Devotion to Our Lady |
|
Réginald Marie Garrigou-Lagrange was February 21, 1877, Auch, France and died on February 15, 1964, Rome. He was a member of the Dominican Order of Preachers and a world renowned Catholic theologian, considered by some to be the greatest Catholic Thomistic theologian of the 20th century, along with Jacobus Ramírez, O.P., and Édouard Hugon, O.P., both also members of the Dominican Order of Preachers.
He taught at the Dominican Pontifical University of St. Thomas Aquinas, the Angelicum, in Rome from 1909 to 1960., at which point he retired. His great achievement was to synthesize the highly abstract writings of St Thomas Aquinas with the experiential writings of St John of the Cross, showing how they are in perfect harmony with each other. Father Garrigou-Lagrange, the leading proponent of “strict observance Thomism”, attracted wider attention when in 1946 he wrote against the Nouvelle Théologie (New Theology) theological movement, criticizing it as Modernist. He is also said to be the drafter of Pope Pius XII’s 1950 encyclical Humani Generis, subtitled “Concerning Some False Opinions Threatening to Undermine the Foundations of Catholic Doctrine.” |
LET'S GET SERIOUS!
Suffering in Purgatory and Suffering on Earth Suffering in Purgatory is greater than all suffering on Earth. Such is the doctrine of tradition, supported by theological reasoning. Tradition is expressed by St. Augustine: "That fire will be more painful than anything man can suffer in the present life." St. Isidore speaks in the same sense. According to these testimonies and others similar to them, the least pain in Purgatory surpasses the greatest sufferings of the present life. St. Bonaventure speaks somewhat differently: "In the next life, by reason of the state of the souls there retained, the purifying purgatorial suffering will be, in its kind, more severe than the greatest trials on Earth." We must understand him thus: For one and the same sin, the smallest suffering in Purgatory is greater than any corresponding suffering on Earth. But it does not follow that the least pain in Purgatory surpasses the greatest terrestrial suffering. On this point St. Bonaventure is followed by St. Robert Bellarmine. According to this last author, the privation of God is without doubt a very great suffering, but it is sweetened and consoled by the assured hope of once possessing Him. From this hope there arises an incredible joy, which grows in measure as the soul approaches the end of its exile. Many theologians, notably Suarez, rightly remark that the sufferings in Purgatory, especially the delay of the beatific vision, are of a higher order than our terrestrial sufferings, and in this sense we may say that the smallest suffering in Purgatory is more severe than the greatest suffering on Earth. The joy they have in the hope of deliverance cannot diminish the suffering they feel from deprivation of the beatific vision. We see this truth in Jesus crucified: supreme beatitude, love of God and of souls, far from diminishing His pains, augmented them. St. Catherine of Genoa speaks thus: "Souls in Purgatory unite great joy with great suffering. One does not diminish the other." She continues: "No peace is comparable to that of the souls in Purgatory, except that of the saints in Heaven. On the other hand, the souls in Purgatory endure torments which no tongue can describe and no intelligence comprehend, without special revelation." This saint, we recall, experienced on Earth the pains of Purgatory. This testimony of tradition is illustrated by the character of great saints. While they are more severe than ordinary preachers, they also have much greater love of God and souls. They show forth, not only the justice of God, but also His boundless love. A good Christian illustrates the same truth. A Christian mother, for instance, is severe in order to correct her children, but the element that predominates is sweetness and maternal goodness. Today, on the contrary, it often happens that many parents lack both severity and love. Those persons who do not undergo Purgatory on Earth will have it later on. Nor must we make too sharp a distinction between sanctification and salvation. If we neglect sanctification, we may miss salvation itself. Privation of the beatific vision is painful in the same degree as the desire of that vision is vivid. Two reasons, one negative, the other positive, show the vividness of this desire. Negatively, its desire for God is no longer retarded by the weight of the body, by the distractions and occupations of this terrestrial life. Created goods cannot distract it from the suffering it has in the privation of God. Positively, its desire of God is very intense, because the hour has arrived when it would be in the enjoyment of God if it had not placed thereunto an obstacle by the faults which it must expiate. The souls in Purgatory grasp much more clearly than we do, by reason of their infused ideas, the measureless value of the immediate vision of God, of His inamissible [incapable of being lost] possession. Further, they have intuition of themselves. Sure of their own salvation, they know with absolute certainty that they are predestined to see God, face to face. Without this delay for expiation, the moment of separation from the body would coincide with that of entrance into Heaven. In the radical order of spiritual life, then, the separated soul ought already to enjoy the beatific vision. Hence it has a hunger for God which it cannot experience here on Earth. It has failed to prepare for its rendezvous with God. Since it failed to search for Him, He now hides Himself. Analogies may be helpful. We are awaiting, with great anxiety, a friend with whom to discuss an important matter at a determined hour. If our friend is delayed, inquietude supervenes. The longer the delay, the more does inquietude grow. In the physical order, if our meal is retarded, say six hours or more, hunger grows ever more painful. If we have not eaten for three days, hunger becomes very severe. Thus, in the spiritual domain, the separated soul has an insatiable hunger for God. It understands much better than it did on Earth that its will has a depth without measure, that only God seen face to face can fill this will and draw it irresistibly. This immense void renders it more avid to see the sovereign good. This desire surpasses by far the natural desire, conditional and inefficacious, to see God. The desire of which we speak now is a supernatural desire, which proceeds from infused hope and infused charity. It is an efficacious desire, which will be infallibly fulfilled, but later. For the moment God refuses to fulfill this desire. The soul, having sought itself instead of God, cannot now find Him. Joy follows perfect activity. The greatest joy, then, follows the act of seeing God. The absence of this vision, when its hour has arrived, causes the greatest pain. Souls in Purgatory feel most vividly their impotence and poverty. A parallel on Earth appears in the saints. Like St. Paul, saints desire to die and to be with Christ. We often hear it said that in the souls in Purgatory there is an ebb and flood. Strongly drawn toward God, they are held back by the "remains of sin," which they have to expiate. They cannot rush to the goal which they so ardently desire. Love of God does not diminish their pain, but increases it. And this love is no longer meritorious. How eloquent is their title: the suffering Church! |
You, no doubt, remember the statement that Our Lady made to Lucia at Fatima, when she was asked about the fate of two two girls from the village who had recently died. Lucia asked Our Lady: “Is Maria das Neves in Heaven?" Our Lady replied: "Yes, she is."
The Lucia asked about the other girl, who was aged around eighteen or nineteen: "And Amelia?" This time, Our Lady said: "She will be in Purgatory until the end of the world" Amelia: until the end of the world!? Surely, a startling and perplexing communication! Some commentators have tried to tone it down, but not Lucia herself. In her last booklet, which she wrote not long before her death, Sister Lucia shares her ideas about the shocking remark of Our Lady with respect to Amelia's time in Purgatory, which may serve well as an insight to the mystery of Purgatory. Here follows Sister Lucia’s reflection and explanation: |
St. Padre Pio Quotes on Purgatory
• In 1945, a Friar, Brother Modestino, asked Padre Pio to give a comparison between fire on Earth and the flames of Purgatory. Padre Pio replied: “They compare like fresh water and boiling water.” • “The souls in Purgatory pray for us, and their prayers are even more effective than ours, because they are accompanied by their suffering. So, let’s pray for them, and let’s pray them to pray for us.” • “Most of those who are saved, have to pass through Purgatory before arriving at the fullness of beatitude.” • “The souls in Purgatory repay the prayers that we say for them.” • “When we pray for the souls in Purgatory we will always get something back.” • “The souls in Purgatory pray for us.” |
Padre Pio and the Poor Souls in Purgatory
In the life of St. Padre Pio, we read of many souls from Purgatory appearing to him to beg his prayers. In 1922, Bishop Alberto Costa asked Padre Pio if he had ever seen a soul in Purgatory. “I have seen so many of them that they don’t scare me anymore.” A friar testified of the following incident: “We were all in the dining room when Padre Pio got suddenly up and walked at steady pace to the door of the convent. He opened it and started having a conversation.” The two friars that went with him didn’t see anybody and started thinking that something might be wrong with Padre Pio. On the way back to the dining area Padre Pio explained. “Don’t worry. I was talking to some souls on their way from Purgatory to Paradise. They came to thank me that I remembered them today in the Mass.” Over the decades of Padre Pio’s life millions of souls climbed Mt. Gargano to the Capuchin Friary of Our Lady of Grace to see him and to request his intercession with God. However, according to his own testimony the majority of these souls were not of the living but of the dead. Padre Pio said: “More souls of the dead from Purgatory, than of the living, climb this mountain to attend my Masses and seek my prayers.” Padre Pio reported to Padre Anastasio di Roio: “One night I was alone in the choir, and I saw a friar cleaning the altar late at night. I asked him to go to bed since it was so late. He said: ‘ I’m a friar like you. I did here my novitiate and when assigned to take care of the Altar, and I passed many times in front of the Tabernacle without making the proper reverence. For this sin I am in Purgatory, and the Lord sent me to you. You decide how much longer I have to suffer in those flames.’ I told him: until I said the Mass for him in the morning. He said: “You are cruel!” and disappeared. I still have a wound in my heart. I could have sent him immediately to Paradise, instead he had to stay one more night in the flames of Purgatory.” One evening Padre Pio was in a room, on the ground floor of the convent, turned guesthouse. He was alone and had just laid down on the cot when, suddenly, a man appeared to him wound in a black mantle. Padre Pio was amazed and arose to ask the man who he was and what he wanted. The stranger answered that he was a soul in Purgatory. “I am Pietro Di Mauro” he said “I died in a fire, on September 18, 1908, in this convent. In fact this convent, after the expropriation of the ecclesiastical goods, had been turned into a hospice for elderly. I died in the flames, while I was sleeping on my straw mattress, right in this room. I have come from Purgatory: God has granted me to come here and ask you to say Mass for me tomorrow morning. Thanks to one Mass I will be able to enter into Paradise”. Padre Pio told the man that he would say Mass for him..., “But” Padre Pio said: “I wanted to accompany him to the door of the convent. I suddenly realized I had talked to a dead person, in fact when we went out in the church square, the man that was at my side, suddenly disappeared”. Gerardo De Caro had long conversations with Padre Pio in 1943. In his written notes he testifies: “Padre Pio had an exact knowledge of the state of a soul after death, including the duration of the pain until reached total purification.” |
Catherine, who was one of five children, was brought up piously .Her confessor relates that her penances were remarkable from the time she was eight. When she was thirteen she declared to her confessor her wish to enter the convent -- her elder sister had already taken the veil.
