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← Orationes sive Meditationes — Collection for Princess Adeliza of Normandy/Book 1 · Orationes sive Meditationes
Chapter 96Ansl.1.96

MEDITATIO XX. Querimonia de absentia Dei.

The Soul's Complaint Before Mercy

The soul confesses that mercy alone is not enough without lamenting the bitter absence of God's face, caught in a cycle where seeking consolation only deepens the memory of grief.

It's not enough, Lord — it's not enough for this sinful soul of mine that she hopes to have her sins forgiven out of the abundance of your ineffable mercy, unless she also sets before you, by laying bare her complaint as best she can, the grief she suffers over the absence of your face. She is a stranger far from you, and this on account of her own iniquities. So where will I find the leading thought of my discourse? I intend to be consoled in my grief, and yet I see that grief growing greater the more consolation I obtain. For the very act of searching for consolation brings the memory of pain back to mind. I wouldn't seek consolation for my grief unless I remembered that I was grieving — because it's from the memory of pain that consolation's refuge is sought, and from the desire for consolation the memory of pain grows, and the more often grief is brought before the mind, the more heavily it piles up. What then am I to do? Does the very act of laying bare one's grief yield any benefit of consolation at all? I will spread out before your mercy, Lord, the bitter sorrows of my soul, with which she is surrounded on account of the abundance of her own iniquities — for it's because of those same iniquities that she suffers the bitter absence of your most beautiful face.✦

Blindness and the Weight of Sin

The soul acknowledges that its own wickedness has blinded the inner eye and crushed every faculty beneath the burden of sin, crying out in desperation and even regretting its own existence.

This, then, my God — this is the deepest source of my grief: I know that by my own wickedness I have grievously offended your mercy, and that because of this same wickedness the eyes of my heart have been blinded, so that they cannot behold the light of the brightness they long to see. You made me to rejoice in you, and yet I have made myself so shameful that I blush to appear before you. For my iniquities have risen above my head, and like a heavy burden they have weighed down upon me. My mind is drunk with the gall of malice, and my soul is bent low under a weight of dead bones. My spirit is defiled with the mire of vice, and my heart is filled with the decay of injustice. My soul is entangled in the bonds of sin, and my whole being is crushed beneath the mass of my crimes.✦ Who, then, will come to my help, placed as I am in such a depth of misery? Who will stretch out a hand to me? Or is it true that by such great wickedness I alone have provoked God, so that neither he himself nor any of his creatures ought any longer to look upon me? Alas for me! Why — no, for what purpose — ought I to have remained in this world even one hour after I was born, so that such great evils against God should have been carried out by me?

Life Prolonged, Repentance Pretended

The soul questions why life is extended for repentance when repentance itself is only feigned, lamenting the hardness of heart that refuses to let sin go even as God's patience invites return.

Why has my life been given to me for so long, when it is being scattered entirely among my corrupt attachments? But why do I lament the prolonging of my life, when I know that through it God is inviting me to repentance? Don't you know — the Apostle says — that God's patience is leading you to repentance? But you, because of your hardness and unrepentant heart, are storing up wrath for yourself on the day of wrath and of the revelation of God's righteous judgment.1 So life is granted to me for this very purpose: that it may be set right. Why, then, isn't this happening? If life is being postponed for the sake of repentance, why is repentance itself being only pretended? If God is sparing my soul by holding back for a time, why doesn't my soul spare itself by letting its sins go? O the unfeeling hardness of my heart!

The Double Anguish of Body and Absence

The soul finds itself trapped in a double bind: estranged from God while in the body, yet afraid to leave the body lest the absence from God be worse, unable to desire the blessedness it knows to be best.

Death is postponed for this reason: so that life may be improved — and yet, while life is prolonged, a worse death is being stored up. Either way, there's anguish. When I'm in the body I'm a stranger to the Lord, and I fear that because of my sins things may be worse for me outside the body — so I'm afraid to depart this body. I grieve at being deprived of God's presence, and yet I'm afraid to undergo the absence of this corruptible body, without which I cannot be joined to the presence of God.✦ What is it, Lord — what is it that the heart of this sinner is gazing upon, and cannot find words to explain? Surely, good Jesus, to be set free and to be with you is by far the best thing of all.✦ Why, then, is what's proven to be the best not even desired? To be freed from this mortal body and to be with Christ — that is blessedness. To be chained to the body and to be apart from Christ — that is misery.✦ How is it, then, that the loss of misery is feared, and the gaining of blessedness is not even desired?

Misery Loved, Blessedness Feared

The soul recognizes that uncertainty about being with Christ after death makes it cling to the misery of this life, warning that loving present misery leads to eternal misery, sharpened by the very mercy that delayed judgment.

