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St. Bernard – Love is the Soul’s Greatness

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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. 

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.

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.

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

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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.”

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.

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.

St. Bernard on Mystical Ecstasy

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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.

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.

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.

St. Bernard of Clairvaux: On the Four Kinds of Contemplation

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IN the last chapter (Book 5, Chapter 14) of On Consideration (De consideratione), St. Bernard describes four kinds of contemplation. This continues the discussion of Chapter 13, which begins, “What is God? Length, breadth, height, and depth” (Eph. 3:17−19).  There he says:

And as our business is still to seek Him, let us for the present, inasmuch as we are weak and faint, and sorely need such a conveyance, let us mount this four-horse chariot, if haply we may thus lay hold of that for which we have been laid hold of, that is to say, the plan and working of the vehicle itself. For this admonition have we from the charioteer himself, who was the first to show us the chariot — that we strive to comprehend with all saints what is the length, and breadth, and height, and depth [Eph. iii, 18].

As he explains, God’s length is eternity, His breadth is love, His height is power and majesty, and His depth is wisdom.

Book 5 of On Consideration contains much valuable discussion on contemplation and ranks among St. Bernards finest writings.

OBSERVE now that to these four attributes of God, there correspond as many different kinds of contemplation.

The first and loftiest contemplation is admiration of the Divine Majesty. This requires a purified soul, which, as being free from vices and unburdened of sin, it may easily lift up to things supernal, yea, and sometimes hold suspended — even though but for a short space — in a very transport and ecstasy of delighted wonder.

The second must attend the first, for it beholds the judgements of God. It may violently shock the beholder with the fearful vision, but it puts vice to flight, firmly bases virtue, initiates in wisdom, preserves humility. For humility is a good sound foundation of the virtues. If humility, forsooth, be insecure, the whole structure of the virtues is nothing but a ruin.

The third species of contemplation occupies itself, or rather takes its repose, in the memory of the divine benefits; and, lest we should remain ungrateful, it not only represents to our minds the favours we have received, but also inspires us with love for our Benefactor. It is of souls devoted to this that the Psalmist says, They shall publish the memory of the abundance of Thy sweetness (Ps. cxliv. 7).

The fourth kind, forgetting the things that are behind (Philip. iii. 13), rests only in the expectation of the promises; and as this is nothing else but a meditation on eternity — inasmuch as the things promised are eternal — it at the same time nourishes patience and gives us the strength required for perseverance.

It is now easy, as I think, to correlate these four kinds of contemplation with the four attributes mentioned by the Apostle: for by meditation on the promises we attain to Length, by recollection of the divine benefits we comprehend Breadth; the contemplation of God’s Majesty brings us to Height, and  we reach Depth by pondering His judgments.

We must still go on seeking Him Who has not yet been sufficiently found and Who can never be too much sought. But perhaps it will be more becoming to seek Him, yea, and more easy to find Him, by fervent prayer than by argumentation. Therefore let me now put an end to the book, although not to the seeking.

Source: A priest of Mount Melleray. St. Bernard’s Treatise on Consideration. Dublin, 1921; pp. 197−198.  Latin: De consideratione (Bernardus Claraevallensis), J. P. Migne, Patrologia Latina 182: 727A−0808A, Paris, 1854.

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Written by John Uebersax

September 10, 2022 at 2:13 am

Jean Gerson’s Mountain of Contemplation

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Illumination, Master of Cardinal of Bourbon,  Livre de la contemplation,  MS FR 1847, KBR

THE PURPOSE of this post is to describe and recommend a short devotional work, the Mountain of Contemplation (Montaigne de contemplation; 1400) by the French theologian and contemplative, Jean Gerson (1363–1429).  This work is not well known, but very valuable and well worth consideration as an addition to ones reading list.

Jean Gerson is best known as a theologian, educational reformer (a Chancellor of the University of Paris) and Church reformer (e.g., instrumental in resolving the multiple claims to the papacy during the Great Schism). The last earned him the enmity of powerful French political officials, and for a while he was forced into exile.  Gerson was far from a stuffy Canon Law authority and intellectual. He championed the development of spirituality amongst the laity and denounced the intellectual pretensions of academics.

This authentic pietistic interest is reflected in the Mountain of Contemplation, which he wrote as a guide to contemplative life for two of his sisters. Unlike most of his works, written in Latin, this was composed in vernacular French.  It has a warm unpretentious style, full of common sense advice, and abounds in practical analogies taken from ordinary life.

The work takes the form of 45 short sections, numbered and titled, followed by an appendix with 11 rules of conduct. I will try within my limited ability to supply a short summary below.  However I can’t do justice to this helpful and charming work and would rather encourage people to read the whole thing — which, as I say, is not very long.

The guiding image Gerson uses is that of ascending a mountain. Three stages of the ascent are identified, which he calls (1) humble penitence, (2) silence and solitude, and (3) strong perseverance.  This simple three-fold division is very useful because it allows him considerable flexibility in discussing each stage.

The following is a short paraphrase/summary.

Summary

Contemplative life has both degrees and parts. The parts involve affect, on the one hand, and knowledge on the other.  The way of knowledge seeks rational understanding and explanations of the nature of God and his works. This is useful because (1) it can find new truths, (2) it can make truths explicit and teachable; (3) it permits refutation of false or heretical beliefs.  Nevertheless, the way of affect is higher still, and reaches a wisdom greater than knowledge.  An analogy can be drawn with honey:  it’s one thing to analyze the physical properties of honey, and quite another to taste and savor the goodness of its flavor. Affective contemplation, then, is like tasting God.  It supplies ‘savory wisdom’ by means of direct experience (§§ 1−5).

