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Wednesday of the Second week of Advent

Commentary of the day
The Ruleof the Master, monastic Rule of the 6th century
Invitatory ; SC 105

“Come to me, all you who labor"

We are to traverse the route of this life in ignorance of good deeds and uncertainty of death’s trial. Our journey through the world had laden us with a large burden of sinful negligence… Suddenly, in the East, we glimpsed a spring of living water we had not looked for. While we were hurrying towards it, God’s voice was heard crying out to us: “You who are thirsty, come to the water!” (Is 55,1). Seeing us draw near, weighed down with heavy baggage, it went on: “Come to me, you who toil and are heavy burdened, and I will give you rest”. And when we heard that voice, so full of kindness, we threw our luggage to the ground. Overcome with thirst, we lay down on the ground to draw eagerly from the spring; for a long time we drank and rose up renewed.

When we had stood up again, we remained there completely stupefied in the abundance of our joy. We regarded the yoke we had so painfully carried along the way and the luggage that had wearied us almost to death, ignorant of who we were. And while we were absorbed in our reflections, once again we heard that voice coming out of the spring that had restored us to life: “Take my yoke upon you; learn from me; for I am meek and humble of heart and you will find rest for your souls. My yoke is easy and my burden light.” At these words we said to one another: “Let us not go back again now we have found life thanks to such a spring… Let us not take up again the burden of the sins we threw away when we went to the baptismal spring… Now we have received the God’s wisdom… We have been called into his rest by the voice of the Lord.”

The morrow after Simon and Jude’s day I was hanged at the wall from the ground, my manacles fast locked into a staple as high as I could reach upon a stool: the stool taken away where I hanged from a little after 8 o’clock in the morning till after 4 in the afternoon, without any ease or comfort at all, saving that Topcliffe came in and told me that the Spaniards were come into Southwark by our means: ‘For lo, do you not hear the drums’ (for then the drums played in honour of the Lord Mayor). The next day after also I was hanged up an hour or two: such is the malicious minds of our adversaries.

-- Saint Eustace White in a letter written to Father Henry Garnet from prison, November 23, 1591.