Advanced Study Group of Spiritism

EDITORIAL

CODIFICATION STUDY

Dear God, when will the day arrive when I will be allowed to leave this valley of bitterness?  I fear remaining upon the earth because the illusion of social experiences, conceal the perdition of criminals, and I may fail in my duties.

When an unknown being prostates himself before me and tells me his confession, I feel shivers within my soul, and I exclaim, “One more secret! Another new responsibility, on top of those that already burden me! Perchance, am I perfect? Am I more enlightened than others, for them to obligate me to serve as a guide to those that are blind of understanding?  Why does there have to be a distinction? Yes, I have felt like them. Yes, I have had passions more or less compromised. Yes, I have seen myself flee from the temptations of the world so that my heart would stop beating with emotion. Why this insistence to have me, this fragile piece of clay, be as strong as a granite rock?

Towns, where ignorant people live, relinquishing their will to various wretched sinners! I do not know who is more worthy of compassion, them who are fooled by thinking themselves great, or, we that see ourselves small!

Dear God, why have I been born into this priestly order? Why have You obligated me to be a guide for poor sheep, my parishioners, if I cannot even guide myself? Sir, you must have other places in space, because here on this planet a soul who can think becomes asphyxiated, seeing so much misery and hypocrisy! I desire to follow the correct road but, along the pathway I see so many pitfalls!

Priests! A priest should be wise, prudent, observant, proper in his actions, compassionate with his justice, severe and merciful, and judge, all at the same time. But what are we, really? Fallible men, weak and small. My priestly companions have abandoned me because I will not proclaim that I am like them, faultless. They say that I am defrauding the interests of the Church. But by chance, does the Church have need of the good people of this world? Isn’t  there a need for the Church of God to receive the miserable offerings from the sons of sin?  In the Temple of Eternity there is no need for precious metals that will eventually corrode, because the incense from the many good deeds, from the greatest of souls, will immensely perfume the Basilica of Creation.

Dear God, inspire me! If I am going down the wrong path, have pity on me because my only desire is to adore You on this earth, by loving and protecting my fellow man. And, I want to continue loving You in other worlds, where the souls, because of their virtues, are much closer to You.

I am stunned by the general opinion that has been against me. There are only two souls that bless me on this occasion. Forgive me Sir, if I am to blame. But, what's there to doubt, if You are with me! You do not want temples of stone, because You have Your temple in the conscience of man! Due to me, they have not built a grand abbey where women would be praying by rote.  And some of them have accused me of injustice because in Your name, they would sacrifice those young girls in that most beautiful of time, their youth!

Convents! You are but anterooms for tombs!  Within your cloisters one lives without life!  God created the earth for all His children! I remember my infancy; I can see in my mind the silent monks, who were like energized cadavers, unburied mummies, and I feel coldness in my soul!  In a convent, if one lives by its laws as prescribed for monastic life, then one lives against the natural law of life. If one breaks those laws, why then fool the world by faulting a contract and breaking it?  Man should never promise more than what he can rationally fulfill.

My head is burning, these ideas violently boiling in my mind seem to want to break open the narrow mold of my skull. I have need to see my thoughts on paper and you, my dear and faithful manuscript, will be my confidante.  I will tell you why I suffer and I will relate to you how, that while in the retreat of my parish, I was persecuted by the struggles of life.

It was about twenty years later when they came looking for me to hear the confession of a young nobleman, the opulent Baron of ...., who was near death.  When I entered the room of the dying man I noticed a richly dressed lady kneeling at the foot of his bed. Upon seeing me, the sick one said, with an imperial tone, “Leave us, Madam.”

When we were left alone, he unburdened his conscience to me, saying finally, “I cannot swear to it, but, I am almost sure that I am dying because I have been poisoned, and believe that my wife is the perpetrator of this crime. I leave a daughter who I am not sure is mine, but what's done is done. I do not want any scandal after my death, because in any case God will avenge me. I do not want to disinherit a poor creature who possibly might be united to me. One way or another, she is innocent in all this. May God have mercy on the victim and the assassins!”

Upon saying this, he expired in my arms. That poor creature, who died doubting, and  without daring to condemn anyone.

His youthful widow demonstrated extreme grief at his demise and spent much on a luxurious funeral and several masses.

Some time afterwards, she remarried, but a mass was held yearly in the memory of her first husband.

