St. Bernard – Love is the Soul’s Greatness

St. Bernard of Clairvaux, Church of St. Louis, Buffalo, NY

PART of St. Bernard’s commentary on Canticle 1:5, I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon. Here the bride (the soul) says that it is “black” — that is sinful.  Yet beneath sin is the beautiful image of God, so that the soul may also claim to be comely. An essential theme of the Song of Songs is the soul’s realization that God finds it beautiful and loves it beyond all measure. 

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SERMON 27

The Beauty of the Bride Compared to the Curtains of Solomon, Why She is Called a Heaven

“As the curtains of Solomon.” [Cant 1:5]

“for ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in them” [2 Cor 6:16].

IN what way can she be beautiful like the curtains of Solomon, as if Solomon in all his glory could even remotely resemble the beauty of the bride, or possessed anything to match the splendor of her adornment? Even if I were to say that these mysterious curtains refer to the quality of blackness as well as to the tents of Kedar, I should perhaps be correct; there are arguments to support this, as I shall show later. But if we suppose that the beauty of any sort of curtains is to be compared to the glory of the bride, then we need the help for which you have been praying, if we are to be worthy to unveil this mystery. For must not outward loveliness, no matter how radiant, seem to an enlightened mind to be cheap and ugly, when compared with the inward beauty of a holy soul? What qualities can we find within the framework of this passing world that can equal the radiance of a soul that has shed its decrepit, earthly body, and been clothed in heaven’s loveliness, graced with the jewels of consummate virtue, clearer than mountain air because of its transcendence, more brilliant than the sun? So do not look back to the earthly Solomon when you wish to investigate the ownership of those curtains whose beauty delights the bride because so like her own.

2. What does she mean then by saying: “I am beautiful like the curtains of Solomon”? I feel that here we have a great and wonderful mystery, provided that we apply the words, not to the Solomon of this Song, but to him who said of himself: “What is here is greater than Solomon.” [Mat 12:42] This Solomon to whom I refer is so great a Solomon that he is called not only Peaceful — which is the meaning of the word Solomon — but Peace itself; for Paul proclaims that “He is our Peace.” [Eph 2:14] I am certain that in this Solomon we can discover something that we may unhesitatingly compare with the beauty of the bride. Note especially what the Psalm says of his curtains: “You have spread out the heavens like a curtain.” [Ps. 104:2; cf. Isa 40:22] The first Solomon, though sufficiently wise and powerful, did not spread out the heavens like a curtain; it was he, rather who is not merely wise but Wisdom itself, who both created them and spread them out. It was he, and not the former Solomon, who spoke these words of God his Father: “When he set the heavens in their place, I was there.” [Pro 8:27] His power and his wisdom were undoubtedly present at the establishing of the heavens. And do not imagine that he stood by idle, as merely a spectator, because he said “I was there,” and not “I was cooperating.” Search further on in this text and you will find that he clearly states he was with him arranging all things. Therefore he said: “Whatever the Father does, the Son does too.” [Joh 5:19] He it was who spread out the heavens like a curtain, a curtain of superlative beauty that covers the whole face of the earth like a huge tent, and charms our human eyes with the variegated spectacle of sun and moon and stars. Is there anything more lovely than this curtain? Anything more bejeweled than the heavens? Yet even this can in no way be compared to the splendor and comeliness of the bride. It fails because it is a physical thing, the object of our physical senses; its form will pass away. “For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” [2 Cor 4:18]

3. The bride’s form must be understood in a spiritual sense, her beauty as something that is grasped by the intellect; it is eternal because it is an image of eternity. Her gracefulness consists of love, and you have read that “love never ends.” [1 Cor 13:8] It consist of justice, for “her justice endures forever.” It consists of patience, and Scripture tells you “the patience of the poor shall not perish forever.”[ Ps. 9:18] What shall I say of voluntary poverty? Of humility? To the former an eternal kingdom is promised, to the latter an eternal exaltation. To these must be added the holy fear of the Lord that endures for ever and ever; prudence too, and temperance and fortitude and all other virtues; what are they but pearls in the jeweled raiment of the bride, shining with unceasing radiance? I say unceasing, because they are the basis, the very foundation of immortality. For there is no place for immortal and blissful life in the soul except by means and mediation of the virtues. …

4. Though this visible, material heaven, with its great variety of stars is unsurpassingly beautiful within the bounds of the material creation, I should not dare to compare its beauty with the spiritual and varied loveliness she received with her first robe when being arrayed in the garments of holiness. But there is a heaven of heavens to which the Prophet refers. “Sing to the Lord who mounts above the heaven of heavens, to the east.” [Ps. 68:33] This heaven is in the world of the intellect and the spirit; and he who made the heavens by his wisdom, created it to be his eternal dwelling-place. You must not suppose that the bride’s affections can find rest outside of this heaven, where she knows her Beloved dwells: for where her treasure is, there her heart is too. She so yearns for him that she is jealous of those who live in his presence; and since she may not yet participate in the vision that is theirs, she strives to resemble them in the way she lives. By deeds rather than words she proclaims: “Lord, I love the beauty of your house, the place where your glory dwells.” [Ps. 26:8] …

IV. 6. Contemplate what a glory is hers who compares herself to heaven, even to that heaven who is so much more glorious as he is divine. This is no rashness, taking her comparison from whence her origin comes. For if she compares herself to the tents of Kedar because of her body drawn from the earth, why should she not glory in her likeness to heaven because of the heavenly origin of her soul, especially since her life bears witness to her origin and to the dignity of her nature and her homeland? She adores and worships one God, just like the angels; she loves Christ above all things, just like the angels; she is chaste, just like the angels, and that in the flesh of a fallen race, in a frail body that the angels do not have. But she seeks and savors the things that they enjoy, not the things that are on the earth. What can be a clearer sign of her heavenly origin than that she retains a natural likeness to it in the land of unlikeness, than that as an exile on earth she enjoys the glory of the celibate life, than that she lives like an angel in an animal body? These gifts reveal a power that is more of heaven than of earth. They clearly indicate that a soul thus endowed is truly from heaven. …

10. WHAT a capacity this soul has, how privileged its merits, that it is found worthy not only to receive the divine presence, but to be able to make sufficient room! What can I say of her who can provide avenues spacious enough for the God of majesty to walk in! She certainly cannot afford to be entangled in law-suits nor by worldly cares; she cannot be enslaved by gluttony and sensual pleasures, by the lust of the eyes, the ambition to rule, or by pride in the possession of power. If she is to become heaven, the dwelling-place of God, it is first of all essential that she be empty of all these defects. Otherwise how could she be still enough to know that he is God? Nor may she yield in the least to hatred or envy or bitterness, “because wisdom will not enter a deceitful soul.” [Wis 1:4] The soul must grow and expand, that it may be roomy enough for God. Its width is its love, if we accept what the Apostle says: “Widen your hearts in love.” [2 Cor 6:13] The soul, being a spirit, does not admit of material expansion, but grace confers gifts on it that nature is not equipped to bestow. Its growth and expansion must be understood in a spiritual sense; it is its virtue that increases, not its substance. Even its glory is increased. And finally it grows and advances toward “mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.” [Eph 4:13] Eventually it becomes “a holy temple in the Lord.” [Eph 2:21] The capacity of any man’s soul is judged by the amount of love he possesses; hence he who loves much is great, he who loves a little is small, he who has no love is nothing, as Paul said: “If I have not love, I am nothing.” [1 Cor 13:3] But if he begins to acquire some love however, if he tries at least to love those who love him, and salutes the brethren and others who salute him, I may no longer describe him as nothing because some love must be present in the give and take of social life. In the words of the Lord, however, what more is he doing than others. When I discover a love as mediocre as this, I cannot call such a man noble or great: he is obviously narrow-minded and mean.

11. But if his love expands and continues to advance till it outgrows these narrow, servile confines, and finds itself in the open ranges where love is freely given in full liberty of spirit; when from the generous bounty of his goodwill he strives to reach out to all his neighbors, loving each of them as himself, surely one may no longer query, “What more are you doing than others?” Indeed he has made himself vast. His heart is filled with a love that embraces everybody…

VII. 12. Do you not now see what heavens the Church possesses within her, and that she herself, in her universality, is an immense heaven, stretching out “from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth.” [Ps. 72:8[ Consider therefore, to what you may compare her in this respect, provided you do not forget what I mentioned a short while ago concerning the heaven of heaven and heavens of heavens. Just like our mother above, this one, though still a pilgrim, has her own heaven: spiritual men outstanding in their lives and reputations, men of genuine faith, unshaken hope, generous love, men raised to the heights of contemplation. These men rain down God’s saving work like showers, reprove with a voice of thunder, shine with a splendor of miracles. They proclaim the glory of God, and stretched out like curtains over all the earth, make known the law of life and knowledge written by God’s finger into their own lives, “to give knowledge of salvation to his people.” [Luk 1:77] They show forth the gospel of peace, because they are the curtain of Solomon.

Source: Walsh, Killian; Edmonds, Irene (trs.). Bernard of Clairvaux: Sermons on the Song of Songs. Vol. 1. Cistercian Publications, 1971.
Latin: Sermones in Cantica canticorum, Migne Patrologia Latina 183 785A−1198A, Paris, 1854.

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Bibliography

A priest of Mount Melleray. St Bernard’s Sermons on the Canticle of Canticles, 3 vols, Dublin, 1920. (Volume 1, Volume 2).

Eales, Samuel J. Saint Bernard: Cantica Canticorum, Eighty-six Sermons. London, 1895.