He pointed out to her that she was still very young and that the life of a religious was hard, but she met his objections with a "prudence and zeal" which seemed to him "not human but supernatural and divine ". So he visited the convent of her predilection, to which he was confessor, and urged the mothers to accept her as a novice. But they were resolute against transgressing their custom by receiving so young a girl. Catherine's disappointment gave her great pain. She grew up to be very lovely: "taller than most women, her head well proportioned, her face rather long but singularly beautiful and well-shaped, her complexion fair and in the flower of her youth rubicund, her nose long rather than short, her eyes dark and her forehead high and broad; every part of her body was well formed." About the time she failed to enter the convent, or a little later, her father died, and his power and possessions passed to her eldest brother Giacomo. Wishing to calm the differences between the factions into which the principal families of Genoa were divided--differences which had long entailed cruel, distracting and wearing strife--Giacomo Fiesca formed the project of marrying his young sister, Catherine, to Giuliano Adorni, son of the head of a powerful Ghibelline family. He obtained his mother's support for his plan, and found Giuliano willing to accept the beautiful, noble and rich bride proposed to him. As for Catherine herself, she would not refuse this cross laid on her at the command of her mother and eldest brother. On the 13th of January, 1463, at the age of sixteen, she was married to Giuliano Adorni. He is described as a man who wasted his substance on disorderly living. Catherine, living with him in his fine house, at first entirely refused to adopt his worldly ways, and lived "like a hermit", never going out except to hear Mass. But when she had thus spent five years, she yielded to the remonstrances of her family, and for the next five years practiced a certain involvement with the world, partaking of the pleasures customary among the women of her class, but never falling into sin. Increasingly she was irked and wearied by her husband's lack of spiritual sympathy with her, and by the distractions which kept her from God. (to be continued) |
TREATISE ON PURGATORY (Part One)
The divine fire which St. Catherine experienced in herself, made her comprehend the state of souls in Purgatory, and that they are contented there although in torment. CHAPTER 1 The state of souls in Purgatory.—They are exempt from all self-love. This holy soul, while still in the flesh, was placed in the Purgatory of the burning love of God, in whose flames she was purified from every stain, so that when she passed from this life she might be ready to enter the presence of God, her most sweet love. By means of that flame of love she comprehended in her own soul the condition of the souls of the faithful in Purgatory, where they are purified from the rust and stain of sins, from which they have not been cleansed in this world. And, as in the Purgatory of that divine flame, she was united with the divine love and satisfied with all that was accomplished in her, she was enabled to comprehend the state of the souls in Purgatory, and thus discovered concerning it: “As far as I can see, the souls in Purgatory can have no choice but to be there; this God has most justly ordained by His divine decree. They cannot turn towards themselves and say: ‘I have committed such and such sins for which I deserve to remain here;’ nor can they say: ‘Would that I had refrained from them, for then I should at this moment be in paradise;’ nor again: ‘This soul will be released before me;’ or ‘I shall be released before her.’ They retain no memory of either good or evil respecting themselves, or others, which would increase their pain. They are so contented with the divine dispositions in their regard; and with doing all that is pleasing to God in that way which He chooses, that they cannot think of themselves, though they may strive to do so. They see nothing but the operation of the divine goodness which is so manifestly bringing them to God that they can reflect neither on their own profit, nor on their hurt. Could they do so, they would not be in pure charity. They see not that they suffer their pains in consequence of their sins, nor can they for a moment entertain that thought, for should they do so it would be an active imperfection, and that cannot exist in a state where there is no longer the possibility of sin. “At the moment of leaving this life they see why they are sent to Purgatory, but never again, otherwise they would still retain something private, which has no place there. Being established in charity, they can never deviate therefrom by any defect, and have no will or desire, save the pure will of pure love, and can swerve from it in nothing. They can neither commit sin, nor merit by refraining from it.” CHAPTER 2 The joy of souls in Purgatory.—The saint illustrates their ever increasing vision of God.—The difficulty of speaking about their state. “There is no peace to be compared with that of the souls in Purgatory, save that of the saints in paradise, and this peace is ever augmented by the inflowing of God into these souls, which increases in proportion as the impediments to it are removed. The rust of sin is the impediment, and this the fire continually consumes, so that the soul in this state is continually opening itself to admit the divine communication. As a covered surface can never reflect the sun, not through any defect in that orb, but simply from the resistance offered by the covering, so, if the covering be gradually removed, the surface will by little and little be opened to the sun and will more and more reflect His light. “So it is with the rust of sin, which is the covering of the soul. In Purgatory the flames incessantly consume it, and as it disappears, the soul reflects more and more perfectly the true sun who is God. Its contentment increases as this rust wears away, and the soul is laid bare to the divine ray, and thus one increases and the other decreases, until the time is accomplished. The pain never diminishes, although the time does, but as to the will, so united is it to God by pure charity, and so satisfied to be under His divine appointment, that these souls can never say their pains are pains. “On the other hand, it is true that they suffer torments which no tongue can describe nor any intelligence comprehend, unless it be revealed by such a special grace as that which God has vouchsafed to me, but which I am unable to explain. And this vision which God revealed to me has never departed from my memory. I will describe it as far as I am able, and they whose intellects our Lord will deign to open will understand me. CHAPTER 3 Separation from God is the greatest pain of Purgatory.—In this, Purgatory differs from Hell. “The source of all suffering is either Original or Actual Sin. God created the soul pure, simple, free from every stain, and with a certain beatific instinct toward Himself. It is drawn aside from Him by Original Sin, and when Actual Sin is afterwards added, this withdraws it still farther, and, ever as it removes from Him, its sinfulness increases, because its communication with God grows less and less. “And because there is no good except by participation with God, who, to the irrational creatures imparts Himself as He wills and in accordance with His divine decree, and never withdraws from them, but to the rational soul He imparts Himself more or less, according as He finds her more or less freed from the hindrances of sin, it follows that, when He finds a soul that is returning to the purity and simplicity in which she was created, He increased in her the beatific instinct, and kindles in her a fire of charity so powerful and vehement, that it is insupportable to the soul to find any obstacle between her and her end; and the clearer vision she has of these obstacles the greater is her pain. “Since the souls in Purgatory are freed from the guilt of sin, there is no barrier between them and God save only the pains they suffer, which delay the satisfaction of their desire. And when they see how serious is even the slightest hindrance, which the necessity of justice causes to check them, a vehement flame kindles within them, which is like that of Hell. They feel no guilt however, and it is guilt which is the cause of the malignant will of the condemned in Hell, to whom God does not communicate His goodness, and thus they remain in despair and with a will forever opposed to the good will of God. |
Catherine, who was one of five children, was brought up piously .Her confessor relates that her penances were remarkable from the time she was eight. When she was thirteen she declared to her confessor her wish to enter the convent -- her elder sister had already taken the veil.
He pointed out to her that she was still very young and that the life of a religious was hard, but she met his objections with a "prudence and zeal" which seemed to him "not human but supernatural and divine ". So he visited the convent of her predilection, to which he was confessor, and urged the mothers to accept her as a novice. But they were resolute against transgressing their custom by receiving so young a girl. Catherine's disappointment gave her great pain. She grew up to be very lovely: "taller than most women, her head well proportioned, her face rather long but singularly beautiful and well-shaped, her complexion fair and in the flower of her youth rubicund, her nose long rather than short, her eyes dark and her forehead high and broad; every part of her body was well formed." About the time she failed to enter the convent, or a little later, her father died, and his power and possessions passed to her eldest brother Giacomo. Wishing to calm the differences between the factions into which the principal families of Genoa were divided--differences which had long entailed cruel, distracting and wearing strife--Giacomo Fiesca formed the project of marrying his young sister, Catherine, to Giuliano Adorni, son of the head of a powerful Ghibelline family. He obtained his mother's support for his plan, and found Giuliano willing to accept the beautiful, noble and rich bride proposed to him. As for Catherine herself, she would not refuse this cross laid on her at the command of her mother and eldest brother. On the 13th of January, 1463, at the age of sixteen, she was married to Giuliano Adorni. He is described as a man who wasted his substance on disorderly living. Catherine, living with him in his fine house, at first entirely refused to adopt his worldly ways, and lived "like a hermit", never going out except to hear Mass. But when she had thus spent five years, she yielded to the remonstrances of her family, and for the next five years practiced a certain involvement with the world, partaking of the pleasures customary among the women of her class, but never falling into sin. Increasingly she was irked and wearied by her husband's lack of spiritual sympathy with her, and by the distractions which kept her from God. (to be continued) |
TREATISE ON PURGATORY (Part Two)
The divine fire which St. Catherine experienced in herself, made her comprehend the state of souls in Purgatory, and that they are contented there although in torment. CHAPTER 4 The difference between the state of the souls in Hell and that of those in Purgatory.—Reflections of the saint upon those who neglect their salvation. “It is evident that the revolt of man’s will, from that of God, constitutes sin, and while that revolt continues, man’s guilt remains. Those, therefore, that are in Hell, having passed from this life with perverse wills, their guilt is not remitted, nor can it be, since they are no longer capable of change. When this life is ended, the soul remains forever confirmed either in good or evil according as she has here determined. As it is written: Where I shall find thee, that is, at the hour of death, with the will either fixed on sin or repenting of it, there I will judge thee. From this judgment there is no appeal, for after death the freedom of the will can never return, but the will is confirmed in that state in which it is found at death. The souls in Hell, having been found at that hour with the will to sin, have the guilt and the punishment always with them, and although this punishment is not so great as they deserve, yet it is eternal. Those in Purgatory, on the other hand, suffer the penalty only, for their guilt was cancelled at death, when they were found hating their sins and penitent for having offended the divine goodness. And this penalty has an end, for the term of it is ever approaching. O misery beyond all misery, and the greater because in his blindness, man regards it not! “The punishment of the damned is not, it is true, infinite in degree, for the all lovely goodness of God shines even into Hell. He who dies in mortal sin merits infinite woe for an infinite duration; but the mercy of God has only made the time infinite, and mitigated the intensity of the pain. In justice He might have inflicted much greater punishment than He has done. “Oh, what peril attaches to sin willfully committed! For it is so difficult for man to bring himself to penance, and without penitence guilt remains and will ever remain, so long as man retains unchanged the will to sin, or is intent upon committing it. CHAPTER 5 Of the peace and joy which are found in Purgatory “The souls in Purgatory are entirely conformed to the will of God; therefore, they correspond with His goodness, are contented with all that He ordains, and are entirely purified from the guilt of their sins. They are pure from sins, because they have in this life abhorred them and confessed them with true contrition, and for this reason God remits their guilt, so that only the stains of sin remain, and these must be devoured by the fire. Thus freed from guilt and united to the will of God, they see Him clearly according to that degree of light which He allows them, and comprehend how great a good is the fruition of God, for which all souls were created. Moreover, these souls are in such close conformity to God, and are drawn so powerfully toward Him by reason of the natural attraction between Him and the soul, that no illustration or comparison could make this impetuosity understood in the way in which my spirit conceives it by its interior sense. Nevertheless I will use one which occurs to me. CHAPTER 6 A comparison to express with how great violence of love the souls in Purgatory desire to enjoy God. “Let us suppose that in the whole world there were but one loaf to appease the hunger of every creature, and that the bare sight of it would satisfy them. Now man, when in health, has by nature the instinct for food, but if we can suppose him to abstain from it and neither die, nor yet lose health and strength, his hunger would clearly become increasingly urgent. In this case, if he knew that nothing but the loaf would satisfy him, and that until he reached it his hunger could not be appeased, he would suffer intolerable pains, which would increase as his distance from the loaf diminished; but if he were sure that he would never see it, his Hell would be as complete as that of the damned souls, who, hungering after God, have no hope of ever seeing the bread of life. But the souls in Purgatory have an assured hope of seeing Him and of being entirely satisfied; and therefore they endure all hunger and suffer all pain until that moment when they enter into eternal possession of this bread, which is Jesus Christ, our Lord, our Saviour, and our Love. |
