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UID:13983-1759190400-1759276799@laycisterciansofgethsemani.org
SUMMARY:Vigils Reading - St Jerome
DESCRIPTION:A LETTER FROM ST JEROME \nTO ST EUSTOCHIUM \n◊◊◊ \nWhen the inner man has begun to waver a little between vices and virtues\, \nsay: Why art thou sad\, O my soul? And why dost thou trouble me? Hope in \nGod\, for I will give praise to Him: the salvation of my countenance\, and my \nGod. I would not have you permit such a thought to arise. Let nothing that is of \nBabylon\, nothing of confusion\, grow up within you. While the enemy is small\, \ndestroy him. Let wickedness be nipped in the bud. \nHow often\, when I was established in the desert and in that vast solitude \nwhich is scorched by the sun’s heat and affords a savage habitation for monks\, \ndid I think myself amid the delights of Rome! I would sit alone because I was \nfilled with bitterness. My limbs were roughly clad in sackcloth – an unlovely \nsight. My neglected skin had taken on the appearance of an Ethiopian’s body. \nDaily I wept\, daily I groaned\, and whenever insistent slumber overcame \nmy resistance\, I bruised my awkward bones upon the bare earth. Of food and \ndrink I say nothing\, since even the sick drink only cold water\, and to get any \ncooked food is a luxury. There was I\, therefore\, who from fear of hell had \ncondemned myself to such a prison\, with only scorpions and wild beasts as \ncompanions. Yet I was often surrounded by dancing girls. My face was pale \nfrom fasting\, and my mind was hot with desire in a body cold as ice. Though my \nflesh\, before its tenant\, was already as good as dead\, the fires of passions kept \nboiling within me. \nAnd so\, destitute of all help\, I used to lie at Jesus’ feet. I bathed them with \nmy tears\, I wiped them with my hair. When my flesh rebelled\, I subdued it by \nweeks of fasting. I do not blush at my hapless state; nay rather\, I lament that I \nam not now what I was then. I remember that I often joined day to night with \nmy lamentation and did not cease beating my breast until peace of mind \nreturned with the Lord’s rebuke. I was afraid even of my little cell – as though it \nwere conscious of my thoughts. Angry at myself and tense\, I used to go out \nalone into the desert. Whenever I saw some deep valley\, some rugged \nmountain\, some precipitous crags\, it was this I made my place of prayer\, my \nplace of punishment for the wretched flesh. And – as my Lord Himself is \nwitness – after many tears\, after fixing my eyes on the heaven\, I sometimes \nseemed to myself to be surrounded by companies of angels and rejoiced\, singing \nhappily: We run after thee to the odor of thy ointments.
URL:https://laycisterciansofgethsemani.org/event/vigils-reading-st-jerome-4/
CATEGORIES:Vigils Readings
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