Leclercq, J.; Talbot, C. H., Rochais, H. M. (eds.). Sermones super Cantica canticorum, in Bernardi opera, volumes 1−2. Ed. Cistercienses, Rome, 1957−58. Latin critical edition.

Walsh, Killian; Edmonds, Irene (trs.). Bernard of Clairvaux: Sermons on the Song of Songs. 4 vols. CF (Cistercian Fathers Series) vols. 4, 7, 31, and 40. Spencer, MA: Cistercian Publications, 1971−80.

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St. Bernard on the Mystical Sense of Windows and Lattices in the Canticle

MORE from St. Bernard’s sermons on the Song of Songs.  He associates the lattices and windows  of verse 2.9 with, respectively, two forms of ‘confession’:  a confession of our sins, and a confession of praise and thanksgiving.  Through these openings — the former the lesser and the latter the greater — God, as Bernard puts it, may “regard thee with a gracious glance.”

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SERMON LVI

On the Mystical Sense of the Wall, the Windows, and the Lattices.

“Behold He standeth behind our wall, looking through the windows, looking through the lattices.” [Cant 2:9]

THERE is another matter which thou shouldst attend to with all possible vigilance. Thou must see to it that the Beloved shall always find wide open the windows and the lattices of thy confessions, if I may so speak, so that through these openings He may regard thee within with a gracious glance. For His regard is thy progress. Lattices (cancelli) are narrow windows, which persons who make a business of writing cause to be opened in the wall, in order to obtain light for their work. Hence, as I believe, the name “chancellors” is given to those who have the office of drawing up charters and other formal instruments. Now there are two species of confession, the one consisting in a sorrowful declaration of our sins, the other in a gladsome acknowledgment of the divine benefits. Whenever, therefore, I make that confession which is always accompanied with anguish (angustia) of heart — I mean the confession of sin — it appears to me that I have opened the lattice, that is to say, the narrow window (angustiorem fenestram). Nor can there be any doubt that He who stands behind the wall as a loving Observer, will gladly avail Himself of this aperture and look in upon me, because “a contrite and humbled heart God will not despise.” [Ps. 51:17] He Himself has told me to open my lattice for Him, saying by His Prophet, “Do thou first confess thy iniquities, that thou mayst be justified.” [Isa 43:26]

But if occasionally my heart dilates under the influence of charity and, thinking of the divine condescension and compassion, I feel moved to let my soul expand in the confession of praise and thanksgiving, at such times I may be truly said to open, not now the lattice, but the widest of my windows, for the sake of the Bridegroom Who stands behind the wall. And I think He will look in through this ampler opening the more willingly in proportion as the “sacrifice of praise glorifieth” [Ps. 50:23] Him more.

Source: St. Bernard, Sermons on the Song of Songs, Sermon 52.  Translation: A priest of Mount Melleray. St Bernard’s Sermons on the Canticle of Canticles, 3 vols, Dublin, 1920; vol. 2, pp. 141−142.

Latin: Sermones in Cantica canticorum, Migne Patrologia Latina 183 785A−1198A, Paris, 1854.

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Bibliography

A priest of Mount Melleray. St Bernard’s Sermons on the Canticle of Canticles, 3 vols, Dublin, 1920. (Volume 1, Volume 2).

Eales, Samuel J. Saint Bernard: Cantica Canticorum, Eighty-six Sermons. London, 1895.

Leclercq, J.; Talbot, C. H., Rochais, H. M. (eds.). Sermones super Cantica canticorum, in Bernardi opera, volumes 1−2. Ed. Cistercienses, Rome, 1957−58. Latin critical edition.

Walsh, Killian; Edmonds, Irene (trs.). Bernard of Clairvaux: Sermons on the Song of Songs. 4 vols. CF (Cistercian Fathers Series) vols. 4, 7, 31, and 40. Spencer, MA: Cistercian Publications, 1971−80.

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St. Bernard on Mystical Ecstasy

St. Bruno, Correrie Grand Chartreuse

ST. BERNARD wrote eighty-six sermons commenting on the Song of Songs.  A major theme of the commentary is that the Song is an allegory for union or marriage of the individual soul to God brought about, in part, through contemplation.  This sermon, which, discusses the ‘sleep of the soul’ or ecstasy, potentially influenced later Christian mystics like St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross.  

An interesting feature is St. Bernard’s distinction between two kinds of ecstasy.  The greater kind is the experience of losing awareness of sensations entirely during contemplation.  The lesser kind (“to live on earth unfettered by earthly desires”), although the precise meaning is unclear, suggests a kind of waking ecstasy, in which one may conduct the usual activities of life, but detached from earthly concerns.

St. Bernard’s sermons on the Song are surprisingly little studied today.

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SERMON LII

On the Mystical Sleep of the Spouse, and the two kinds of ecstasy.

“I adjure you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and the harts of the fields, that you stir not up nor make the beloved to wake till she please.” (Cant. 2:7)

This adjuration, my brethren, is addressed to the young maidens. For they are the “daughters of Jerusalem,” so called because although delicate and tender, and still weak and girlish in their actions and affections, nevertheless they cling close to the Spouse, in the hope of advancing towards and ultimately reaching the heavenly Jerusalem. These therefore the Bridegroom charges not to intrude upon His beloved whilst she is taking her repose, and on no account to presume to awaken her until it is her pleasure. For the reason why He places His Hand under her head, like a most affectionate husband (according to what has been said already), is in order that He may make her rest and slumber on His Bosom. And now the Holy Scripture further tells us that He most lovingly and condescendingly watches over her while she sleeps, lest the young maidens, with their frequent little troubles, should disturb her quiet and compel her to interrupt her repose. Such appears to be the literal connexion of our present text with the preceding. Yet as regards that solemn adjuration “by the roes and the harts of the fields,” if we take the words literally they seem to bear no relevant sense, so entirely are they appropriated to the spiritual signification. But however this may be, at all events, “it is good for us to be here” (Matt 17:4),  and to spend a little time contemplating the goodness, the sweetness, the gracious condescension of the heavenly Bridegroom. What tenderness, O man, hast thou ever found in any human affection to be compared with that which is revealed to us here from the Heart of the Most High? And the revelation is made by the Holy Ghost Who “searcheth the deep things of God” (1Cor 2:10), Who cannot be ignorant of anything contained in the Heart of Him Whose own Spirit He is, and, as being the Spirit of truth, cannot speak anything other than what He finds therein recorded.

Nor is there wanting of our own race one who has been so happy as to merit the joy of being made the object of this divine tenderness, and of experiencing in herself this delightful secrets of heavenly love. To question this would be to doubt the truth of the inspired passage which I am now discussing. For the celestial Bridegroom is clearly represented here as most anxiously concerned for the repose of a human Spouse very dear to Him, whom with affectionate solicitude He holds in His arms whilst she slumbers, fearful lest a sleep so pleasant should be disturbed by any annoyance or agitation. My brethren, I cannot contain myself for joy, when I think of how that infinite Majesty disdains not to stoop so low as to engage thus in sweet and familiar intercourse with our poor nature, when I think of how the Most High God vouchsafes to contract a marriage alliance with the soul even during the time of her exile, and to manifest towards her all the tender affection which the most loving of bridegrooms could show to his bride. I have no doubt that what we read of on earth is perfectly accomplished in the case of every soul in heaven. I believe that we shall fully experience there what we here find described in the holy Book; except that no language can give a true idea of the capacity for love which the soul shall have in the next life, nor even of that with which she is at present endowed. What, think you, is the happiness awaiting her in heaven, when even on earth she is treated so affectionately that she feels herself embraced with the arms of God, fostered on the Bosom of God, guarded by the watchfulness and jealousy of God, lest anything should disturb her slumber and cause her to awake before it is her pleasure?

But now, my brethren, let me explain, if I can, what is this sleep which the Bridegroom wants His Spouse to enjoy, and will not allow her to be awakened out of it except at her own desire. An explanation is necessary, because otherwise, when some one happens to read in the Apostle, “It is now the hour for us to rise from sleep” (Rom 13:11); or, in the psalms, that verse where David says to God, “Enlighten my eyes that I may never sleep in death” (Ps. 13:3), he may easily be puzzled by the ambiguity of the term sleep, and be quite unable to discover any worthy interpretation for the slumber of the Spouse, of which there is question here. Nor has this sleep anything in common with that whereof Christ spoke in the Gospel, when He said, “Lazarus our friend sleepeth; but I go that I may awake him out of sleep” (John 11:11). For the sleep He meant was the sleep of bodily death, although the disciples understood His words as referring to ordinary slumber. The sleep of the Spouse has nothing to do with the body. It is as distinct from that gentle sleep which for a time sweetly seals up the material senses, as it is from the more terrible which finally extinguishes the life of the flesh. Still less is it identified with the sleep of spiritual death which paralyses the soul whilst she obstinately perseveres in a state of sin. For instead of bringing darkness and torpor, the sleep of the Spouse is wakeful and life-giving; it illuminates the mind, expels the death of sin, and bestows immortality. Nevertheless, it is a true sleep, which transports rather than stupefies the faculties. It is also a true death. This I affirm without the least hesitation, since the Apostle says, in commendation of some who were still living in the flesh, “You are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God” (Col 3:3).