But this is the reason why being set free from the body is not something we desire: because after death, it's uncertain whether we'll actually be with Christ. And so remaining in the flesh is therefore judged to be useful for us, because while we live in it, we hope for the improvement of our life. Woe to the sins of those people whose guilt brings it about that the very misery of human life is judged to be useful! Isn't this entire present life nothing but misery? And yet this misery is sometimes useful even to the just themselves, for the increase of good merit; but for the unjust it is especially necessary as a remedy for repentance. Indeed, this same misery seems especially something good minds ought to mourn when it is loved too much and dangerously by the foolish. Because when someone persists in loving this life, through that very misery one arrives at eternal misery, and the passage is made in a wretched way — through misery to misery — while the present misery is spent in the toil of desires, and from there the eternal misery that follows is endured in everlasting pain. But that eternal misery will surely be all the sharper in its vengeance, the longer the misery of the present life has been mercifully postponed by Christ for the sake of repentance.

Why Do I Not Fear Your Judgments?

The soul appeals to God's eternal nature, then interrogates itself for loving what must be lost, for failing to fear divine judgment, and for being flattered by vices that block all thought of God's justice.

O Father, you truly are, since you are supreme, because you yourself are, and your years do not fail — help me, crushed by misery. If the very misery I suffer is being held back by your mercy, to avoid a greater misery — something that penance would normally accomplish — why then is this misery itself loved? Why do I love what I must sooner lose, and not desire what could make me blessed once the misery of this present life is over? If I cannot bring myself to love the blessedness you promise to those who love you, as much as it would benefit me — why, then, do I not at least fear the punishments you threaten to those who despise you — from which, alas! I am the one — and I do not tremble? For if I feared those things, I would in some measure correct myself, and it would come about — with your mercy providing — that through fear and correction I would at last arrive at love. Why, then, do I not fear your judgments, unless it is because I neglect to think about them? So that I may not think of them more often, my vices — flattering me with deadly pleasures and delights — never stop getting in my way.

Servant of Sin, Servant of God

The soul claims identity as God's servant and the Church's child, yet confesses it is truly a servant of sin by its actions, finding its only claim to servanthood in the desire God Himself has granted.

O Lord, Lord, behold, I am your servant and the son of your handmaid.✦ Because even if I am a sinner, yet I am a son of your holy Church. But what did I say? With what boldness did I presume to call myself your servant, since I was not unaware that I myself am a servant of sins? For everyone who commits sin is a servant of sin; but I never cease to sin: therefore I am a servant of sin. How then have I dared to call myself your servant?✦ I would certainly not say this, had I not presumed upon your ineffable compassion so as to dare to speak these things — because even though I am a servant of sin on account of the weakness I endure from iniquity, yet I am your servant through the desire granted to me, which I rejoice in from your venerable goodness.2 I am your servant, then, Lord — if not by work and conduct, at least by affection and will. But in this I am miserable and greatly to be lamented: although I recognize that I am your servant, I do not strive to offer you the honor of the Lord, as it would be fitting for me to do. For if I were to do this, there would be nothing to call me away from the memory of you, and from the desire of you that understands you, from the blessed sweetness of your love.

Why Do I Live So Badly?

The soul cries out that knowing God as Lord has not produced a life worthy of a servant, acknowledging that its own iniquity deserves this misery and that prolonged life has become worse than death.

My Lord, my Lord — why, when you are my Lord, do I not live as your servant ought to live?3 I know you as my God, and I long to be your servant. Why can I not hold to the life of your true servant in the way I live? But why do I look for the cause of this misery of mine, when I have no doubt that my own iniquity has deserved it?4 Alas for me! Why do I go on living?5 Why do I live on so long, when I live so badly?6 And so I'm allowed to live only so that I might escape death — and life itself turns out to be worse than death.7

The Beauty of God and the Soul's Filth

The soul contrasts God's unspeakable brightness with its own baseness, calling on every inner faculty to seek the supreme Good through sighs and tears, confessing its multiplied evils and estrangement from all good.

You grant me, my most wise Creator, the grace to prepare myself to contemplate your beauty, yet I keep showing myself more base with each passing day. What, my God, is more beautiful than your unspeakable brightness, and what is more base than my wickedness! O my whole heart, delight in sighs — and by their zeal and by your beauty, be illuminated, and let your inner eye be raised more easily to the brightness of the heavenly light that is to be contemplated! O my whole soul, put away all your wanderings now, give your attention to the divine splendor alone, and from longing for it pour out rich showers of tears — by whose flooding both your innumerable filthy guilts may be washed away, and the natural beauty which the good Craftsman of all things bestowed on you may be restored to you, as his mercy watches over you. O — I say — all my inmost parts, take up your strength, exert your whole effort to seek that pure, simple, eternal, and only blessed good: whose light may drive back your darkness, whose clearest fountain may wash away your contagions, whose freedom may loose the bonds of those who are bound under the dominion of vices, whose strength may strengthen your weakness, whose wisdom may empty out your foolishness, whose life may snatch you from eternal death and unite you to his immortality! O good that surpasses all goods, because from you and in you are all goods — for you are indeed all good! I confess that my evils are excessive, that my sins are exceedingly many and grievous, and that my vices have multiplied beyond measure — because my soul has been miserably intent upon them until now. O my evils, why have you rushed upon me so cruelly that you would make me estranged from every good?

