But quick–eyed Love drew nearer to me

Mystery-Faith-Solomon-L-1In the Presence of Love

There are souls for whom philosophical concepts are unintelligible, for whom theological words are hollow and meaningless, for whom the most logical arguments are unconvincing. Such souls must be put in the presence of Love.

Changed by Love

Thus will they begin to hear Love, and even to see Love, and be touched by Love, and changed by Love, until all that formerly was difficult and even impossible becomes easy, and sweet, and spontaneous.

The Smallest Act of Trust

Give souls the experience of divine Love in the Most Holy Eucharist and all the rest will follow, provided that these souls begin with even the smallest act of trust in Love.

Converted by the Eucharist

Think of the great converts of the Eucharist.  One single Amen, uttered consciously and with but a spark of faith in the presence of the Most Holy Sacrament, is enough to set in motion the conversion of an entire life, reparation for sin, and a river of graces for the future.

Open the Door to Love’s Dwelling

When a soul weighed down by sin, sunk in vice, intoxicated by sensual pleasures, comes to a priest, it is useless for him to say to that soul, “You must do this”, or “You must not do that”, or even, “This is why you must do this”, or “This is why you must not do that”. One must simply open the door to Love’s dwelling and invite that soul to enter in and discover what Love us, Who Love is, and the power of Love to change that which by human efforts cannot be changed.

LOVE bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack’d anything.

‘A guest,’ I answer’d, ‘worthy to be here:’
Love said, ‘You shall be he.’
‘I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
I cannot look on Thee.’
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
‘Who made the eyes but I?’

‘Truth, Lord; but I have marr’d them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.’
‘And know you not,’ says Love, ‘Who bore the blame?’
‘My dear, then I will serve.’
‘You must sit down,’ says Love, ‘and taste my meat.’
So I did sit and eat.
(George Herbert 1593–1632)

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