Therefore I also can be guilty of no absurdity when I describe the ecstasy of the Spouse as a kind of death, not the death which terminates life, but that which delivers her true life from danger, so that she may say with the Psalmist, “Our soul hath been delivered as a sparrow out of the snare of the fowlers” (Ps. 124:7) . For in the present life the soul is always surrounded by the snares of temptation, which, however, have no power to frighten her as often as she is transported out of herself by some holy and irresistible attraction, if yet the mental exaltation and ravishment be so great as to lift her above the common and usual modes of thinking and feeling. So we read in Proverbs, “A net is spread in vain before the eyes of them that have wings” (Prov 1:17), Douay). For what has such a soul to fear from sensuality, since she has lost even the faculty of sensation? No longer conscious of material impressions, though remaining still the principle of life to the body, she is necessarily inaccessible to temptations from the senses. “Who will give me the wings of a dove and I will fly and be at rest?” (Ps. 55:6) Would to God that I could often endure a death of this kind and thus escape the snares of a more terrible death! So should I be insensible to the fatal allurements of luxury; so should I be unconscious of the stings of the flesh, of the suggestions of avarice, of the swellings of anger and impatience, of the torments of anxiety and the miseries of care. “Let my soul die the death of the just” (Num 23:10), so that deception  may no longer have power to ensnare me nor sin to seduce! Happy death which destroys not life, but changes it to better! Happy death which lifts the soul to heaven without laying the body low!

Yet this manner of dying is peculiar to men. Therefore, “Let my soul die the death of the angels” also (if I may use the expression), so that escaping from the memory of all present things, she may strip herself, not alone of the desires, but even of the images of inferior and corporeal objects, and may converse spiritually with them whom she resembles in spirituality! The name contemplation, as it seems to me, belongs either solely or principally to such a mental ecstasy. It is the part of human virtue to live on earth unfettered by earthly desires; but to be able to contemplate truth without the help of material or sensible images is the characteristic of angelic purity. Yet each of these two is the gift of God. Each is a true ecstasy. In each the soul rises above herself, but in the second far higher than in the first. Blessed is the soul which can say in this sense, “Lo, I have gone far off, flying away; and I abode in the wilderness“!  (Ps. 55:7) It is not enough for her that she is transported out of herself, unless she can fly far away and be at rest. Thou hast obtained such a victory over the temptations of the flesh that thou dost no longer gratify its concupiscence nor yield assent to its enticements. This certainly is progress. Thou hast truly gone forth from thyself. But thou hast not yet flown afar, unless, by the purity of thy mind, thou art able to rise above the images of sensible objects, which are constantly rushing in upon thee from every side. Until thou hast attained to this, do not promise thyself any rest. Thou art in error if thou thinkest that the place of repose, the quiet of solitude, the perfection of light, and the dwelling of peace can be found any nearer. But show me the man who has arrived at this point, and I shall unhesitatingly pronounce him to be at rest and qualified to say, “Turn, O my soul, into thy rest; for the Lord hath been bountiful to thee” (Ps. 116:7). Here truly is a home in solitude, and a dwelling in the light, and, according to the Prophet Isaias, “a tabernacle for a shade in the day-time from the heat, and a security and covert from the whirlwind and from the rain” (Is. 4:6). It is of the same the Psalmist sings, “For He hath hidden me in His tabernacle; in the day of evils He hath protected me in the secret place of His tabernacle” (Ps. 27:5).

It appears to me, therefore, that it is into this solitude the Spouse has retired, and there, overpowered by the beauty of the place, has sweetly fallen asleep in the arms of her Beloved. In other words, she has been visited by the slumber of spiritual rapture, and this is the sleep out of which the young maidens are forbidden to awaken her, until she herself pleases. … [JU: the remaining section considers the allegorical meaning of “the roes and the harts.”]

Source: St. Bernard, Sermons on the Song of Songs, Sermon 52.  Translation: A priest of Mount Melleray. St Bernard’s Sermons on the Canticle of Canticles, 3 vols, Dublin, 1920; vol. 2, pp. 91−100.

Latin: Sermones in Cantica canticorum, Migne Patrologia Latina 183 785A−1198A, Paris, 1854.

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Bibliography

A priest of Mount Melleray. St Bernard’s Sermons on the Canticle of Canticles, 3 vols, Dublin, 1920. (Volume 1, Volume 2).

Eales, Samuel J. Saint Bernard: Cantica Canticorum, Eighty-six Sermons. London, 1895.

Leclercq, J.; Talbot, C. H., Rochais, H. M. (eds.). Sermones super Cantica canticorum, in Bernardi opera, volumes 1−2. Ed. Cistercienses, Rome, 1957−58. Latin critical edition.

Walsh, Killian; Edmonds, Irene (trs.). Bernard of Clairvaux: Sermons on the Song of Songs. 4 vols. CF (Cistercian Fathers Series) vols. 4, 7, 31, and 40. Spencer, MA: Cistercian Publications, 1971−80.

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Psalm 45. The Mystical Marriage

Monastery of St. John the Baptist, Megara

PSALM 45 (Ps. 44 LXX) is another hidden gem.  The Book of Psalms is a magnificent work — even by itself one of the greatest treatises on spiritual life we possess.  The weakening of spiritual life in the West today is proportional to the loss in fervor with which people study and pray Psalms, which in previous centuries was a mainstay of Christian spiritual life. It’s not enough to read or hear isolated verses of Psalms during masses and liturgies.  A thorough, attentive, and repeated reading of the whole work is needed. Only then may one recognize it as an organic unity with an express aim. That aim is to help effect a transformation of soul.  Psalms not only give us a conceptual framework for understanding that process of transformation, but, insofar as we pray individual psalms (or perhaps sing them) devoutly and meditate on their meanings, it becomes a means of effecting that transformation.

The subject is a marriage involving the soul. The resemblance to the Song of Songs is evident and striking. It would be interesting to know which was written earlier: does the first epitomize the second, or the second expand the first?

To begin there is one verse of introduction, a masterpiece of economy and eloquence, and immediately rivets our attention on what is to follow:

[1] My heart is inditing a good matter: I speak of the things which I have made touching the king: my tongue is the pen of a ready writer.

There is no doubt — on this virtually all commentators agree — but that this psalm does not describe any historical event, but its meaning is found in symbolism and allegorical interpretation. There are two principal figures in the psalm: the King, and the Bride.

The King

[2] Thou art fairer than the children of men: grace is poured into thy lips: therefore God hath blessed thee for ever.
[3] Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, O most mighty, with thy glory and thy majesty.
[4] And in thy majesty ride prosperously because of truth and meekness and righteousness; and thy right hand shall teach thee terrible things.
[5] Thine arrows are sharp in the heart of the king’s enemies; whereby the people fall under thee.
[6] Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever: the sceptre of thy kingdom is a right sceptre.
[7] Thou lovest righteousness, and hatest wickedness: therefore God, thy God, hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows.
[8] All thy garments smell of myrrh, and aloes, and cassia, out of the ivory palaces, whereby they have made thee glad.

The King here is almost universally understood to signify Christ.  However, it’s also possible to understand the figure as symbolic of an Inner Christ within the soul.  These two interpretations are not mutually exclusive, but to supply a satisfactory discussion of the relationship of Christ to the Inner Christ (however valuable that might be) is beyond the present scope. We may observe, though, that such a parallel is implied by the important Christian doctrine of theosis (becoming like God).  Most unfortunate it is that this doctrine receives so little attention today outside the Orthodox Churches. We come to see, know and love God only to the degree that we become like Him. Our spiritual life is one of gradual coming to be like God, as we proceed from glory to glory. (2 Cor.3:18)

Of what, then, does the beauty of the King consist? We are told that He has the qualities of truth, meekness and righteousness. As we read and reflect on the psalm, we rediscover a great truth of our own soul: that we find this figure of supreme righteousness innately and irresistibly attractive. We cannot help but love deeply and intensely these divine virtues, because these also constitute the deepest nature of our own soul. We love in others what we treasure — sometimes without realizing it — in ourselves.  Reading these verses and calling to our imagination a vision of this King, we are confronted with a great truth of our own soul: we love Righteousness and Moral Beauty — and  far more so than anything related to the material world.  This realization jolts us into a proper remembrance of our true nature.

Yet the King is not only great in moral beauty, but also awesome and sublime in a sense that is, we might say, terrifying.  The very perfection of truth and righteousness which we admire in the King makes falsehood and wickedness perfectly unacceptable to Him.  Hence He is also portrayed as taking an aggressive stance against evil. This creates a psychological paradox for us — one that, in a sense, is the same paradox inherent in that potent expression, fear of the LORD. The same pure King of Righteousness, whose beauty we find so irresistibly attractive, is also a source in like degree of great apprehensiveness.  For we do not believe we are pure and holy.  Even the best of us harbors a deep awareness of our carnal nature and selfish tendencies. As we are drawn toward the beautiful King, we recoil, as though feeling as St. Peter did when he said, Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord. (Luke 5:8)

Therefore, while Christ, loving and patient, continually beckons us forward, saying, “Fear not!  Come into your Father’s house, to the place that has been prepared for you,” we are divided.  We wish both to proceed and to draw back, lest, coming into the presence of the Father, our sinful side will be seen and incur rejection and wrath.

This is an elemental conflict which must be resolved within the psyche of the devoted reader.  The harder task, perhaps, is not so much the elimination of all sin, but to accept that God loves us completely despite our sins.  This is a matter of great import.  For insofar as guilt and shame dominates our mind, we will seek to by our own efforts to conquer sin — the polar opposite of what we need.  But if we focus our attention on God’s generosity, understanding and love, we will see that it is by grace we are saved. So far from human understanding is this great truth!

The Bride

[9] Kings’ daughters were among thy honourable women: upon thy right hand did stand the queen in gold of Ophir.
[10] Hearken, O daughter, and consider, and incline thine ear; forget also thine own people, and thy father’s house;
[11] So shall the king greatly desire thy beauty: for he is thy Lord; and worship thou him.
[12] And the daughter of Tyre shall be there with a gift; even the rich among the people shall intreat thy favour.
[13] The king’s daughter is all glorious within: her clothing is of wrought gold.
[14] She shall be brought unto the king in raiment of needlework: the virgins her companions that follow her shall be brought unto thee.
[15] With gladness and rejoicing shall they be brought: they shall enter into the king’s palace.
[16] Instead of thy fathers shall be thy children, whom thou mayest make princes in all the earth.
[17] I will make thy name to be remembered in all generations: therefore shall the people praise thee for ever and ever.