THE LIFE OF ST. CATHERINE OF GENOA : Part 2
Her conversion is dated from the eve of St. Bernard, 1474, when she visited the church of St. Bernard, in Genoa, and prayed, so intolerable had life in the world become to her, that she might have an illness which would keep her three months in bed. Her prayer was not granted but her longing to leave the world persisted. Two days later she visited her sister Limbania in the convent of Santa Maria delle Grazie, and at Limbania's instance returned there on the morrow to make her confession to the nuns' confessor. Suddenly, as she was kneeling down at the confessional, "her heart was wounded by a dart of God's immense love, and she had a clear vision of her own wretchedness and faults and the most high goodness of God. She fell to the ground, all but swooning", and from her heart rose the unuttered cry, "No more of the world for me! No more sin!" The confessor was at this moment called away, and when he came back she could speak again, and asked and obtained his leave to postpone her confession. Then she hurried home, to shut herself up in the most secluded room in the house, and for several days she stayed there absorbed by consciousness of her own wretchedness and of God's mercy in warning her. She had a vision of Our Lord, weighed down by His Cross and covered with blood, and she cried aloud, "O Lord, I will never sin again; if need be, I will make public confession of my sins." After a time, she was inspired with a desire for Holy Communion which she fulfilled on the feast of the Annunciation. She now entered on a life of prayer and penance. She obtained from her husband a promise, which he kept, to live with her as a brother. She made strict rules for herself--to avert her eyes from sights of the world, to speak no useless words, to eat only what was necessary for life, to sleep as little as possible and on a bed in which she put briers and thistles, to wear a rough hair shirt. Every day she spent six hours in prayer. She rigorously mortified her affections and will. Soon, guided by the Ladies of Mercy, she was devoting herself to the care of the sick poor. In her plain dress she would go through the streets and byways of Genoa, looking for poor people who were ill, and when she found them she tended them and washed and mended their filthy rags. Often she visited the hospital of St. Lazarus, which harbored incurables so diseased as to be horrible to the sight and smell, many of them embittered. In Catherine they aroused not disgust but charity; she met their insults with unfailing gentleness. Her earliest biography gives details of her religious practices. From the time of her conversion she hungered insatiably for the Holy Eucharist, and the priests admitted her to the privilege, very rare in that period, of daily communion. For twenty-three years, beginning in the third year after her conversion, she fasted completely throughout Lent and Advent, except that at long intervals she drank a glass of water mixed with salt and vinegar to remind herself of the drink offered to Our Lord on the cross, and during these fasts she enjoyed exceptional health and vigor. For twenty-five years after her conversion she had no spiritual director except Our Lord Himself. Then, when she had fallen into the illness which afflicted the last ten years of her life, she felt the need for human help, and a priest named Cattaneo Marabotto, who had a position of authority in the hospital in which she was then working, became her confessor. Some years after her conversion her husband was received into the Third Order of St. Francis, and afterwards he helped her in her works of mercy. (to be continued) |
TREATISE ON PURGATORY (Part Three)
The divine fire which St. Catherine experienced in herself, made her comprehend the state of souls in Purgatory, and that they are contented there although in torment. CHAPTER 7 Of the marvelous wisdom of God in the creation of Purgatory and of Hell. “As the purified spirit finds no repose but in God, for whom it was created, so the soul in sin can rest nowhere but in Hell, which by, reason of its sins, has become its end. Therefore, at that instant in which the soul separates from the body, it goes to its prescribed place, needing no other guide than the nature of the sin itself, if the soul has parted from the body in mortal sin. And if the soul were hindered from obeying that decree (proceeding from the justice of God), it would find itself in a yet deeper Hell, for it would be outside of the divine order, in which mercy always finds place and prevents the full infliction of all the pains the soul has merited. Finding, therefore, no spot more fitting, nor any in which her pains would be so slight, she casts herself into her appointed place. “The same thing is true of Purgatory: the soul, leaving the body, and not finding in herself that purity in which she was created, and seeing also the hindrances which prevent her union with God, conscious also that Purgatory only can remove them, casts herself quickly and willingly therein. And if she did not find the means ordained for her purification, she would instantly create for herself a Hell worse than Purgatory, seeing that by reason of this impediment she is hindered from approaching her end, which is God; and this is so great an ill that in comparison with it the soul esteems Purgatory as nothing. True it is, as I have said, like Hell; and yet, in comparison with the loss of God it is as nothing. CHAPTER 8 Of the necessity of Purgatory, and of its terrific character “I will say furthermore: I see that as far as God is concerned, paradise has no gates, but he who will may enter. For God is all mercy, and His open arms are ever extended to receive us into His glory. But I see that the divine essence is so pure—purer than the imagination can conceive—that the soul, finding in itself the slightest imperfection, would rather cast itself into a thousand Hells than appear, so stained, in the presence of the divine majesty. Knowing, then, that Purgatory was intended for her cleaning, she throws herself therein, and finds there that great mercy, the removal of her stains. “The great importance of Purgatory, neither mind can conceive nor tongue describe. I see only that its pains are as great as those of Hell; and yet I see that a soul, stained with the slightest fault, receiving this mercy, counts its pains as naught in comparison with this hindrance to her love. And I know that the greatest misery of the souls in Purgatory is to behold in themselves aught that displeases God, and to discover that, in spite of His goodness, they had consented to it. And this is because, being in the state of grace, they see the reality and the importance of the impediments which hinder their approach to God. CHAPTER 9 How God and the soul reciprocally regard each other in Purgatory.—The saint confesses that she has no words to express these things. “All these things that I have said, in comparison with those which have been represented to my mind (as far as I have been able to comprehend them in this life), are of such magnitude that every idea, every word, every feeling, every imagination, all the justice and all the truth that can be said of them, seem false and worthless, and I remain confounded at the impossibility of finding words to describe them. “I behold such a great conformity between God and the soul, that when He finds her pure as when His divine majesty first created her He gives her an attractive force of ardent love which would annihilate her if she were not immortal. He so transforms her into Himself that, forgetting all, she no longer sees aught beside Him; and He continues to draw her toward Him, inflames her with love, and never leaves her until He has brought her to that state from whence she first came forth, that is, to the perfect purity in which she was created. “When the soul beholds within herself the amorous flame by which she is drawn toward her sweet Master and her God, the burning heat of love overpowers her and she melts. Then, in that divine light she sees how God, by His great care and constant providence, never ceases to attract her to her last perfection, and that He does so through pure love alone. She sees, too, that she herself, clogged by sin, cannot follow that attraction toward God, that is, that reconciling glance which He casts upon her that He may draw her to Himself. Moreover, a comprehension of that great misery, which it is to be hindered from gazing upon the light of God, is added to the instinctive desire of the soul to be wholly free to yield herself to that unifying flame. I repeat, it is the view of all these things which causes the pain of the suffering souls in Purgatory, not that they esteem their pains as great (cruel though they be), but they count as far worse, that opposition, which they find in themselves, to the will of that God, whom they behold burning for them with so ardent and so pure a love. “This love, with its unifying regard, is ever drawing these souls, as if it had no other thing to do; and when the soul beholds this, if she could find a yet more painful Purgatory in which she could be more quickly cleansed, she would plunge at once therein, impelled by the burning, mutual love between herself and God. |
THE LIFE OF ST. CATHERINE OF GENOA : Part 3
The time came when the directors of the great hospital in Genoa asked Catherine to superintend the care of the sick in this institution. She accepted, and hired near the hospital a poor house in which she and her husband lived out the rest of their days. Her prayers were still long and regular and her raptures frequent, but she so arranged that neither her devotions nor her ecstasies interfered with her care of the sick. Although she was humbly submissive even to the hospital servants, the directors saw the value of her work and appointed her rector of the hospital with unlimited powers. In 1497, she nursed her husband through his last illness. In his will he extolled her virtues and left her all his possessions. Mrs. Charlotte Balfour underlined in her copy of the saint’s works an indicative extract from her teaching. “We should not wish for anything but what comes to us from moment to moment,” Saint Catherine told her spiritual children, “exercising ourselves none the less for good. For he who would not thus exercise himself, and await what God sends, would tempt God. When we have done what good we can, let us accept all that happens to us by Our Lord’s ordinance, and let us unite ourselves to it by our will. Who tastes what it is to rest in union with God will seem to himself to have won to Paradise even in this life.” She was still only fifty-three years old when she fell ill, worn out by her life of ecstasies, her burning love for God, labor for her fellow creatures and her privations; during her last ten years on earth she suffered much. She died on the 15th of September, 1510, at the age of sixty-three. The public cult rendered to her was declared legitimate on the 6th of April, 1675. The process for her canonization was instituted by the directors of the hospital in Genoa where she had worked. Her heroic virtue and the authenticity of many miracles attributed to her having been proved, the bull for her canonization was issued by Pope Clement XII, on the 30th of April, 1737. Saint Catherine’s authorship of the Treatise on Purgatory has never been disputed. But Baron von Hugel in his monumental work the “Mystical Element in Religion as Studied in Saint Catherine of Genoa and her Friends” concludes convincingly, after a meticulous examination of the “Dialogue of the Blessed and Seraphic Saint Catherine of Genoa,” that its author was Battista Vernazza: “The entire Dialogue then is the work of Battista Vernazza.” Thus this work is not, as has been thought, the saint’s spiritual autobiography, nor indeed does it ever claim to be other than what it is, her spiritual biography. It is the life of her soul, dramatized by a younger woman who had known her and her intimates, who had a singular devotion to her, and who was peculiarly qualified to understand her experience. (to be continued) |
TREATISE ON PURGATORY (Part Four)
