{ "meta": { "schema_version": "1.1", "endpoint": "/api/sources/rhineland-mystics/suso/vol-1-21-chapter-xxii.json" }, "work": { "slug": "suso", "name": "Heinrich Suso" }, "parents": [ { "slug": "rhineland-mystics", "name": "Rhineland Mystics", "url": "/sources/rhineland-mystics/" } ], "chapter": { "num": 22, "slug": "vol-1-21-chapter-xxii", "title": "Chapter XXII.", "of": 51, "words": 2837, "text": "## Chapter XXII.\n\nHow painful it is to die interiorly. \nNow that the Servitor had been released by \nGod from exterior penances of the kind described \nabove, by which his life had been imperilled, his \nworn-out frame was so rejoiced at this, that he \nused to weep for joy whenever he called to mind \nhis penitential bonds, and all the cruel sufferings \n\n\nINTERIOR CROSSES. 85 \n\nand combats which he had passed through. \nAnd he said within himself: — Henceforth, dear \nLord, I will lead a quiet life and enjoy myself. \nI will quench my thirst fully with wine and \nwater, and I will sleep unbound on my straw \nbed. Oh ! how often and how earnestly I have \nlonged that this comfort might be mine before \nI died! I have been long enough wearing my- \nself away. Henceforth the time is come for me \nto rest. Such were the presumptuous thoughts \nand fancies which then floated before his mind. \nAlas ! he knew not yet what God had decreed \nconcerning him. \n\nWhen he had spent several weeks very \npleasantly in these agreeable thoughts, it hap- \npened one day that, as he was sitting ac- \ncording to custom on the bench which was his \nbed, he began to contemplate that true saying \nof the suffering Job, \"Militia est vita hominis \nsuper terram\" (Job vii. 1), — The life of man \nin this world is nothing else but a knight's life \nof warfare. As he meditated on these words, \nhis senses became abstracted, and it seemed \nto him that there came in a comely youth, of \nvery manly form, who brought him a pair of \nknight's shoes, of excellent quality, with other \nclothing such as knights are wont to wear. The \n\n\n86 LIFE OF BLESSED HENRY SUSO. \n\nyouth went up to the Servitor, and vested him \nin the knight's attire, saying: — Hearken, Sir \nKnight. Hitherto thou hast been a squire: \nGod wills thee now to be a knight. The Ser- \nvitor looked at himself in the knight's shoes, \nand marvelling greatly in his heart, exclaimed : \n— Wonderful, O God ! What has happened to \nme? What have I become? Must I be a \nknight ? I had much rather lead a comfortable \nlife than this. Then he said to the youth : — \nWell, since God wills me to be a knight, if only \nI had been made one gloriously in a battle, I \nshould have preferred it. The youth turned \nhalf aside, and, with a laugh, answered: — Be \nnot anxious. You shall have fighting enough. \nHe who resolves to bear himself undauntedly as \nGod's knight in this spiritual warfare will meet \nwith much harder conflicts than ever fell to the \nlot of the famed heroes of olden time, whose \nknightly prowess the world loves to recount in \nsong and tale. Thou fanciest that God has \ntaken thy yoke oif thee, and that He has cast \naway thy bonds, so that thou canst now attend \nto thy comfort. But it is not so, as yet. It is \nnot God's will to take thy bonds from off thee. \nHe will only change them, and make them far \nheavier than they ever were before. The Ser- \n\n\nINTEKIOR CKOSSES. 87 \n\nvitor was struck with terror at this, and said : — \nAlas, my God ! what art Thou about to do with \nme? I fancied that all was at an end, just as \nit is going to begin. My straits are only now \ncommencing, as it seems to me. Ah, Lord of \nHeaven! what mean Thy dealings with me? \nAm I alone a sinner, and are all other men \njust, that Thou dost in this wise use Thy rod \non me, poor wretch, and sparest many others ? \nThou hast acted thus with me since my child- \nhood's days, when Thou didst crucify my youth- \nful frame with heavy and weary sicknesses. I \nfancied that I had had enough by this time; \nHe answered : — No ! it is not yet enough. Thou \nmust be