The bride here has traditionally been given three alternative meanings:  (1) the Church, (2) the soul, and (3) the Blessed Virgin Mary.  Examples of all three interpretations can be found throughout ancient and medieval commentaries on the Song of Songs. The meanings overlap and are interact, so we need not worry overmuch about making an exact distinction among them. The Church, after all, is a collection of individual souls, and what applies to one, generally applies to the other. Similarly, the Blessed Virgin is frequently taken as a kind of ideal for the individual soul.  This not withstanding, our focus of attention here is on the bride as an individual soul.

Why is the soul symbolized as a female figure, as it would seem to transcend distinctions of gender. Apparently what is symbolized is not the entire soul, but that part of it that is connected with such things as feeling, sensation, emotion and desiring.  This affective soul (anima) would be the counterpart of another part of our soul, the intellective (animus).  In that case, we might possibly interpret the King as a symbol of the animus, to which the anima soul is being united in some new and fundamentally improved way.  Such an inner marriage has many archetypal counterparts in mythology (e.g., Martinus Capella’s Marriage of Philology and Mercury and Apuleius’ Marriage of Eros and Psyche), and some alchemical literature. A Jungian would see this as a representation of a conjiunctio or marriage of the conscious and unconscious psyche.

It is not correct for Christians to summarily and completely dismiss secular psychological or esoteric writers merely because they depart from orthodox Christianity. Even if they are merely half-right, we must pay attention to the half that is right.  Just as St. Augustine in On Christian Doctrine reminds us to read Scripture charitably, so as to not miss important meanings, so the principle of charity applies to reading secular works and writings from other spiritual traditions.

That said, the orthodox Christian (or, for that matter Jewish) and the Jungian view produce two complementary psychological interpretations of the marriage. The former sees the mystical marriage as an ascent of human consciousness to God.  The latter sees it as an integration of psychic functions that produce an intensification and revitalization of waking consciousness in and of this world — that is, attainment of what Abraham Maslow called  Being-experience. Elsewhere I have suggested that Plato’s philosophy, as shown particularly in his myths, can be understood as helping to attain both: mystical ascent and Being-experience. These two meanings are not mutually exclusive, and there is much in the Gospel to suggest it is as much concerned with the latter as the former. The telos of Christian ethics must be complete and integral if it is to be satisfying and compelling.

To return to the psalm, the Queen has female attendants, which may symbolize particular powers or faculties of the soul.  For example, they could mean the senses, or perhaps higher-level creative powers such as are symbolized in Greek myth by the Muses. Her garment of finest gold and its fine embroidery suggest a radiant and beautiful assortment of virtues.

The bride is told to leave her father’s land.  Many commentators plausibly suggest that this refers to the soul leaving its natural homeland of attachment to sensory and worldly goods, and fixing its affection on spiritual things.  (See excerpt from St. Ambrose below.)

In verse 11 we see that it is precisely because the soul rejects the worldly and turns to heavenly things that the King finds her beautiful.  This is a key point, and a magnificent one. It addresses and solves the aforementioned paradox.  Despite our fears and misgivings about being acceptable to God, we here are taught that we already possess, at least in potential, something that God treasures dearly.  Our soul becomes not just good, but supremely beautiful — possessing the very kind of moral beauty that the King prizes — by making the moral choice to turn from flesh to spirit.  We need not recoil from God due to an our awareness of sinfulness, for God has endowed us with a nature He finds supremely beautiful.  We must constantly redirect our attention to that fact.

Attending the wedding as a guest is another female figure, the Queen of Tyre. Tyre is a Philistine (i.e., heathen) city — so this figure may indicate some ruling power or sub-personality (for clarification of these terms see my previous post on Philonic interpretation) concerned with worldly things.  Significantly, this woman bears a gift.  What that gift is we are not told, and it is up to us to learn experientially.  It might involve the ability to enjoy sensory goods and pleasures to a far greater degree than we could before.  That is, if we are attached to the senses, we cannot really enjoy their offerings, because we are divided: we are simultaneous aware of defection, of giving our allegiance to the wrong place, which degrades the integrity of consciousness and diminishes enjoyment.  But if our allegiance remains in heaven, then we my touch the world of sense delicately, savoring it as we would the delicate scent of a rose, rather than dulling our senses with cheap perfume.

Princely offspring of the bride are also promised. Perhaps these would be intellectual activities, projects, and works initiated by the redeemed, reformed and divinized mind.

Conclusion

These are some possible interpretations.  They are only tentative, approximate and suggestive — hints, hopefully to that fuller understanding attainable only by devout reading and meditation.

As said before, there is an important performative dimension to interpreting the psalms.  Understanding comes more from praying than analyzing them.  This is true generally of biblical exegesis, and perhaps especially the Wisdom Books. There is a self-referential or circular quality:  by spiritual mindedness we understand the deeper meanings, and a main purpose of the Bible is to help us gain spiritual mindedness.  Norris puts this well:

“[Gregory of Nyssa] says not only that the Song in some fashion narrates an exemplary soul’s progress in knowledge and love of God but also that readers of the Song may themselves, through their comprehension of it, be brought along as actual participants in the same progress. The text of the Song has a kind of symbolic or sacramental character, then, in that to understand it fully is to be involved with the reality it speaks of.” (p. xlv).

Similarly, Origen, in his Commentary on the Song of Songs, interprets the words behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves’ eyes (Song 1.15) to mean that the eyes of the exegete are illumined by the Holy Spirit and enabled to see spiritual meanings of Scripture. (Origen Comm. Cant. 3.1)

Thus it is not the purpose here or in other articles to replace the effort of each reader with formulaic interpretations.

Let us, then, simply close with a passage from St. Ambrose’s commentary on the Song (found in his work On Isaac, or the Soul) I encountered in preparing this article which seems very relevant:

(8.78) Let us then take up these wings, since like flames they aim for the higher regions. Let each man divest his soul of her baser coverings and approve her when she is cleansed of the mire just as he would approve gold cleansed by fire. For the soul is cleansed just like the finest gold. Moreover the beauty of the soul, her pure virtue and attractiveness, is her truer knowledge of the things that are above, so that she sees the good on which all things depend, but which itself depends on none. There she lives and receives her understanding. For that supreme good is the fountain of life; love and longing for it are enkindled in us, and it is our desire to approach and be joined to it, for it is desirable to him who does not see it and is present to him who sees it, and therefore he disregards all other things and takes pleasure and delight in this one only. …

Let us flee therefore to our real, true fatherland [cf. Plotinus, Enneads 1.6.5]. There is our fatherland and there is our Father, by whom we have been created, where there is the city of Jerusalem, which is the mother of all men. (8.79) … Let us flee with the spirit and the eyes and feet that are within. Let us accustom our eyes to see what is bright and clear, to look upon the face of continence and of moderation, and upon all the virtues, in which there is nothing scabrous, nothing obscure or involved. And let each one look upon himself and his own conscience; let him cleanse that inner eye, so that it may contain no dirt. For what is seen ought not to be at variance with him who sees, because God has wished that we be conformed to the image of His Son. … This is the eye that looks upon the true and great beauty. Only the strong and healthy eye can see the sun; only the good soul can see the good. Therefore let him become good who wishes to see the Lord and the nature of the good.

❧

References

Astell, Ann W. The Song of Songs in the Middle Ages. Cornell University Press, 1990.

McHugh, Michael P. (tr.). Saint Ambrose: Isaac, or the Soul (De Isaac vel anima). In: Michael P. McHugh (ed.), Saint Ambrose: Seven Exegetical Works, Fathers of the Church 65, CUA Press, 1972 (repr. 2010); pp. 9−65.

Lawson, R. P. (tr.). Origen: The Song of Songs Commentary and Homilies. Ancient Christian Writers 26. Newman Press, 1957.

Norris Jr., Richard A. (tr.). Gregory of Nyssa: Homilies on the Song of Songs. Society of Biblical Literature, 2012.

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Pitirim Sorokin: Techniques for the Altruistic Transformation of Individuals and Society

I just posted this at Satyagraha, my cultural psychology blog, but it’s relevant here also, especially since it considers prayer and contemplation (among other things) as practical and scientific means to effect moral and spiritual transformation.  The key ingredients for the individual and social changes most needed today, Sorokin argues persuasively, are agape love and techniques that help subordinate egoistic modes of thought to what he called the supraconscious. He based his conclusions on detailed studies of cultural history, the lives of great reformers like St. Francis, St. Teresa of Avila and Gandhi, and the ascetical-mystical traditions of East and West.

Satyagraha

OUR earlier article about Pitirim Sorokin (Culture in Crisis) explained the crises of modern culture as he understood them.  Especially in the wake of the Covid pandemic, it’s evident that, since that article was written (over a decade ago), crises have multiplied and intensified.  It’s appropriate, then, that we now direct attention more closely to the solutions Sorokin proposed.  Whereas in the past cultural transitions have occurred at the whim of chance and Fate, we must now, he argued, think in terms of intentional change, of active steps to produce an Idealistic culture.  This would involve a simultaneous transformation of individuals and society, but with the former as more primary.