Entangled in Sin, Returning to the Father

The soul laments being held captive by sins and vices that allow no freedom of justice, yet finds hope in God's longsuffering and resolves to approach the Father as the prodigal son, unworthy but hungering for home.

O my sins, how mercilessly you hold me entangled in your knots, so that you allow me no freedom of justice to draw near! O my vices, why with your death-bringing allurements do you cling to my mind — just as a dormouse is known to gnaw through a staff stained with its own tenacity — so that you allow me to walk by no set path, not even crawling?8 My mind, be distressed; my heart, waste away; my soul, be horrified; my eyes, fail with weeping. For what can be found more wretched than me in every condition? All things faithfully keep the order appointed for them; I violate it daily. But the one who tolerates the sinner for so long — will he not receive the repentant one? This cannot happen unless he allows me to live. I will therefore approach my Father, though I am an unworthy son; I will approach him after the innocence he gave me has been squandered, after the long hunger for heavenly utterance that I endure.✦

The Prodigal's Prayer and the Fattened Calf

The soul speaks the prodigal's words to the Father, begging to be received not as a son but as a hired servant, pleading for the ring, the robe, and the fattened calf — Christ Himself sacrificed on the cross.

And I will say to him: Father. Now I am no longer worthy to be called your son; I don't presume to contend with sons over dignity, but with servants I seek mercy, and so make me like one of your hired hands.✦9 From this, merciful Father, your clemency will be proclaimed, and your riches will not be diminished—if you meet me as I long to return to you, if you embrace me in the arms of your mercy, if you command me to be clothed with the ring of faith and the robe of justice, if you deign to say to your angels of me: We must rejoice, because this son of mine was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and is found.✦1011 But who, O best and most wonderful Father, will give me from that fattened calf—worthy to be eaten with the affection of faith and holiness—which you commanded to be sacrificed on the altar of the cross for my redemption?✦12 And who is this calf, so gentle to be sacrificed, so wholesome to be eaten, if not your own only-begotten Son, whom you did not spare but handed him over for all of us?✦13 This is he, Lord—this is he whose sweetness my heart longs to be refreshed by; this is he whom my mind strives to love above all things. This is he whose absence my soul complains of, unable to be separated without great groans; but while I desire the Son, surely I don't neglect the Father?14 Far be it!

Seeking the Face of the Trinity

The soul affirms that longing for the Son is inseparable from the Father and the Holy Spirit, then cries out with Psalm 27: 'Your face, Lord, I will seek,' asking when the door will be opened and confessing that only God's face is its consolation.

For how can this be done, since the Father who begot is none other than the Son who is begotten, but what the Father is, the Son is — though the one who is the Son is not himself the Father? But how can I long for the Father and the Son with the love of the Father and the Son removed — a love that is nothing other than what the Father and the Son are, even though it is other than the Father and the Son? By no means whatever. Say then, my soul, say to your Maker, to the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, the one God: I have sought your face; your face, Lord, I will seek.✦ Look, Lord — look, I seek, I ask, and I knock.✦ When will I find? When will I receive? When will the door be opened to me?✦ To you, Lord, the secrets of my heart lie open; you see that the mere presence of your face is the hope of my consolation. Alas for me!

How Long Will You Torment Me?

The soul groans at the distance from God's ineffable joy, pleading for the radiant face without which it remains in darkness, vowing to refuse all consolation until God gladdens it with His presence.

How far I've been cast away from that ineffable joy of his presence — how, then, can I be consoled? Can it be, Lord, unless that beauty of your face appears — the one on which the hope of all my consolation hangs? So then, my God — let my eyes fail as they strain toward your word, crying out: When will you comfort me? Listen, then, my God, to the singular longing of my soul; attend to the groaning of my heart, and place my tears before you — tears I pour out from the grief with which my soul is stricken because your face is absent and I am wasting away. For my life has faded away in sorrow, and my years have been spent in sighs (Psalm✦15 XXX, 11) Have mercy on me, Lord, have mercy on me. In season and out of season I will cry out to you, and I will not leave you until you have gladdened me with the presence of your face. I will refuse every consolation to myself, and I will claim for myself only the grief that comes from the absence of your face.✦1617 O radiant face! O luminous face of God! As long as I cannot see you, my soul will remain in darkness.

O Harsh Absence, O Burdensome Life

The soul addresses both the absence of God's face and the burdensome life of this vain age, demanding of itself why it does not shudder, flee, and run toward the blessed life instead of lingering in filth and glittering chains.

