Chapter VII: Has Contemplation its Joys?

In Wisdom viii. 16 we read: _Her conversation hath no bitterness, nor Her company any tediousness, but joy and gladness._ And S. Gregory says[384]: "The contemplative life means a truly lovable sweetness."

There are two sources of pleasure in contemplation; for, firstly, there is the very act of contemplating, and everyone finds a certain pleasure in the performance of acts which are appropriate to his nature or to his habits. And the contemplation of truth is natural to man as a rational animal; hence it is that "all men naturally desire to know," and consequently find a pleasure in the knowledge of truth. And this pleasure is enhanced according as a man has habits of wisdom and knowledge which enable him to indulge in contemplation without difficulty.

Secondly, contemplation is pleasurable owing to the object which we contemplate, as when a man looks at something which he loves. And this holds good of even bodily vision, for not only is the mere exercise of the visual faculties pleasurable, but the seeing people whom we love is pleasurable.

Since, then, the contemplative life especially consists in the contemplation of God, to which contemplation we are moved by charity, it follows that the contemplative life is not merely pleasurable by reason of the simple act of contemplating, but also by reason of Divine Love Itself. And in both these respects the delights of contemplation exceed all other human delights. For on the one hand spiritual delights are superior to carnal delights; and on the other hand, the love of Divine charity wherewith we love God exceeds all other love; whence it is said in the Psalm: _Taste and see that the Lord is sweet._[385]

Some maintain, however, that contemplation is not pleasurable, thus:

1. Pleasure belongs to the appetitive powers, whereas contemplation is mainly in the intellect.

But while the contemplative life mainly consists in the
intellect, it derives its principle from the affective powers,
since a man is moved to contemplation by love of God. And since
the end corresponds to the principle, it follows that the goal
and term of the contemplative life is in the affective powers,
in the sense, namely, that a man finds a pleasure in the sight
of a thing which he loves, and this very pleasure stirs up in
him a yet greater love. Hence S. Gregory says[386]: "When a man
sees one whom he loves his love is yet more enkindled." And in
this lies the full perfection of the contemplative life: that
the Divine Truth should not only be seen but loved.

2. Again, strife and contention hinder delight. But in contemplation there is strife and contention, for S. Gregory says[387]: "The soul, when it strives after the contemplation of God, finds itself engaged in a species of combat; at one time it seems to prevail, for by understanding and by feeling it tastes somewhat of the Infinite Light; at other times it is overwhelmed, for when it has tasted it faints."

It is true indeed that contest and strife arising from the
opposition presented by external things prevent us from finding
pleasure in those same things. For no man finds a pleasure in
the things against which he fights. But he does find a pleasure,
other things being equal, in the actual attainment of a thing
for which he has striven; thus S. Augustine says[388]: "The
greater the danger in the battle, the greater the joy in the
triumph." And in contemplation the strife and the combat do not
arise from any opposition on the part of the truth which we
contemplate, but from our deficient understanding and from the
corruptible nature of our bodies which ever draw us down to
things beneath us: _The corruptible body is a load upon the
soul, and the earthly habitation presseth down the mind that
museth upon many things._[389] Hence it is that when a man
attains to the contemplation of truth he loves it still more
ardently; but at the same time he more than ever hates his own
defects and the sluggishness of his corruptible body, so that
with the Apostle he cries out: _Unhappy man that I am! Who shall
deliver me from the body of this death?_[390] Hence, too, S.
Gregory says: "When God is known by our desires and our
understanding, He causes all pleasures of the flesh to wither up
within us."[391]

3. But again, delight follows upon a perfect work.[392] But contemplation on this earth is imperfect, according to the words of the Apostle: _We see now through a glass in a dark manner._[393] Hence it would seem that the contemplative life does not afford delight.

It is indeed true that the contemplation of God during this life
is imperfect compared with our contemplation of Him in our
eternal home; and in the same way it is true that the delights
of contemplation here on earth are imperfect compared with the
delights of contemplation in that home, of which latter joys the
Psalmist says: _Thou shalt make them drink of the torrent of Thy
pleasure._[394] Yet, none the less, the contemplation of Divine
things here on earth is, although imperfect, far more perfect
than any other subject of contemplation howsoever perfect it may
be, and this by reason of the excellence of what we contemplate.
Whence the Philosopher says[395]: "It may indeed be the case
that with regard to such noble existences and Divine substances
we have to be content with insignificant theories, yet even
though we but barely touch upon them, none the less so ennobling
is such knowledge that it affords us greater delight than any
other which is accessible to us." Hence, too, S. Gregory says:
"The contemplative life has its most desirable sweetness which
uplifts the soul above itself, opens the way to heavenly things,
and makes spiritual things plain to the eyes of the soul."

4. Lastly, bodily injuries are a hindrance to delight. But contemplation is productive of bodily injuries, for we read in Genesis[396] that Jacob, after saying _I have seen God face to face, ... halted on his foot ... because He touched the sinew of his thigh and it shrank_. Whence it would seem that the contemplative life is not pleasurable.

But after that contemplation Jacob halted on one foot because,
as S. Gregory says, "it must needs be that as the love of this
world grows weaker, so a man grows stronger in his love of God,"
and consequently, "when once we have known the sweetness of God,
one of our feet remains sound while the other halts; for a man
who halts with one foot leans only on the one that is
sound."[397]

"Tu esto nostrum gaudium
Qui es futurus Praemium.
Sit nostra in Te gloria
Per cuncta semper saecula!"

* * * * *

_S. Gregory:_ Between the delights of the body and those of the heart there is ever this difference that the delights of the body are wont, when we have them not, to beget a keen yearning for them; but when we have them and eat our fill, they straightway beget disgust for them, for we are sated therewith. Spiritual joys, on the contrary, when we have them not are a weariness, but when we have them we desire them still more, and the more we feed upon them the more we hunger after them. In the case of the former, the yearning for them was a pleasure, trial of them brought disgust. In the case of the latter, in desire we held them cheap, trial of them proved a source of pleasure. For spiritual joys increase the soul's desire of them even while they sate us, for the more their savour is perceived, the more we know what it is we ought eagerly to love. Whence it comes to pass that when we have them not we cannot love them, for their savour is unknown to us. For how can a man love what he is ignorant of? Wherefore the Psalmist admonishes us, saying: _O taste and see that the Lord is sweet!_[398] As though he would say to us in plain terms: You know not His sweetness if ye have never tasted it; touch, then, the Food of Life with the palate of your soul that so, making proof of Its sweetness, ye may be able to love It.

These joys man lost when he sinned in Paradise; he went out when he closed his mouth to the Food of Eternal Sweetness. Whence we too, who are born amidst the toils of this pilgrimage, come without relish to this Food; we know not what we ought to desire, and the sickness of our disgust grows the more the further our souls keep away from feeding upon that Sweetness; and less and less does our soul desire those interior joys the longer it has grown accustomed to do without them. We sicken, then, by reason of our very disgust, and we are wearied by the long-drawn sickness of our hunger (_Hom._ XXXVI., _On the Gospels_).