The divine fire which St. Catherine experienced in herself, made her comprehend the state of souls in Purgatory, and that they are contented there although in torment. CHAPTER 10 How God makes use of Purgatory to complete the purification of the soul.—That she acquires therein a purity so great that if she were yet to remain after her purification she would cease to suffer. “From that furnace of divine love I see rays of fire dart like burning lamps towards the soul; and so violent and powerful are they that both soul and body would be utterly destroyed, if that were possible. These rays perform a double office; they purify and they annihilate. “Consider gold: the oftener it is melted, the more pure does it become; continue to melt it and every imperfection is destroyed. This is the effect of fire on all materials. The soul, however, cannot be annihilated in God, but in herself she can, and the longer her purification lasts, the more perfectly does she die to herself, until at length she remains purified in God. “When gold has been completely freed from dross, no fire, however great, has any further action on it, for nothing but its imperfections can be consumed. So it is with the divine fire in the soul. God retains her in these flames until every stain is burned away, and she is brought to the highest perfection of which she is capable, each soul in her own degree. And when this is accomplished, she rests wholly in God. Nothing of herself remains, and God is her entire being. When He has thus led her to Himself and purified her, she is no longer passable, for nothing remains to be consumed. If when thus refined she should again approach the fire she would feel no pain, for to her it has become the fire of divine love, which is life eternal and which nothing mars. CHAPTER 11 The desire of souls in Purgatory to be purified from every stain of sin.—The wisdom of God in veiling from them their defects. “At her creation the soul received all the means of attaining perfection of which her nature was capable, in order that she might conform to the will of God and keep herself from contracting any stain; but being directly contaminated by Original Sin she loses her gifts and graces and even her life. Nor can she be regenerated save by the help of God, for even after baptism her inclination to evil remains, which, if she does not resist it, disposes and leads her to mortal sin, through which she dies anew. “God again restores her by a further special grace; yet, she is still so sullied and so bent on herself, that to restore her to her primitive innocence, all those divine operations which I have described are needful, and without them she could never be restored. When the soul has reentered the path which leads to her first estate, she is inflamed with so burning a desire to be transformed into God, that in it she finds her Purgatory. Not, indeed, that she regards her Purgatory as being such, but this desire, so fiery and so powerfully repressed, becomes her Purgatory. “This final act of love accomplishes its work alone, finding the soul with so many hidden imperfections, that the mere sight of them, were it presented to her, would drive her to despair. This last operation, however, consumes them all, and when they are destroyed God makes them known to the soul to make her understand the divine action by which her purity was restored. CHAPTER 12 How joy and suffering are united in Purgatory “That which man judges to be perfect, in the sight of God is defect. For all the works of man, which appear faultless when he considers them feels, remembers, wills and understands them, are, if he does not refer them to God, corrupt and sinful. For, to the perfection of our works it is necessary that they be wrought in us but not of us. In the works of God it is He that is the prime mover, and not man. “These works, which God effects in the soul by Himself alone, which are the last operations of pure and simple love in which we have no merit, so pierce and inflame the soul that the body which envelops her seems to be hiding a fire, or like one in a furnace, who can find no rest but death. It is true that the divine love which overwhelms the soul gives, as I think, a peace greater than can be expressed; yet this peace does not in the least diminish her pains, nay, it is love delayed which occasions them, and they are greater in proportion to the perfection of the love of which God has made her capable. “Thus have these souls in Purgatory great pleasure and great pain; nor does the one impede the other. |
THE LIFE OF ST. CATHERINE OF GENOA : Part 4
Baron von Hugel believed that Saint Catherine first became acquainted with the Genoese notary, Ettore Vernazza, during the epidemic in Genoa in 1493, that is nineteen years after her conversion, when she was forty-six years old and he in his early twenties. She wrote of “a great compassion he had conceived when still very young, at the time the pestilence raged in Genoa, when he used to go about to help the poor”. Von Hugel describes him, after profound study of his life and works, as “a man of fine and keen, deep and world-embracing mind and heart, of an overflowing, ceaseless activity, and of a will of steel”. He was “the most intimate, certainly the most perceptive of Catherine’s disciples” and with Cattaneo Marabotto wrote the earliest life of her. In 1496 he married Bartolomea Ricci, and they had three daughters of whom the eldest, Tommasa, had Saint Catherine for godmother. Little Tommasa was a sensitive, loving, bright child with a turn for writing, as she shewed in a few simple lines of verse which she wrote to her “most holy protectress” and “adored mother” when she was only ten. Was she addressing her godmother, or her mother in the flesh who died not long afterwards? Her father, after his wife’s death, sent her and her little sister Catetta to board in that convent of Augustinian canonesses in which Saint Catherine had not been allowed to take the veil. Perhaps the nuns had been taught by the saint that very young girls may have a true vocation to religion, for Tommasa was only thirteen when, on the 24th of June, 1510, she received in their house the habit of an Augustinian Canoness of the Lateran and changed her name to Battista. She spent all the rest of her ninety years on earth in that convent in Genoa. Twelve weeks after her reception Saint Catherine died, and Baron von Hugel tentatively identifies Battista with an unnamed nun to whom, and to six other friends and disciples of the saint, Battista’s father among them, “intimations and communications of her passage and instant complete union with God” were vouchsafed at the moment of her death. Battista’s literary remains include many letters, poetry--both spiritual canticles and sonnets, and several volumes of spiritual dissertations in which are “all but endless parallels and illustrations” to the teachings of Saint Catherine. She wrote also three sets of “Colloquies,” and in one of them relates certain of her own spiritual experiences. In all her writings, but especially in these narrations, Baron von Hugel notes the influence of Catherine’s doctrine and spiritual practices. (to be continued) |
TREATISE ON PURGATORY (Part Five)
The divine fire which St. Catherine experienced in herself, made her comprehend the state of souls in Purgatory, and that they are contented there although in torment. CHAPTER 13 The souls in Purgatory are not in a state to merit.—How they regard the suffrages offered for them in this world. “If by repentance, the souls in Purgatory could purify themselves, a moment would suffice to cancel their whole debt, so overwhelming would be the force of the contrition produced by the clear vision they have of the magnitude of every obstacle which hinders them from God, their love and their final end. “And, know for certain that not one farthing of their debt is remitted to these souls. This is the decree of divine justice; it is thus that God wills. But, on the other hand, these souls have no longer any will apart from that of God, and can neither see nor desire aught but by His appointment. “And if pious offerings be made for them, by persons in this world, they cannot now note them with satisfaction, unless, indeed, in reference to the will of God and the balance of His justice, leaving to Him the ordering of the whole, who repays Himself as best pleases His infinite goodness. Could they regard these alms apart from the divine will concerning them, this would be a return to self, which would shut from their view the will of God, and that would be to them like Hell. Therefore they are unmoved by whatever God gives them, whether it be pleasure or pain, nor can they ever again revert to self.” CHAPTER 14 Of the submission of the souls in Purgatory to the will of God “So hidden and transformed in God are they, that they rest content with all His holy will. And if a soul, retaining the slightest stain, were to draw near to God in the beatific vision, it would be to her a more grievous injury, and inflict more suffering, than Purgatory itself. Nor could God Himself, who is pure goodness and supreme justice, and the sight of God, not yet entirely satisfied (so long as the least possible purification remained to be accomplished) would be intolerable to her, and she would cast herself into the deepest Hell rather than stand before Him and be still impure.” CHAPTER 15 Reproaches of the soul in Purgatory to persons in this world "And thus this blessed Soul, illuminated by the divine ray, said: “Would that I could utter so strong a cry that it would strike all men with terror, and say to them: O wretched beings! Why are you so blinded by this world that you make, as you will find at the hour of death, no provision for the great necessity that will then come upon you? “You shelter yourselves beneath your hope in the mercy of God, which you unceasingly exalt, not seeing that it is your resistance to His great goodness which will be your condemnation. His goodness should constrain you to do His will, not encourage you to persevere in your own. Since His justice is unfailing it must needs be in some way fully satisfied. “Have not the boldness to say: ‘I will go to confession and gain a plenary indulgence and thus I shall be saved.’ Remember that the full confession and entire contrition which are requisite to gain a plenary indulgence are not easily attained. Did you know how hardly they are come by, you would tremble with fear and be more sure of losing than of gaining them. |
THE LIFE OF ST. CATHERINE OF GENOA : Part 5
The Dialogue reproduces the incidents of the saint’s spiritual life as these are recorded in her earliest biography, and its doctrine is that embodied in the Treatise on Purgatory and in her recorded sayings, from which even its language is in large part derived. That its matter has passed through another mind, Battista’s, gives it an added interest: there is the curious, vivid dramatization; there is, in some passages, a poignant and individual quality; and there is an insight which proves that Battista herself was also a mystic, one who had spent all her days in the spiritual companionship of Saint Catherine. We are shewn not only the saint but also her reflection in the mirror which was Battista’s mind. “A person”, says Von Hugel, speaking of Battista at the time when she wrote the Dialogue“living now thirty-eight years after Catherine’s death, in an environment of a kind to preserve her memory green.... Battista, the goddaughter of the heroine of the work, and the eldest, devoted daughter of the chief contributor to the already extant biography; a contemplative with a deep interest in, and much practical experience of, the kind of spirituality to be portrayed and the sort of literature required; a nun during thirty-eight years in the very convent where Catherine’s sister, one of its foundresses, had lived and died, and where Catherine herself had desired to live and where her conversion had taken place.” The Dialogue, long generally accepted as Catherine’s own account of her spiritual life, has been allowed by the highest authorities to embody, with her Treatise on Purgatory, the saint’s doctrine. These two treatises and the earliest biography, translated into several languages, spread that doctrine and devotion to her throughout the Catholic world in the centuries between her death and her canonization. The bull which canonized her alludes to the Dialogue as an exposition of her doctrine: “In her admirable Dialogue she depicts the dangers to which a soul bound by the flesh is exposed.” The Viscount Theodore Marie de Bussierne includes the Dialogue with the Treatise on Purgatory in his translation into French of the saint’s works, published in 1860. It was from this translation that Mrs. Charlotte Balfour translated the first half of the Dialogue into English. She meant to make an English version of all the saint’s works but had worked only on the Dialogue at the time of her death. Her work has been carefully collated with the Italian original and revised where necessary, the edition used being that included in the beautiful “Life and Works” of Saint Catherine which was printed in Rome in 1737, the year of her canonization, by Giovanni Battista de Caporali, and dedicated to Princess Vittoria Altoviti de’ Corsini, the Pope’s niece. As here printed, the whole Dialogue may be regarded as translated from Battista Venazza’s original work. Mrs. Balfour would certainly have wished to acknowledge her debt to Monsieur de Bussierne’s French version. The latter part of the Dialogue and the whole Treatise on Purgatory have been directly translated from the 1737 Italian edition of the saint’s works. Saint Catherine’s earliest biography concludes with the following words: “It remains for us to pray the Lord, of His great goodness and by the intercession of this glorious Seraphim, to give us His love abundantly, that we may not cease to grow in virtue, and may at last win to eternal beatitude with God who lives and reigns for ever and ever.” THE END |
TREATISE ON PURGATORY (Part Six)
The divine fire which St. Catherine experienced in herself, made her comprehend the state of souls in Purgatory, and that they are contented there although in torment. CHAPTER 16 Showing that the sufferings of the souls in Purgatory do not prevent their peace and joy. “I see that the souls in Purgatory behold a double operation. The first is that of the mercy of God; for while they suffer their torments willingly, they perceive that God has been very good to them, considering what they have deserved and how great are their offenses in His eyes. For if His goodness did not temper justice with mercy (satisfying it with the precious blood of Jesus Christ), one sin alone would deserve a thousand Hells. They suffer their pains so willingly that they would not lighten them in the least, knowing how justly they have been deserved. They resist the will of God no more than if they had already entered upon eternal life. “The other operation is that satisfaction they experience in beholding how loving and merciful have been the divine decrees in all that regards them. In one instant God impresses these two things upon their minds, and as they are in grace they comprehend them as they are, yet each according to her capacity. They experience thence a great and never-failing satisfaction which constantly increases as they approach to God. They see all things, not in themselves, nor by themselves, but as they are in God, on whom they are more intent than on their sufferings. For the least vision they can have of God overbalances all woes and all joys that can be conceived. Yet their joy in God does by no means abate their pain. CHAPTER 17 Which concludes with an application of all that has been said concerning the souls in Purgatory to what the saint experiences in her own soul. “This process of purification, to which I see the souls in Purgatory subjected, I feel within myself, and have experienced it for the last two years. Every day I see and feel it more clearly. My soul seems to live in this body as in a Purgatory which resembles the true Purgatory, with only the difference that my soul is subjected to only so much suffering as the body can endure without dying, but which will continually and gradually increase until death. “I feel my spirit alienated from all things (even spiritual ones) that might afford it nourishment, or give