O harsh, O bitter absence of the face of God — how long will you torment me? O burdensome life of this vain age — how long will you hold my unhappy soul, dwelling in your vanities as though it were shut up in a prison? O my soul, what is there in this mortal life that delights you? Why do you not hasten to reach the happiness of the divine vision, from which you are separated by guilt, as you deserve? Why do you not shudder at being a stranger to the face of God, and at being ensnared by the glittering chains of this life? Why do you not long with such great desire to share in the joys of that blessed life, and to be free from the filth of this foul life? Why do you not flee from this life and run toward that one? If this life is granted to you as a truce, why do you delay?18

Hope, Perseverance, and the Final Amen

The soul resolves to offer swift repentance, trusting that God's mercy will strengthen its longing and that it will not be estranged from blessedness if it does not grow weary of desiring God, closing with a doxological outpouring of love and a final Amen.

Why not offer God such repentance quickly, so that he may grant pardon for your sins and mercifully take you back to himself? But my conversion is to you — so that your mercy may look upon me, and your clemency may strengthen my mind in longing for your face and make me persevere. For I believe I will not be estranged from blessedness, if in desiring you I have not grown weary. Let my soul desire the glory of your face continually; let my mind love it; let my thought fix upon it; let the whole affection of my heart sigh toward it; let my tongue speak of it; let my whole being be absorbed in love of it. Let your goodness alone command me, while I bear this mortal body and endure the bonds of my pilgrimage — to be grounded in fear of you, magnanimous in love of you, instructed in your law, devoted to your precepts, most fervent in desiring your promises, a trampler of vices and a cultivator of virtues. Adorned with these, may I always please you and come to you as swiftly and happily as I can — where glory is yours without end, praise without limit, honor forever and ever.✦ Amen.

Read the original Latin

Non sufficit, Domine, non sufficit peccatrici animae meae quod ex abundantia ineffabilis clementiae tuae sua sibi sperat relaxari peccata, nisi dolorem suum, quem patitur de absentia vultus tui, querimoniam suam saltem coram te exponendo, quoquo modo studeat relaxari. Peregrinatur enim a te, et hoc propter iniquitates suas. Ubi ergo mihi caput sermonis occurretur, dolorem meum intendo consolari, et eum intueor acquisita consolatione augmentari. Ipsa enim inquisitio consolationis menti memoriam repraesentat doloris. Consolationem namque de dolore non quaererem, nisi me dolere meminissem, quia ex memoria doloris quaeritur refugium consolationis, et ex appetitu consolationis augetur memoria doloris, et quo saepius dolor menti repraesentatur, eo majori augmento cumulatur. Quid igitur facio? an ipsa expositio doloris qualecunque dat emolumentum consolationis? Expandam ergo, Domine, coram misericordia tua amaritudines animae meae, quibus circumdata est ex abundantia iniquitatum suarum: propter easdem enim iniquitates amaram patitur absentiam pulcherrimae faciei tuae.

Hinc itaque, Deus meus, hinc est summa doloris mei, quia cognosco me clementiam tuam mea iniquitate graviter offendisse, et oculos cordis mei ob eamdem iniquitatem, ne desiderandae claritatis tuae lumen aspiciant, caecatos fuisse. Fecisti me, ut gauderem de te, et ego tam turpem me feci, ut erubescam apparere coram te. Iniquitates enim meae supergressae sunt caput meum, et sicut onus grave gravatae sunt super me; mens mea malitiae felle inebriata est, et anima mea pondere sceletum incurvata est, animus meus vitiorum luto faedatus est, et cor meum injustitiae tabe repletum est; anima mea peccatorum nexibus irretita est, et tota substantia mea mole criminum oppressa est. Quis ergo mihi in tanta miseriarum profunditate constituto subveniet? Quis manum porriget? An ego, quod verum est, tanta iniquitate Deum solus exacerbavi ut nec ipse, nec aliqua creatura sua me ulterius jure debeat intueri. Heu mihi! quare vel una hora postquam natus fui in hoc mundo manere debui, ut tanta a me mala contra Deum deberent exerceri?

Quare mihi vita tam diu conceditur, quae tota vitiosis affectibus dissipatur? Sed dilationem vitae cur deploro, quando me per eam ad poenitentiam a Deo invitari cognosco? An ignoras, ait Apostolus, quia patientia Dei ad poenitentiam te adducit: tu autem secundum duritiam tuam, et cor impoenitens, thesaurizas tibi iram in die irae et revelationis justi judicii Dei? Ad hoc ergo mihi vita praestatur ut eadem emendetur. Cur igitur non fiat ista? si propter poenitentiam vita differtur, quare poenitentia ipsa simulatur? Si Deus animae meae parcit, ad tempus subsistendo, quare ipsa sibi non parcit, peccata dimittendo? O insensibilis duritia cordis mei!

ob hoc mors differtur, ut vita melioretur, et dum vita prolongatur, mors deterior acquiritur. Utrobique angustia. Cum sum in corpore, peregrinor a Domino et ne mihi propter peccata mea extra corpus pejus sit, exire de corpore pertimesco, praesentia Dei privari doleo, et absentiam corruptibilis corporis, sine qua praesentiae Dei sociari non possum, subire pertimesco. Quid est, Domine, quid est quod cor hujus peccatoris intuetur, et verbis explicare non sufficit. Certe, bone Jesu, dissolvi et tecum esse multo magis optimum est. Quare ergo non desideratur quod optimum esse probatur. Dissolvi a mortali corpore et esse cum Christo, beatitudo est; ligari corpore, et abesse a Christo, miseria est. Ut quid igitur miseria timetur amitti, et beatitudo non desideratur haberi?