Under the rubric of “Idealism” Sorokin understood the broad Platonic view of the unity of the True, the Good, and the Beautiful. Inseparable from these, he believed, is the principle of Love.  For personal and social transformation…

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Preface to Traherne

Art: Thomas Denny, Thomas Traherne windows (Hereford Cathedral, 2007) 

SINCE the rediscovery of Thomas Traherne’s work around the turn of 20th century, there has been wide consensus that he is a significant writer. There has been less agreement, however, on why he is significant — i.e., what his main contributions, especially for present times, consist of.

Somewhat unfortunately, many early commentators focused attention on his poetry, classifying him narrowly as an English metaphysical poet.  However, while his poetry is excellent, it is arguably,not quite as technically sophisticated as that of George Herbert or Henry Vaughan. Traherne’s best work is not his verse, but his Centuries of Meditations, which we might classify as prose-poetry.

Other writers sought to interpret Traherne as a critic of the newly emerging rationalism, especially of Hobbes.  More recently (e.g., Inge, 2009) attention has been drawn to his significance for Christian doctrinal theology.

Somewhat less attention, however, has been paid to simply understanding Traherne’s writings at face value:  as devotional works intended to stimulate and deepen the religious experience of readers. What if we simply allow that Traherne is authentically inspired?   In that case, perhaps we ought to be more interested in how he describes his work and mission than in historical or technical criticism.

Traherne’s two most sublime and famous works — the poems of the Dobell folio (Dobell, 1906) and Centuries of Meditations (Dobell, 1908) have been transmitted in manuscript form only and lack author prefaces.  However Traherne did prepare another work, Christian Ethicks, for publication (it reached print a year after his death) and this is prefaced with a ‘Note to the Reader.’  Here Traherne carefully and concisely explains his purpose.  Christian Ethicks is a systematic work, but it treats the same subjects as his poems and Centuries of Meditations.  Therefore his ‘To the Reader’ gives us insight into his intentions for these other works as well.

To the Reader, copied from the 1675 edition of Christian Ethicks is supplied below. Original spelling is retained.  Page numbers have been added in braces ({}) and paragraphs numbered in brackets ([]).  Some key points are as follows:

In the first paragraph he announces his aim to elevate the soul and inflame the heart.  He is interested in ethics not as a dry academic exercise or as theories developed by force of rational argument.  Rather he seeks to excite the intelligence and arouse the will, enabling people to seek and directly experience the religious and moral truths contained.  Here he follows the tradition of Plato — to achieve moral transformation by an ascent of the mind and heart and by recollection (anamnesis) of already known truths — and not the rationalism of Aristotle or scholasticism.

In [2−3] he contrasts his method with discussions that approach ethics either (1) dogmatically, as ‘things we must do because God so ordains’, or (2) based on practical expedience.  Indeed, a hallmark feature of Traherne’s philosophy is that ethics is what produces our greatest good, which he calls Felicity.  Felicity includes happiness, but is something more.  It also carries the sense of joy, illumination and holiness.  For Traherne, Felicity is the telos of human beings, our ethical summum bonum.  It unites in a single principle our greatest happiness, our duty, expedience, God’s will, love of God and charity to others.

Traherne has sometimes been criticized as being an impractical optimist, with no significant theory of evil.  He addresses this point in paragraph [4], taking the position that virtues are so good, beautiful and attractive in themselves that, if we can see them truly, they will by their own force overcome any attraction to baseness or sin. Hence explicit discussion of vice is a digression and a distraction from topics that matter more.

Traherne is clearly promoting what we would today call virtue ethics. In the subsequent paragraphs he alludes to a number of specific virtues, including the traditional cardinal and theological virtues.  Again in a characteristically Platonic way, he recognizes a fundamental unity amongst virtues.  At the center of them all is Goodness, the source of which is God.

The final paragraph emphasizes two things.  First, the essence of his entire system is to exhort us to God’s praise and glory.  God’s glory, for Traherne, is the essential fact of the universe.  This fact is not only virtually a logical necessity, but something Traherne claims to have experienced himself many times.  Further, we cannot doubt that it is his personal, passionate aim to convey this message to us so that we may achieve the Felicity of which he speaks.  Traherne presents his writings as a charitable outreaching to his readers, seeking to further God’s glory by making us want to further God’s glory, achieving, in the process, our own Felicity.  This kind of self-reinforcing circularity is recurring theme in his writings.

Finally and tellingly, he is careful to emphasize that we must not only understand these high truths intellectually, but “sense” them.

TO THE READER.

[1] THE design of this Treatise is, not to stroak and tickle the Fancy, but to elevate the Soul, and refine its Apprehensions, to inform the Judgment, and polish it for Conversation, to purifie and enflame the Heart, to enrich the Mind, and guide Men {ii} (that stand in need of help) in the way of Vertue; to excite their Desire, to encourage them to Travel, to comfort them in the Journey, and so at last to lead them to true Felicity, both here and hereafter.

[2] need not treat of Vertues in the ordinary way, as they are Duties enjoyned by the Law of GOD; that the Author of The whole Duty of Man *hath excellently done: nor as they are Prudential Expedients and Means for a mans Peace and Honour on Earth; that is in some measure done by the French Charon {iii} of Wisdom**. My purpose is to satisfie the Curious and Unbelieving Soul, concerning the reality, force, and efficacy of Vertue; and having some advantages from the knowledge I gained in the nature of Felicity (by many years earnest and diligent study) my business is to make as visible, as it is possible for me, the lustre of its Beauty, Dignity, and Glory: By shewing what a necessary Means Vertue is, how sweet, how full of Reason, how desirable in it self, how just and amiable, how delightful, and how powerfully conducive also {iv} to Glory: how naturally Vertue carries us to the Temple of Bliss, and how immeasurably transcendent it is in all kinds of Excellency.

[3] And (if I may speak freely) my Office is, to carry and enhance Vertue to its utmost height, to open the Beauty of all the Prospect, and to make the Glory of GOD appear, in the Blessedness of Man, by setting forth its infinite Excellency: Taking out of the Treasuries of Humanity those Arguments that will discover the great perfection of the End of Man, which he may atchieve {v} by the capacity of his Nature: As also by opening the Nature of Vertue it self, thereby to display the marvellous Beauty of Religion, and light the Soul to the sight of its Perfection.

[4] I do not speak much of Vice, which is far the more easie Theme, because I am intirely taken up with the abundance of Worth and Beauty in Vertue, and have so much to say of the positive and intrinsick Goodness of its Nature. But besides, since a strait Line is the measure both of it self, and of a crooked one, I conclude, That the very Glory of {vi} Vertue well understood, will make all Vice appear like dirt before Jewel, when they are compared together. Nay, Vice as soon as it is named in the presence of these Vertues, will look like Poyson and a Contagion, or if you will, as black as Malice and Ingratitude: so that there will need no other Exposition of its Nature, to dehort Men from the love of it, than the Illustration of its Contrary.

[5] Vertues are listed in the rank of Invisible things; of which kind, some are so blind as to deny there are any existent {vii} in Nature: But yet it may, and will be made easily apparent, that all the Peace and Beauty in the World proceedeth from them, all Honour and Security is founded in them, all Glory and Esteem is acquired by them. For the Prosperity of all Kingdoms is laid in the Goodness of GOD and of Men. Were there nothing in the World but the Works of Amity, which proceed from the highest Vertue, they alone would testifie of its Excellency. For there can be no Safety where there is any Treachery: But were all {viii} Truth and Courtesie exercis’d with Fidelity and Love, there could be no Injustice or Complaint in the World; no Strife, nor Violence: but all Bounty, Joy and Complacency. Were there no Blindness, every Soul would be full of Light, and the face of Felicity be seen, and the Earth be turned into Heaven.

[6] The things we treat of are great and mighty; they touch the Essence of every Soul, and are of infinite Concernment, because the Felicity is eternal that is acquired by them: I do not mean Immortal only but worthy to be Eternal: and it is {ix} impossible to be happy without them. We treat of Mans great and soveraign End, of the Nature of Blessedness, of the Means to attain it: Of Knowledge and Love, of Wisdom and Goodness, of Righteousness and Holiness, of Justice and Mercy, of Prudence and Courage, of Temperance and Patience, of Meekness and Humility, of Contentment, of Magnanimity and Modesty, of Liberality and Magnificence, of the waies by which Love is begotten in the Soul, of Gratitude, of Faith, Hope, and Charity, of Repentance, Devotion, {x} Fidelity, and Godliness. In all which we shew what sublime and mysterious Creatures they are, which depend upon the Operations of Mans Soul; their great extent, their use and value, their Original and their End, their Objects and their Times: What Vertues belong to the Estate of Innocency, what to the Estate of Misery and Grace, and what to the Estate of Glory. Which are the food of the Soul, and the works of Nature; which were occasioned by Sin, as Medicines and Expedients only: which are {xi} Essential to Felicity, and which Accidental; which Temporal, and which Eternal: with the true Reason of their Imposition; why they all are commanded, and how wise and gracious GOD is in enjoyning them. By which means all Atheism is put to flight, and all Infidelity: The Soul is reconciled to the Lawgiver of the World, and taught to delight in his Commandements: All Enmity and Discontentment must vanish as Clouds and Darkness before the Sun, when the Beauty of Vertue appeareth in its {xii} brightness and glory. It is impossible that the splendour of its Nature should be seen, but all Religion and Felicity will be manifest.

