Burning Bridal Blaze

My dearest Lord, Bridegroom Jesus, I’m certain that St. Mary of Egypt and St. Photini,¹ and others of your bridal saints struggled with the same issues of the soul as I do. I mean not the impurities of the flesh, but the impurities of the soul within (strife, contentions, etc.).

Dearest Lord, I believe that such bridal souls whom You create for such immensity of bridal love experience the deep sting of strife because of the immensity of the chasm within their souls which you created to be filled with immensity of You. This is what originally drives such souls to keep seeking and seeking and seeking more and further, their thirst never satiated and no one around them understands. . . Such a being cries out to the heavens, “Sir, I perceive that You are a prophet. Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, and you Jews say that in Jerusalem is the place where one ought to worship,”² or “With great effort I came almost to the doors of the church and cried, ‘Allow me to enter to behold the Wood upon which the Lord was crucified in the flesh.’”³ That is to say, “My soul has sought far and wide, both on this mountain and in every crevice and corner, but where can I find the worship that my soul groans for?! Are You the One my soul has been seeking?! Are You the One I thirst for?!” For You alone know, O Divine One, the infinite chasm of thirst that exists within such a soul, as You created it to be filled with the infinite God. Such a soul is the most responsive to Your divine promptings—for it would go to the ends of the earth for You, descend to Hades with You, and die with You. Such a soul is inseparable from You.

My Blessed Master, You see that such souls which are cloaked in the image of absolute perversion have a very strong little flame of the most intense type of fire burning in their very core. You are so aware of this beautiful tiny potent blaze, which bears an immensity of ethereal power within its tiny flames, while no one else around could ever possibly be aware of it. In the eyes of all around, such a soul is wicked, perverted, broken, filthy, altogether a hopeless case—the offscouring of mankind the and refuse of the earth. Yet, “the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart,” (1 Samuel 16:7). For to You, Master, this soul is Your priceless bride, the one who satiates Your divine, mystical thirst.

Forgive me, Master Lord, that I take this blessed infinite thirst and try still to fill it with things and people foreign to You. If I were to keep it pure, it would be void of the strifes that drive me like an untamed beast in every direction. Dearest Jesus, thank You for teaching me that the only true remedy to satiate my thirst is to fill myself more and more with You. When You fill my eyes, they stop wandering left and right in comparisons and jealousies. When You fill my mind, it stops wandering in curiosity and imaginations left and right. When You fill my heart, it stops seeking foreign loves and finally finds the very rest and peace it so longs to the ends of the earth for.

Burning, burning blaze within
A consuming flame that never dims
Tiny yet bearing a power most potent
Stronger indeed than death
Ever scorching, blistering with white holy heat
Yet this heat, when misdirected, goes awry
It burns then for foreign deities
On every mountain and every high hill
“Treachery! Treachery!” the Lord cries in anguish
A greatly polluted land she has become⁴
She lurks by the road preying on any passerby
Like an Arabian in the wilderness⁵
With many lovers a harlot
The little, once holy flame
Becomes adulterous and profane
“Treachery! Treachery!” the Lord cries,
“A greatly polluted land!”
Therefore the showers have been withheld
And there has been no latter rain
You have had a harlot’s forehead
You refuse to be ashamed⁶
“With many lovers a harlot,
Yet to Me you shall return”
“Return, for I am married to you,
To Zion will I bring you”⁷
Beloved, indeed I return to You
Yet in reality it is You who come to me
With gentle cords, with bands of love
Stooping to take the yoke from my neck⁸
No longer a slave but redeemed
Bought at a price—the high price of blood⁹
No longer a harlot but a bride
To be soon in Your eyes a sanctified saint
With Your left hand You hold me
With Your right hand You embrace me¹⁰
You become my Teacher, Lover, Friend—my All
Most Holy and Beloved Bridegroom of my thirsty soul

1. St. Mary of Egypt is commemorated on the fifth Sunday of Great Lent. St. Photini is commemorated on April 2 (Old Calendar). ↩︎
2. John 4:19, 20 ↩︎
3. The biography of St. Mary of Egypt ↩︎
4. Jeremiah 3:1 ↩︎
5. Jeremiah 3:2 ↩︎
6. Jeremiah 3:3 ↩︎
7. Jeremiah 3:14 ↩︎
8. Hosea 11:4 ↩︎
9. 1 Corinthians 7:23 ↩︎
10. Song of Songs 2:6 ↩︎