Letters of Catherine Benincasa by Catherine Benincasa

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So, in this letter, we find the daughter encouraging the father, with
reflections much in the temper of Browning:

"Was the trial sore,
Temptation sharp? Thank God a second time!
Why come temptations but for man to meet,
And master, and make crouch beneath his feet,
And so be pedestalled in triumph!"

In the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:

Reverend father in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of
the servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with
desire to see you and the other sons clothed in the wedding garment that
covers all our nakedness. That is a protection which does not let the
blows of our adversary the devil pierce our flesh with mortal wound, but
makes us rather strengthened than weakened by every blow of temptation or
molesting of devils or fellow-creatures or our own flesh, rebellious to
the spirit. I say that these blows not only do not hurt us, but they shall
be precious stones and pearls placed on this garment of most burning
charity.

Now suppose there should be a soul that did not have to endure many
labours and temptations, from whatever direction and in whatever wise God
may grant them. No virtue would be tested in it; for virtue is tested by
its opposite. How is purity tested and won? Through the contrary--that is,
through the vexations of uncleanliness. For were a man unclean already,
there would be no need for him to be molested by unclean reflections, but
because it is evident that his will is free from all depraved consenting,
and purified from every spot by his holy and true desire to serve his
Creator, therefore the devil, the world, and the flesh molest him. Yes,
everything is driven out by its opposite. See how humility is won through
pride. When a man sees himself molested by that vice of pride, at once he
humbles himself, recognizing himself to be faulty--proud: while had he not
been so molested he would not have known himself so well. When he has
humbled and seen himself, he conceives hatred in such wise that he joys
and exults in every pain and injury that he bears. Such a one is like a
manful knight, who does not avoid blows. Nay, he holds him unworthy of so
great grace, as it seems to him to be, to bear pain, temptations and
vexations for Christ crucified. All is through the hate he has for
himself, and the love he has conceived for virtue.

So you see that we are not to flee nor to grieve in the time of darkness,
since from the darkness light is born. O God, sweet Love, what sweet
doctrine Thou givest, that through the contrary of virtue, virtue is won!
Out of impatience is won patience; for the soul that feels the vice of
impatience becomes patient over the injury received, and is impatient
toward the vice of impatience, and is more hurt because it is hurt than
over anything else. And so out of the very contrary its perfection comes
to be won. It is not aware of this; it finds itself become perfect in many
storms and temptations. In no other wise does one ever arrive at the
harbour of perfection.

Yea, meditate on this: that the soul can never receive nor desire virtue,
unless it has cravings, vexations and temptations to endure with true and
holy patience for the love of Christ crucified. We ought, then, to joy and
exult in the time of conflicts, vexations and shadows, since from them
proceeds such virtue and delight. Oh me, my son given me by Mary that
sweet mother, I do not want you to fall into weariness or confusion
through any vexations that you might feel in your mind; but I want you to
keep that good and holy and true faithful will which I know that God in
His mercy has given you. I know that you would rather die than offend Him
mortally. Yes, I want that out of the shadows should issue knowledge of
yourself, free from confusion; out of your goodwill should issue knowledge
of the infinite goodness and unspeakable charity of God; and in this
knowledge may our soul abide and fatten. Reflect that through love He
keeps your will good, and does not let it run by its own consent or
pleasure after the suggestions of the devil. And so, through love, He has
permitted to you and me and His other servants, the many vexations and
deceits of the devil and fellow-creatures and our own flesh, solely in
order that we might rise from negligence, and reach perfect zeal, true
humility and most ardent charity: humility which comes from knowledge of
self, and charity which comes from knowledge of the goodness of God. There
is the soul inspired and consumed by love.

