The school which is founded upon the rule of the great Patriarch of the Monks of the West began with Saint Gregory the Great. Such was the independent action of the Holy Spirit who guided it that in it women have prophesied as well as men. It is enough to mention Saint Hildegarde and Saint Gertrude, with whom we may fitly associate Saint Mechtilde and Saint Frances of Rome. Any one who has tried modern methods will find, on making acquaintance with these ancient writers, that he is breathing another atmosphere and is urged onward by a gentle authority which is never felt, but which allows no rest. He will not find that subtlety, that keen and learned analysis he has met with elsewhere, and which rather weary than aid the soul.
The pious and learned Father Faber has brought out, with his characteristic sagacity, the advantages of that form of spirituality which gives the soul breadth and liberty, and so produces in many persons effects which some modern methods fail of producing: “No one,” says he, “can be at all acquainted with the old-fashioned Benedictine school of spiritual writers, without perceiving and admiring the beautiful liberty of spirit which pervades and poesesses their whole mind.”
“It is just what we should expect from an order of such matured traditions. Saint Gertrude is a fair specimen of them. She is thoroughly Benedictine... A spirit of breadth, a spirit of liberty, that is the Catholic spirit. And it was eminently the badge of the old Benedictine ascetics. Modem writers for the most part have tightened things, and have lost by it instead of gaining. By frightening people, they have lessened devotion in extent, and by overstraining it, they have lowered it in degree” (Faber, All for Jesus).
In any case, there are many ways, and every way is good which brings men back to God by a thorough conversion of heart. But we are sure that those who may be led to commit themselves to the guidance of a saint of the old school will not lose their time, and that if they meet with less philosophy and less psychology on their way, they will be subdued by the simplicity and authority of her language, and be moved and melted as they contrast their own souls with that of their saintly guide. And this blessed revolution will take place in almost every soul that follows Saint Gertrude in the week of Exercises she proposes to them, if only they really desire to draw yet more closely the ties which unite them to God, if their intention be fixed aright, and their souls truly recollected in God. We may almost venture to assure such persons that they will come forth from these Exercises transformed in their whole being.
They will return to them again and again with ever increasing pleasure, for they will have no discouraging memory of fatigue, nor of the slightest constraint laid upon their liberty of spirit. They will feel confounded, indeed, to be admitted so near the inmost heart of so great a saint, but they will also feel that they have been created for the same end as that saint, and that they must bestir themselves, and quit all easy, dangerous ways which lead to perdition. And if we be asked from where comes that wonderful influence which our Saint exercises over all who listen to her, our answer would be: from her surpassing holiness. She does not prove the possibility of spiritual movement and advance. She moves and advances. A blessed soul, sent down from Heaven to dwell awhile with men, and speaking the language of the heavenly country in this land of exile would doubtless utterly transform those who heard its speech.
Now Saint Gertrude was admitted to such familiar converse with the Son of God that her words have just the accent of such a soul. And this is why they have been and are like winged arrows which pierce and wound all within their range. The understanding is enlarged and enlightened by her pure and elevated doctrine, and yet Saint Gertrude never lectures or preaches. The heart is touched and melted, and yet Saint Gertrude speaks only to God. The soul judges itself, condemns itself, renews itself by compunction, and yet Saint Gertrude has made no effort to move or convict it.
And if we ask what is the source of the special blessing attached to the language of Saint Gertrude, the answer is that it blesses because it is so impregnated with the divine Word, not only with the revelations which Saint Gertrude received from her heavenly Spouse, but with the sacred Scriptures and the liturgy of the Church. This holy daughter of the cloister drank in light and life day by day from the source of all true contemplation, from the very fountain of living waters which gushes forth from the psalms and the inspired words of the divine Office. Her every sentence shows how exclusively her soul was nourished with this heavenly food.
