From the dialogue On Divine Providence by Saint Catherine of Siena, virgin and doctor
I tasted and I saw
Eternal God, eternal Trinity, you have made the blood of Christ so precious through his sharing in your divine nature. You are a mystery as deep as the sea; the more I search, the more I find, and the more I find the more I search for you. But I can never be satisfied; what
I receive will ever leave me desiring more. When you fill my soul I have an even greater hunger, and I grow more famished for your light. I desire above all to see you, the true light, as you really are.Second reading
From the dialogue On Divine Providence by Saint Catherine of Siena, virgin and
doctor
I
tasted and I saw
Eternal God, eternal Trinity, you have made the
blood of Christ so precious through his sharing in your divine nature. You are
a mystery as deep as the sea; the more I search, the more I find, and the more
I find the more I search for you. But I can never be satisfied; what
I receive will ever leave me desiring more. When you fill my soul I have an
even greater hunger, and I grow more famished for your light. I desire above
all to see you, the true light, as you really are.I have tasted and seen the depth of your mystery
and the beauty of your creation with the light of my understanding. I have
clothed myself with your likeness and have seen what I shall be. Eternal
Father, you have given me a share in your power and the wisdom that Christ
claims as his own, and your Holy Spirit has given me the desire to love you.
You are my Creator, eternal Trinity, and I am your creature. You have made of
me a new creation in the blood of your Son, and I know that you are moved with
love at the beauty of your creation, for you have enlightened me.
Eternal Trinity, Godhead, mystery deep as the sea,
you could give me no greater gift than the gift of yourself. For you are a fire
ever burning and never consumed, which itself consumes all the selfish love
that fills my being. Yes, you are a fire that takes away the coldness,
illuminates the mind with its light and causes me to know your truth. By this
light, reflected as it were in a mirror, I recognize that you are the highest
good, one we can neither comprehend nor fathom. And I know that you are beauty
and wisdom itself. The food of angels, you gave yourself to man in the fire of
your love.
You are the garment which covers our nakedness, and
in our hunger you are a satisfying food, for you are sweetness and in you there
is no taste of bitterness, O triune God!
I have tasted and seen the depth of your mystery and the beauty of your creation with the light of my understanding. I have clothed myself with your likeness and have seen what I shall be. Eternal Father, you have given me a share in your power and the wisdom that Christ claims as his own, and your Holy Spirit has given me the desire to love you. You are my Creator, eternal Trinity, and I am your creature. You have made of me a new creation in the blood of your Son, and I know that you are moved with love at the beauty of your creation, for you have enlightened me.
Eternal Trinity, Godhead, mystery deep as the sea, you could give me no greater gift than the gift of yourself. For you are a fire ever burning and never consumed, which itself consumes all the selfish love that fills my being. Yes, you are a fire that takes away the coldness, illuminates the mind with its light and causes me to know your truth. By this light, reflected as it were in a mirror, I recognize that you are the highest good, one we can neither comprehend nor fathom. And I know that you are beauty and wisdom itself. The food of angels, you gave yourself to man in the fire of your love.
You are the garment which covers our nakedness, and in our hunger you are a satisfying food, for you are sweetness and in you there is no taste of bitterness, O triune God!
Catherine’s spirituality is Christ-centred. Although she had great regard for Mary and the saints, particularly St Paul, her gaze is always on Christ. Her teaching stays closer to the Gospel than the works of some of the later mystics. Knowingly or unknowingly, she embraces many of the themes of Aquinas: the fundamental goodness of creation, an emphasis on the human person made in imago Dei, the superiority of the intellect over the will, knowledge of the truth as the beginning of beatitude, grace as a participation in divine life, emphasis on the humanity of Christ who shows us how to be fully human, and emphasis on the virtues and the gifts of the Holy Spirit.
Although Catherine was a mystic, there was nothing aloof or detached about her. Throughout her writings there is an appreciation that the quality of our love of God is mirrored in the quality of our love of neighbour. If you want to know how much you really love God, then look at how much you really love those most in need: the most vulnerable, the outcast, the stranger. In one of the most remarkable letters of medieval Christian literature, Catherine describes to Raymond of Capua how she accompanied a condemned man to the scaffold and moments later received his severed head in her hands.
