Many Dwelling Places

[InLight247]

In my Father’s house, there are many dwelling places. (John14:2)

“In my Father’s house, there are many dwelling places.” This has often been used in funeral Mass to comfort the mourning family that they may reunite with their loved ones in heaven. Knowing there are many dwelling places in the Father’s house is indeed a comforting thought.

St. John of the Cross also mentioned this verse in his book The Living Flame of Love. He said love is the strength leads a soul to God. Love helps a soul have union with God. The more a soul loves, the deeper she enters into God. There are many centers in God; one is deeper than the other. Just like Jesus said, “In my Father’s house, there are many dwelling places”; souls enter into different centers depending on the degree of their love.

I like to think the analogy of concentric circles. God is in the center of the circles. Layers of the circle represent many dwelling places in the Father’s house. The bigger area of outer layers provides more dwelling places; they are farther from the center. Whereas the area of inner layers are smaller, but closer to the center.

When St. Therese of Lisieux was four, her eldest sister Pauline also explained the vision of heaven for her. Pauline used two different glasses both filled with water to ask Therese which one was fuller? She explained that though the glasses are in different sizes, when filled with water, they both were full. It’s the same in heaven. Though every soul has different capacity to contain God’s glory, they will all be full per their capacities.

All glasses are full in heaven. Every layer of concentric circles is connected to the center. But those who love much will contain more of God’s glory and be closer to the center. All the twelve disciples sat at the same table and had the last supper with Jesus. Only John reclined on Jesus’ chest, and had the most intimacy.

There are many dwelling places in the Father’s house. Every dwelling place is good. However, it is always attractive to reside with the Beloved in His inner chamber!

 

[InLight247]

It is noteworthy, then, that love is the inclination, strength, and power for the soul in making its way to God, for love unites it with God. The more degrees of love it has, the more deeply in enters into God and centers itself in him. We can say that there are as many centers in God possible to the soul, each one deeper than the other, as there are degrees of love of God possible to it. A stronger love is a more unitive love, and we can understand in this manner the many mansions the Son of God declared were in his Father’s house (Jn. 14:2) – ***The Living Flame of Love, Stanza 1 ***

My initial reflection of this thread was based on the above quote of St. John of the Cross.

Different degree of love brings us to different mansions in the Father’s house. Our eternal capacity is decided by how much we are able to love in this life. Once we are passed to the next, our capacity is set. To me, enlarging our love capacity is always something worth to ponder upon and strive for. Not only my goal is set for heaven instead of Purgatory, I am aiming for enlarging the capacity of my containing glass.

If anyone has dwelled on this, or would like to give comment, please share your thoughts.

 

[DBT]

The passage you gave from Living Flame of Love is one of my favorites! To me, it really gives a sense of interior spirituality . . . “the kingdom of God is within.” As St. John of the Cross teaches, any degree of love is a center . . . but the deepest center is where God and soul reside in deepest union . . . where we “become God by participation” in His very act of redeeming love.

I’ve been reading a bit of Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity lately and she cites this particular passage . . . but still makes it her own. She had an acute sense of the indwelling presence and I find her explanations facinating. Time and time again she describes the search for the deepest center as that of entering into the “abyss” of her soul. My poor words, though, don’t do it justice!

Dave

 

[InLight247]

I’ve been reading a bit of Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity lately and she cites this particular passage . . . but still makes it her own. She had an acute sense of the indwelling presence and I find her explanations facinating. Time and time again she describes the search for the deepest center as that of entering into the “abyss” of her soul. My poor words, though, don’t do it justice!

Dave

Dave, thank you for your response. What you said about “with an acute sense of the indwelling presence” and “search for the deepest center as that of entering into the ‘abyss’ of soul” are very beautiful. You explain Blessed Elizabeth very well.

Talking about the indwelling presence, I think the keener our sense about this, the better our recollection will be. Through the indwelling of the Spirit, God always draws us toward deeper knowledge, love and service. Our role is to be sensitive to these inner drawings and respond faithfully to them. The indwelling Presence resides in the deepest center of our soul, thus when we enter into the abyss of our soul, we are in touch with the sanctifying grace.