Sed haec est causa quare a nobis a corpore dissolvi non appetitur, quia post dissolutionem utrum cum Christo esse contingat dubitatur. Ac per hoc commoratio in carne idcirco utilis esse judicatur, quia dum in ea vivitur, melioratio vitae speratur. Vae peccatis hominum, quorum merito agitur ut ipsa vitae humanae miseria utilis judicetur! Nonne tota praesens vita miseria? et tamen haec miseria nonnunquam ipsis etiam justis utilis est, propter boni meriti augmentum; injustis autem maxime necessaria propter poenitentiae medicamentum. Tunc vero haec eadem miseria praecipue bonis mentibus lugenda esse videtur, quando ab insipientibus nimis periculose amatur. Quia cum in ejus amore perseveratur, peripsam eamdem miseriam ad aeternam miseriam pervenitur, fitque modo miserabili per miseriam ad miseriam transitus, dum et praesens miseria expenditur in cupiditatum labore, et hinc succedens aeterna miseria sustinetur in sempiterno dolore. Sed et ipsa miseria aeterna eo utique erit acrior ad vindictam, quo praesentis vitae miseria a misericorde Christo diutius fuerit dilata propter poenitentiam.

O Pater, qui vere es, quoniam summe es, quia tu ipse es et anni tui non deficient, succurre mihi miseria oppresso. Si ipsa quam patior miseria, disponente misericordia tua, propter majorem miseriam devitandam, quod poenitentiae studio fieri solet, differtur, quare vel ipsa miseria amatur? Quare amo quod me necesse est citius amittere, et illud non desidero quod me praesentis vitae finita miseria posset beatificare? Si beatitudinem, quam te diligentibus promittis, prout mihi expediret amare non valeo, quare saltem supplicia, quae contemptoribus tuis minaris, ex quibus, proh dolor! ego sum unus, non expavesco? Si enim ea expavescerem, aliqua ex parte me ipsum emendarem, fieretque, misericordia tua praestante, ut per timorem ac correptionem pervenirem aliquando ad amorem. Quare autem judicia tua non timeo, nisi quia de eis negligo cogitare? Ne vero de eis frequentius valeam cogitare, vitia mea lethiferis amoenitatibus et voluptatibus mihi blandientia me impedire non desinunt.

O Domine, Domine, ecce ego servus tuus et filius ancillae tuae. Quia etsi peccator, tamen filius sanctae Ecclesiae tuae. Sed quid dixi, qua audacia praesumpsi nominare servum tuum cum servum me non ignorarem peccatorum? Omnis enim qui facit peccatum, servus est peccati; ego autem indesinenter peccare non desisto: servus ergo sum peccati; quomodo ergo me sum ausus nominare servum tuum? Non utique hoc dicerem, nisi quia de tua ineffabili miseratione praesumpsi ut haec dicere auderem, quia etsi servus peccati sum propter infirmitatem quam sustineo ex iniquitate, tamen servus tuus sum per desiderium quod mihi praestitum esse gaudeo ex tua venerabili bonitate. Servus ergo tuus sum, Domine, et si non opere et conversatione, certe affectu et voluntate. Sed in hoc miserabilis sum et valde deflendus quia, cum me servum tuum esse cognoscam, honorem Domini, sicut mihi expediret, tibi deferre non studeo. Si enim hoc agerem, nihil utique esset quod me a memoria tui, ac desiderio te intelligenti, a beata tui amoris dulcedine revocaret.

Domine meus, Domine meus, quare, tu cum sis Dominus meus, non vivo sicut debet vivere servus tuus? Te Deum meum cognosco, et servus tuus esse desidero. Quare vitam servi tui veri conversatione tenere non valeo? Sed cur hujus miseriae meae causam quaero, quando meam iniquitatem hanc promeruisse non ambigo? Heu mihi! ut quid vivo? quare tandiu vivo, qui tam male vivo. Idcirco mihi vivere conceditur ut mors evadatur; et vita ipsa deterior morte invenitur.