it consolation. I have no relish for either temporal or spiritual goods through the will, the understanding, or the memory, nor can I say that I take greater satisfaction in this thing than in that. “I have been so besieged interiorly, that all things which refreshed my spiritual or my bodily life have been gradually taken from me, and as they departed, I learned that they were all sources of consolation and support. Yet, as soon as they were discovered by the spirit they became tasteless and hateful; they vanish and I care not to prevent it. This is because the spirit instinctively endeavors to rid itself of every hindrance to its perfection, and so resolutely that it would rather go to Hell than fail in its purpose. It persists, therefore, in casting off all things by which the inner man might nourish himself, and so jealously guards him, that no slightest imperfection can creep in without being instantly detected and expelled. “As for the outward man, for the reason that the spirit has no correspondence with it, it is so oppressed that nothing on earth can give it comfort according to its human inclinations. No consolation remains to it but God, who, with great love and mercy accomplishes this work for the satisfaction of His justice. I perceive all this, and it gives me a great peace and satisfaction; but this satisfaction does by no means diminish my oppression or my pain. Nor could there possibly befall me a pain so great, that it could move me to swerve from the divine ordination, or leave my prison, or wish to leave it until God is satisfied, nor could I experience any woe so great as would be an escape from His divine decree, so merciful and so full of justice do I find it. “I see these things clearly, but words fail me to describe them as I wish. What I have described is going on within my spirit, and therefore I have said it. The prison which detains me is the world; my chains, the body; the soul, illuminated by grace, comprehends how great a misery it is to be hindered from her final end, and she suffers greatly because she is very tender. She receives from God, by His grace, a certain dignity which assimilates her to Him, nay, which makes her one with Him by the participation of His goodness. And as it is impossible for God to suffer any pain, it is so also with those happy souls who are drawing nearer to Him. The more closely they approach Him the more fully do they share in His perfections. “Any delay, then, causes the soul intolerable pain. The pain and the delay prevent the full action both of what is hers by nature, and of that which has been revealed to her by grace; and, not able as yet to possess and still essentially capable of possessing, her pain is great in proportion to her desire of God. The more perfectly she knows Him, the more ardent is her desire, and the more sinless is she. The impediments that bar her from Him become all the more terrible to her, because she is so wholly bent on Him, and when not one of these is left she knows Him as He is. “As a man who suffers death, rather than offend God, does not become insensible to the pains of death, but is so illuminated by God that his zeal for the divine honor is greater than his love for life, so the soul, knowing the will of God, esteems it more than all outward or inward torments, however terrible; and this for the reason that God, for whom and by whom the work is done, is infinitely more desirable than all else that can be known or understood. And inasmuch as God keeps the soul absorbed in Himself and in His majesty, even though it be only in a slight degree, yet she can attach no importance to anything beside. She loses in Him all that is her own, and can neither see nor speak, nor yet be conscious of any injury or pain she suffers, but as I have said before it is all understood in one moment as she passes from this life. And finally, to conclude all, understand well, that in the almighty and merciful God, all that is in man is wholly transformed, and that Purgatory purifies him.” THE END |
A Mass Could Clear-Out Purgatory!
Let me remind you, that it was not by mere accident I told you before, that a single Mass, as far as itself is concerned, and in the sense of its intrinsic value, is sufficient to clear Purgatory of all the souls that are being purified there, nay, and to send them straight to Paradise; since the Divine Sacrifice is not only beneficial to the souls of the defunct, as propitiatory and satisfactory of their penance, but it also avails them as supplicatory, or, in other words, it obtains for them remission of the Purgatorial pains. Hence, the usage of the Church, which not only offers the Holy Mass for the souls in Purgatory, but prays in the Holy Sacrifice for their liberation; and in order that you may be excited to commiserate those holy souls, excluded for a while from the Beatific Vision, let me warn you, that the fire in which they are plunged is as devouring a fire, and nowise less dreadfully intense than that of Hell. The Pains of Purgatory This assertion is made on the authority of St. Gregory the Great, who, in his Dialogues, informs us, that “the flames of Purgatory are, as it were, the instrument of divine justice, operating with such terrible power as to render the agony of the souls detained there intolerable. These pains,” continues the Saint: “far exceed all the tribulations, nay, and martyrdoms that can be witnessed, felt, or imagined in this life;” but far more excruciating to them is the pain of loss, or in other words, the temporary exclusion from the beatific vision of God, which, according to the Angelic Doctor (St. Thomas), tortures them with an indescribable agony; a fierce and burning thirst to behold the Supreme Good that is denied to their yearnings. So What About You? Here now enter into your own heart, and weigh well what I am going to say. If it so happened, that you beheld your own father or mother drowning in a pool of water, and if you could save them by merely stretching out your hand, would you not consider yourself bound by the law of charity and of justice to stretch out your hand for their rescue? And how do you act? Aided by the light of Faith, you behold many and many a poor soul immersed in the sea of Purgatorial fires, nay, you behold, it may be, the souls of your nearest and dearest kinsfolk so circumstanced, and yet, will you be so heartless as not to bear the trifling inconvenience of assisting devoutly at one Mass for their release, or the alleviation of their agonies? What sort of a heart have you? Surely you cannot doubt, that even a single Mass can bring exceeding great comfort to those poor souls? Think of This! If (which God forbid) you have any doubt on this subject, let the words of St. Jerome, who deserves your firmest belief, bring conviction to your soul, and awaken in it a holy compassion. Ponder well what this holy Doctor of the Church tells you: “The souls in Purgatory, for whose comfort the priest offers the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, suffer no torment while Mass is being celebrated.” Nay more, he adds, that “at every Mass many souls are liberated from Purgatory, and ascend to Heaven.” The Example of St. Peter Damian Bear in mind also, that this charity or holy compassion for the poor souls in Purgatory will redound to your own good; and, although I might adduce many proofs in confirmation of this truth, I will confine myself to one well authenticated in the Life of St. Peter Damian. This holy servant of God, when a mere youngster, after losing his parents, was taken into the house of his brother, who treated him very cruelly, compelling him to go barefoot, ragged, and subjecting him to every sort of the most squalid poverty. It so happened, that one day he found a trifling coin, I know not of what value. I leave you to imagine whether he rejoiced or not. As for himself, it seemed to him that he had lit upon a treasure. But how was he to spend it? His pitiable condition, so poor, and so cheerless, suggested to him many ways of employing the money which he had found; but after pondering the matter over and over again in his mind, he resolved to give the coin to a priest, as an alms for celebrating Mass for the holy souls in Purgatory. Well, will you believe it?! From that day forward his fortune was changed for the better, for he was adopted by another brother of amiable disposition, who took him into his house, treated him as his own child, clothed him comfortably and sent him to school, whence he afterwards came forth that great man and saint, an ornament to the red of Cardinals, and one of the most illustrious pillars of the Church―St. Peter Damian. |
Grateful Poor Souls!
Now, you see how in one single Mass, which this holy personage caused to be celebrated at some trifling inconvenience, all this happiness had its origin. Oh, most Holy Mass, that at one and the same time benefits the living and dead! Oh, most Holy Sacrifice, so replete with blessings for time and for eternity! For you must bear in mind, that the souls in Purgatory are so grateful to their benefactors, that on being admitted into Heaven, they become their advocates, never ceasing in their holy petitions till they see them in possession of glory. The Example of a Sinner A singular proof of what I have here laid down is narrated in the history of a woman—a native of Rome—who for many years led a scandalous life, indulging her passions, and corrupting youth. Nevertheless, notwithstanding the infamy of her career, this unfortunate sinner very frequently caused Mass to be celebrated for the souls in Purgatory; and this, indeed, was the only good she ever did. Now, as we may piously believe, it was these souls who interceded so effectually for their benefactress, that she one day was seized with heartfelt sorrow for her sins--sorrow so vehement that she abandoned wickedness, flung herself at the feet of a zealous priest, made a good general confession, and died soon afterwards with such dispositions as left no doubt of her eternal salvation. This grace of conversion and happy death, so truly marvelous, was attributed by many to the virtue of the Masses which she caused to be celebrated for the holy souls in Purgatory. Let us, therefore, cast off tepidity, and be on our guard, lest “publicans and harlots go into the kingdom of God before us” (Matthew 21:31). Hard-Hearted Miser? If, unhappily, you were one of those hard-hearted misers, who not only lack common charity, neglecting to pray for their deceased friends, never assisting at a single Mass offered for the souls in Purgatory, and what is still worse, trampling on every dictate of justice, by refusing to pay the pious legacies, bequeathed by their predecessors for Masses; or if you were one of those priests who accumulate large sums given for Masses, which they neglect to celebrate―Oh, with what earnestness I would say to your face: “Begone, for you are worse than the worst devils; aye, infinitely worse, since the demons torment none but reprobate souls, whereas you torment the souls of the elect. No, there is no confession that can avail you; no absolution for you that is valid; nay, no confessor that can absolve you, if you do not repent sincerely of so tremendous a crime, and if you do not satisfy, to the last farthing, the obligations that you have contracted with the departed!” "But I Can't Afford It!" But you will say to me: “Father, I cannot—I have not the means!” What! You cannot, because you have not the means! But you have means to make fashionable display—means to gratify luxurious and voluptuous tastes—means to lavish on rich feastings, in country-houses, balls, merry-makings, sometimes in the public-house, and sometimes in the horrid dens of vice! But to satisfy your obligations to the living, and what is more, to the poor deceased, you have not the means, you cannot! For shame! But I now understand you rightly, and let me tell you that although there is no one on Earth to take you to task for this robbery of the dead, you shall, one day, have to square the account with God, at the bar of His judgment. Go on frustrating the intentions of the deceased, appropriating to yourselves their pious bequests, the monies they bequeathed for Masses, but remember that the oracle of the prophet has registered against you a terrible menace of misfortunes, sickness, worldly reverses, appalling calamities, and irreparable ruin of your substance, life, and honor. Beware the Wrath of God Yes, so hath God declared, and He will be true to His word. “They ate the sacrifices of the dead—thus they provoked him to anger.” (Psalm 105:28). Yes, yes! Ruin, disgrace, and woes without remedy shall overtake those who do not satisfy their obligations to the dead! With good reason, therefore, did the fourth Council of Carthage pronounce all those, guilty of this crime, excommunicated, branding them as murderers of their neighbors; and let me add, that the Council of Valence declared that they should be expelled from the Church like infidels. And yet, this is by no means the severest punishment that God inflicts on those whose hearts cherish no love for their deceased brethren! Ah, no! The full measure of their punishment is reserved for the other world, for St. James declares, that they shall be judged by God with all the rigor of His justice—without a single particle of mercy, because they showed no mercy to the poor departed. “Judgment without mercy to him that hath not done mercy!” (James 2:13). As You Sow, So Shall You Reap! Nay, more, God will permit that their successors shall pay them in the same coin; that is, their last wishes shall not be fulfilled, neither shall the Masses, for which they have provided in their wills, be celebrated; or if celebrated, God will not accept them for their souls’ sake, but will turn them to the relief and release of deserving souls, who, during their mortal term, had pitying and prayerful hearts for their deceased brethren. It is related in the Chronicles of our [Franciscan] Order, that one of our friars appeared, after death, to a companion, and showed him the marks of the bitter punishment he had to endure in Purgatory, particularly because he had been negligent in celebrating Masses for his deceased Brothers. He likewise declared, that all that had been done for him up to that moment was of no avail to him, and that the very Masses which had been offered for his repose afforded no benefit to him, because God, in punishment of his negligence, had applied them to other souls, who, while on Earth, acted compassionately to their brethren in Purgatory. |
Fr. Frederick William Faber was born in England, 1814; ordained for the Church of England, 1839; received into Catholic Church, 1845; joined Cardinal Newman’s Oratory, 1848; died, 1863.
