing to Him.

God makes use also of our faults and exterior imperfections to conceal our sanctity from others and to procure us humiliations from them.

He is a skilful Master. Let Him act; His work will not be a failure. Firmly resolve carefully to avoid all that could in the least displease Him. And if in spite of your resolution you commit a fault, regret it for His sake and not your own. Love the humiliation which arises from it, and pray the Lord earnestly and perseveringly that every one of your false steps may redound to His greater glory and your own good. He will hear your prayer, and you will by this means advance more rapidly in virtue than if you led a life apparently regular and holy; for the latter would be less conducive to the uprooting of self-love.

If God desires anything good from us, we should not refuse it under the pretext that by so doing we might commit faults. A pious work imperfectly performed is better than one not done at all. You refrain so frequently from giving a necessary rebuke, because you fear becoming excited or violent; you avoid intercourse with certain persons, lest their faults put your patience to the test. But how will you acquire virtue if you avoid the occasions of practising it? Do you not, by such reserve, commit a greater fault than that of which you were afraid? Endeavor to act through a good intention; fly whither duty calls you; and be persuaded that God is sufficiently indulgent to pardon a fault committed in His holy service, and to which the desire of pleasing Him exposed you.