WE PRACTISE BENEVOLENT LOVE BY JOINING WITH OUR SAVIOUR AND HIS MOTHER IN PRAISING GOD
We go on, then, ascending in this holy practice step by step. We begin with creatures whom we invite to praise God. We pass from the inanimate to the rational and the intellectual creatures, from the militant church to the triumphant. In the triumphant church, we rise above the angels and saints, till above all, we meet with the most Holy Virgin. She praises and extols the Divinity with a melody beyond all comparison. She praises God more highly, more holily and more delightfully than all the rest of the creatures taken together are capable of doing.
Two years ago,[1] in Milan, there was a ceremony of veneration of the recent memory of the great Archbishop St. Charles [Borromeo]. I had gone there with some of our ecclesiastics. We heard in different churches various kinds of music. But in a convent of young women, we heard a nun singing whose voice was wonderfully sweet. She alone touched our hearts with sweetness incomparably greater than all the rest taken together. Though other voices were excellent, they seemed to enhance the grace and increase the perfection and charm of this unique voice. Thus, Theotimus, among all the choirs of saints and all the choirs of Angels, we hear the highly melodious voice of the most holy Virgin. Her voice, raised above all, gives more praise to God than all the rest of creatures. The heavenly King very specially invites her to sing: Let me see your face, O my Beloved, he says, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet and your face is lovely (Song 2:14).
These praises which the Mother of honour and of beautiful love (Sir 15:2; 24:18) with all the creatures together give to God are excellent, admirable. Even then, they are infinitely lower than what the infinite goodness of God deserves. They have no proportion whatsoever with divine goodness. Hence, although they give much satisfaction to benevolent love which the loving heart has for its Beloved, they do not make it content. So it moves further. It invites the Saviour to praise and glorify his eternal Father with all the praises which his filial love prompts him.
Then, Theotimus, the human spirit reaches an area of silence. For we can do nothing but admire. O, what a canticle the Son sings for the Father! How this Dearly Beloved is beautiful among children of men! How sweet is this voice flowing from the lips on which the fullness of grace is bestowed (Ps 45:2). All the others are perfumed but he is the perfume itself. Others are embalmed but he is the balm poured out (Song 1:3). The eternal Father receives the praises of others as the fragrance of special flowers. On experiencing the praises which the Saviour gives him, without doubt, he exclaims: Ah, the fragrance of the praises of my son are like the smell of a field full of flowers that I have blessed (Gen 27:27).
Yes, my dear Theotimus, all the praises which the militant and triumphant church give to God are angelic and human praises. Though they are addressed to the Creator, all the same their origin is from the creatures. But the praises the Son offers are divine. They are not only directed to God as those of others but also come from God, since the Saviour is true God. They are divine not only because of their end but also as regards their origin. They are divine because they tend to God. God inspires the soul and gives it the grace necessary, fostering other praises. As regards those of the Redeemer, it is he who is God himself who offers them. So they are infinite.
In the morning, a person listens to the chirping of a great number of canaries, linnets, goldfinches and such other little birds for a long time in the woods. Finally, he hears a master nightingale fill the air and ears with the perfect melody of its admirable voice. Certainly, that person would prefer this single woodland singer to the whole crowd of other birds. Similarly, we have heard all the praises which so many different creatures, in emulation with one another, unanimously render to their Creator. Finally, when we hear that of the Saviour, we find in it a certain infinite merit, value, sweetness. It surpasses all the hope and expectation of the heart. The soul, then, as if awakened from a deep sleep, is enraptured by the sweetness of such a melody: Ah, hear him. O the voice, the voice of my Beloved. It is the queen of all the voices. In comparison with this voice, all other voices are dumb and gloomy silence. See, how this dear Friend soars up: Look, he comes leaping upon the high mountains, bounding over the hills (Song 2:8). His voice resounds above the seraphim and every creature. He looks like a gazelle or young stag. He penetrates the beauty of the sacred object, which he wishes to praise more deeply than any other. He loves the melody of the glory and praise of his Father more than all. Hence he soars up in praises and blessings above all the rest. Contemplate this divine love of the Beloved as he stands behind the wall of his humanity. See, he can be seen through the wounds of his body and the opening on his side as if through some windows. He is there as if looking at us through the lattice (Song 2:9).
It is certain, Theotimus, that divine love is seated on the heart of the Saviour[2] as on a royal throne. Through the cleft of his pierced side, he looks at the children of humans. For this heart, being the King of hearts, always keeps his eyes on our hearts. Those who look through the lattice see yet only a glimpse of it. So too, the divine love of this heart, rather this heart of divine love, always sees our hearts clearly. He looks at them with eyes of pure and tender love. Nevertheless, we do not see him; we have only a glimpse of him. O God, if we saw him as he is, then we would die of love for him because we are mortals. In fact, he himself died for us while he was mortal. He would still have died for us, had he not been immortal.
O, if we see this divine heart as it sings the canticle of praise to the Divinity with infinitely sweet voice! What joy, Theotimus! What attempts our hearts would make to soar up to heaven to hear it always! Truly, he, this dear Friend of ours, invites us there: Come on, he says, come out of yourself, fly towards me, my dove, my fair one (Song 2:10)
this heavenly dwelling. Here, all are in joy. They breathe nothing but praises and blessings. All are in blossoms there. All spread sweetness and fragrance. The turtledoves, most dull among all the birds, all the same resound their warblings. Come, my Beloved, my dearest. To see me more clearly, come to the same windows through which I see you. Come to meditate on my heart in the cave of the opening on my side. It was made while my body was reduced, like a ruined fallen house. It was pitiably demolished on the tree of the Cross.
Come and show me your face. Ah, I see it now without your showing it to me. I shall see it and you shall show it to me. For you shall see that I see You. Let me hear your voice because I wish to join it with mine. Thus your face will be lovely and your voice sweet (Song 2:14). O, what sweetness it is to our hearts when our voices joined and blended with that of the Saviour will share in the infinite sweetness of the praises which this beloved Son gives to his eternal Father!
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[1] April 25,1613 (Kerns, TLG, p. 207). St. Francis de Sales might have written this chapter in 1615 (See Pleiade, p. 1733, footnote under Ch. 11).
[2] In this and the following paragraph, we have a foretaste of the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. St. Francis de Sales several times refers to the heart of the Saviour in the TLG.