She came frequently to hear the mass that I celebrated, when they say ‘Glorified is the Lord’, and afterwards she remained praying very devotedly.  Particularly in the summer, she did not let a day pass without attending mass, as she lived close by, in a magnificent villa.  Her eldest daughter received from my hands the bread of life, her first communion. And every time that I saw that girl, I remembered the confession of her father.

I felt sorry for that innocent one, named Rachel, because in her youthful confessions, she complained that her mother did not show her any affection. Rachel, offended, felt she could then not love her mother.

I, who had always been opposed to hearing anyone’s confessions, wanted to hear the story of Rachel’s mother, of the baroness G........ In my heart I felt a presentiment that there was something terrible about that woman.

To the world she was a model of virtue, and little by little she became so very devoted, that she passed many, many hours in the church of my village. Rachel grew up, and that poor girl lived completely alone. Unhappily, she still complained that her mother did not love her. At times when quarreling, her mother told her she hated her. Her siblings following the mother’s example and also treated her badly. Only the husband of her mother treated her well, but he was a weak person, dominated completely by his wife. The result was that Rachel was the victim of all of them.

But always, the sun must eventually shine, Rachel came one day and told me that she loved someone and he loved her. He was a young sculptor who had asked for her hand in marriage. She feared her mother would find out, knowing she was destined to be a nun, a bride of God! In addition, there were rumors that her mother was going to renovate an old convent. But she preferred death, rather than enter that place. She asked for my assistance, so that she would not be sacrificed, saying she would give up the dowry left to her by her father, and give it to her mother, as long as she would let her be united with her true love.

It is the obligation of the strong to protect the weak, so I promised God that I would save her from the trap that they were preparing for her. Her suspicions were not unfounded, soon all heard the voice of the devoted Baroness saying she would renovate an old abbey, and one of the first nuns to join that religious community would be her first born!

Upon hearing the news, I wrote to the Baroness and told her that I would like to meet with her in the rectory. She came at once to see what I wanted. For the first time, I looked at her as one would look at a woman, doing this so that I could look into her eyes, to try and read what was in her heart. I did not believe that her extreme piety was the result of religious fervor, and unfortunately, I was right.

When she arrived at the church, I asked her to my study and invited her to sit down. Seating myself in front of her, I said, “I've always tried to escape the hearing of confessions from anyone, but, the force of these circumstances obligate me to ask you, in the name of our religion, and in He Who was crucified, that you confess yourself to me.”

“I do not come prepared for such an act,” she answered, with certain confusion, “because I have not made an examination of my conscience.”

“That's not needed, Madam. There are pure and simple formulas for a sinner to say what they feel, they need only their good will. Everyone has enough of a memory to remember what they have done, regarding any transgressions committed during their life.”

The baroness paled, held her breath and did not answer me.

I continued, “I know that you plan to renovate the convent of Saint Isabel.”

“That is true,” she said, “I want the young to have new lodgings so they can flee from the temptations of this world.”

“And they tell me that your daughter Rachel will be one of the novices of the new community,” I said.

“Yes, because no where else will she be better off,” she stated.

“Have you consulted with her, regarding her desires?” I asked.

“Educated children have an obligation to do what their parents desire for them,” she responded.

“Provided that it does not go against their particular inclinations, and that they can adapt by their constitution and temperament, to the type of life which would be imposed on them. As for Rachel, she is a frail and unhealthy child. If you lock her up in a convent, she will swiftly give up her soul to the Creator!”

“Is this what you believe?  I do not think that she is so delicate and I believe that she needs to be subjected to life in a convent,” she said.

“Well, my belief is that she is a sensitive and delicate child and because of this, I wanted to talk to you, because it is my sacred obligation to look out for her. You are the mother of her body, but I am the guide of her soul. I put onto her lips the bread of spiritual life and have talked to her about God. I am the confidante of her innermost angelical secrets and I know that the soul of that girl is not suited for a convent.”

“But I, it can be said,”stated the Baroness, with a contrary tone of voice, “that since she was born, I promised that she would not belong to the world, and a promise made should be kept.”

“But that promise is not valid Madam, you promised God a being that does not belong to you, and, you did not know what tomorrow would bring for her.  Besides, God does not want his
children sacrificed, God wants only their happiness.”

“How much happier can they be, than to serve and love Him?” she asked.