There have always been two views of Purgatory prevailing in the Church, not contradictory the one of the other, but rather expressive of the mind and devotion of those who have embraced them. The first view is embodied in the terrifying sermons of the Italian Quaresimali, and in those wayside pictures which so often provoke the fastidiousness of the English traveler. It loves to represent Purgatory as a Hell which is not eternal. Violence, confusion, wailing, horror, preside over its descriptions. It dwells, and truly, on the terribleness of the pain of sense which the soul is mysteriously permitted to endure. The fire is the same fire as that of Hell, created for the single and express purpose of giving torture. Our earthly fire is as painted fire compared to it. Besides this, there is a special and indefinable horror to the unbodied soul in becoming the prey of this material agony. The sense of imprisonment, close and intolerable, and the intense palpable darkness, are additional features in the horror of the scene, which prepare us for that sensible neighborhood to Hell, which many Saints have spoken of as belonging to Purgatory. Angels are represented as active executioners of God’s awful justice. Some have even held that the demons are permitted to touch and harass the spouses of Christ in those ardent fires. Then to this terribleness of the pain of sense, is added the dreadfulness of the pain of loss. The beauty of God remains in itself the same immensely desirable object it ever was. But the soul is changed. All that in life and in the world of sense dulled its desires after God is gone from it, so that it seeks Him with an impetuosity which no imagination can at all conceive. The very burning excess of its love becomes the measure of its intolerable pain. What love can do even on earth we learn from the example of Father John Baptist Sanchez, who said he was sure he should die of misery, if any morning he rose he should know that he was certain not to die that day. To those horrors we might add many more which depict Purgatory simply as a Hell which is not eternal. The second view of Purgatory does not deny any one of the features of the preceding view, but it almost puts them out of sight by the other considerations which it brings more prominently forward. It goes into Purgatory with its eyes fascinated and its spirit sweetly tranquilized, by the face of Jesus, its sight of the Sacred Humanity at the particular Judgment which it has undergone. That vision abides with it still, and beautifies the uneven terrors of its prison as if with perpetual silvery showers of moonlight which seem to fall from Our Savior’s loving eyes. In the sea of fire it holds fast by that image. The moment that in His sight it perceives its own unfitness for Heaven, it wings its voluntary flight to Purgatory, like a dove to her proper nest in the shadows of the forest. There need be no Angels to convey it thither. It is its own free worship of the purity of God. In that moment the soul loves God most tenderly, and in return is most tenderly loved by Him. The soul is in punishment, true; but it is in unbroken union with God. It has no remembrance,‖says St. Catherine of Genoa most positively, no remembrance at all of its past sins or of earth.‖ Its sweet prison, its holy sepulcher, is in the adorable will of its heavenly Father, and there it abides the term of its purification with the most perfect contentment and the most unutterable love. As it is not teased by any vision of self or sin, so neither is it harassed by an atom of fear, or by a single doubt of its own imperturbable security. It is impeccable; and there was a time on earth when that gift alone seemed as if it would contain all Heaven in itself. It cannot commit the slightest imperfection. It cannot have the least movement of impatience. It can do nothing whatever which will in the least displease God. It loves God above everything, and it loves Him with a pure and disinterested love. It is constantly consoled by Angels, and cannot but rejoice in the confirmed assurance of its own salvation. Nay; its very bitterest agonies are accompanied by a profound unshaken peace, such as the language of this world has no words to tell. No sooner has a soul, with the guilt of no mortal sin upon it, but owing to God a debt of temporal punishment, issued from the world, and been judged, than it perceives itself to be confirmed in grace and charity (according to St. Catherine). It is incapable either of sinning or of meriting anymore; and it is destined by an eternal and immutable decree to enter one day as a queen into the kingdom of the blessed, to see, to love, and to enjoy God, the perpetual fountain of all felicity. In that instant all the sins of its past are represented to the soul, whether mortal or venial, even though they have been remitted in lifetime by Contrition and the Sacrament of Penance. But after this transitory and instantaneous view of them, the soul remembers nothing more about them. The Saints’ words are: The cause of Purgatory, which these souls have in themselves, they see once for all, in passing out of this life, and never afterwards |
The reason of this exhibition of sins is, she teaches us, to enable the soul in that moment, by an act, no longer indeed meritorious, but nevertheless a real act of the will, to detest all its sins afresh, and especially those venial sins for which it had not contrition in lifetime, either through the weakness of an imperfect heart, or through the accident of a sudden death, that so it may be strictly true, that no sin whatever is pardoned unless the sinner makes an act of detestation of it.
After this momentary view of sins and formal detestation of them, the soul perceives in itself their evil consequences and malignant legacies, and these form what the Saint calls the impediment of seeing God. The rust of sin, she says, is the impediment, and the fire keeps consuming the rust; and as a thing which is covered cannot correspond to the re-verberation of the sun’s rays, so, if the covering be consumed, the thing is at length laid open to the sun. As soon as the soul perceives itself to be acceptable to God, and constituted heir of paradise, but unable, because of this impediment, to take immediate possession of its inheritance, it conceives an intense desire to be rid of this hindrance, this double obligation of guilt and punishment. But knowing that Purgatory alone can consume these two obligations, and that it is for that very end God condemns the soul to fire, it desires itself to endure the punishment. The soul separated from the body (these are the Saint’s words), not finding in itself this impediment which cannot be taken away except by Purgatory, at once throws itself into it with right good will. Nay, if it did not find this ordinance of Purgatory aptly contrived for the removal of this hindrance, there would instantaneously be generated in it a Hell far worse than Purgatory, inasmuch as it would see that because of this impediment it could not unite itself to God Who is its end. Wherefore, if the soul could find another Purgatory fiercer than this, in which it could the sooner get rid of this impediment, it would speedily plunge itself therein, through the impetuosity of the love it bears to God. But this is not all. The Saint goes on to teach that if the soul, laboring under this impediment, were free to choose between ascending at once, as it is, to paradise, and descending to suffer in Purgatory, it would choose to suffer, although the sufferings be almost as dreadful as those of Hell. These are her words: “Of how much importance Purgatory is no tongue can tell, no mind conceive. So much I see, that its pain is almost as if it were that of Hell; and yet I see also that the soul which perceives in itself the slightest flaw or mote of imperfection, would rather throw itself into a thousand Hells, than find itself in the presence of the divine Majesty with that defect upon it; and, therefore, seeing Purgatory to be ordained for the very taking away of these flaws, forthwith it plunges into it, and it seems by its bearing, as I see, to conceive that it finds there an invention of no little mercy, simply in the being able to get rid of this impediment.” “When the righteous soul has thus arrived in Purgatory, losing sight of everything else, it sees before it only two objects—the extremity of suffering, and the extremity of joys. A most tremendous pain is caused by knowing that God loves it with an infinite love, that He is the Chief Good, that He regards the soul as His daughter, and that He has predestined it to enjoy Him forever in company with the Blessed: and hence the soul loves Him with a pure and most perfect charity. At the same time it perceives that it cannot see Him or enjoy Him yet, though it so intensely yearns to do so; and this afflicts it so much the more, as it is quite uncertain when the term of its penal exile, away from its Lord and paradise, will be fulfilled. This is the pain of loss in Purgatory, of which the Saint says that "it is a pain so extreme, that no tongue can tell it, no understanding grasp the least portion of it. Though God in His favor showed me a little spark thereof, yet can I not in any way express it with my tongue.” Now let us examine the other object, the extremity of joy. As it loves God with the purest affection, and knows its sufferings to be the will of God in order to procure its purification, it conforms itself perfectly to the divine decree. While in Purgatory, it sees nothing but that this pleases God; it takes in no idea but that of His will; it apprehends nothing so clearly as the suitableness of this purification, in order to present it all fair and lovely to so great a majesty. Thus, the Saint says: “If a soul, having still something left to be cleansed away, were presented to the Vision of God, it would be worse than that of ten purgatories; for it would be quite unable to endure that excessive goodness and that exquisite justice. "Hence it is that the suffering soul is entirely resigned to the will of its Creator. It loves its very pains, and rejoices in them because they are a holy ordinance of God. Thus in the midst of the ardent heats it enjoys a contentment so complete that it exceeds the grasp of human intelligence to comprehend it. I do not believe that it is possible to find a contentment to compare with that of the souls in Purgatory, unless it be the contentment of the Saints in paradise. This contentment increases daily through the influx of God into those souls, and this influx increases in proportion as the impediment is consumed and worn away. Indeed, so far as the will is concerned, we can hardly say that the pains are pains at all, so contentedly do the souls rest in the ordinance of God, to whose will pure love unites them.” In another place, St. Catherine says that this inexplicable jubilee of the soul, while it is undergoing Purgatory springs from the strength and purity of its love of God. “This love gives to the soul such a contentment as cannot be expressed. But this contentment does not take away one iota from the pain; nay, it is the retarding of love from the possession of its object which causes the pain; and the pain is greater according to the greater perfection of love of which God has made the soul capable. Thus the souls in Purgatory have at once the greatest contentment and the greatest suffering; and the one in no way hinders the other.” As to prayers, alms, and Masses, she asserts that the souls experience great consolation from them; but that in these, as in other matters, their principal solicitude is that everything should be weighed in the most equitable scales of the Divine Will, leaving God to take His own course in everything, and to pay Himself and His justice in the way His own infinite goodness chooses to select. |
When she looked at herself with the light of supernatural illumination, she saw that God had set her up in the Church as an express and living image of Purgatory. She says: “This form of purification, which I behold in the souls in Purgatory, I perceive in my own soul now. I see that my soul dwells in its body as in a Purgatory altogether comformable to the true Purgatory, only in such measure as my body can bear without dying. Nevertheless, it is always increasing by little and little, until it reaches the point when it will really die.”