 

[DBT]

Talking about the indwelling presence, I think the keener our sense about this, the better our recollection will be. Through the indwelling of the Spirit, God always draws us toward deeper knowledge, love and service. Our role is to be sensitive to these inner drawings and respond faithfully to them. The indwelling Presence resides in the deepest center of our soul, thus when we enter into the abyss of our soul, we are in touch with the sanctifying grace.

Very well said!

Incidently, Bl. Elizabeth of the Trinity was a contemporary of St. Therese of Liseaux . . . roughly the same age, with a great love for the “interiorality” of St. John of the Cross, and living just a few miles apart in France. She even had the same sense of posthumous mission St. Therese did and was most likely greatly inspired by it. Hers, though, was not an “active” mission doing good for souls here on earth . . . it was to aid them in recollection. As she said, she was to remain “concealed, hidden and wholly interior.”

“I think that in Heaven my mission will be to draw souls by helping them to go out of themselves in order to cling to God by a wholly simple and loving movement, and to *keep them in the great silence within *which will allow God to communicate Himself to them and to transform them into Himself.”

No doubt in my mind she found the *deepest center *you shared from “Living Flame of Love” in her few short years here on earth. In that, too, she was much like her Carmelite sister, Therese.

Dave

 

[InLight247]

Originally by DBT
“I think that in Heaven my mission will be to draw souls by helping them to go out of themselves in order to cling to God by a wholly simple and loving movement, and to keep them*** in the great silence within*** which will allow God to communicate Himself to them and to transform them into Himself.”

No doubt in my mind she found the deepest center you shared from “Living Flame of Love” in her few short years here on earth. In that, too, she was much like her Carmelite sister, Therese.

It’s interesting you linked Blessed Elizabeth with St. Therese the little flower. Indeed there are similarities in their words and thoughts. And I agree Elizabeth most likely has been influenced by her Carmelite sister Therese.

Re-reading St. Therese’s The Story of a Soul, the following jumped out:

As I meditated on these Divine words, I saw how imperfect the love I bore my Sisters in religion was. I understood that I did not love them as Our Lord loves them. I know now that true charity consists in bearing all our neighbors’ defects–not being surprised at their weakness, but edified at their smallest virtues.

It jumped out because the Lord has recently shined His light upon me in the same area.

A person often drives me nuts. I even shared my “nuts feeling” with my SD to let them out. But afterwards I started to think about the goodness of this person. I decided to accept her hysterical way as it is. By refraining myself from being bothered, I step onto the right track. I realize if I am not loving as Jesus loves, I will never get close to the deep center, nonetheless the deepest center. To bear our neighbors’ defects and to edify their smallest virtues bring goodness to our own soul.

Like St. Therese said:

Yes, I know when I show charity to others, it is simply Jesus acting in me, and the more closely I am united to Him, the more dearly I love my Sisters.

And this “unite to Him” requires “great silence” to achieve, like you emphasized in your quote with italic font.

Blessed Elizabeth said in her letter:

"I have found heaven on earth, since heaven is God, and God is in my soul. “

Only in great silence in front of the Lord, and allow my heart unreservedly open, I can be in touch with the God in my soul.

 

[InLight247]

Originally by Luke 5:3-11
Getting into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, he asked him to put out a short distance from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. After he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch.” Simon said in reply, “Master, we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing, but at your command I will lower the nets.” When they had done this, they caught a great number of fish and their nets were tearing………….

When they brought their boats to the shore, they left everything and followed him.

During today’s daily Mass, Father mentioned Simon’s boat was Simon’s livelihood - his life. When Simon invited Jesus into his boat – he invited Jesus into his life.

Having read the above passage many times, I always see the part of Simon’s obedience and humility – as a fisherman, an expert of catching fish, Simon cast the net into deep as told, though they have worked hard all night and have caught nothing. Today is the first time I realized the meaning of the boat was symbolized as Peter’s life. That was inspiring.