Joy, father, and exult; and comfort you, without any servile fear, and
fear not, for any thing that you should see happen. But comfort you: for
perfection is near you. And answer the devil saying: "That power against
you did not work through me, since it was not in me; it works through
grace of the infinite pity and mercy of God." Yes, through Christ
crucified you shall be able to do all things. Carry on all your works with
living faith; and do not wonder should you see some contrary circumstance
present itself which seemed to oppose your work. Comfort you, comfort you,
because the Sweet Primal Truth has promised to fulfil your and my desire
for you. Slay yourself through your burning desire, with the Lamb that was
slain; rest you upon the Cross with Christ crucified. Rejoice in Christ
crucified; rejoice in pains; steep yourself in shames for Christ
crucified; graft your heart and your affection into the tree of the most
holy Cross with Christ crucified, and make in His wounds your habitation.
And pardon me, cause and instrument that I am of your every pain and
imperfection; for were I an instrument of virtue, you and others would
breathe the fragrance of virtue. And I do not say these words because I
want you to suffer, for your suffering would be mine; but that you may
have compassion, you and the other sons, upon my miseries. I hope and
firmly hold, through the grace of the Holy Spirit, that He will put limit
and end to all those things that are apart from the will of God.

Reflect that I, poor miserable woman, abide in the body, and find me
through desire continually away from the body. Oh me, sweet and good
Jesus! I die and cannot die, my heart breaks and cannot break, from the
desire that I have of the renewal of Holy Church, for the honour of God
and the salvation of every creature; and to see you and the others arrayed
in purity, burned and consumed in His most ardent charity!

Tell Christ on earth not to make me wait longer; and when I shall see him,
I shall sing with Simeon, that sweet old man: "Nunc dimittis servum tuum,
Domine, secundum verbum tuum, in pace." I say no more; for did I follow my
wish, I should begin again at once. Make me see and feel you bound and
fastened into Christ sweet Jesus, in such wise that nor demon nor creature
can ever separate you from so sweet a bond. Love, love, love one another.
Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.

TO CATARINA OF THE HOSPITAL AND GIOVANNA DI CAPO

From the comparative quiet of her home Catherine looks off to far
horizons, surveying the religious and political world. She can encourage
Fra Raimondo, yet the sword has pierced her heart. This letter is full of
sickening recognition of evils that hold grave prevision of worse
disaster. Even now we see clearly formed in Catherine's mind that strange
sense of responsibility for the sins of her time, so illogical to the
natural, so inevitable to the spiritual vision. "I believe that I am the
wretched woman who is the cause of so great evils!" Thus she cries, not in
rhetorical figure of speech, but in deep conviction. It is a conviction
destined to grow more intense till it leads direct to her spiritual
martyrdom.

Out of her pain she turns to the simple women, her daughters and
companions in faith, calling on them to join her in the life of
intercession and expiation. Then her thought fastens on one little lamb of
the flock--one who had strayed and been rescued, and was in danger of
straying again; and in care for this one soul needing shelter and strength
she finds comfort. Catherine's sense of proportion is that of the
spiritual man so finely presented by Browning in the person of Lazarus.
Let Andrea be saved, and the corruption of the Church will seem less
painful! She can say as her last word, "Sweet daughters, now is the time
for toils, which must be our consolations in Christ crucified."

In the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:

Dearest daughters in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of
the servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood, with
desire to see you established in true patience and deep humility, so that
you may follow the sweet and Spotless Lamb, for you could not follow Him
in other wise. Now is the time, my daughters, to show if we have virtue,
and if you are daughters or not. It behoves you to bear with patience the
persecutions and detractions, slanders and criticisms of your fellow-
creatures, with true humility, and not with annoyance or impatience; nor
must you lift up your head in pride against any person whatever. Know well
that this is the teaching which has been given us, that it behoves us to
receive on the Cross the food of the honour of God and the salvation of
souls, with holy and true patience. Ah me, sweetest daughters, I summon
you on behalf of the Sweet Primal Truth to awaken from the sleep of
negligence and selfish love of yourselves, and to offer humble and
continual prayers, with many vigils, and with knowledge of yourselves,
because the world is perishing through the crowding multitude of
iniquities, and the irreverence shown to the sweet Bride of Christ. Well,
then, let us give honour to God, and our toils to our neighbour. Ah, me,
do not be willing, you or the other servants of God, that our life should
end otherwise than in mourning and in sighs, for by no other means can be
appeased the wrath of God, which is evidently falling upon us.