Concedis mihi, formator meus sapientissime, ut me ad contemplandam pulchritudinem tuam studeam praeparare, et ego me turpiorem non cesso quotidie exhibere. Quid, Deus meus, quid tua inenarrabili claritate pulchrius et quid mea iniquitate turpius! O totum cor meum, suspiriis delectare, quorum studio et tua pulchritudine illuminetur, et ad supernae lucis claritatem contemplandam tuus interior oculus facilius erigatur! O tota anima mea, jam omnes tuas depone vagationes, soli divino splendori intende, ex ejus desiderio opulentos lacrymarum imbres effunde, quarum inundatione et tui inenumerabiles coenosi reatus diluantur, et naturalis decor, quem tibi bonus universorum contulit artifex, ejus praesulante miseratione tibi repararetur! O, inquam, omnia intima mea, sumite vires, totum vestrum exerite conatum ad quaerendum illud sincerum, simplex, aeternum, et solum beatum bonum, cujus lux tenebras vestras repellat, cujus fons limpidissimus vestra contagia abluat, cujus libertas eos quibus sub vitiorum dominio constringimini vestros nexus absolvat, cujus fortitudo imbecillitatem vestram corroboret, cujus sapientia stultitiam vestram evacuet, cujus vita ab aeterna vos morte eripiat, et suae immortalitati consociet! O bonum quod superat omnia bona, quia a te et in te omnia bona; tu es enim omnia bona! Confiteor quia nimia sunt mala mea, quia nimis multa et gravia sunt peccata mea, et sine mensura multiplicata vitia mea, quia eis miserabiliter intenta hactenus exstitit anima mea. O mala mea, quare super me tam crudeliter irruistis ut me ab omni bono alienum efficeretis?

O peccata mea, quomodo me tam immisericorditer nodis vestris irretitum tenetis, ut nullam justitiae libertatem me adire permittatis? O vitia mea, ut quid lethiferis illecebris, sicut gliris bastulam suam tenacitate infectam vincere solet, animum meum vobis agglutinatis, ut ullo constitutum itinere, vel rependo, me, incedere sinatis. Mens mea, angustiare; cor meum defice; anima mea, exhorresce; oculi mei, plorando deficite. Quid enim me in omni statu miserabilius inveniri potest? Omnia constitutum sibi ordinem inviolabiliter servant; ego quotidie violo. Sed qui peccantem tandiu tolerat, poenitentem non suscipiet? Hoc fieri non potest, nisi ut me vivere permittat. Adibo ergo patrem meum, tametsi indignus filius; adibo illum post dissipatam ab illo mihi datam innocentiam, post diuturnam coelestis eloquii, quam tolero, famem.

Et dicam ei: Pater. jam non sum dignus vocari filius tuus; non cum filiis de dignitate praesumo certare, sed cum servis misericordiam quaero, et ideo fac me sicut unum ex mercenariis tuis. Praedicabitur inde, pie Pater, clementia tua, nec minuentur divitiae tuae, si mihi ad te cupienti redire occurras, si me misericordiae tuae brachiis amplectaris, si me fidei annulo et stola justitiae vestiri praecipias, si de me angelis tuis dicere digneris: Gaudere nos oportet, quoniam hic filius meus mortuus fuerat, et revixit; perierat, et inventus est. Sed quis, o Pater optime et admirabilis, quis dabit mihi de vitulo illo saginato digno fidei ac sanctitatis affectu comedere, quem pro mea redemptione in ara crucis immolari praecepisti? et quis iste vitulus tam mitis ad immolandum, tam salubris ad comedendum, nisi ille tuus proprius unigenitus Filius, cui non pepercisti, sed pro nobis omnibus illum tradidisti? Iste est, Domine, iste est, cujus dulcedine refici desiderat cor meum; hic est, quem prae omnibus amare affectat mens mea. Iste est, a cujus absentia non sine magnis gemitibus separari conqueritur anima mea; sed dum Filium desidero, nunquid Patrem negligo? Absit!

Hoc enim quomodo fieri potest, cum non sit aliud Pater qui genuit, quam qui genitus est Filius, sed hoc sit Pater quod Filius, licet non ipse sit Pater qui Filius? Sed quomodo possum desiderare Patrem et Filium, remoto amore Patris et Filii, qui non est aliud quam quod est Pater et Filius, tametsi alius sit quam Pater et Filius? Nulla utique ratione. Dic ergo, anima mea, dic factori tuo Patri et Filio et Spiritui sancto, uni Deo: Quaesivi vultum tuum; vultum tuum, Domine, requiram. Ecce, Domine, ecce quaero, peto et pulso. Quando inveniam, quando accipiam, quando mihi aperietur? Tibi, Domine, patent secreta cordis mei; tu vides quia sola praesentia vultus est spes consolationis meae. Heu mihi!

quam longe sum projectus ab illo ineffabili gaudio praesentiae illius: quomodo ergo consolabor? Nunquid, nisi illa, Domine, pulchritudo vultus tui appareat, in qua spes universae consolationis meae suspenditur? Deficiant ergo, Deus meus, deficiant oculi mei in eloquium tuum, dicentes: Quando consolaberis me. Attende ergo, Deus meus, ad singulare desiderium animae meae; attende gemitum cordis mei, et pone lacrymas meas in conspectu tuo, quas fundo ex dolore quo afficitur anima mea propter absentiam vultus tui deficiens: Quoniam defecit in dolore vita mea, et anni mei in gemitibus (Psal. XXX, 11) Miserere mei, Domine, miserere mei; opportune importune clamabo ad te, nec derelinquam te, donec de praesentia vultus tui laetificaveris me; omnem mihi negabo consolationem, solo de absentia vultus tui luctu me vindicabo. O vultus splendide! o facies Dei luminosa! quandiu non videbo te, manebit anima mea tenebrosa.