When one is baptized and become a believer, he enters a relationship with God. Like any other relationship, our relationship with God needs to be cultivated and developed. The disciples left everything and followed Jesus. Even with a no-return determination of detachment from the very beginning, Peter and all the disciples still have to endure many twists and turns before their relationship with God was matured.

This tells me how perseverance in the Lord will prevail. God has all the patience with us. As long as we are consciously following Him, He will help us move forward. He has given each of us a share of his richness – His abundant grace. Therefore, I can be rest assured, by holding his hands, I will be lifted to a higher ground.

 

[DBT]

It’s always a joy when Scripture touches our heart and leads to a new and deeper understanding. And it always intrigues me to hear the reflections of others as they will invevitably “see” a different aspect than what caught my eye.

You so rightly identify ascetical issues like detachment and the practice of key virtues like obedience, humility and perserverence. My eyes and ears this morning happened to be drawn to the phrase . . . “cast your net into the deep”. I will often see in Scripture “code words” like this that point to the mystical dimension of the indwelling presence . . . reflective of so much of what St. John of the Cross shares in the passages you gave from Living Flame of Love on the centers of the soul and deepening transformation in love.

The Psalms are especially good for pointing to the mystical aspects and praying the LOTH keeps one in constant contact with this side of things. Hardly an office will go by without some reference that points to a deep, intimate, unitive, loving relationship of God and soul. Words and phrases like . . . rest, refuge, seek His face, deep calls upon deep, like a deer longing for running streams . . . always seem to stop me in my tracks to reflect and savor.

And, for that matter, the entire Gospel of John seems to speak to me in this same way . . . almost like an extensive, continual teaching to “remain in me.”

Dave

 

[Strategery]

A person often drives me nuts. I even shared my “nuts feeling” with my SD to let them out. But afterwards I started to think about the goodness of this person. I decided to accept her hysterical way as it is. By refraining myself from being bothered, I step onto the right track. I realize if I am not loving as Jesus loves, I will never get close to the deep center, nonetheless the deepest center.
.

Interesting to me that you said this. Last night I was at adoration and a teenage choir was practicing in the church. The boys were really out of control, to the point that it really bothered me. I wanted to go over there, grab them, and lead them over to the tabernacle and ask them if they really “got” that He is present and they’re acting like fools.

That led me to sorrow for Christ about how people completely forget about him. Which led me to … great awe and respect at the amount of love He has for us. What annoys me completely and makes me angry is not a hinderance at all to His great love. The whole situation left me with a little better view of the depths of God’s love.

 

[Strategery]

The Psalms are especially good for pointing to the mystical aspects and praying the LOTH keeps one in constant contact with this side of things. Hardly an office will go by without some reference that points to a deep, intimate, unitive, loving relationship of God and soul. Words and phrases like . . . rest, refuge, seek His face, deep calls upon deep, like a deer longing for running streams . . . always seem to stop me in my tracks to reflect and savor.

And, for that matter, the entire Gospel of John seems to speak to me in this same way . . . almost like an extensive, continual teaching to “remain in me.”

Dave

I’ve been spending a lot of time in the psalms lately. For me, it started with this thought chain: if David is a man after God’s own heart, and David wrote many of the psalms, I should read them to understand what a man who was greatly rewarded by God thinks.

I’ve seen the same as you - David was a contemplative who retreated often to his Lord and focused on an interior relationship with him. Also … just read Psalm 119 last night and it drives home the necessity of obedience in a deepening relationship with Christ.

Also I’ve been thinking about Job and noticing how his story is that of one passing through the Dark Night of the Soul.

Regarding John — I just finished up the Sermon on the Mount in my Lectio Devina plan this week, and decided I would start into John for the very reason you describe.

 

[DBT]

I’ve been spending a lot of time in the psalms lately. For me, it started with this thought chain: if David is a man after God’s own heart, and David wrote many of the psalms, I should read them to understand what a man who was greatly rewarded by God thinks.

I’ve seen the same as you - David was a contemplative who retreated often to his Lord and focused on an interior relationship with him. Also … just read Psalm 119 last night and it drives home the necessity of obedience in a deepening relationship with Christ.