“Can she not serve and love Him in all the places of this earth, without enslaving that poor young child, who needs like the flowers, the sun and air to live?” I asked.

“You do not act like a priest,” she replied with some anger.

“Why don’t I act like a priest? Because I do not wish to exploit your devotion and I oppose your renovating that abbey into a convent, and making Rachel a part of that community?  Know this full well, I know her soul was not born to be in the emotionally desolate environment of a convent. She is a sweet and loving soul and she is a being that God has destined to be a model among mothers with families.”

“But I consecrate her to God, and only God will she serve!” asserted the Baroness.

At that moment, I do not know what happened to me.  I felt myself grow and was conscious of being over taken by a special spiritual power. During those moments, I felt like I was a messenger from God. I do not know what angel inspired me, but a strange force, an unknown power transformed my being. In those brief instants, I was no longer the patient and suffering pastor who always laughed at seeing the escapades of the village children. I felt an unusual violence within my brows pulsating, it seemed as if a hand of fire rested itself upon my brow and in my ears I heard thousands of confused and incoherent words. I extended my right hand and  got up, possessed by feelings of terror and an unexplainable fright. I seemed to see the ghosts of nuns fleeing in disorder before me. I got close to the Baroness and placed my hand on her shoulder, and with a dry voice that sounded like the echo from a tomb, I told her, “Listen to a minister of God, and woe unto to you if you attempt to lie!”

She looked at me and I do not know what she read in my eyes, but it made hers drop. Then in a shaken voice, she said, “What do you want from me? You frighten me....” And that poor sinner began to tremble.

“Do not be afraid,” I told her,“I only want what's good for you, but better said, I do not know who wants this for you, because someone is murmuring in my ears, that which I am going to tell you...Your devotion, your mysticism, and your religious fervor has a basis. Do you know what it is?”

“What?” she asked with a low voice.

“Remorse!” I said.

“What is it that you say?” she asked stammering.

And with a profound voice I said. “I will again repeat it. The cause of your religious fanaticism is due to, remorse.... It's been twenty years that I received the last confession of your dying husband. Listen to me well, Madam. Do not lose one word of what I am about to say, he confessed to me the name of his assassin. Do you understand me? He knew it all, down to the last detail!”

She looked at me and read in my eyes her name. She then fainted, my habit touched her face as she fell. I told her, with a strong tone in my voice (at that moment prophetic) “Awaken!” And, that poor woman opened her eyes with a fright, wanting to prostrate herself before my feet.

But I stopped her, saying, “Listen. I know your story and have followed step by step the thorny tracks of your life. You were later married with the accomplice of your crime. Rachel, the fruit of your first sin, has constantly reminded you, in part, of your misconduct. Your other children born legitimately in your present marriage have not caused you remorse. But, it's that poor girl who carries a different last name, who torments you without a doubt. Possibly, you see the spirit of your dead husband, who pursues you everywhere. Apparently, you think that by celebrating mass in his name you will placate him, and now you want to rebuild a convent with Rachel’s dowry which you would confiscate, and imprison her far from you, so that you will not constantly see the fruit of that first sin. And do you believe that God will pardon you with these false acts of devotion? No; you may fool the men of the earth with an illusion of saintliness, but God will not go for these religious comedies. Do not commit a new sacrilege, do not sacrifice Rachel. She loves and is loved, let her be the wife of a man. God does not need a wife, He has all of Creation!”

“Don’t deny it, it is useless, because I perceive your past life in your eyes. One only has to look at you to feel a profound compassion and although you may appear to be happy, one can see  a premature spoiling of your looks, making you unattractive. Each time I've seen you kneeling in the church I have pitied you, because for one moment of error you have lead the life of a martyr.  Daily, you desired to become more devoted, no doubt because you saw yourself as ever more  guilty. Do what God orders; consent to Rachel’s marriage and allow her substantial fortune to be used to construct a hospital to assist hundreds of poor families. She will gladly give it up and,  in that way, you will be doing two good deeds: investing in good works what is not yours and not  sacrificing an innocent person, her only offense that she reminds you of your crimes.”

She looked at me not knowing what to say. She got up and then sat down, and started to cry, trying to drown out her anguish. I told her,“Cry poor woman, cry, because tears are like prayers for those who have forgotten the Commandments!”

She then started to cry freely. After letting her cry for a long while, I said, “Swear to me that you will do what I have asked of you!”