Ah, me, misfortunate! My daughters, I believe that I am the wretched woman
who is the cause of so many evils, on account of the great ingratitude and
other faults which I have committed toward my Creator. Ah, me! ah, me! Who
is God, who is wronged by His creatures? He is Highest and eternal
Goodness, who in His love created man in His image and likeness, and re-
created him by grace, after his sin, in the Blood of the immaculate and
enamoured Lamb, His Only-Begotten Son. And who is mercenary and ignorant
man, who wrongs his Creator? We are those who are not ourselves by
ourselves, save in so far as we are made by God, but by ourselves we are
full of every wretchedness. It seems as if people sought nothing except in
what way they could wrong God and their fellow-creatures, in contempt of
the Creator. We see with our wretched eyes that Blood which has given us
life persecuted in the holy Church of God. Then let our hearts break in
torment and grieving desire; let life stay in our body no more, but let us
rather die than behold God so reviled. I die in life, and demand death
from my Creator and cannot have it. Better were it for me to die than to
live, instead of beholding such disaster as has befallen and is to befall
the Christian people.

Let us draw the weapons of holy prayer, for other help I see not. That
time of persecution has come upon the servants of God when they must hide
in the caves of knowledge of themselves and of God, craving His mercy
through the merits of the Blood of His Son. I will say no more, for if I
did according to my choice, my daughters, I should never rest until God
removed me from this life.

To thee now I say, Andrea, that he who begins only never receives the
crown of glory, but he who perseveres till death. O daughter mine, thou
hast begun to put thy hand to the plough of virtue, leaving the parbreak
of mortal sin; it behoves thee, then, to persevere, to receive the reward
of thy labour, which thy soul endures, choosing to bridle its youth, that
it may not run to be a member of the devil. Ah me, my daughter! And hast
thou not reflection that thou wast once a member of the devil, sleeping in
the filth of impurity, and that God by His mercy drew thee from that great
misery in which thou wast, thy soul and thy body? It does not befit thee,
then, to be ungrateful nor forgetful, for evil would befall thee, and the
devil would come back with seven companions stronger than at first. Then
thou shalt show the grace thou hast received by being grateful and
mindful, when thou shalt be strong in battles with the devil, the world,
and thy flesh, which vexes thee; thou must be persevering in virtue.
Cling, my daughter, if thou wilt escape such vexations, to the Tree of the
most holy Cross, in bodily abstinence, in vigil and in prayer, bathing
thee by holy desire in the blood of Christ crucified. So thou shalt attain
the life of grace, and do the will of God, and fulfil my desire, which
longs to have thee a true servant of Christ crucified. I beg thee
therefore not to be a child any longer, and to choose for Bridegroom
Christ crucified, who has bought thee with His Blood. If thou yet wishest
the life of the world, it befits thee to wait long enough so that the way
can be found of giving it to thee in a way that shall be for the honour of
God and for thy good. Be subject and obedient till death, and do not
contradict the will of Catarina and Giovanna, who I know will never
counsel thee or tell thee anything that is not for the honour of God and
the salvation of thy soul and body. If thou dost not behave so, thou wilt
displease me very much, and do thyself little good. I hope in the goodness
of God that thou wilt so act that He will be honoured, and thou shalt have
thy reward and give me great consolation.

I tell thee, Catarina and Giovanna, to work till death for the honour of
God and her salvation. Sweet daughters, now is the time for toils, which
must be our consolations in Christ crucified. I say no more. Remain in the
holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.

TO SISTER DANIELLA OF ORVIETO
CLOTHED WITH THE HABIT OF SAINT DOMINIC WHO NOT BEING ABLE TO CARRY OUT
HER GREAT PENANCES HAD FALLEN INTO DEEP AFFLICTION

Catherine's beloved sister Daniella is in trouble. As happened to many
others leading the dedicated life in the middle ages, she has carried her
scorn of the body past all bounds of reason, has fallen ill and been
obliged to care for her poor physical nature. Catherine, who is
perpetually trying to raise Fra Raimondo and others in her spiritual
family to more heroic heights, recognizes the different needs of this
over-eager soul. She writes her friend, therefore, a long and tender
letter, one of the most elaborate among her many analyses of the means
that lead to perfection, urging upon her discretion and a sense of
proportion in spiritual things. It is noteworthy that Catherine's
exhortations to impassioned sacrifice are almost always delivered in
connection with the claims of active service, to the Church or fellow-men.
When writing to "contemplatives" absorbed in the ecstasies and trials of
the interior life, her habitual warnings are against excess, her constant
plea, as here, for a perception of relative values. She ranks, herself,
alike as a great "contemplative" and as a great woman of action: both
phases of experience relate to something deeper. Her soul was athirst for
the Infinite, and well she knew that neither in deeds nor in ascetic
ecstasy, but only in "holy desire," in the life of ceaseless aspiration
"which prays for ever in the presence of God," can our mortality attain to
untrammelled union with Infinite Being.