Her death was indeed most wonderful, and has always been considered as a martyrdom of Divine Love. So truly from the first has her position been appreciated, as the great doctor of Purgatory, that in the old life of her, the vita antica, examined by theologians in 1670, and approved in the Roman process of her canonization, and which was composed by Marabotto, her confessor, and Vernaza, her spiritual son, it is said: “Verily it seems that God set up this His creature as a mirror and an example of the pains of the other life, which souls suffer in Purgatory. It is just as if He had placed her upon a high wall, dividing this life from the life to come; so that, seeing what is suffered in that life beyond, she might manifest to us, even in this life, what we are to expect when we have passed the boundary.” This is a mere epitome of her wonderful and exquisitely beautiful treatise, which has given St. Catherine a rank among the theologians of the Church. I suppose there is none of us who expects to be lost. We know and feel, with more or less of alarm, the greatness of the risk we are running; but to expect to be lost would be the sin of despair. Hell is only practical to us as a motive of greater diligence, greater strictness, greater circumspectness, greater fear. It is not so with Purgatory. I suppose we all expect, or think ourselves sure, to go there. If we do not think much of the matter at all, then we may have some vague notion of going straight to Heaven as soon as we are judged. But if we seriously reflect upon it, upon our own lives, upon God’s sanctity, upon what we read in books of devotion and the lives of the Saints, I can hardly conceive any one of us expecting to escape Purgatory, and not rather feeling that it must be almost a stretch of the divine mercy which will get us even there. It would more likely be vain presumption than heroic hope, if we thought otherwise. Now, if we really expect that our road to Heaven will be through the punishment of Purgatory, for surely its purification is penal, it very much concerns us to know what is common to both the views of Purgatory, which it appears prevail in the Church. First, both these views agree that the pains are extremely severe, as well because of the office which God intends them to fulfil, as because of the disembodied soul being the subject of them. Both agree, also, in the length of the suffering. This requires to be dwelt upon, as it is hard to convince people of it, and a great deal comes of the conviction, both to ourselves and others. This duration may be understood in two ways: first, as of actual length of time, and, secondly, as of seeming length from the excess of pain. With regard to the first, if we look into the revelations of Sister Francesca of Pampeluna, we shall find, among some hundreds of cases, that by far the great majority suffered thirty, forty, or sixty years. |
This disclosure may teach us greater watchfulness over ourselves, and more unwearied perseverance in praying for the departed. The old foundations for perpetual Masses embody the same sentiment. We are apt to leave off too soon, imagining with a foolish and unenlightened fondness that our friends are freed from Purgatory much sooner than they really are. If Sister Francesca beheld the souls of many fervent Carmelites, some of whom had wrought miracles in lifetime still in Purgatory ten, twenty, thirty, sixty years after their death, and still not near their deliverance, as many told her, what must become of us and ours? Then as to seeming length from the extremity of pain, there are many instances on record in the Chronicles of the Franciscans, the life of St. Francis Jerome, and elsewhere, of souls appearing an hour or two after death, and thinking they had been many years in Purgatory. Such may be the Purgatory of those who are caught up to meet the Lord at the Last Day.
Both views agree again in holding that what we in the world call very trivial faults are most severely visited in Purgatory. St. Peter Damian gives us many instances of this, and others are collected and quoted by Bellarmine. Slight feelings of self-complacency, trifling inattentions in the recital of the Divine Office, and the like, occur frequently among them. Sister Francesca mentions the case of a girl of fourteen in Purgatory, because she was not quite conformed to the will of God in dying so young: and one soul said to her: “Ah men little think in the world how dearly they are going to pay here for faults they hardly note there.”‖ She even saw souls that were immensely punished only for having been scrupulous in this life; either, I suppose, because there is mostly self-will in scruples, or because they did not lay them down when obedience commanded. Wrong notions about small faults may thus lead us to neglect the dead, or leave off our prayers too soon, as well as lose a lesson for ourselves. Then, again, both views agree as to the helplessness of the Holy Souls. They lie like the paralytic at the pool. It would seem as if even the coming of the angel were not an effectual blessing to them, unless there be some one of us to help them. Some have even thought they cannot pray. Anyhow, they have no means of making themselves heard by us on whose charity they depend. Some writers have said that Our Blessed Lord will not help them without our co-operation; and that Our Blessed Lady cannot help them, except in indirect ways, because she is no longer able to make satisfaction; though I never like to hear anything our dearest mother cannot do; and I regard such statements with suspicion. Whatever may come of these opinions, they at least illustrate the strong way in which theologians apprehend the helplessness of the Holy Souls. Then another feature in their helplessness is the forgetfulness of the living, or the cruel flattery of relations who will always have it that those near or dear to them die the deaths of Saints. They would surely have a scruple, if they knew of how many Masses and prayers they rob the souls, by the selfish exaggeration of their goodness. I call it selfish, for it is nothing more than a miserable device to console themselves in their sorrow. The very state of the Holy Souls is one of the most unbounded helplessness. They cannot do penance; they cannot merit; they cannot satisfy; they cannot gain indulgences; they have no Sacraments; they are not under the jurisdiction of God’s Vicar, overflowing with the plentitude of means of grace and manifold benedictions. They are a portion of the Church without either priesthood or altar at their own command. Those are the points common to both views of Purgatory; and how manifold are the lessons we learn from them, on our own behalf as well as on behalf of the Holy Souls. For ourselves, what light does all this throw on slovenliness, lukewarmness, and love of ease? What does it make us think of performing our devotions out of a mere spirit of formality, or a trick of habit? What diligence in our examens, confessions, Communions, and prayers! It seems as if the grace of all graces for which we should ever be importuning our dear Lord, would be to hate sin with something of the hatred wherewith He hated it in the garden of Gethsemane. Oh, is not the purity of God something awful, unspeakable, adorable? He, who is Himself a simple act, has gone on acting, multiplying acts since creation, yet he has incurred no stain! He is ever mingling with a most unutterable condescension with what is beneath Him—yet no stain! He loves His creatures with a love immeasurably more intense than the wildest passion of earth— yet no stain! He is omnipotent, yet it is beyond the limits of His power to receive a stain. He is so pure that the very vision of Him causes eternal purity and blessedness. Mary’s purity is but a fair thin shadow of it, and yet we, even we, are to dwell in His arms forever, we are to dwell amid the everlasting burnings of that uncreated purity! Yet, let us look at our lives; let us trace our hearts faithfully through but one day, and see of what mixed intentions, human respects, self-love, and pusillanimous temper our actions, nay, even our devotions, are made up of; and does not Purgatory, heated seven-fold and endured to the day of doom, seem but a gentle novitiate for the Vision of the All-holy? |
some persons turn in anger from the thought of Purgatory, as if it were not to be endured, that after trying all our lives long to serve God, we should accomplish the tremendous feat of a good death, only to pass from the agonies of the death-bed into fire, long, keen, searching, triumphant, incomparable fire. Alas, my dear friends, your anger will not help you nor alter facts! But have you thought sufficiently about God? Have you tried to realize His holiness and purity in assiduous meditation? Is there a real divorce between you and the world which you know is God’s enemy? Do you take God’s side? Are you devoted to His interests? Do you long for His glory? Have you put sin alongside of our dear Saviors’ Passion, and measured the one by the other?