Also I’ve been thinking about Job and noticing how his story is that of one passing through the Dark Night of the Soul.

Regarding John — I just finished up the Sermon on the Mount in my Lectio Devina plan this week, and decided I would start into John for the very reason you describe.

The Psalms are wonderful! There are many ways to read them. The explanation I heard that is most helpful to me is to read them as God talking directly to us and we to Him. That way David’s words become “ours.” Glad to hear John’s Gospel is your plan for lectio . . . the Psalms are wonderful for that too!

And yes, Job is a wonderful example of and inspiration for St. John of the Cross’ treatment of the Dark Night. So too is this passage from Lamentations (don’t know the translation, I just copied off the internet . . . but hopefully it gets the point across). Note the shifting that occurs . . . from lamenting to an expression of deep hope. This is key to understanding the Dark Night . . . otherwise it could simply devolve into some kind of morbid wallowing in self pity. God humbles to exalt . . . souls going through such a night never lose sight of that even in the darkest times of absence and interior desolation. There is typically a sense of peace and acceptance in this night for, despite it all, the soul truly knows God is with him.
Lamentations 3 1--24:

1 I am the man who has seen affliction
under the rod of his wrath;
2 he has driven and brought me
into darkness without any light;
3 surely against me he turns his hand
again and again the whole day long.
4 He has made my flesh and my skin waste away;
he has broken my bones;
5 he has besieged and enveloped me
with bitterness and tribulation;
6 he has made me dwell in darkness
like the dead of long ago.

7 He has walled me about so that I cannot escape;
he has made my chains heavy;
8 though I call and cry for help,
he shuts out my prayer;
9 he has blocked my ways with blocks of stones;
he has made my paths crooked.

10 He is a bear lying in wait for me,
a lion in hiding;
11 he turned aside my steps and tore me to pieces;
he has made me desolate;
12 he bent his bow and set me
as a target for his arrow.

13 He drove into my kidneys
the arrows of his quiver;
14 I have become the laughingstock of all peoples,
the object of their taunts all day long.
15 He has filled me with bitterness;
he has sated me with wormwood.

16 He has made my teeth grind on gravel,
and made me cower in ashes;
17 my soul is bereft of peace;
I have forgotten what happiness is;
18 so I say, “My endurance has perished;
so has my hope from the LORD.”

19 Remember my affliction and my wanderings,
the wormwood and the gall!
20 My soul continually remembers it
and is bowed down within me.
**21 But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:

22 The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
23 they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
24 “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”**

Dave

 

[InLight247]

Originally by DBT
My eyes and ears this morning happened to be drawn to the phrase . . . “cast your net into the deep”. I will often see in Scripture “code words” like this that point to the mystical dimension of the indwelling presence . . . reflective of so much of what St. John of the Cross shares in the passages you gave from Living Flame of Love on the centers of the soul and deepening transformation in love.

The Psalms are especially good for pointing to the mystical aspects and praying the LOTH keeps one in constant contact with this side of things. Hardly an office will go by without some reference that points to a deep, intimate, unitive, loving relationship of God and soul.

Like you said, it is always nice to hear other’s reflection on the Scriptures. Thanks for your insight on “cast your net into the deep”. That wonderfully matches the theme of this thread – St. John’s words: *The more degrees of love a soul has, the more deeply it enters into God and centers itself in him. *

Originally by DBT
The Psalms are wonderful! There are many ways to read them. The explanation I heard that is most helpful to me is to read them as God talking directly to us and we to Him. That way David’s words become “ours.”

That is a wonderful approach to keep in mind.

Originally by DBT
And yes, Job is a wonderful example of and inspiration for St. John of the Cross’ treatment of the Dark Night.

Job’s night could not be darker. The most amazing part is this: “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.” (Job 13:15)

The Lamentations you quoted reflects the same spirit:
“*But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.*”

Such virtue of trust and hope no doubt will bring one into the deeper center with God.