[7] Perhaps you will meet some New Notions: but yet when they are examined, he hopes it will appear to the Reader, that it was the actual knowledge of true Felicity that taught him to speak of Vertue; and moreover, that there is not the least tittle pertaining to the Catholick Faith contradicted or altered in his Papers. For he firmly retains all that was established in the {xiii} Ancient Councels, nay and sees Cause to do so, even in the highest and most transcendent Mysteries: only he enriches all, by farther opening the grandeur and glory of Religion, with the interiour depths and Beauties of Faith. Yet indeed it is not he, but GOD that hath enriched the Nature of it: he only brings the Wealth of Vertue to light, which the infinite Wisdom, and Goodness, and Power of GOD have seated there. Which though Learned Men know perhaps far better than he, yet he humbly craves pardon for casting in {xiv} his Mite to the vulgar Exchequer. He hath nothing more to say, but that the Glory of GOD, and the sublime Perfection of Humane Nature are united in Vertue. By Vertue the Creation is made useful, and the Universe delightful. All the Works of GOD are crowned with their End, by the Glory of Vertue. For whatsoever is good and profitable for Men is made Sacred; because it is delightful and well-pleasing to GOD: Who being LOVE by Nature, delighteth in his Creatures welfare.{xv}

[8] There are two sorts of concurrent Actions necessary to Bliss. Actions in GOD, and Actions in Men; nay and Actions too in all the Creatures. The Sun must warm, but it must not burn; the Earth must bring forth, but not swallow up; the Air must cool without starving, and the Sea moisten without drowning: Meats must feed but not poyson: Rain must fall, but not oppress: Thus in the inferiour Creatures you see Actions are of several kinds. But these may be reduced to the Actions of GOD, from whom they {xvi} spring; for he prepares all these Creatures for us. And it is necessary to the felicity of his Sons, that he should make all things healing and amiable, not odious and destructive: that he should Love, and not Hate: And the Actions of Men must concur aright with these of GOD, and his Creatures. They must not despise Blessings because they are given, but esteem them; not trample them under feet, because they have the benefit of them, but magnifie and extol them: They too must Love, and not Hate: They must not kill and murther, {xvii} but serve and pleasure one another: they must not scorn great and inestimable Gifts, because they are common, for so the Angels would lose all the happiness of Heaven. If GOD should do the most great and glorious things that infinite Wisdom could devise; if Men will resolve to be blind, and perverse, and sensless, all will be in vain: the most High and Sacred things will increase their Misery. This may give you some little glimpse of the excellency of Vertue.{xviii}

[9] You may easily discern that my Design is to reconcile Men to GOD, and make them fit to delight in him: and that my last End is to celebrate his Praises, in communion with the Angels. Wherein I beg the Concurrence of the Reader, for we can never praise him enough; nor be fit enough to praise him: No other man (at least) can make us so, without our own willingness, and endeavour to do it. Above all, pray to be sensible of the Excellency of the Creation for upon the due sense of its Excellency the life of {xix} Felicity wholly dependeth. Pray to be sensible of the Excellency of Divine Laws, and of all the Goodness which your Soul comprehendeth. Covet a lively sense of all you know, of the Excellency of GOD, and of Eternal Love; of your own Excellency, and of the worth and value of all Objects whatsoever. For to feel is as necessary, as to see their Glory.

* Anonymous, The Whole Duty of Man. London: Henry Hammond, 1658.  A popular 17th century Anglican devotional work.

** Pierre Charron, De la sagesse (translated into English as Of Wisdome, 1612).  Charron, a disciple of Montaigne, defended virtue on the basis of practical expedience.

Bibliography

Balakier, James, J. Thomas Traherne and the Felicities of the Mind. Amherst, NY: Cambria Press, 2010.

Dobell, Bertram (ed.). The Poetical Works of Thomas Traherne. London, 1903; 2nd ed. 1906.

Dobell, Bertram (ed.). Thomas Traherne: Centuries of Meditations. London, 1908.

Hunter, Stuart Charles. Prophet of Felicity: A Study of the Intellectual Background of Thomas Traherne. Diss. McMaster University, 1965.

Inge, Denise. Wanting Like a God: Desire and Freedom in Thomas Traherne. London: SCM Press, 2009.

Margoliouth, H. M. (ed.). Centuries, Poems, and Thanksgivings. 2 vols. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1958.

Marks, Carol L. Thomas Traherne and Hermes Trismegistus. Renaissance News, vol. 19, no. 2, 1966, 118–131.

Martz, Louis. The Paradise Within: Studies in Vaughan, Traherne, and Milton. New Haven and London, 1964.

Traherne, Thomas. Christian ethicks, or, Divine morality opening the way to blessedness, by the rules of vertue and reason. London, Jonathan Edwin, 1675. [Orig. edition]

1st draft: 1 Sep 2020

The Great Prayer of St. Augustine

Art: Unknown.

BETWEEN the time of his conversion and his baptism, St. Augustine retired with his family and friends to a villa in Casciago in the beautiful lake region north of Milan. There he wrote several dialogues in the manner of Cicero, including the Soliloquies. Years later Augustine described his conversion in the Confessions, but here we have, as it were, a direct window into his mind at this important period of his life. The Soliloquies opens with an inspired and impassioned prayer — full of phrases from the Neoplatonist Plotinus and the Bible.

While I was turning over in my mind many and divers matters, searching ceaselessly and intently through many a day for my very own self and my good, and what evil should be avoided, all at once a voice spoke to me— whether it was myself or another inside or outside of me I do not know, for that is the very thing I am endeavoring to find out. Reason thereupon spoke to me as follows:

Reason. Now then, suppose you had discovered something, to what would you consign it, in order that you might proceed to other matters?

Augustine. To memory, of course.

R. Is memory of such virtue that it well preserves all that has been thought out?

A. That is difficult; in fact, it is impossible.

R. It must be written down, then. But, what are you going to do now that your poor health shirks the task of writing? These matters ought not to be dictated, for they demand real solitude.

A. You speak the truth. Wherefore, I really do not know what I am to do.

2.
O God, the Founder of the Universe, grant me first of all that I may fittingly supplicate Thee; next, that I may so act that I may be worthy of a hearing from Thee; finally, I beg Thee to set me free.
O God, through whom all those things, which of themselves would not exist, strive to be.
O God, who dost not permit to perish even that which is self-destructive.
O God, who from nothing hast created this world which every eye sees to be most beautiful.
O God, who dost not cause evil, and who dost cause that it become not most evil.
O God, who, to those few who have their refuge in that which truly is, dost show that evil is nothing.
O God, through whom the universe, even with its sinister side, is perfect.
O God, by whose ordinance the uttermost discord is as naught, since the less perfect things are in harmony with the more perfect.’
O God, whom everything loves which is capable of loving whether knowingly or unknowingly.
O God, in whom are all things—and yet the shamefulness of every creature does not shame Thee, their wickedness does not harm Thee, nor docs their error deceive Thee.
O God, who hast not willed that any save the pure should know the True.
O God, the Father of Truth, the Father of Wisdom, Father of True and Supreme Life, Father of Happiness, Father of the Good and the Beautiful, Father of Intelligible Light, Father of our watching and our enlightenment, Father of the covenant by which we are admonished to return to Thee.

3.
I call upon Thee, O God the Truth, in whom and by whom and through whom all those things are true which are true.
O God, Wisdom, in whom and by whom and through whom all those are wise who are wise.
O God, True and Supreme Life, in whom and by whom and through whom all those things live which truly and perfectly live.
O God, Happiness, in whom and by whom and through whom all those things are happy which are happy.
O God, the Good and the Beautiful, in whom and by whom and through whom all those things are good and beautiful which are good and beautiful.
O God, Intelligible Light, in whom and by whom and through whom all those things which have intelligible light have their intelligible light.
O God, whose domain is the whole world unknown to sense.
O God, from whose realm law is promulgated even in these regions.
O God, from whom to turn away is to fall, to whom to turn is to rise again, in whom to abide is to stand firm.
O God, from whom to depart is to die, to whom to return is to be revived, in whom to dwell is to live.
O God, whom no one loses unless deceived, whom no one seeks unless admonished, whom no one finds unless he is purified.
O God, whom to abandon is to perish, whom to heed is to love, whom to see is to possess.
O God, to whom Faith moves us, Hope raises us, Charity unites us.
O God, through whom we overcome the enemy, Thee do I pray.
O God, through whom we obtain that we do not altogether perish.
O God, by whom we are admonished to be ever watchful.
O God, through whom we discern the good from the evil.
O God, through whom we flee evil and follow after good.
O God, through whom we are not overcome by afflictions.
O God, through whom we fittingly serve and fittingly rule.
O God, through whom we learn that that is alien to us which once we thought was meet for us, and that is meet which we used to think was alien.
O God, through whom we cling not to the charms and lures of evil.
O God, through whom deprivations do not abase us.
O God, through whom what is better in us is not under the dominion of our lower self.
O God, through whom death is swallowed up in victory.
O God, who dost convert us, stripping us of that which is not and clothing us with that which Is.
O God, who makest us worthy to be heard.
O God, who strengthenest us; who leadest us into all truth.
O God, who speakest to us of all good things; who dost not drive us out of our mind, nor permittest that anyone else do so.
O God, who callest us back to the way; who leadest us to the gate; who grantest that it is opened to those who knock.
O God, who givest us the bread of life.
O God, through whom we thirst for the cup, which when it is drunk we shall thirst no more.
O God, who dost convince the world of sin, of justice, and of judgment.
O God, through whom we are not shaken by those who have no faith.
O God, through whom we denounce the error of those who think that the merits of souls are naught before Thee.
O God, through whom we do not serve weak and beggarly elements.
O God, who dost cleanse us, who dost make us ready for divine rewards, graciously come to me.