tried and proved to the very bottom in \nall things, if it is to go well with thee. The \nServitor said : — Lord ! show me how much suf- \nfering I have still before me. He answered: \n— Look upwards at the heavens above thee, \nand if thou canst count the countless multitude \nof the stars, thou canst count also the sufferings \nwhich still await thee; and as the stars seem \nsmall, and yet are great, even so thy sufferings \nare small in seeming to the eyes of unexercised \nmen; while, judged of by thy own feelings, they \nwill prove great for thee to bear. The Servitor \nsaid: — Ah, Lord! show me the sufferings be* \n\n\n88 LIFE OF BLESSED HENRY SUSO. \n\nforehand, that I may know them. He answered : \n— No ! it is better for thee not to know them, \nlest thou shouldst lose heart beforehand. Never- \ntheless, among the countless sufferings which \nawait thee, I will tell thee three. \n\nThe first is this. Hitherto thou hast struck \nthyself with thy own hands, and left off striking \nwhen thou wouldst, and hast had pity upon thy- \nself. But now I will myself take hold of thee, \nand give thee over quite defenceless into the \nhands of strangers, and thou shalt suffer pub- \nlicly the loss of thy good name, through the \nmeans of certain blinded men. This will press \nupon thee more painfully than the sharp cross \non thy wounded back did; for in thy former \nexercises thou wast held in high repute among \nmen, whereas now thou shalt be beaten down \nand brought to naught in the sight of all. \n\nThe second suffering is this. Many as have \nbeen the bitter deaths which thou hast inflicted \non thyself, nevertheless this has always remained \nto thee by God's providence, that thy disposition \nis an affectionate and love-seeking one. Now \nit shall befall thee, that in those very quarters \nwhere thou shalt look for special love and faith- \nfulness thou shalt meet with great unfaithful- \nness, sufferings, and affliction. And this shall \n\n\nINTERIOR CROSSES. 89 \n\nhappen in such manifold ways, that those who \nshall continue more than ordinarily true to thee \nwill have to suffer with thee from compassion. \n\nThe third suffering is this. Hitherto thou \nhast been like an unweaned sucking child, and \nthou hast floated in divine sweetness, as a fish \nin the sea. I will now withdraw this from thee, \nand let thee starve and wither ; and thou shalt \nbe forsaken both by God and the world, and \nbe openly despised by friends and foes. In a \nword: whatever thou shalt take in hand in \norder to delight or comfort thee, shall come to \nnaught. \n\nThe Servitor was struck with such conster- \nnation at these words that his whole frame trem- \nbled; and springing up impetuously, he fell down \nupon the ground in the form of a cross, and \ncalling upon God with a cry of agony from his \nvery heart, besought Him by His kind fatherly \ngoodness to take away from him, if it were pos- \nsible, this great misery ; or, if this could not be, \nto let the heavenly will of His eternal ordinance \nbe accomplished in him. \n\nAfter he had lain a good while in this ex- \ntremity of anguish, something spoke within him \nthus: — Be of good cheer. I Myself will be \nwith thee, and I will aid thee graciously to \n\n\n90 LIFE OF BLESSED HENRY SUSO. \n\novercome in all these unusual trials. There- \nupon he arose, and gave himself up entirely \ninto God's hands. Now when it became morn- \ning, and he was sitting sorrowfully in his cell \nafter Mass, thinking over these things, and \nfrozen with cold, for it was winter, he heard a \nvoice within him saying : — Open the window of \nthe cell, and look out and learn. He opened \nthe window, and looked out, and he beheld a \ndog running about in the middle of the cloister \nwith a worn-out foot-cloth in its mouth. The \ndog was acting very strangely with the foot- \ncloth, for he kept tossing it up and down, and \ntearing holes in it. Thereupon the Servitor \nlooked up to heaven, sighing deeply, and it was \nsaid to him: — Even so shalt thou be in thy \nbrethren's mouths. Then the thought came to \nhim : — Since it cannot be otherwise, resign thy*- \nself to it ; and, as the foot-cloth suffers itself to \nbe maltreated in silence, even so do thou. He \nwent down into the cloister, and, taking up the \nfoot-cloth, preserved it for many years as a \njewel most dear to him ; and as often as he felt \ninclined to break out into impatience, he used to \nbring it forth, that he might recognise himself \nin it and keep silence in regard to all men. If \nit sometimes happened that he half turned away \n\n\nINTERIOR CROSSES. 