 

[InLight247]

Interesting to me that you said this. Last night I was at adoration and a teenage choir was practicing in the church. The boys were really out of control, to the point that it really bothered me. I wanted to go over there, grab them, and lead them over to the tabernacle and ask them if they really “got” that He is present and they’re acting like fools.

That led me to sorrow for Christ about how people completely forget about him. Which led me to … great awe and respect at the amount of love He has for us. What annoys me completely and makes me angry is not a hinderance at all to His great love. The whole situation left me with a little better view of the depths of God’s love.

I think as long as we keep our hearts reflective, every situation may bring us closer to God; in your case, a better view of God’s love, and mine, a resolution of neglecting people’s fault but edifying their goodness. All things work good for those who love God.

 

[InLight247]

Today is the feast day of St. Gregory the Great. St. Gregory was content to be a monk, but he willingly served the Church in other ways when asked. One of his quotes is very inspiring to me:

“Perhaps it is not after all so difficult for a man to part with his possessions, but it is certainly most difficult for him to part with himself. To renounce what one has is a minor thing; but to renounce what one is, that is asking a lot.” (St. Gregory, Homily 32 on Gospels).

In this coming Sunday’s Gospel we will read:

Luke 14:25-33 “Anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.”

Reading Jesus’ words in Luke and reflecting on the above quote of St. Gregory the Great on Gospel, several things become clearer to me:

• Their thorough imitation of Christ and their complete surrender made them Saints. They all entered the deepest center, staying in the inner chamber with the King.
• Due to their complete union with God, saints are held so dearly to God with indescribable intimacy. That’s why their intercession for us are so powerful.

The following quotes from St. John of the Cross in The Living Flames of Love described this beautiful union :

While light shines on a clean and pure crystal, we find that the more intense the degree of light, the more light the crystal has concentrated within it and the brighter it becomes; it can become so brilliant from the abundance of light received that it seems to be all light. And then the crystal is undistinguishable from the light, since it is illumined according to its full capacity, which is to appear to be light.

What an analogy and what a long way to go. Capacity, as I tried to bring up in my post #2, is related to how far and how deep one can go. It is something I often dwell upon. Your thoughts?

 

[InLight247]

Labor Day’s long weekend, a very relaxed Monday afternoon, after coming home from the daily devotion in front of the tabernacle, I picked up my favorite reading of these days and re-delved into The Living Flame of Love.

St.** John of the Cross**
O living flame of love
that tenderly wounds my soul
in its deepest center! Since
now you are not oppressive,
now consummate! It is be your will:
tear through the veil of this sweet encounter!

It says:

The soul, then, conscious of the abundance of its enrichment, at the time of these glorious encounters feels to be almost at the point of departing for complete and perfect possession of its kingdom, for it knows that it is pure, rich, full of virtues, and prepared for such a kingdom. God permits it in this state to see its beauty, and he entrusts to it the gifts and virtues he has bestowed; for everything is converted into love and praises, and it has no touch of presumption or vanity since it no longer bears the leaven of imperfection that corrupts the mass……………since it desires to be dissolved and to be with Christ, it laments that a life so weak and base impedes another so mighty and sublime, and asks that the veil to be torn, saying: “Tear through the veil of this sweet encounter!”

Last time I read this paragraph, I admired such a pure soul. This time, odd enough, I had to stop and couldn’t continue. I could not bear the thought of “tearing the veil”. I had to immediately put the book down. This “too much” feeling was so strong that I felt it would burst me if I read any longer. Tear the veil and cross to the “beyond”? It is a moment like this I feel St. John of the Cross is “too much”.

Then I realized such intense feeling must be resulted from my limited capacity to imagine the sublime state of such a soul, and from being scared of “tearing the veil”. Truly one can only contain what his capacity is.

 

[DBT]

“Tearing the veil” . . . pretty lofty language, indeed

Brother Lawrence had a similar expression he’d use from time to time that I think expressed the same sentiments: “I no longer believe; I see.” Faith gives way to sight . . . not in the imperfect way that sometimes happens here on earth (i.e. imaginative visions) . . . but a glimpse at what lies beyond. But it’s not a sight of seeing, I think, but of knowing, relationship and participation in God’s love . . . “where nothing is any longer hid from the soul.”