In the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:

Dearest daughter and sister in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant
and slave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to thee in His precious
Blood, with desire to see in thee the holy virtue of discretion, which it
is necessary for us to have if we wish to be saved. Why is it so
necessary? Because it proceeds from the knowledge of ourselves and of God;
in this house its roots are planted. It is really an offspring of charity,
which, properly speaking, is discretion--an illumined knowledge which the
soul has, as I said, of God and itself. The chief thing it does is this:
having seen, in a reasonable light, what it ought to render and to whom,
it renders this with perfect discretion at once. So it renders glory to
God and praise to His Name; the soul achieves all its works by this light
and to this end. It renders to God His due of honour--not like an
indiscreet robber, who wants to give honour to himself, and, seeking his
own honour and pleasure, does not mind insulting God and harming his
neighbour. When the roots of inclination in the soul are rotted by
indiscretion, all its works, relating to others or to itself, are rotten.
All relating to others, I say: for it imposes burdens indiscreetly, and
lays down the law to other people, seculars or spiritual, or of whatever
rank they may be. If such a person admonishes or advises, he does it
indiscreetly, and wants to load everyone else with the burden which he
carries himself. The discreet soul, that sees its own need and that of
others reasonably, does just the opposite. When it has rendered to God His
due of honour, it gives its own due to itself--that is, hatred of sin and
of its own fleshliness. What is the reason? The love of virtue, which it
loves in itself. It renders its due to the neighbour with the same light
as to itself, and therefore I said, in relation to itself and to others.
So it gives goodwill to its neighbour, as it is bound to do, loving virtue
in him and hating sin. It loves him as a being created by the Highest
Eternal Father. And it gives him loving charity more or less perfectly,
according as it has this in itself. Yes, this is the principal result
which the virtue of discretion achieves in the soul: it has seen clearly
what due it ought to render, and to whom.

These are three chief branches of that glorious discretion which springs
from the tree of charity. From this tree spring infinite fruits, all
mellow and very sweet, which nourish the soul in the life of grace, when
it plucks them with the hand of free will, and eats them with holy eager
desire. Whatever condition a person may be in, he tastes these fruits, if
he has the light of discretion, in diverse ways, according to his state.
He who is placed in the world, and has this light, gathers the fruit of
obedience to the commands of God, and distaste for the world, of which he
divests himself in mind, although he may be clothed with it in fact. If he
has children, he plucks the fruit of the fear of God, and nourishes them
with this holy fear. If he is a nobleman, he plucks the fruit of justice,
discreetly wishing to render to everyone his due--so he punishes the
unjust man rigorously, and rewards the just, tasting the fruit of reason,
and for no flatteries or servile fear deserts this way. If he is a
subject, he gathers the fruit of obedience and reverence toward his lord,
avoiding any cause or means by which he might offend him. Had he not seen
these things by the light, he would not have avoided them. If men are
monks or prelates, they get from the tree the sweet and pleasing fruit of
observing their Rule, enduring one another's faults, embracing shames and
annoyances, placing on their shoulders the yoke of obedience. The prelate
takes desire for the honour of God and the salvation of souls, seeking to
win them by doctrine and exemplary life. In what different ways and by
what different people these fruits are gathered! It would take too long to
tell them the tongue could not express it.