She so lived into the liturgy of the Church that we continually find in her revelations that the Saviour discloses to her the mysteries of Heaven, and the Mother of God and the saints hold converse with her on some Antiphon, or Response, or Introit, which the Saint is singing with delight, and of which she is striving to feel all the force and the sweetness. Hence that unceasing flow of unaffected poetry which seems to have become quite natural to her, and that hallowed enthusiasm which raises the literary beauty of her writings almost to the height of mystical inspiration. This child of the thirteenth century, buried in a monastery of Swabia, preceded Dante in the paths of spiritual poetry. Sometimes her soul breaks forth into tender and touching elegy. Sometimes the fire which consumes her bursts forth in transports of fervour. Sometimes her feelings clothe themselves quite instinctively in a dramatic form. Sometimes she stops short in her sublimest flights, and she who almost rivals the seraphim, descends to Earth, but only to prepare herself for a still higher flight. It is as though there had been an unending struggle between the humility which held her prostrate in the dust and the aspirations of her soul, panting after Jesus, who was drawing her, and who had lavished on her such exceeding love.
In our opinion the writings of Saint Gertrude lose nothing of their indescribable beauty even when placed beside those of Saint Teresa. Nay, we think that the saint of Germany is not infrequently superior to her sister of Spain. The latter, full of impetuous ardour has not, it is true, the tinge of pensive melancholy which colours the writings of the former. But Saint Gertrude knew Latin so well, and was so profoundly versed in the letter and the spirit of the holy Scriptures, that we do not hesitate to pronounce her style superior in richness and in force to that of Saint Teresa.
Still we pray the reader not to be frightened at the thought of being placed under the guidance of a seraph when his conscience tells him that he has still so much to do in the purgative way, before he can venture to enter upon paths which may never open to him on Earth. Let him simply listen to Saint Gertrude, let him fix his eye upon her, and have faith in the end she proposes to him. When the holy Church puts in our mouths the language of the Psalms, she knows full well that that language is often far beyond the feelings of our soul. But if we wish to bring ourselves up to the level of these divine hymns, our best method is certainly to repeat them frequently in faith and humility, and await the transformation they will assuredly effect. Saint Gertrude detaches us gently from ourselves, and brings us to Jesus by going before us herself, and by drawing us after her, though at a great distance. She goes straight to the heart of her divine Spouse, and she might well do so. But will it not be an inestimable blessing if she bring us to his feet like Magdalene, penitent and transformed by love? Even when she writes for her sisters alone, let us not suppose that these exquisite pages are useless to those of us who are living in the midst of the world. The religious life, when expounded by such an interpreter, is a spectacle as instructive as it is striking. Need we say that the practice of the precepts of the Gospel becomes more easy to those who have well pondered and admired the practice of its counsels? What is the Imitation of Christ but a book written by a monk for the use of monks, and yet who is not familiar with its teaching? How many seculars delight in the writings of Saint Teresa and yet the holy Carmelite makes the religious life the one theme of her teaching.
We will not now speak of her wonderful style of expression. We are so unused to the decided and elevated language of the ages of faith that some readers, accustomed to modern books alone, may be startled and even pained by Saint Gertrude. But what is the remedy for this inconvenience? If we have unlearned the language of that antique piety which fashioned saints, surely our best way is to learn it again as soon as we can. And Saint Gertrude will give us wonderful help in doing so.
The list of the devoted admirers of her writings would be long and imposing. But there is an authority far higher still — that of the Church herself. That mother of the faithful, ever guided by the Holy Ghost, has in her holy liturgy set her seal upon Saint Gertrude. The Saint herself, and the spirit which animated her, are there for ever recommended and glorified in the eyes of all Christians in virtue of the solemn judgement contained in the Office of her festival.
The life of Gertrude the Great, as she has merited to be distinguished among the Saints of the same name, was humble and obscure (1256‒1302). At five years of age she entered the Abbey of Helfta near Eisleben, and there she remained hidden in the secret of God’s face (Psalm xxx. 21). For several centuries, by an error which has also found its way into the Legend of the feast, she was confounded with the Abbess Gertrude of Hackeborn who governed the monastery during our Saint’s lifetime, and was herself favoured with divine gifts. It was not until Gertrude’s sublime Revelations contained in the five books of the Legatus divinus pietatis, or Legate of divine love, had at length been published, that in 1677 her name was inscribed in the Roman Martyrology. In the following century (1738) Clement XII ordered her feast to be celebrated, as a Double, by the whole Church. The West Indies chose her as patroness, and a town in New Mexico bears her name.