“Swear to me that you will pray for me,”she responded looking ashamed.

“Madam, your good deeds will be the best prayers. But speak, have no fear, you have been silent for twenty years and your silence has been your tormentor. Is it not true that you suffer? Is it not true that your prayers do not calm your heart?”

“Father, all that you have said is true about me. My deceased husband, I feel, still lives with me, and Rachel is killing me by just existing. When she was born, she reminded me of what I wanted to forget. When he used to caress her when she was a baby, and then doubting, suddenly leave her side, you do not know how much I suffered. Then when he looked at her with such tenderness, I would suffer that much more. It's true that the fallen woman only stands to fall again, and I fell... into an abyss of crime. Later, when the blessings of a priest united me with my new husband, I thought that I would find rest, but I've waited in vain. I'll be frank with you, I do not believe in anything because religion has not consoled me, and I feel lost in chaos and doubt.”

“And you have passed yourself off as being the most devoted woman of the district,” I said. “One cannot judge by appearance alone!  I repeat, do not dismiss your evil acts with the sacrifice of an innocent being.”

“Think of it, Father, Rachel is a daughter of a sinner.”

“If that is true, then all of your other children are also, Madam! Do you think that your marriage is valid before God? You may have received the perfunctory ceremonial blessings of a man who is a priest upon your remarriage but, sacrilegious unions such as this one are never blessed by God.”

She then said,“I have read in the sacred books that the faults of the parents fall on the children, even into the fourth and fifth generation!”

“Common sense will tell you that an innocent person is free of the inheritance of a sinner. Let each of your children write their own future history, do not add to your faults by sacrificing Rachel.”

She promised to fulfill my request, and she did, with the condition that Rachel would give over her fortune to the poor, in case she did not want to become a nun. Rachel, advised by me, contentedly acceded to this. Smiling with happiness, she presented the love of her life to me, and said sweetly, “Bless us both, Father!”

I blessed them both with all of my faith and with all of my love. I pulled both of them close to my heart and held that youthful pair in my arms, as I thought that but for a miracle, I was able to save Rachel from certain misfortune.

The Baroness distributed the dowry of her daughter by rebuilding a small hospital which   provided assistance to over one hundred families, this made her appear saintly in the eyes of the world. Everyone said she was a saint, and she passed long hours in the church more than in her  own home.

And since gossip always spreads, they say that it was said, that it was I who had dissuaded her to give up on the plans to renovate the abbey, and that I championed the union of Rachel to the love of her heart, and that I had taken away from the church a house of salvation! If my companions hated me yesterday, now.......! If they could have done so with impunity, they would have sent me off on a trip to Eternity. There were many recriminations poured on me, they said I was a bad priest. They said I worry more about the things of this earth than heavenly things. They said I was a neglectful priest, misleading the parishioners in my care.

And me, God, there are moments that I doubt myself, but later on, I reflect and  I say to myself: “What would have been better, rebuild the convent, and in it put that poor girl to die? To snatch her happiness violently away and entomb her in a convent where she would have died cursing the religion which made her a martyr? What was better, destroy a young girl’s faith or, to  unite her with the man who adores her, so they can create a happy family?

There are more than enough houses for seclusion! Quite numerous are the victims of religious tyranny! I am happy if I have been able to snatch one martyr from that place of sacrifice!

I do not care that they point their fingers at me and say that my advice keeps the servants of God from the good path. If God is all Truth, then we are not obligated to offer Him false adoration.

Consecrate the penance of those souls who have been lacerated with suffering and verily need to go into seclusion to think of God. But for a young woman, one that loves and is loved, she forms the sacred altar of a family, and teaches her loving children to bless God.

Dear God, they say that I have taken away a house from Your church, but I think that I have added to Your Property because Your Grace has entered into the poor homes of the unhappy souls who have received substantial alms in Your Name. In the hospital that was built, the sick, weary travelers, and poor children overcome by anguish, upon arriving to this parish, can have compassionate hospitality in the sanctuary of charity for the abandoned. Is this not truly Your House? Your true house is where the sick and hungry can be nourished and cared for, where the destitute find shelter, where the afflicted find consolation, and where the misguided receive useful advice.

Wherever good is done for its own sake, there is no need to raise houses of prayer performed by rote. Prayer from the soul can be accomplished anywhere, man simply needs to raise his thoughts to God.