4.
Whatever I have said, come to my aid, Thou, the one God, the one, eternal, true substance in whom there is no strife, no disorder, no change, no need, no death; where there is supreme harmony, supreme clarity, supreme permanence, supreme fullness, supreme life; where there is no deficiency and no excess; where the One begetting and the One begotten is One.
O God, who art served by all things which serve, who art obeyed by every good soul.
O God, by whose laws the poles revolve, the stars follow their courses, the sun rules the day, and the moon presides over the night; and all the world maintains, as far as this world of sense allows, the wondrous stability of things by means of the orders and recurrences of seasons: through the days by the changing of light and darkness, through the months by the moon’s progressions and declines, through the years by the successions of spring, summer, autumn, and winter, through the cycles by the completion of the sun’s course, through the great eras of time by the return of the stars to their starting points.
O God, by whose ever-enduring laws the varying movement of movable things is not suffered to be disturbed, and is always restored to a relative stability by the controls of the encompassing ages.
O God, by whose laws the choice of the soul is free, and rewards to the good and chastisements to the wicked are meted out in accord with inexorable and universal destiny.
O God, from whom all good things flow even unto us, and by whom all evil things are kept away from us.
O God, above whom, beyond whom, and without whom nothing exists.
O God, under whom everything is, in whom everything is, with whom everything is.
O God, who hast made man to Thine image and likeness, a fact which he acknowledges who knows himself.
Hear, hear, O hear me, my God, my Lord, my King, my Father, my Cause, my Hope, my Wealth, my Honor, my Home, my Native Land, my Salvation, my Light, my Life.
Hear, hear, O hear me, in that way of Thine well known to a select few.

5.
Thee alone do I love; Thee alone do I follow; Thee alone do I seek; Thee alone am I ready to serve, for Thou alone hast just dominion; under Thy sway do I long to be.
Order, I beg Thee, and command what Thou wilt, but heal and open my ears, so that with them I may hear Thy words.
Heal and open my eyes so that with them I may perceive Thy wishes.
Banish from me my senselessness, so that I may know Thee.
Tell me where I should turn that I may behold Thee; and I hope I shall do all Thou hast commanded me.
Look, I beseech Thee, upon Thy prodigal, O Lord, kindest Father; already have I been punished enough; long enough have I served Thine enemies whom Thou hast beneath Thy feet; long enough have I been the plaything of deceits. Receive me Thy servant as I flee from them, for they took me in a stranger when I was fleeing from Thee.
I realize I must return to Thee. Let Thy door be open to my knocking. Teach me how to come to Thee. Nothing else do I have but willingness. Naught else do I know save that fleeting and perishable things are to be spurned, certain and eternal things to be sought after. This I do, O Father, because this is all I know, but how I am to reach Thee I know not.
Do Thou inspire me, show me, give me what I need for my journey.
If it is by faith that they find Thee who have recourse to Thee, give me faith; if it is through virtue, give me virtue; if it is by knowledge, give knowledge to me. Grant me increase of faith, of hope, and of charity. O how marvelous and extraordinary is Thy goodness.

6.
To Thee do I appeal, and once more I beg of Thee the very means by which appeal is made to Thee. For, if Thou shouldst abandon us, we are lost; but Thou dost not abandon us, because Thou art the Supreme Good whom no one ever rightly sought and entirely failed to find. And, indeed, every one hast rightly sought Thee whom Thou hast enabled to seek Thee aright. Grant that I may seek Thee, my Father; save me from error. When I seek Thee, let me not find aught else but Thee, I beseech Thee, Father. But, if there is in me any vain desire, do Thou Thyself cleanse me and make me fit to look upon Thee.

With regard to the health of this my mortal body, so long as I am ignorant of its usefulness to me or to those whom I love, I entrust it to Thee, O wisest and best of Fathers, and I shall pray for it as Thou shalt in good time advise me. This only I shall ask of Thine extreme kindness, that Thou convertest me wholly to Thee, and that Thou allowest nothing to prevent me when I wend my way to Thee. I beg Thee to command, while I move and bear this my body, that I may be pure, generous, just, and prudent; that I may be a perfect lover and knower of Thy Wisdom; that I may be worthy of Thy dwelling place, and that I may in fact dwell in Thy most blessed kingdom. Amen. Amen.  (Source: Soliloquies 1.1−6; Migne PL 32 cols 869−872; tr. Gilligan pp. 343−350).

Bibliography

Augustini Hipponensis. Soliloquia (Soliloquiorum libri II). Migne Patrologia Latina vol. 32, cols. 869−904, Paris, 1841. Latin text.

Gilligan, Thomas F. St. Augustine: Soliloquies. In: Schopp, Ludwig (ed), Writings of St. Augustine, Vol. 1.  (Fathers of the Church, Vol. 5). CUA Press, 1947 (repr. 2008); pp. 333−426. English translation.

The Seven Virtues and Fifty Subvirtues of Medieval Christianity

Tree of Virtues from Speculum Virginum, Walters Art Museum Ms. W.72, fol. 26r.

BEGINNING in the 11th century we find in Western medieval manuscripts frequent portrayal of virtues and vices as tree diagrams.  These vary in details, but always include the four cardinal virtues of the Greek ethical tradition (Fortitude, Temperance,  Prudence and Justice) and the three theological virtues (Faith, Hope and Charity) of Christianity.  Each virtue is shown as a branch of the tree accompanied by seven sub-virtues (Charity may have up to ten sub-virtues, so we’ll say roughly fifty subvirtues in total) as leaves.  Often a parallel tree of the seven deadly vices and their sub-vices accompanies the Tree of Virtues.  Pride (superbia) is considered the common root of all vices, and Humility (humilitas) of all virtues.

The best-known of these figures appear in a 12th century work called the Speculum virginum (Mirror of Virgins), a devotional work intended for the spiritual formation of nuns and attributed to Conrad of Hirsau. (Mews, 2001 supplies a wealth of information on the Speculum virginum.)

The Speculum virginum shows the Tree of Virtue and Tree of Vices side by side on facing pages, as below:

Tree of Vices (left) and Tree of Virtues (right), Walters MS W.72, fols. 25v-26r

The trees in the Speculum virginum are based on an earlier work, De fructibus carnis et spiritus (On the Fruits of the Flesh and Spirit), sometimes attributed to Hugh of St. Victor, but possibly written by Conrad of Hirsau.  The Prologue of De fructibus introduces the two trees as follows:

SINCE every word of Divine Scripture aims to convince one of the good of humility, and to advise more attentively to decline the evil of pride, especially since on the one hand it is the beginning of salvation and life, and on the other of ruin, it seems necessary that the fruit and efficacy of humility and pride itself should be seen as a form visible to the devotee of virtues, to show … in so far one is the imitator of either species, of pride, or of humility, the quality of the fruits, and what reward one obtains from the execution of either. Therefore, we present two trees, different in fruit and growth, both rough and young, to each of the opposites, with vices or virtues attached to them; with a few definitions, from whose root the fruits proceed, and which tree is to be chosen from the two, attracted by the fruit, one can discern. Indeed pride is the root of the fruit of the flesh, humility the fruit of the spirit. This diversity, looking at the roots, shows the appetite of those who seek their fruits in moderation. Old Adam places himself in the castle of the wicked tree. The new Adam obtains the guidance of the spiritual results. If, therefore, the more excellent is the worse, that is, you have joined the good to the evil from the other side, which stands out in these, and which you have strongly understood to predominate. For when the qualities of the opposites are compared, a better estimation will soon be evident. Therefore, having looked at our roots, branches, and fruits, it is up to you to choose what you will.
(Source: De fructibus carnis et spiritus; Prologue; my translation)

At issue is a fundamental distinction between a soul organized by (in St. Paul’s terms; e.g., Romans 8) carnal mindedness or by spiritual mindedness.  St. Augustine’s elaboration of the distinction — love of the world and love of God — respectively came to virtually define ethical psychology in the Middle Ages. 

The evil tree on the left appears under the rubric Vetus Adam (Old Adam), or man unredeemed. Rooted in superbia (Pride),  its crowning fruit is luxuria (Sensory Pleasure) and it is prominently labeled Babylonia, or a city of confusion.

The good tree on the right appears under the rubric Novus Adam (New Adam), or a regenerated person in a state of grace. Rooted in Humilitas (Humility), its crowning fruit is Caritas (Charity) and it is labeled Hierosolyma (Jerusalem; city of peace). For more discussion on the significance of these trees, and especially how they relate to medieval Christianity’s central empahsis on Charity, see Robertson (1951).

Humility, we should note, is meant in the Christian sense as (1) an accurate recognition of one’s own sinfulness, frailty, ignorance and utter dependence on God, and (2) a subordination of one’s own will to God’s. Pride does not mean arrogance, conceit, or self-aggrandizement so much as self-will.

More than a simple device to assist in the memorization of ethical doctrine, these and the several other figures in the Speculum are conceptual tools.  They supply an interiorly retained image, with which one may visualize internal psychological processes and form productive associational structures, promoting integration of spiritual mindendess into ones personality.

The seven Virtues and their sub-virtues are listed below.  The selection of sub-virtues and their definitions appears influenced by a variety of patristic and biblical sources. The vices and subvices are described in a separate post here.

Update:  Since posting this I’ve added a related article, The Thirty Seraphic Virtues of the Middle Ages.

