Continues the topic begun and tells of some great favors the Lord granted her and of some things His Majesty told her for her own assurance and so that she could answer those who contradicted her.
I’VE WANDERED FAR from my topic because I was about to speak of the signs for discerning that the vision is not produced by the imagination.1 How could we represent in detail the humanity of Christ and imagine His great beauty? No little time would be required if the image were to look somewhat like Him. You could indeed represent Him in your imagination and gaze upon Him for some time, and upon His form and whiteness, and gradually perfect that image and commit it to memory. Who could take away such an image, since the intellect was able to fashion it? In the vision we are dealing with there is no possibility of fashioning it ourselves, but we must look at what the Lord desires to show us, when He desires, and as He desires. There is no taking it away or inducing it, nor, however much we try, is there any way of doing either; nor when we desire is there a way to see it or to stop seeing it. If we want to look at some particular thing, the vision of Christ ceases.
2. For two and a half years God frequently granted me this favor. It must be for over three years now that He has continually replaced this favor with another more sublime—as I shall perhaps afterward explain.2 And in being aware that He was speaking to me and that I was beholding that great beauty and the gentleness with which He spoke those words with His most beautiful and divine mouth—and at other times beholding His severity—and strongly desiring to know the color of His eyes, or how tall He was, so that I could be able to describe these things, I never merited to see them. Nor was I able to obtain this knowledge; rather, by trying to do so, I would lose the vision entirely. Indeed I sometimes see Him looking at me with pity, but this kind of vision is so powerful that the soul cannot suffer it, and it remains in such a sublime rapture that in order to enjoy the beautiful vision more completely it loses it. Hence with respect to this vision there is nothing to desire or not to desire. It is clearly seen that the Lord desires nothing else than humility and confusion, and that we accept what is given and praise the one who gives it.
3. This is the case in all visions without exception; our effort can neither do nor undo anything when it comes to seeing more or seeing less. So that we may be made less capable of pride, the Lord desires us to be very clearly aware that this is not our work but His Majesty’s work. Rather, it makes us humble and fearful when we observe that since the Lord takes away our power of seeing what we desire to see, He can take from us these favors and gifts—and we shall be left with nothing. We should always walk in fear as long as we live in this exile.
4. The Lord almost always showed Himself to me as risen, also when He appeared in the Host—except at times when He showed me His wounds in order to encourage me when I was suffering tribulation. Sometimes He appeared on the cross or in the garden, and a few times with the crown of thorns; sometimes He also appeared carrying the cross on account, as I say, of my needs and those of others. But His body was always glorified.
I suffered numerous affronts and trials in speaking about these visions, and very many persecutions. It seemed so certain to them that I had a devil that some persons wanted to exorcise me. This didn’t matter much to me; but I grieved when I saw that my confessors were afraid to hear my confession or when I learned that others said something to them. Nonetheless, I was never able to regret having seen these heavenly visions, and I would not exchange even one for all the goods and delights of the world. I have always considered a vision a great favor from the Lord. It seems to me to be a most rich treasure, and the Lord Himself assured me of this many times. I saw that I was increasing very much in His love. I went to Him to complain about all these trials, and I always came away from prayer consoled and with new strength. I didn’t dare contradict those who were judging my spirit, because I saw that everything would then become worse since my doing so would appear to them as a lack of humility. I talked with my confessor; he always consoled me greatly when he saw that I was troubled.
5. Since the visions were increasing, one from the group who previously helped me3—for he sometimes heard my confession when the ordinary confessor wasn’t able to do so—began to say that it was clearly the devil. He ordered that, since I didn’t have the means to resist the visions, I should always bless myself when I saw one and make the gesture of scorn called the fig; he was certain the devil was the cause and that by my doing this the vision wouldn’t return. He told me that I shouldn’t be afraid, that God would protect me and take it away from me. Following this advice was very painful to me. Since I couldn’t believe but that the vision was from God, it was a terrible thing for me to have to do what I was commanded; and neither could I desire, as I said,4 that the vision be taken away. But, finally, I did all they ordered me to do. I begged God persistently and with many tears that He would free me from deception. And I begged St. Peter and St. Paul; for since the first time the Lord appeared to me was on their feast day,5 He told me that they would protect me from being deceived. Thus I often saw them very clearly at my left, although not by an imaginative vision. These glorious saints were very much lords of mine.