Surely, if you had, Purgatory would but seem to you the last, unexpected, and inexpressibly tender invention of an obstinate love, which was mercifully determined to save you in spite of yourself. It would be a perpetual wonder to you, a joyous wonder, fresh every morning, a wonder that would be meat and drink to your soul, that you, being what you know yourself to be, what God knows you to be, should be saved eternally. Remember what the suffering soul said so simply, yet with such force, to Sister Francesca: "Ah! Those on that side of the grave little reckon how dearly they will pay on this side for the lives they live!” To be angry because you are told you will go to Purgatory! Silly, silly people! Most likely it is a great false flattery, and that you will never be good enough to go there at all. Why, positively, you do not recognize your own good fortune, when you are told of it. And none but the humble go there. I remember Maria Crocifissa was told that although many of the Saints while on earth loved God more than some do even in Heaven, yet that the greatest Saint on earth was not so humble as are the souls in Purgatory. I do not think I ever read anything in the lives of the Saints which struck me so much as that. You see it is not well to be angry; for those only are lucky enough to get into Purgatory who sincerely believe themselves to be worthy of Hell. But we not only learn lessons for our own good, but for the good of the Holy Souls. We see that our charitable attention towards them must be far more vigorous and persevering than they have been; for men go to Purgatory for very little matters, and remain there an unexpectedly long time. But their most touching appeal to us lies in their helplessness; and our dear Lord, with His usual loving arrangement, has made the extent of our power to help them more than commensurate with their ability to help themselves. Some theologians have said that prayer for the Holy Souls is not infallibly answered. I confess their arguments on this head do not convince me; but, conceding the point, how wonderful still is the power which we can exercise in favor of the departed! St. Thomas has at least taught us that prayer for the dead is more readily accepted with God than prayer for the living. We can offer and apply for them all the satisfactions of Our Blessed Lord. We can do vicarious penance for them. We can give to them all the satisfactions of our ordinary actions, and of our sufferings. We can make over to them, by way of suffrage, the indulgences we gain, provided the Church has made them applicable to the dead. We can limit and direct to them, or any one of them, the intention of the Adorable Sacrifice. The Church, which has no jurisdiction over them, can yet make indulgences applicable or inapplicable to them by way of suffrage; and by means of liturgy, commemoration, incense, holy water, and the like, can reach efficaciously to them, and most of all by her device of privileged altars. The Communion of Saints furnishes the veins and channels by which all these things reach them in Christ. Heaven itself condescends to act upon them through earth. Their Queen helps them by setting us to work for them, and the Angels and the Saints bestow their gifts through us, whom they persuade to be their almoners; nay, we are often their almoners without knowing that we are so. Our Blessed Lord vouchsafes to look to us, as if He would say: Here are my weapons, work for me! Just as a father will let his child do a portion of his work, in spite of the risk he runs in having it spoiled. To possess such powers, and not to use them, would be the height of irreverence towards God, as well as of want of charity to men. There is nothing so irreverent, because nothing so unfilial, as to shrink from God’s gifts simply because of their exuberance. Men have a feeling of safety in not meddling with the supernatural; but the truth is, we cannot stand aloof on one side and be safe. Naturalism is the unsafe thing. If we do not enter the system, and humbly take our place in it, it will draw us in, only to tear us to pieces when it has done so. The dread of the supernatural is the unsafest of feelings. The jealousy of it is a prophecy of eternal loss. It is not saying too much to call devotion to the Holy Souls a kind of center in which all Catholic devotions meet, and which satisfies more than any other single devotion our duties in that way; because it is a devotion all of love, and of dis-interested love. If we cast an eye over the chief Catholic devotion, we shall see the truth of this. Take the devotion of St. Ignatius to the glory of God. This, if we may dare to use such an expression of Him, was the special and favorite devotion of Jesus. Now, Purgatory is simply a field white for the harvest of God’s glory. Not a prayer can be said for the Holy Souls, but God is at once glorified, both by the faith and the charity of the mere prayer. Again, what devotion is justly more dear to Christians than the devotion to the Sacred Humanity of Jesus? It is rather a family of various and beautiful devotions, than a devotion by itself. Yet see how they are all, as it were, fulfilled, affectionately fulfilled, in devotion to the Holy Souls. The quicker the souls are liberated from Purgatory, the more is the bountiful harvest of His Blessed Passion multiplied and accelerated. An early harvest is a blessing, as well as a plentiful one; for all delay of a soul’s ingress into the praise of Heaven is an eternal and irremediable loss of honor and glory to the Sacred Humanity of Jesus. How strangely things sound in the language of the sanctuary! Yet so it is. Can the Sacred Humanity be honored more than by the adorable sacrifice of the Mass? But here is our chief action upon Purgatory. Faith in His Sacraments as used for the dead is a pleasing homage to Jesus; and the same may be said of faith in indulgences and privileged altars and the like. The powers of the Church will flow from His Sacred Humanity, and are a perpetual praise and thank-offering to it. So, again, this devotion honors Him by imitating His zeal for souls. For this zeal is a badge of His people, and an inheritance for Him. Devotion to our dearest Mother is equally comprehended in this devotion to the Holy Souls, whether we look at her as the Mother of Jesus, and so sharing the honors of His Sacred Humanity, or as Mother of Mercy, and so especially worshipped by works of mercy, or, lastly, whether we regard her, as in a particular sense, the queen of Purgatory, and so having all manner of dear interests to be promoted in the welfare and deliverance of those suffering souls. Next to this we may rank devotion to the holy Angels, and this also is satisfied in devotion to the Holy Souls. For it keeps filling the vacant thrones in the angelic choirs, those unsightly gaps which the fall of Lucifer and one-third of the heavenly host occasioned. It multiplies the companions of the blessed spirits. They may be supposed also to look with an especial interest on that part of the Church which lies in Purgatory, because it is already crowned with their own dear gift and ornament of final perseverance, and yet, it has not entered at once into its inheritance as they did. Many of them also have a tender personal interest in Purgatory. Thousands, perhaps millions of them, are guardians to those souls, and their office is not yet over. Thousands have clients there who were specially devoted to them in life. |
Neither is devotion to the Saints without its interests in this devotion for the dead. It fills them with the delights of charity, as it swells their numbers, and beautifies their ranks and orders. Numberless patron saints are personally in multitudes of souls. The affectionate relation between their clients and themselves not only subsists, but a deeper tenderness has entered into it, because of the fearful suffering, and a livelier interest because of the accomplished victory. They see in the Holy Souls their handiwork, the fruit of their patronage, the beautiful and finished crown of their affectionate intercession.
But there is another peculiarity in this devotion for the dead. It does not rest in words and feelings, nor does it merely —lead to action indirectly and at last. It is action itself, and thus it is a substantial devotion. It speaks and a deed is done; it loves and a pain is lessened; it sacrifices, and a soul is delivered. Nothing can be more solid. We might also dare to compare it, in its pure measure, to the efficacious voice of God, which works what it says, and effects what it utters and wills, and a creation comes. The royal devotion of the Church is the works of mercy; and see how they are all satisfied in this devotion for the dead It feeds the hungry souls with Jesus, the Bread of Angels. It gives them to drink in their incomparable thirst, His Precious Blood. It clothes the naked with a robe of glory. It visits the sick with mighty powers to heal, and at the last consoles them by the visit. It frees the captives with a heavenly and eternal freedom, from a bondage far more dreadful than death. It takes in the strangers and Heaven is the hospice into which it receives them. It buries the dead in the Bosom of Jesus in everlasting rest. When the last doom shall come, and our dearest Lord shall ask those seven questions of His judicial process, those interrogatories of the works of mercy, how happy will that man be, and it may be the poorest beggar amongst us who never gave any alms because he has had to live on alms himself, who shall hear his own defense sweetly and eloquently taken up by crowds of blessed souls, to whom he has done all these things while they waited in their prison-house of hope. Another point of view, from which we may look at this devotion for the dead, is as a specially complete and beautiful exercise of the three theological virtues, of faith, hope, and charity, which are the supernatural fountains of our whole spiritual life. Neither is this devotion a less heroic exercise of the theological virtue of hope, the virtue so sadly wanting in the spiritual life of these times. For, look what a mighty edifice this devotion raises: lofty, intricate, and of magnificent pro-portions, into which somehow or other all creation is drawn, from the little headache we offer up to the Sacred Humanity of Jesus, and which has to do even with God Himself. Yet upon what does all this rest, except on a simple, childlike trust in God’s Fidelity, which is the supernatural motive of hope? We hope for the souls we help, and unbounded are the benedictions which we hope for in this regard. We hope to find mercy ourselves, because of our mercy; and this hope quickens our efforts without detracting from the merit of our charity. If we give away our own satisfaction, and the indulgences we gain, to the souls in Purgatory, instead of keeping them for ourselves, what is this but a heroic exercise of hope? We throw ourselves upon God. We hardly face the thought that we ourselves are thus sentencing ourselves, it may be, to abide years and years longer in that unconquerable fire. We shut our eyes, we quell the rising thought, we give our alms, and throw ourselves on God. We shall not be defrauded of our hope. Who ever trusted Him, and His trust failed? No! No! All is right when it is left to God. As to the charity of this devotion it dares to imitate even the charity of God Himself. What is there in Heaven or on earth which it does not embrace, and with such facility, with so much gracefulness, as if there were scarcely an effort in it, or as if self was charmed away, and might not mingle to distract it? It is an exercise of the love of God; for it is loving those whom He loves, and loving them because He loves them and to augment His glory, and multiply His praise. There are a hundred loves of God in this one love, as we should see if we reflected on those Holy Souls, and realized all that was implied in the final entry of a soul into everlasting bliss. It is love towards the Sacred Humanity, because it magnifies the copious redemption of Jesus. It honors His merits, satisfactions, ordinances and mysteries. It peoples His Heaven, and it glorifies His Blood. It is filled with Jesus, with His spirit, with His work, with His power, with His victories. No less is it an exercise of love to our dearest Lady, as I have shown before; and to the Angels and Saints. How abundant is its charity to the souls themselves; who can exaggerate, whether to give them the good measure of all the Church tells us to do, and some spontaneous alms besides; or the full measure of all our satisfactions during lifetime, and which are not by justice due elsewhere, as St. Gertrude gave them; or the measure shaken together, which adds that which shall be done for us when we are dead, like Father Munroy’s heroic act of self-renunciation; or the measure running over, which heaps upon all the rest special works of love, such as promoting this devotion by conversions, sermons, and books, and by getting Masses, Communions, penances, indulgences, from others for them. All men living on the earth, even unconverted sinners, are included in it, because it swells the Church Triumphant, and so multiplies intercessors for us who are still warring upon earth. To ourselves also it is an exercise of charity, for it gains us friends in Heaven; it earns mercy for us when we ourselves shall be in Purgatory, tranquil victims, yet, oh, in what distress! And it augments our merits in the sight of God, and so, if only we persevere, our eternal recompense hereafter. Now, if this tenderness for the dead is such an exercise of these three theological virtues, and if again even heroic sanctity consists principally in their exercises, what store ought we not to set upon this touching and beautiful devotion! But a further excellence in this devotion is to be found in its effects upon the spiritual life. It would seem as if it were a devotion specially intended for interior souls. But the fact is, that it is so full of doctrine, and embodies so much that is supernatural that we need not be surprised at the influence it exercises over the spiritual life. In the first place, it is a hidden work from first to last. We do not see the results, so that there is little food for vain-glory; neither is it a devotion the exercise of which appears in any way before the eyes of others. It implies, moreover, an utter ignoring of self, by making away with our own satisfactions and indulgences, and keeping up a tender interest in an object which does not directly concern ourselves. It is not only for the glory of God, but it is for His greater glory, and for His sole glory. It leads us to think purely of souls, which is very difficult to do in this material world, and to think of them, too, simply as spouses of Jesus. We thus gain a habit of mind which is fatal to the spirit of the world and to the tyranny of human respect, while it goes far to counteract the poison of self-love. The incessant thought of the Holy Souls keeps before us a continual image of suffering; and not merely passive suffering, but a joyful conformity to the will of God under it. Yet this is the very genius of the Gospel, the very atmosphere of holiness. Furthermore, it communicates to us, as it were, by sympathy the feelings of those Holy Souls, and so increases our trembling, yet trustful, devotion to the adorable purity of God; and as, except in the case of indulgences applied to the dead, it requires a state of grace to make satisfaction for the sins of others, it is a special act of the lay priesthood of the members of Christ. The spirit of the devotion is one of pensiveness; and this is an antidote to frivolity and hardness, and tells wonderfully upon the affectionate character which belongs to high sanctity. We can tell what will come after patient years of thus keeping constantly before our eyes a model of eagerness, unspeakable, patient eagerness, to be with our dearest Lord? It is almost omnipotent, almost omnipresent; because it is not so much he who lives as Christ who liveth in him! What is it we are touching and handling every day of our lives, all so full of supernatural vigor, of secret unction, of divine force, and yet we consider it not, but waste intentions and trifle time away in the midst of this stupendous supernatural system of grace, as unreflecting almost as a stone embedded in the earth and borne round unconsciously in its impetuous revolutions, day by day. |