Psalms 120:6

"My soul hath wandered much" [Psalm 120:6]. Lest thou shouldest understand bodily wandering, he hath said that the soul wandered. The body wandereth in places, the soul wandereth in its affections. If thou love the earth, thou wanderest from God: if thou lovest God, thou risest unto God. Let us be exercised in the love of God, and of our neighbour, that we may return unto charity. If we fall towards the earth, we wither and decay. But one descended unto this one who had fallen, in order that he might arise. Speaking of the time of his wandering, he said that he wandered in the tents of Kedar. Wherefore? Because "my soul hath wandered much." He wandereth there where he ascendeth. He wandereth not in the body, he riseth not in the body. But wherein doth he ascend? "The ascent," he saith, "is in the heart."

But why should that be hard to bear which we must one day ourselves endure? And why do we grieve for the dead? We are not born to live forever. Abraham, Moses and Isaiah, Peter, James and John, Paul, the "chosen vessel," and even the Son of God have all died; and are we vexed when a soul leaves its earthly tenement? Perhaps he is taken away, "lest wickedness should alter his understanding … for his soul pleased the Lord; therefore he hastened to take him away from the people"—lest in life's long journey he should lose his way in some trackless maze. We should indeed mourn for the dead, but only for one whom Gehenna receives, whom Tartarus devours and for whose punishment the eternal fire burns. But we who, in departing, are accompanied by an escort of angels and met by Christ, should rather grieve that we have to tarry yet longer in this tabernacle of death. For "while we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord." Our one longing should be that expressed by the psalmist: "Woe is me that my pilgrimage is prolonged, that I have dwelled with them who dwell in Kedar, that my soul has made a far pilgrimage." Kedar means darkness, and darkness stands for this present world (for, we are told, "the light shines in darkness; and the darkness comprehends it not"). Therefore we should congratulate our dear Blaesilla, that she has passed from darkness to light, and has in the first flush of her dawning faith received the crown of her completed work. Had she been cut off (as I pray that none may be) while her thoughts were full of worldly desires and passing pleasures, then mourning would indeed have been her due, and no tears shed for her would have been too many. As it is, by the mercy of Christ she, four months ago, renewed her baptism in her vow of widowhood, and for the rest of her days spurned the world and thought only of the religious life.

Woe is me, that my sojourning is prolonged. This the holy man says, who does not desire the body, who does not seek the earth, who longs for heaven. Woe is me, that my sojourning is prolonged. When we are sick, when we are feverish, when we suspect we are dying, when we throw about our arms, when we are afraid, when we beg for a respite, we cannot say this little verse. This man was healthy, he was not sick, and what does he say? Woe is me, that my sojourning is prolonged.

Which peace our Lord Jesus Christ proclaimed and gave; of whose preaching our father Francis was a renewer, announcing peace at the beginning and end of every sermon, wishing peace in every greeting, sighing for ecstatic peace in every contemplation, like a citizen of that …

My soul hath long dwelt with him that hateth peace.