6. Making the fig at this vision of the Lord caused me the greatest pain. When I saw Him present, I couldn’t have believed it was the devil if they broke me in pieces; thus it was a kind of severe penance for me. So that I would not be forever blessing myself, I held a cross in my hand. I did this almost all the time; I didn’t make the fig so continually, because it grieved me deeply to do so. I recalled the injuries the Jews caused Him and begged Him to pardon me since I was doing it in order to obey the one who stood in His place, and not to blame me, since they were the ministers that He had placed in His Church. He told me not to worry and that I did well in obeying, but that He would make the truth known. When they forbade me to practice prayer, it seemed to me He was annoyed. He told me to tell them that now what they were doing was tyranny. He gave me signs for knowing that the vision was not from the devil. I shall mention some afterward.6
7. Once while I was holding the cross in my hand, for I had it on a rosary, He took it from me with His own hands; when He gave it back to me, it was made of four large stones incomparably more precious than diamonds—there is no appropriate comparison for supernatural things. A diamond seems to be something counterfeit and imperfect when compared with the precious stones that are seen there. The representation of the five wounds was of very delicate workmanship. He told me that from then on I would see the cross in that way; and so it happened, for I didn’t see the wood from which it was made but these stones. No one, however, saw this except me.
When I began to try to obey the command to reject and resist these favors, there was a much greater increase in them. In seeking to distract myself, I never got free from prayer. It even seemed to me that I was in prayer while sleeping. There was an increase of love and of the loving complaints I was addressing to the Lord; the pain became unbearable, nor was it in my power to stop thinking of Him no matter how much I tried and even though I wanted to. Nonetheless, I obeyed when I could; but in this matter I was able to do little or nothing at all, and the Lord never took prayer from me. But even though He told me to do what they said, He assured me on the other hand and taught me what I should say to them—and so He does now. He gave me so many adequate reasons that these reasons made me feel completely secure.
8. After a short time His Majesty began as He had promised me7 to give further indication that it was He by increasing the love of God in me to such a degree that I didn’t know where it came from (for it was very supernatural); nor did I procure it. I saw that I was dying with desire to see God, and I didn’t know where to seek this life except in death. Some great impulses of this love came upon me in such a way that, even though they were not as unbearable as those I already mentioned before8 or of such value, I didn’t know what to do with myself. For nothing satisfied me, nor could I put up with myself; it truly seemed as if my soul were being wrested from me. O superb contrivance of my Lord! What delicate skill You use with Your miserable slave! You hide Yourself from me and afflict me with Your love through a death so delightful that the soul would never want to escape from it.
9. It’s impossible for anyone who has not experienced them to be able to understand these impulses, which are so vehement. For they are not a disquiet of the heart. Neither are they the certain devotional feelings that often occur and seem to suffocate the spirit because they can’t be contained. These devotional feelings belong to a lower form of prayer and their impetuous stirrings should be avoided by trying gently to gather them within oneself and by quieting the soul. This condition is like that of children crying so furiously that it seems they are about to be suffocated; their excessive feelings cease when they are given something to drink. So it is here. Reason should bridle these feelings because they could be caused by our own natural weakness. We should consider with fear that they are not totally perfect but can pertain in great part to the sensory portion of the soul. And let this child become quiet by a loving caress which moves it to love, by gentle means and not by blows, as they say. Let this love be held within and not resemble the pot that heats up too fast and boils over because too much wood was put on the fire. They should moderate the causes of the increase of this fire and strive to put it out with gentle and not arduous tears; for such are the tears that come from these feelings, and these tears do much harm. I myself sometimes experienced them in the beginning, and they left my head so exhausted and my spirit so tired that for another day or more I was unfit to return to prayer. Hence great discretion is necessary in the beginning so that everything may proceed gently and the spirit may be shown how to work interiorly. One should strive earnestly to avoid exterior feelings.