❧

PRUDENCE (prudentia)

• Fear of God (timor Domini)
• Promptness (alacritas)
• Counsel (consilium)
• Memory (memoria)
• Intelligence (intelligentia)
• Foresight (providentia)
• Deliberation (deliberatio)

JUSTICE (justitia )

• Law (lex)
• Strictness (severitas)
• Equity (aequitas)
• Correction (correctio; Correctio est erroris innati vel consuetudine introducti freno rationis inhibitio.)
• Honoring a pledge (jurisjurandi observatio; Jurisjurandi observatio est quae, plebescito civibus promulgato, transgressionem ejus temerariam arcet praestito juramento de conservatione illius perpetua.)
• Judgment (judicium)
• Truth (veritas)

COURAGE (fortitudo)

• Magnanimity (magnanimitas)
• Fidelity (fiducia)
• Tolerance (tolerantia)
• Rest (requies)
• Stability (stabilitas)
• Constancy (constantia)
• Perseverance (perseverantia)

TEMPERANCE (temperantia)

• Discernment (discretio)
• Obedience; acquiescence (morigeratio)
• Silence (taciturnitas)
• Fasting (jejunium)
• Sobriety (sobrietas)
• Physical penance; mortification of flesh (afflictio carnis; Afflictio carnis est per quem lascivae mentis seminaria castigatione discreta comprimuntur.)
• Contempt of the world (contemptus saeculi)

FAITH (fides)

• Pratice of religion (religio)
• Decorum (munditia; Munditia est consummata integritas utriusque hominis intuitu divini vel amoris vel timoris.)
• Obedience (obedientia)
• Chastity (castitas)
• Reverence (reverentia)
• Continence (continentia)
• Good desire (affectus)

HOPE (spes)

• Heavenly contemplation (contemplatio supernorum; Contemplatio supernorum est per sublevatae mentis jubilum mors carnalium affectuum).
• Joy (gaudium)
• Modesty (modestia)
• Confession (confessio)
• Patience (patientia)
• Sorrow for faults (compunctio)
• Longsuffering (longanimitas)

CHARITY (caritas)

• Forgiveness (gratia)
• Peace (pax)
• Piety (pietas)
• Mildness; leniency(mansuetudo)
• Liberality (liberalitas)
• Mercy (misericordia)
• Indulgence (indulgentia)
• Compassion (compassio)
• Benignity (benignitas)
• Concord (concordia)

❧

Bibliography

Goggin, Cheryl Gohdes. Copying manuscript illuminations: The Trees of Vices and Virtues. Visual Resources, 2004, 20:2-3, 179−198. https://doi.org/10.1080/0197376042000207552

Hugo de S. Victore (attr.). De fructibus carnis et spiritus. J. P. Migne. Patrologia Latina, Paris, 1854; cols. 997−1010 (rough diagrams of the Tree of Vices and Tree of Virtues appear at the end of the work).  Latin text is online: http://mlat.uzh.ch/?c=2&w=HuDeSVi.DeFrCaE

Katzenellenbogen, Adolf. Allegories of the Virtues and Vices in Medieval Art from Christian Times to the Thirteenth Century. Alan J. P. Crick (tr.). London: Warburg Institute, 1939.

Mews, Constant J. (ed.). Listen, Daughter: The “Speculum virginum” and the Formation of Religious Women in the Middle Ages. The New Middle Ages Series. Palgrave, 2001.  Pages 15−40.

Powell, Morgan. Gender, Reading, and Truth in the Twelfth Century: The Woman in the Mirror. Arc Humanities Press, 2020.

Robertson, D. W. The Doctrine of Charity in Mediaeval Literary Gardens: A Topical Approach through Symbolism and Allegory. Speculum, vol. 26, no. 1, 1951, pp. 24–49. Reprinted in: Robertson, Durant Waite. Essays in Medieval Culture. Princeton University Press, 1980 (repr. 2014); pp. 21−50.

Tucker, Shawn R. The Virtues and Vices in the Arts: A Sourcebook. Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2015.

Watson, Arthur. The Speculum Virginum with special reference to the Tree of Jesse. Speculum, vol. 3, no. 4, 1928, pp. 445–69.

Art: “Tree of Virtues” from Speculum Virginum, Walters Art Museum Ms. W.72, fol. 26r; early 13th century manuscript from the Cistercian abbey of Himmerode, Germany. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Virtues_Speculum_Virginum_W72_26r.jpg

 

What is True Charity?

Satyagraha

The other day a thought occurred to me which seems to clarify the meaning of Charity, as distinct from other related things like compassion and sympathy, generosity, kindness, etc. The definition: Charity is acting to love others for the sake of God.

At first glance this may strike you as prosaic – a mere formula, one in fact, found in traditional Christian teaching. Likely I had heard this formula someplace, yet it never quite stuck. This time, however, from my creative imagination, Muse, or call-it-what-you-will, there arose insight into the meaning, not merely the definition, of Charity.

To understand true Charity it helps to refer to Platonism.

A hallmark of Platonism is that God is identified as the source and very essence of Goodness. Plato’s defined God, in fact, as the Form or pattern of Goodness of which all individual good things partake, just as all triangles partake of…

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True Charity and Anamnesis

The other day a thought occurred to me which seems to clarify the meaning of Charity, as distinct from other related things like compassion and sympathy, generosity, kindness, etc. The definition: Charity is acting to love others for the sake of God.

At first glance this may strike you as prosaic – a mere formula, one in fact, found in traditional Christian teaching. Likely I had heard this formula someplace, yet it never quite stuck. This time, however, from my creative imagination, Muse, or call-it-what-you-will, there arose insight into the meaning, not merely the definition, of Charity.

To understand true Charity it helps to refer to Platonism.

A hallmark of Platonism is that God is identified as the source and very essence of Goodness. Plato’s defined God, in fact, as the Form or pattern of Goodness of which all individual good things partake, just as all triangles partake of the Form of a triangle. (This conceptual principle is a powerful and distinct asset to those who try to understand who or what God is – but that is a topic to take up another time.)

With this innovation, our definition becomes “Charity is the doing of good to others for the sake of the Good.”

How does this help? One way is with respect to the Platonic principle known as the unity of virtues. Because all virtues, and indeed all good things, are instances of the Good, a corollary is that pure virtue of any kind, i.e., pure Truth, pure Beauty, pure Justice, etc., must be compatible with every other pure virtue. One cannot, for example, act in a way that affirms Truth yet contradicts Justice or Beauty. This principle supplies a means by which we may test whether a given act is true Charity: the act must awaken in us an awareness of Goodness generally; contemplating or performing the proposed act should leave our mind ‘basking’ in the glow of the train of all divine virtues.

This has some very practical implications for modern social activism. It means that one cannot be motivated by Charity and yet act in a contentious way. Suppose a person is angry that poor people do not have adequate health care. This is certainly an important concern. But if this concern takes the form of hateful denunciation of other people – the greedy rich, selfish Republicans, whoever – then it is not a form of Charity. Because anger is not consistent, in fact it is incompatible, with the Virtues. This helps us see why St. Paul defined Charity as he did: Charity “charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil.” (1 Corinthians 13 4–5)

The Platonic perspective also reveals four further attributes of Charity. First, it is it’s own reward. Plato had a name for that kind of experience where we suddenly we regain our ability to see truth: who we are, what really matters, what brings us happiness. He called it anamnesis, literally unforgetting (an = un, amnesis = forgetting). True Charity should have the quality of anamnesis: it realigns our mind such that we are again in touch with our true nature; we become properly oriented to ourselves, other people, Nature, and God.

Clearly this is much different from, say, sending money in a perfunctory way to a “charity” like Greenpeace. Sometimes such actions are performed out of a sense of mechanical duty. Other times they may be motivated by sentimentality – as when one feels sorrow at the plight of abused animals. There is nothing wrong with such actions. They are commendable, in fact, and may well constitute virtues in their own right; our only point here is Charity is something distinct and greater than these things, and to lose sight of the distinction is to risk losing sight of the full meaning and significance of Charity.

Second, the proposed definition shows how Charity is ultimately connected with our own salvation (understood in a broad, nondenominational, psychological sense). The truth is that, however much we may believe or protest otherwise, our ultimate instinctive concern is not with others, but for ourselves. Said another way, our first order of business is to help ourselves. History is full of examples of people who neglected their own moral development for the sake of busying themselves with other people’s problems. To such as these one might well say, “Physician, heal thyself,” or “For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” (Matthew16:26) We must be constantly aware, in whatever we think or do, or our own need of salvation in this broad sense. This is the meaning of humility. The moment we lose sight of our immense proclivity for error, much of which goes under the name of ‘egoism’, then our ego takes over and all manner of mischief is liable to occur. Unless God or the Good is in the picture, any action, even giving a million dollars to help others, will have a strong egoistic component.

Third, our Platonic perspective helps shows how Charity is contagious. If you act towards another with true Charity, the recipient knows, in their own soul, that your act is accompanied by your anamnesis. And since anamnesis always engenders feelings like trust, love, and hope, the person knows that you have gained a reward greater than any human being could give you.

This, in turn, produces a sympathetic anamnesis in the recipient. It reawakens in them a remembrance of what the important, the finer things in life are. And this is cause for them to affirm life and thank God – not so much for whatever charitable benefit they received, but because God made such a world where Charity itself exists. It may literally restore the other’s faith in humanity. Moreover, the recipient is presented with the fact that they too have the ability to show Charity to others. A quality of a truly Charitable act, then, is that it leaves the recipient in a frame of mind eager to show Charity to others. When you act with Charity to others, then, often more important than the physical gift to the other is the psychological gift.

Finally, the Platonic perspective helps us to see that Charity is different from other forms of helping, giving, sharing, etc., in terms of epistemology. True Charity, because it is consciously aligned with God and the Good, opens the mind to an influx of higher thoughts – the mode of knowledge Plato called noesis. This is distinct from our usual form of rationalistic thinking, called dianoia, or reasoning. Thus, a characteristic of true Charity is that it is frequently motivated by inspiration, often more an act of spontaneous creativity than cold calculation. Again, this is not to say that we should avoid applying our logical minds to helping others – only that Charity is something distinct from rationality alone.