SACRED LOVE SHARES ITS EXCELLENCE WITH THE OTHER VIRTUES PERFECTING THEIR PARTICULAR EXCELLENCE
Pliny writes, “I saw at Tivoli a tree that was grafted in all the ways that grafting can be done and which bore all sorts of fruits. On one branch there were cherries, on another nuts, and on others grapes, figs, pomegranates, apples and in general all kinds of fruits.” This was wonderful, Theotimus. Still more wonderful is it to see in the Christian person divine love with all the virtues grafted on it. Just as one might have said of Pliny’s tree that it was a cherry tree, an apple, a nut, a pomegranate, so one can say of charity that it is patient, kind, courageous, just, or rather that it is patience, kindness and justice itself.
The poor tree of Tivoli did not last long, as the same Pliny tells us. The variety of fruits dried up very soon its essential sap so that it withered away and died.
Whereas, on the contrary, love finds new strength and fresh vigour from producing abundant fruits in the practice of all the virtues. Indeed, as our Holy Fathers have noted, it is insatiable in its desire to bring forth fruit. It never cease to urge the heart wherein it dwells, as Rachel did her husband, saying: Give me children, or I shall die (Gen 30:1)
The fruits of grafted trees are always those of the graft. If the graft is from an apple tree, the tree will bear apples, if it is from a cherry tree, the tree will bear cherries. Yet, these fruits always taste of the stock on which they have been grafted. In the same way, Theotimus, our actions take their names and their species from the particular virtues from which they have arisen. But they draw the taste of their sanctity from holy charity, which is the root and source of all sanctity in a human being. The stock communicates its taste to all the fruits which the grafts produce, yet in such a way that each fruit preserves the natural property of the graft from which it has come. So also charity pours out its excellence and dignity upon the acts of other virtues in such a way that it does not deprive them of the particular value and goodness which they have by their own natural condition.
All flowers lose their brightness and their grace during the darkness of night. But in the morning, the sun makes these same flowers visible and pleasant. It does not, however, make equal their beauty and grace. Its light is spread equally on all yet makes them unequally bright and shining, according as they are more or less susceptible to the effects of its splendour. The light of the sun, falling equally on the violet and on the rose, will never make the beauty of the violet equal to that of the rose, nor the grace of a daisy to that of a lily. However, if the light of the sun fell very clearly on the violet but obscured by mist on the rose, then without doubt the violet would appear more pleasing to the eyes than the rose.
In the same way, my dear Theotimus, consider two persons who suffer with equal charity, one the death of a martyr and the other the hunger of fasting. It is quite clear that the value of this fasting will not, therefore, be equal to that of the martyrdom. No, Theotimus, for who would dare to affirm that martyrdom is not in itself more excellent than fasting? As martyrdom is more excellent, and as the charity that is added does not take away the excellence it has but rather perfects it, charity will, therefore, leave to it the advantages which it naturally had over fasting.
Certainly, no man of good sense would equate the chastity of the married with virginity, nor the good use of riches to their complete renouncement. And who would dare to assert that charity coming to the virtues deprives them of their properties and privileges? This is because it is not a virtue that impoverishes and destroys but one that improves, enlivens and enriches all the good it finds in the persons it rules.
Indeed, sacred love is far from removing the natural precedences and dignities of the other virtues. On the contrary, as it has this quality of perfecting the perfections it meets with, it perfects to a greater degree the greater perfections it finds. It is like the sugar used in making jams which seasons fruits with its sweetness. Though it sweetens them all yet it leaves them dissimilar in taste and sweetness, just as their natural taste is dissimilar. And never does it make peaches and nuts as sweet or as pleasant as apricots and plums.
It is indeed true that if in a heart love is ardent, powerful and excellent, it will enrich and perfect still more all the virtuous actions which proceed from it. One can suffer death and fire for God without having charity, as St. Paul indicates (1Cor.13:3), and as I have explained elsewhere.[1] With greater reason one can suffer them with only a little charity.
Here is something I want to say, Theotimus. It may well happen that a very small virtue could be of greater value in a person in whom sacred love reigns fervently, than martyrdom itself in a person whose love is declining, weak and sluggish. Thus the little virtues of our Lady, of St. John, of other great Saints were of more value before God than the greatest virtues of many lesser Saints. Similarly, many of the small movements of love in the Seraphim are more ardent than the greatest in the Angels of the lowest order. So also the song of nightingales just learning to sing is far more melodious than the singing of well-trained goldfinches.
Pireicus, towards the end of his life, painted only small pictures and trivial subjects such as shops of barbers and cobblers, donkeys carrying herbs and similar matters of no importance. Pliny thinks he did this to lessen his great fame so that in the end he was called a painter of inferior material. Nevertheless, the greatness of his art appeared so clearly in his small works that they were sold for a higher price than the larger paintings of others.
In the same way, Theotimus, the little acts of simplicity, self-abasement and humiliation, in which the great Saints took so much delight, in order to hide themselves and shelter their hearts from vainglory, were done with a great excellence of the art and of the ardour of sacred love. Therefore they were found more pleasing to God than the outstanding or splendid works of many others which were performed with little charity and devotion.
The Sacred Spouse wounds her Beloved with a single one of her hairs (Song 4:9). He gives so much importance to her hair that he compares it to the flocks of goats of Gilead (Song 6:5). No sooner has he praised the eyes of his devoted loved one, which are the most noble parts of the whole face, then immediately he praises the hair, the part which is the most frail, most worthless and most lowly. This is to let us know that in a person captivated by Divine love, actions that seem very trifling are nevertheless highly pleasing to his Divine Majesty.
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[1] TLG, Bk X, Ch.8.