10. These other impulses are far different. We ourselves don’t put the wood on the fire, but it seems that once the fire is going we are suddenly thrown into it so as to be burned up. The soul doesn’t strive for the pain of this wound caused by the Lord’s absence, but at times an arrow is thrust into the deepest and most living recesses of the heart in such a way that the soul doesn’t know what has happened or what it wants. It well understands that it wants God and that the arrow seems to have been dipped in a poisonous herb so that for the love of this Lord it might despise itself; and it would gladly lose its life for Him. You can’t exaggerate or describe the way in which God wounds the soul and the extreme pain this wound produces, for it causes the soul to forget itself. Yet this pain is so delightful that there is no other pleasure in life that gives greater happiness. The soul would always want, as I said,9 to be dying of this sickness.
11. This pain and glory joined together left me confused; I couldn’t understand how such a combination was possible. Oh, what it is to see a wounded soul! I say that this reality should be understood in such a way that the soul is said to be wounded for a very sublime reason and there be clear awareness that the soul did not cause this love, but that seemingly a spark from the very great love the Lord has for it suddenly fell upon it, making it burn all over. Oh, how many times when I am in this state do I recall that verse of David: Quemadmodum desiderat cervus ad fontes aquarum;10 for it seems to me that I experience it literally within myself.
12. When this thirst is not too severe, it seems it can be appeased somewhat; at least the soul seeks some remedy—for it doesn’t know what to do—through certain penances, but they are no more felt and cause no more pain than would the shedding of blood from a dead body. It seeks ways and means of doing something about the love of God it feels. But this pain of love is so great that I don’t know what bodily torment would take it away. Since the remedy doesn’t lie in bodily penances, these penances make very poor medicine for so sublime a sickness. They can relieve it somewhat, and the soul can get along in this way while at the same time begging God to provide a cure for its sickness. But it sees no remedy other than death, for it thinks that by means of death it can enjoy its Good completely. At other times the pain becomes so severe that the soul can do neither penance nor anything else, for the whole body is paralyzed. One is unable to stir with either the feet or the arms. Rather, if one is standing, one sits down, like a person being carried from one place to another, unable even to breathe. The soul lets out some sighs—not great ones—because it can do no more; they are felt within.
13. The Lord wanted me while in this state to see sometimes the following vision: I saw close to me toward my left side an angel in bodily form. I don’t usually see angels in bodily form except on rare occasions; although many times angels appear to me, but without my seeing them, as in the intellectual vision I spoke about before.11 This time, though, the Lord desired that I see the vision in the following way: the angel was not large but small; he was very beautiful, and his face was so aflame that he seemed to be one of those very sublime angels that appear to be all afire. They must belong to those they call the cherubim, for they didn’t tell me their names. But I see clearly that in heaven there is so much difference between some angels and others and between these latter and still others that I wouldn’t know how to explain it. I saw in his hands a large golden dart and at the end of the iron tip there appeared to be a little fire. It seemed to me this angel plunged the dart several times into my heart and that it reached deep within me. When he drew it out, I thought he was carrying off with him the deepest part of me; and he left me all on fire with great love of God. The pain was so great that it made me moan, and the sweetness this greatest pain caused me was so superabundant that there is no desire capable of taking it away; nor is the soul content with less than God. The pain is not bodily but spiritual, although the body doesn’t fail to share in some of it, and even a great deal. The loving exchange that takes place between the soul and God is so sweet that I beg Him in His goodness to give a taste of this love to anyone who thinks I am lying.
14. On the days this lasted I went about as though stupefied. I desired neither to see nor to speak, but to clasp my suffering close to me, for to me it was greater glory than all creation.
Sometimes it happened—when the Lord desired—that these raptures were so great that even though I was among people I couldn’t resist them; to my deep affliction they began to be made public. After I experience them I don’t feel this suffering so strongly; rather I experience what I mentioned before in that other part—I don’t recall which chapter12—which is very different in many respects and more valuable. But when this pain I’m now speaking of begins, it seems the Lord carries the soul away and places it in ecstasy; thus there is no room for pain or suffering, because joy soon enters in.
May He be blessed forever who grants so many favors to one who responds so poorly to gifts as great as these.