O dura, o amara absentia vultus Dei, quandiu me cruciabis? O molesta vita hujus saeculi vani, quandiu infelicem tua inhabitatione animam meam in tuis vanitatibus, tanquam carcere inclusam tenebis? O anima mea, quid te in hac vita mortali delectat? Cur non festinas ad felicitatem divinae visionis pervenire, a qua culpae merito separaris? Quare non horres peregrinari a facie Dei, et vitae hujus luculentis vinculis irretiri? Quare non tanto affectu concupiscis illius beatae vitae gaudiis interesse et hujus obscenae vitae spurcitiis abesse? Cur non istam fugis, et in illam curris? Si tibi ista vita ad inducias praestatur, quare tardas.

Quare Deo talem cito poenitentiam, ut peccatis tuis indulgeat et te misericorditer ad se assumat? Sed ad te conversio mea, ut me respiciat misericordia tua, et mentem meam in desiderio vultus tui confirmet, et perseverantem reddat clementia tua, credo enim quia a beatitudine non ero alienatus, si desiderando te non fuero fatigatus. Desideret gloriam vultus tui jugiter anima mea, amet eam mens mea, intendat in illam cogitatio mea, suspiret ad illam totus affectus cordis mei, loquatur de ea lingua mea, occupetur in amore illius tota substantia mea, tantummodo jubeat me pietas tua, dum hoc mortale corpus gero, et peregrinationis meae nexus sustineo, in timore esse tuo fundatum, in amore tuo magnanimum, in lege tua eruditum, in praeceptis tuis devotum, in promissis tuis desiderandi ferventissimum, vitiorum calcatorem et virtutum cultorem, quibus ornatus et tibi semper placere, et ad te quantocius feliciter pervenire valeam, ubi est tibi gloria sine fine, laus sine termino, honor in saecula. Amen.

Scripture echoes

  1. ↩Ps.27.8-Ps.27.9 — My heart says of you, 'Seek my face.' Your face, LORD, I will seek. Ps.27.9 — Do not hide your face from me; do not turn your servant away in anger. You have been my help; do not forsake me, and do not abandon me, God of my salvation.
  2. ↩Ps.38.4 — There is no soundness in my flesh because of your wrath; there is no peace in my bones because of my sin.
  3. ↩2Cor.5.6;Phil.1.23 — So we are always confident, and we know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. Phil.1.23 — But I am hard-pressed between the two, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, for it is far better;
  4. ↩Phil.1.23;Phil.1.23 — But I am hard-pressed between the two, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, for it is far better; Phil.1.23 — But I am hard-pressed between the two, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, for it is far better;
  5. ↩Phil.1.23 — But I am hard-pressed between the two, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, for it is far better;
  6. ↩Ps.116.16;Ps.86.16 — O LORD, I am your servant; I am your servant, the son of your maidservant. You have loosed my bonds. Ps.86.16 — Turn to me and be gracious to me; give your strength to your servant, and save the son of your maidservant.
  7. ↩John.8.34 — Jesus answered them, 'Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin.'
  8. ↩Luke.15.11-Luke.15.32 — And he said, "A certain man had two sons." Luke.15.12 — And the younger of them said to his father, 'Father, give me the share of the estate that falls to me.' And he divided his livelihood between them. Luke.15.13 — And not many days later, the younger son, having gathered everything together, departed to a distant country, and there he squandered his property by living recklessly. Luke.15.14 — And after he had spent everything, a severe famine struck that region, and he began to be in want. Luke.15.15 — And he went and attached himself to one of the citizens of that country, and he sent him to his fields to feed pigs. Luke.15.16 — He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, and no one gave him anything. Luke.15.17 — But when he came to himself, he said, 'How many of my father's hired workers have bread enough to spare, and here I am perishing of hunger!' Luke.15.18 — I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you.' Luke.15.19 — I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me as one of your hired servants. Luke.15.20 — And he got up and went to his own father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with compassion, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him. Luke.15.21 — And the son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.' Luke.15.22 — But the father said to his servants, 'Quickly, bring out the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet.' Luke.15.23 — And bring the fattened calf, kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. Luke.15.24 — because this son of mine was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and has been found. And they began to celebrate. Luke.15.25 — Now his older son was in the field; and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. Luke.15.26 — And he called one of the servants and asked him what these things might be. Luke.15.27 — But he said to him, 'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf, because he has received him back safe and sound.' Luke.15.28 — But he was angry and refused to go in. So his father came out and pleaded with him. Luke.15.29 — But he answered his father, 'Look, all these years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me even a young goat so that I could celebrate with my friends.' Luke.15.30 — but when this son of yours who has devoured your livelihood with prostitutes came, you killed the fattened calf for him Luke.15.31 — And he said to him, 'Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.' Luke.15.32 — But we had to celebrate and be glad, for this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.
  9. ↩Luke.15.18-Luke.15.19 — I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you.' Luke.15.19 — I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me as one of your hired servants.
  10. ↩Luke.15.22-Luke.15.24 — But the father said to his servants, 'Quickly, bring out the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet.' Luke.15.23 — And bring the fattened calf, kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. Luke.15.24 — because this son of mine was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and has been found. And they began to celebrate.
  11. ↩Luke.15.23 — And bring the fattened calf, kill it, and let us eat and celebrate.
  12. ↩Rom.8.32 — He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?
  13. ↩Ps.27.8 — My heart says of you, 'Seek my face.' Your face, LORD, I will seek.
  14. ↩Matt.7.7;Luke.11.9 — Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. Luke.11.9 — And I tell you: ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you.
  15. ↩Rev.3.20 — Look, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to them and eat with them, and they with me.
  16. ↩Ps.30.11;Ps.32.10 — You turned my wailing into dancing for me; you removed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness. Ps.32.10 — Many are the sorrows of the wicked, but whoever trusts in the LORD, steadfast love surrounds him.
  17. ↩Ps.30.11 — You turned my wailing into dancing for me; you removed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness.
  18. ↩Ps.27.8;Ps.42.2 — My heart says of you, 'Seek my face.' Your face, LORD, I will seek. Ps.42.2 — As a deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, God.