This link to chapters 18-20 of Book 2 of St. John’s “Dark Night” has an interesting explanation of what he calls the ladder of love. Whereas “Living Flame of Love” starts off with a bang with very deep and sublime expressions of unitive love, these chapters from “Dark Night” show the natural progression of things so one might reasonably imagine how St. John came to the understanding he did.

catholictreasury.info/books/dark_night/dn33.php

Dave

PS - Also, I think expressions like this are a longing for earthly death in order to be “fully” united with Christ. I think many Saints had this longing . . . where nothing in this life could ever satisfy.

 

[InLight247]

Originally by DBT

Whereas “Living Flame of Love” starts off with a bang with very deep and sublime expressions of unitive love

Thanks, Dave. Your explanation of Living Flame of Love being a deep and sublime expressions of unitive love is a good reminder. The writings in *Living Flame of Love *is like what was said in the Dark Night of your link – “He is at the end of the ladder and it is in him that the ladder rests.”

I did pick up the sense of “longing to die” while reading it. I think it’s exactly that “longing to die” to be with God made me feel “too much”, for I am far from it. It’s like standing on the lower step of the ladder, looking up at the end in the cloud. On one hand, there was the understanding of such longing, on the other hand, the resist of “tearing the veil” was strong. Such inconsistency and conflict made the stretch unbearable. I even felt physically unbearable. When a small glass was trying to contain much more water than it could, the glass felt to burst. I think that’s where my puzzled intense feeling came from. I don’t know if this makes sense.

 

[DBT]

I did pick up the sense of “longing to die” while reading it. I think it’s exactly that “longing to die” to be with God made me feel “too much”, for I am far from it. It’s like standing on the lower step of the ladder, looking up at the end in the cloud. On one hand, there was the understanding of such longing, on the other hand, the resist of “tearing the veil” was strong. Such inconsistency and conflict made the stretch unbearable. I even felt physically unbearable. When a small glass was trying to contain much more water than it could, the glass felt to burst. I think that’s where my puzzled intense feeling came from. I don’t know if this makes sense.

Yes, what you say makes sense . . . attracted and repelled at the same time. But as these saints describe it’s not a fearful longing at all . . . but one of joyful prospect. Perhaps that goes to your point about capacity.

From my end, I understand the longing but, in the manner of St. Augustine, I say to myself . . . “just not yet.”

Dave

 

[InLight247]

Yes, what you say makes sense . . . attracted and repelled at the same time. But as these saints describe it’s not a fearful longing at all . . . but one of joyful prospect. Perhaps that goes to your point about capacity.

From my end, I understand the longing but, in the manner of St. Augustine, I say to myself . . . “just not yet.”

Dave

“Attracted and repelled at the same time.” Yes, thank you for understanding me.
I thought about Psalm 131:1 “I do not busy myself with great matters, with things too sublime for me.” Indeed the desire of Saints for running to the next life (beyond), their longing for death in order to be with God, is too sublime for me. Though it is a joyful prospect, not a fearful longing, but “just not yet”.

 

[InLight247]

"To you who hear I say, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. Luke 6:27-28

In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus taught us to imitate his way of loving others, to allow God’s grace flow through us and reach those around us – whether friends or foes.

We all know how hard it is to love those who hurt us. Yet that’s our Lord’s command. To be Jesus’ followers, we must pick up our cross to follow him. ”Love our enemy” is in the nature of picking up the cross. When our Lord was scourged, stripped, tortured and carrying the Cross to Calvary, he was showing his love to his enemies. With meekness and humility, Jesus not only picked up the Cross, he embraced the Cross. Not reluctantly but willingly Jesus embraced and carried his Cross.

Embracing** the cross** is a very sublime goal. But no doubt, by doing so the capacity of love is increased and enlarged. Pondering on this subject made me re-realize the long way to freedom. Hopefully with time, practice and God’s grace, love can grow deeper in quality.