91 \n\nhis face in anger from some of those who per- \nsecuted him, he was inwardly rebuked for it, \nand it was said to him : — Remember that I, thy \nLord, turned not away My beautiful face from \nthose who spat upon Me. Then he would bit- \nterly repent of what he had done, and turn \nhimself to them again very lovingly. \n\nIn the beginning, when he met with any \nsuffering, the thought would come to his mind : \n— O God, that this suffering were at an end, \nthat I might have done with it! Thereupon \nthe Child Jesus appeared to him in a vision on \nour Lady's feast of Candlemas, and rebuked \nhim, saying : — Thou dost not yet know how to \nsuffer ; but I will teach thee : Behold ! when \nthou art in any suffering, thou shouldst not \nlook onwards to the end of that suffering, \nfancying that thou wilt then be at rest; but \nso long as the suffering lasts, thou shouldst be \ngetting thyself ready to accept with patience \nanother suffering, which is sure to follow in \nits train. Thou shouldst do like a maiden \npicking roses. When she has picked one \nrose from the rose-bush, this does not satisfy \nher, but she resolves to pick many more from \nit. Even so do thou. Make up thy mind \nfor this beforehand, that, when one suffering \n\n\n92 LIFE OF BLESSED HENRY SUSO. \n\ncomes to an end, another will forthwith meet \nthee. \n\nAmong other friends of God who foretold to \nhim the new sufferings which were hanging \nover him, there came to him a person of emi- \nnent sanctity, who said that, on the Angels' fes- \ntival, after matins she had prayed to God for \nhim with exceeding earnestness ; and that it \nseemed to her in a vision that she was carried \nto the place where he then was, and that she \nbeheld a beautiful rose-tree grow up over him, \nand spread itself on all sides far and wide. It \nwas of a ravishing form, and full of lovely red \nroses. On looking up to heaven it seemed to \nher that the sun rose all beautiful, without a \ncloud, and with much splendour. Now there \nstood in the sun's radiance a lovely Child in the \nform of a cross ; and she saw a ray come forth \nfrom the sun to the Servitor's heart, and it was \nso mighty that it set on fire all his veins and \nlimbs. But the rose-tree bowed itself between, \nand did its best with its thick boughs to shut out \nthe sunshine from his heart. Nevertheless it \ncould not succeed in this, for the outstreaming \nrays were so powerful, that they pierced through \nall the boughs and shone down right into his \nheart. Then she saw the Child come forth \n\n\nINTERIOR CROSSES. 93 \n\nfrom the sun, and she said to him: — Dear \nChild, whither art Thou going ? He answered : \n— I am going to My beloved Servitor. Upon \nwhich she said : — Sweet Child, what means the \nsun's brightness in Thy Servitor's heart? He \nreplied: — I have made his loving heart thus \nbright and glorious, that the reflection of its \nradiance, streaming forth from out his heart, \nmay draw lovingly the hearts of all men to Me. \nThe thick rose-tree, which represents the mani- \nfold sufferings that await him, cannot hinder \nthis, but right nobly it shall be accomplished \nin him. \n\nInasmuch as seclusion is profitable to a be- \nginner, the Servitor resolved to remain for more \nthan ten years secluded in his monastery from \nall the world. When he went from table he \nused to shut himself up in his chapel and re- \nmain there. He refused to hold any long con- \nversations at the convent -door or elsewhere \nwith