Notes

  1. 1 ↩The Apostle's statement echoes Romans 2:4–5. Final resolution of quotation status deferred to tx-08 Moses resolution.
  2. 2 ↩The double claim — servant of sin through weakness, yet servant of God through desire — holds together the tension between ongoing sin and grace-given longing. The Latin 'desiderium quod mihi praestitum esse gaudeo' frames the desire itself as a gift.
  3. 3 ↩cum with subjunctive sis rendered concessively ('when/although you are') rather than causally ('since you are'), following the complaint register of the meditation.
  4. 4 ↩quando rendered with causal force ('when/since') in this rhetorical question, not as a temporal 'when.'
  5. 5 ↩ut quid: exclamatory/interrogative construction rendered as 'why' to capture the speaker's anguished tone.
  6. 6 ↩qui rendered as a causal conjunction ('when/since') linking the two clauses, rather than as a relative pronoun.
  7. 7 ↩ut with subjunctive evadatur: purpose clause rendered 'so that.'
  8. 8 ↩The unusual simile of the dormouse (gliris) and staff (bastulam) is rendered literally; the image conveys how vices, through persistent attachment, destroy the very instrument meant to support progress.
  9. 9 ↩The two cum-clauses (cum filiis, cum servis) function concessively/adversatively: the speaker renounces any claim to son's dignity and instead takes the posture of a servant.
  10. 10 ↩The four si-clauses are conditional protases building a cumulative plea; each enacts a stage of the prodigal's restoration (meeting, embracing, clothing, feasting).
  11. 11 ↩The quoted speech (Gaudere nos oportet…inventus est) closely echoes Luke 15:32 (Vulgate). Final resolution deferred to tx-08 Moses pass.
  12. 12 ↩The fattened calf (vitulus saginato) is a Eucharistic image overlaid on the prodigal-son parable: the Father's banquet becomes the sacrifice of Christ on the cross. Digno fidei ac sanctitatis affectu modifies comedere, indicating the interior disposition required.
  13. 13 ↩The nisi-clause identifies the calf exclusively with Christ. The language of not sparing echoes Romans 8:32 (Vulgate: 'nec proprio Filio pepercit').
  14. 14 ↩The nunquid clause is a rhetorical question expecting a negative answer: the speaker insists that desiring the Son does not mean neglecting the Father, reflecting Trinitarian unity.
  15. 15 ↩The parenthetical '(Psal.' is an incomplete Psalm citation; the following sentence supplies the number XXX, 11, likely Psalm 30:11 (Vulgate numbering). Final resolution deferred to tx-08 Moses stage.
  16. 16 ↩The psalm citation 'XXX, 11' is supplied by the text tradition; likely Psalm 30:11 (Vulgate). The quotation 'Miserere mei, Domine' echoes the psalm's opening. Final resolution deferred to tx-08 Moses stage.
  17. 17 ↩'vindicabo' rendered as 'I will claim for myself' rather than 'avenge' to capture the sense of appropriating one's own grief as a form of fidelity, not retaliation.
  18. 18 ↩ad inducias — 'as a truce' — frames mortal life as a temporary reprieve, a brief respite before the final reckoning. The metaphor carries martial overtones: a ceasefire, not a peace.

Orationes sive Meditationes — Collection for Princess Adeliza of Normandy companion

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