Although she had many mystical experiences, each of them represented a broadening and deepening of her outreach to others rather than being private or individualistic moments. As she comes to love Jesus more, her love expands and is transformed into love of his Body, the Church. She firmly believed that the good of the Church is the good of humanity and that anyone who rebelled against the Church was his or her own enemy.
Catherine was bold and fearless. She became preoccupied with church reform, by which she meant its spiritual and moral reform, beginning with the pope, cardinals and bishops, then the priests and Religious. Always a direct hitter, her criticism of homosexual activity among the clergy (The Dialogue, Ch. 124) was seen as so indelicate that it was often excised from earlier editions of the work.
Another concern was the return of the papacy to Rome from Avignon, where popes had resided for almost 70 years. She was utterly devoted to the Pope, no matter who he was, often calling him the “sweet Christ on earth”. She travelled all the way from Siena to Avignon to urge Gregory XI to return to Rome, which he did (and later regretted). In her letters to various popes, she speaks very directly, telling one that if he isn’t “man enough” to do the job it would be better if he resigned.
Catherine promoted the santo passaggio, or crusade, to reclaim the Holy Sepulchre and the Holy Land from Muslim control. However uncomfortable some of us might feel today about calls for a crusade, she was convinced that good would come from it; it would bring the warring Christian nations in Europe together for a purpose. And she had another, more intriguing, reason. She longed for the conversion of Muslims because she admired their prayerfulness and zeal, and thought they would be vital allies in the reform of the Church that she worked and prayed for.
Catherine’s spirituality is Christ-centred. Although she had great regard for Mary and the saints, particularly St Paul, her gaze is always on Christ. Her teaching stays closer to the Gospel than the works of some of the later mystics. Knowingly or unknowingly, she embraces many of the themes of Aquinas: the fundamental goodness of creation, an emphasis on the human person made in imago Dei, the superiority of the intellect over the will, knowledge of the truth as the beginning of beatitude, grace as a participation in divine life, emphasis on the humanity of Christ who shows us how to be fully human, and emphasis on the virtues and the gifts of the Holy Spirit.
Although Catherine was a mystic, there was nothing aloof or detached about her. Throughout her writings there is an appreciation that the quality of our love of God is mirrored in the quality of our love of neighbour. If you want to know how much you really love God, then look at how much you really love those most in need: the most vulnerable, the outcast, the stranger. In one of the most remarkable letters of medieval Christian literature, Catherine describes to Raymond of Capua how she accompanied a condemned man to the scaffold and moments later received his severed head in her hands.
Although she had many mystical experiences, each of them represented a broadening and deepening of her outreach to others rather than being private or individualistic moments. As she comes to love Jesus more, her love expands and is transformed into love of his Body, the Church. She firmly believed that the good of the Church is the good of humanity and that anyone who rebelled against the Church was his or her own enemy.
Catherine was bold and fearless. She became preoccupied with church reform, by which she meant its spiritual and moral reform, beginning with the pope, cardinals and bishops, then the priests and Religious. Always a direct hitter, her criticism of homosexual activity among the clergy (The Dialogue, Ch. 124) was seen as so indelicate that it was often excised from earlier editions of the work.
Another concern was the return of the papacy to Rome from Avignon, where popes had resided for almost 70 years. She was utterly devoted to the Pope, no matter who he was, often calling him the “sweet Christ on earth”. She travelled all the way from Siena to Avignon to urge Gregory XI to return to Rome, which he did (and later regretted). In her letters to various popes, she speaks very directly, telling one that if he isn’t “man enough” to do the job it would be better if he resigned.
Catherine promoted the santo passaggio, or crusade, to reclaim the Holy Sepulchre and the Holy Land from Muslim control. However uncomfortable some of us might feel today about calls for a crusade, she was convinced that good would come from it; it would bring the warring Christian nations in Europe together for a purpose. And she had another, more intriguing, reason. She longed for the conversion of Muslims because she admired their prayerfulness and zeal, and thought they would be vital allies in the reform of the Church that she worked and prayed for.
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