women, or even with men, nor would he \nlook at them. He fixed a short limit for his \neyes, beyond which he suffered them not to \nlook ; and the limit was five feet. He remained \nalways at home, and would never go out either \ninto the town or the country. His one aim was \nto practise solitude. All this watchfulness, how- \n\n\n94 LIFE OF BLESSED HENRY SUSO. \n\never, served liim nothing; for during these years \nthere fell upon him exceeding grievous suffer- \nings; and they crushed him down so heavily \nthat he became an object of pity to himself and \nothers. \n\nIn order that his prison-house might be \nmore agreeable to him during the ten years \nwhich he had resolved to spend in voluntary \nconfinement in his chapel, he directed a painter \nto draw for him the holy fathers of olden time \nwith their sayings, as well as other devout pic- \ntures, calculated to encourage a sufferer to pa- \ntience under afflictions. But God would not \nlet this be according to his wish ; for when the \npainter had sketched out the ancient fathers \nwrith charcoal on the chapel -walls, his eyes \nbecame so bad that he could no longer see to \ndraw. He therefore begged permission to de- \npart, saying that the work must wait until he \ngot well again. The Servitor turned to the \npainter, and inquired how long it would take \nhim to get well. The painter answered: — \nTwelve weeks. Upon this the Servitor told \nhim to set up again the ladder, which he had \ntaken down, against the outlines of the anciejut \nfathers on the wrall; and when this was done, \nhe mounted the ladder, and, after rubbing his \n\n\nINTERIOR CROSSES. 95 \n\nhands upon the pictures, stroked the painter's \nsuffering eyes, saying : — In the might of God, \nand through the holiness of these ancient \nfathers, I bid you, master, come back here to- \nmorrow morning with your eyes quite cured. \nEarly next morning the painter came back joy- \nous and well, and he thanked God and the \nServitor for his cure. The Servitor, however, \ndid not ascribe it to himself, but to the ancient \nfathers, on whose pictures he had rubbed his \nhands. \n\nDuring this same period it seemed as if God \nhad given leave to the evil spirits and to all men \nto torment him. Innumerable were the suffer- \nings which he then endured from the evil spirits, \nwho, in horrible assumed forms and with savage \ncruelty, caused him so much pain and grief, day \nand night, awake and asleep, that his sufferings \nfrom this source were exceeding great. \n\nOnce upon a time he was tempted with a \ngreat longing to eat meat, for he had passed \nmany years without touching meat. Now, after \nhe had eaten the meat, and had scarcely finished \nsatisfying his longing, there came and stood \nover against him, in a vision, a monstrous hellish \nfigure, who, after repeating the verse, a Adhuc \nescao eorum erant in ore ipsorum, et ira Dei des- \n\n\n96 LIFE OF BLESSED HENRY SUSO. \n\ncendit super eos\" (Ps.lxxvii. 30; Numb. xi. 33), — \nAs yet the morsel was in their mouth, and the \nwrath of God came down upon them, — cried out \nin a barking voice to those who stood by : — Tins \nmonk is guilty of death, and I will execute the \nsentence on him. But when they would not suf- \nfer this, he drew forth a horrible auger, saying : \n— Since I may not do any thing else to thee, I \nwill at least torture thy body with this auger; \nand I will bore it into thee through thy mouth \nin such a manner, that the anguish which thou \nshalt suffer will be as great as the pleasure thou \ndidst take in eating the meat. And having said \nthis, he drove the auger in cruel fashion against \nthe Servitor's mouth. Whereupon immediately \nhis chin-bones and teeth swelled up, and his \nmouth became so swollen that he could not open \nit ; and for three days he could not eat meat or \nany thing else, except only what he could suck \nup through his teeth. \n\n\nINTERIOR SUFFERINGS. 97", "project_translation": false, "text_trust": "verbatim", "quote_safe": true, "license": null, "methodology_url": null } }