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O revealer of the Sacred Heart, what better prayer could we offer in your honour than to say with you to the Son of the Blessed Virgin:
“O my soul’s calm untroubled Light! O dawn of morning, soft-gleaming with your beauteous light, become in me the perfect day. O my Love, who does not only enlighten but deify, come to me in all your might. Come and gently melt my whole being. May all that is of me be destroyed utterly. May I wholly pass into you, so that I may no more find myself in time, but may be already and most intimately united to you for all eternity. You have first loved me. It is you who has chosen me, and not I who have first chosen you. You are He who of His own accord runs towards His thirsting creature, and on your kingly brow gleams the fair splendour of the everlasting light. Show me your countenance, and let me gaze upon your beauty. How mild and full of charms is that face, all radiant with the rosy light of the dawn of the divine Sun! How can the spark live and glow far from the fire that gave it being? Or how can the drop of water abide far from the spring from where it was taken? O compassionate Love, why have you loved a creature so defiled and so covered with shame, but that you have willed to render it all fair in you?
O delicate flower of the Virgin Mary, your goodness and your tender mercy have won and ravished my heart. O Love, my glorious noontide, to take my rest in you, gladly would I die a thousand deaths. O Charity, O Love, at the hour of my death you will sustain me with your words, more gladdening far than choicest wine. You will then be my way, my unobstructed way, that I may wander no more nor stray. You will aid me then, O love, thou Queen of Heaven. You will clear my way before me to those fair and fertile pastures hidden in the divine wilderness, and my soul will be inebriated with bliss, for there will I see the face of the Lamb, my Spouse and my God. O Love, who are God, you are my best beloved possession. Without you neither Earth nor Heaven could excite in me one hope, nor draw forth one desire: vouchsafe to effect and perfect within me that union which you yourself desire: may it be the end, the crown and consummation of my being. In the countenance of my God your light beams soft and fair as the evening star.
O fair and solemn Evening, let me see your ray when my eye will close in death. O Love, much-loved Evening-tide, at that dread moment let the sacred flame, which burns evermore in your divine essence, consume all the stains of my mortal life. O my calm and peaceful Evening, when the evening-tide of my life will come, give me to sleep in you in tranquil sleep, and to taste that blissful rest which you have prepared in yourself for them that love you. With your serene, enchanting look vouchsafe to order all things and prepare all things for my everlasting espousal. O Love, be to me an eventide so bright and calm that my ravished soul may bid a loving farewell to its body, and return to God who gave it, and rest in peace beneath your beloved shadow!” (From the 5th Exercise. To kindle in the soul the love of God).On this day according to the ROMAN MARTYROLOGY:
In Africa, the holy martyrs Rufinus, Mark, Valerius and their companions.
The same day, the holy martyrs Elpidius, Marcellus, Eustochius and their companions. Elpidius being a senator, and having perseveringly confessed the Christian faith before Julian the Apostate, was, with his companions, first tied to wild horses and dragged by them, and then being thrown into the fire, ended a glorious martyrdom.
At Lyons, the birthday of St. Eucherius, bishop and confessor, a man of extraordinary faith and learning. He renounced the senatorial dignity to embrace the religious life, and for a long time voluntarily shut himself up in a cavern where he served Christ in prayer and fasting. Afterwards, through the revelation of an angel, he was solemnly installed in the episcopal chair of the city of Lyons.
At Padua, St. Fidentius, bishop.
At Canterbury in England, St. Edmund, archbishop and confessor, who was sent into exile for having maintained the rights of his church. He died near Provins, in France, and was canonised by Pope Innocent IV.
The same day, the departure from this world of St. Othmar, abbot.
And in other places, many other holy martyrs, confessors and virgins.
Thanks be to God.