But let us see, dearest daughter (now we will speak in particular, and so
we shall be speaking in general too), what rule that virtue of discretion
imposes on the soul. That rule seems to me to apply both to the soul and
body of people who wish to live spiritually, in deed and thought. To be
sure, it regulates every person in his rank and place: but let us now talk
to ourselves. The first rule it gives to the soul is that we have
mentioned--to render honour to God, goodwill to one's neighbour, and to
oneself, hatred of sin and of one's own fleshliness. It regulates this
charity toward the neighbour; for it is not willing to sacrifice the soul
to him, since, in order to do him good or pleasure, it is not willing to
offend God; but it flees from guilt discreetly, yet holds its body ready
for every pain and torment, even to death, to rescue a soul, and as many
souls as it can, from the hands of the devil. Also, it is ready to give up
all its temporal possessions to help and rescue the body of its neighbour.
Charity does this, when enlightened with discretion; for discretion should
regulate one's charity to one's neighbour. The indiscreet man does just
the contrary, who does not mind offending God, or sacrificing his soul, to
serve or please his neighbour--sometimes by keeping him company in wicked
places, sometimes by bearing false witness, or in many other ways, as
happens every day. This is the rule of indiscretion, which proceeds from
pride and perverse self-love and the blindness of not having known oneself
or God.

And when measure and rule have been found in regard to charity to the
neighbour, discretion regulates also the matter which keeps the soul in
that charity, and makes it grow--that is, in faithful, humble, and
continual prayer; robing the soul in the cloak of desire for virtue, that
it may not be injured by lukewarmness, negligence, or self-love, spiritual
or temporal: therefore it inspires the soul with this desire for virtue,
that its desire may not be placed on anything by which it might be
deceived.

Also, it rules and orders the creature physically, in this way: the soul
which is prepared to wish for God makes its beginning as we have said; but
because it has the vessel of its body, enlightened discretion must impose
a rule on this, as it has done upon the soul, since the body ought to be a
means for the increase of virtue. The rule withdraws it from the
indulgences and luxuries of the world, and the conversation of worldlings;
gives it conversation with the servants of God; takes it from dissolute
places, and keeps it in places that stimulate devotion. It imposes
restraint on all the members of the body, that they be modest and
temperate: let the eye not look where it should not, but hold before
itself earth, and heaven; let the tongue flee idle and vain speech, and be
disciplined to proclaim the word of God for the salvation of the
neighbour, and to confess its sins: let the ear flee agreeable,
flattering, dissolute words, and any words of detraction that might be
said to it; and let it hearken for the word of God, and the need of the
neighbour, willingly listening to his necessity. So let the hand be swift
in touching and working, and the feet in going: to all, discretion gives a
rule. And that the perverse law of the flesh that fights against the
spirit may not throw these tools into disorder, it imposes a rule upon the
body, mortifying it with vigil, fast, and the other exercises which are
all meant to bridle our body.

But note, that all this is done, not indiscreetly, but with enlightened
discretion. How is this shown? In this: that the soul does not place its
chief desire in any act of penance. That it may not fall into such a fault
as to take penance for its chief desire, enlightened discretion takes
pains to robe the soul in the desire for virtue. Penance to be sure must
be used as a tool, in due times and places, as need may be. If the flesh,
being too strong, kicks against the spirit, penance takes the rod of
discipline, and fast, and the cilice of many buds, and mighty vigils; and
places burdens enough on the flesh, that it may be more subdued. But if
the body is weak, fallen into illness, the rule of discretion does not
approve of such a method. Nay, not only should fasting be abandoned, but
flesh be eaten; if once a day is not enough, then four times. If one
cannot stand up, let him stay on his bed; if he cannot kneel, let him sit
or lie down, as he needs. This discretion demands. Therefore it insists
that penance be treated as a means and not as a chief desire.

Dost thou know why it must not be chief? That the soul may not serve God
with a thing that can be taken from it and that is finite: but with holy
desire, which is infinite, through its union with the infinite desire of
God; and with the virtues which neither devil nor fellow-creature nor
weakness can take from us, unless we choose. Herein must we make our
foundation, and not in penance. Nay, in weakness the virtue of patience
may be tested; in vexing conflicts with devils, fortitude and long
perseverance; and in adversities suffered from our fellow-beings,
humility, patience, and charity. So as to all other virtues--God lets them
be tested by many contraries, but never taken from us, unless we choose.
Herein must we make our foundation, and not in penance. The soul cannot
have two foundations: either the one or the other must be overthrown. Let
the thing which is not the chief, be used as a means. If I find my chief
principle in bodily penance, I build the city of my soul upon the sand, so
that each little breeze throws it to the earth, and no building can be
erected on it. But if I build upon the virtues, founded upon the Living
Stone, Christ sweet Jesus, there is no building so great that it will not
stand firmly, nor wind so contrary that it can ever blow it down.

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