Discourse 55

From where is hidden vigilance preserved within the soul? And what is the nature of the entering of calmness and coolness into the mind, extinguishing the holy fervor from the soul, and causing the passion for God to die? Concerning the spiritual and heavenly yearnings: it is not possible to oppose them by means of beautiful things, unless the evil of its own smallnesses had not been found by the revealers of beautiful things. It is the nature of the matter that, like this, for every movement of love for the beautiful that exists, together with the beginning of agitation, a certain disturbance follows, resembling the waves of fire in its heat. And this very thing turns around like a wall for that movement of love, and drives away from its time every opposition and disturbance that exists. Great is the difficulty and the power of this which is unspeakable, to restrain the whole soul from being shaken or moved from the foundations of all its afflictions. And that first one is the power of holy passion, which is fixed in the womb of the soul. This, however, is the wonder that is moved from the power of the wrath that is subdued within it, that which from God is placed naturally to guard the boundaries of purity, so that the strength of its foundation may be preserved for the sake of the natural passion of the soul, which is the excellence.

There is no use of virtue without it. For it is called: fervor. It is that which inflames, stirs, enkindles, and strengthens a person at every moment, so that he may press upon the body with afflictions and ascetic labors of the powers of the spirit, to deliver himself confidently to death, and to break the forces of the rebel, instead of the perfection of that thing which the soul has loved virtuously. For the blessed Paul, in his writing, calls this fervor a dog, and a guardian of the law of God, which is virtue. Virtue is the fulfillment of the laws of God. For this fervent power is awake and enkindled to guard the house for two reasons. And again it is weakened, and stands, and rests, for two other reasons. The first cause of its heat and wakefulness is when some fear befalls a person, threatening the faces of virtues that are present or that are about to be present, that they might be saved or destroyed, from some event that befalls it. And this is from divine grace, which is moved in all the true servants of virtue, for the wakefulness and constant fervor of the soul, that it may not stand still. But when this fear, which is moved in the heart, ceases, this dog of which we spoke, by night and by day, stands like a roaring lion.

When it stirs the ascetic, he becomes like a Cherub, wakeful and watchful over all his surroundings at all times. As the Apostle says: if a sparrow passes by him, he is disturbed and cries out with a sharp, ineffable cry. That fear, when it is for the body, is satanic. But when it is divided over the vanity of God in his faith, and the error of how God has been vain over those who are worthy of virtue, to receive their own at all times—as the Holy Spirit said through the mouth of the prophet: the eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous, and his ears are open to hear, and his thought is upon those who fear him. And as from his own person to the workers of virtue in another place he says: Do not let evil approach you, and let no blow come near your dwelling, because I have commanded my angels over you to guard you, and to take you up on their arms. Along with the rest of the verses that are written. When, therefore, that fear is for the soul, because of the events that happen to those worthy of virtue, that it may be delivered or preserved from one of the causes—this is a divine thought and a virtuous intention.

and from the idleness of God, which is the disturbance and fear in the soul, and the cry that silences the thought in its purity, also another cause: that its disturbance and barking is like a dog, when excessive love of idleness grows in the soul. For by the flame of love of idleness, upon that which is held in its love, which is divine thought, thus the ascetic is disturbed in its face. The causes of its wakefulness and its sleep: one of them, when that love cools and diminishes in the soul; the second, when some thought of trust enters and settles in the soul. When a man trusts and sees how many times he has no cry from anything that can disturb him, and from here he casts off the zeal of the ascetic, and becomes like a house without a guard, and sleeps like a dog, and abandons the watch. As in negligence, from this thought comes the end of the negligence of the known times. This happens when the simplicity of the light of the holy knowledge in the soul is obscured. From what is this obscured? But either from some harsh thought of despair entering and penetrating the soul, or from the weight of excess of purity of these bodily things falling upon a man, or from grievous afflictions of the world that befall him.

Whenever it receives the disturbance of worldly things, the soul is immediately troubled, especially that of a woman. Thus many have been received, those who, through their emptiness, are stripped of vain glory by the soul. And like the pauses, the hour resembles a swimmer: whenever the world sinks him, he goes down gently into the sea, as a gentle wind from his flesh blows against the face, and he falls among the rocks.