The contemplative life is open to ordinary people as well as theologians. The main requirements are deep-rooted faith and belief in God and in His power, wisdom, goodness and plan for our redemption. The end of contemplative life is love of God.  In order to attain this, the contemplative will want to give up all unnecessary other pursuits and occupations (§§ 6−10).

Opposing our love of God is our love of the world, and the latter must be removed if we are to make spiritual progress.  The adverse effects of love of the world are illustrated by several analogies, including a bird that is snared, one encaged, mortar that clings to the feet of the soul and prevents ascent, a chain or leash, an evil queen who founds a city of confusion, and the clamorous household of a mad woman (§ 11).

Love of the world is very hard — much more than most people realize — to give up. Therefore God assists us in many ways, both by means of gifts and by adversity. Gifts may include direct inspirations and inner motions of the soul, angelic assistance, and other people who supply good teaching and instruction. Forms of instructive adversity may include illness, poverty and war. Blessings we may provide for ourselves include reading about the lives of saints, consciously dedicating ourselves to good, and meditating on salvation.  Every day it is within our power to provide such an experience (§§ 12−15).

At this point he states the three stages of the journey: humble penitence, secrecy of place and silence, and strong perseverance.  Humble penitence seeks to mortify worldly love.  Gerson does not dwell on this topic, leaving its details more or less implicit, but he does mention such traditional penitential practices for chastising the flesh as fasting, lack of sleep, abstinence, tears, and manual labor.  The last leads to a discussion of the active versus contemplative life.  One should not seek the latter without some experience in the former.  The active life involves difficulties and adversities, the overcoming of which will aid us. Like Jacob, we must first marry Leah (active life) before winning as our bride Rachel (contemplative life). Regardless, we will always need to manifest both the qualities of Martha (active life) and Mary (contemplative life), but in different relative degrees.

Love of God is the aim of contemplative life. Humble penitence helps to produce a healthy contempt for worldly and strong yearning for heavenly things. Consider the example of people obsessed with earthly loves (e.g., for money, fame or carnality). We should love God with this much single-minded devotion, and consider every worldly thing in comparison like a dream, a fable, a nonentity (§§ 16−20).

The second level of contemplative ascent consists of stillness and privacy by which means one returns to oneself.  This retreat into a secret place or silence can be understood both in a physical and mental sense. In the exterior sense, one may seek privacy in a secluded place — woods, forest, desert, fields, hidden parts of churches, or merely a hidden part of ones own domicile.  For this preferences differ, and one cannot give a general rule. Bodily posture, including kneeling, sitting and lying down, may contribute to clarity of thought (§§ 21−25).

Three specious criticisms are commonly raised against lay people who follow a contemplative life.  These are (1) that such a person does good only for herself and not others, (2) she wants to know too much and reaches too high; and (3) in the end it only leads to disappointment, madness and melancholy.  These objections are easily refuted (§§ 26−29).

As he prepares to consider the highest stage, he discusses generally the nature and fruits of contemplation. He reaffirms the necessity of grace for spiritual progress. In contemplation the soul experiences elevation, unity and simplicity. To reach this condition involves a combination of powerful and holy meditation, and burning love.  The soul suspends other operations, wholly concentrated and absorbed, oblivious to all else, like painters, or as in a famous story about Archimedes.

Here follows a short summary of Richard of St. Victor’s multidimensional taxonomy of contemplative experience as given in his work, The Mystical Ark.  There Richard describes six levels, three modes, and three qualities of contemplation.

Of the levels, two are in the imagination, two in the reason (ratio), and two in the intelligence (intellectus). The three modes of experience are enlargement (dilatatio mentis), ascent (sublevatio mentis) and cutting off (alienatio mentis) of conscious awareness.  The three qualities of contemplative experience are a sense of wonder, of deep devotion, and of spiritual enjoyment or comfort. Gerson refers readers to Richard for more details (§§ 30−32).

We now proceed to consider the third level of strong perseverance, the summer to which the preceding levels are like winter and spring, respectively, or the noon to which they are like night and morning. Here the soul is consumed in its quest for union with the divine. Nothing remains for this person but to serve and love God, to think and to speak of Him. The soul has taken root again in the good earth and bears fruit. Chastisements are seen as signs of God’s love, good and necessary (§ 33).

Common obstacles and hindrances that occur at this point are discussed. Several are suggested by the analogy to climbing a physical mountain: some people give up the climb too easily, stopping and descending as soon as they meet with difficulty. Others climb to impatiently, trying to master the summit without beginning at the base and the middle.  The base is the humble consideration of one’s sins and faults. Still others carry too weighty a burden in the form of worldly occupation and the great amount of thought one puts into it. Others believe that they already are at the summit when they are not. Many neglect to always hold their right hand out to the One who must pull them up from above. Our guide is God’s grace.

Other common hindrances include mortifying ones body too much, reading too much (in reading one should seek devotion more than acquisition of knowledge), and frequently jumping from one path to another, instead of staying on a single course (§§ 34−36).

There is diversity in the methods employed and experiences in this phase, as illustrated in the lives of such saints as Saint Augustine, St. Gregory the Great, St. Jerome and St. Bernard (§§ 37−38).

Another example (probably from his own experience) is of a man who, upon experiencing spiritual dryness, resolved to sit at the foot of a tree for several hours each day, praying to and imploring the intercession of angels and many saints, one by one.  While difficult at first, before long the practice became easier, and eventually he could enter a contemplative state with less effort (§ 39).

Continuing with the same theme, he relates an idea of William of Auxerre (c.1145–1231): that we should follow the example of paupers, pilgrims, prisoners or alms seekers — and earnestly and humbly plead for help from God, angels and saints. No books will serve one so well as strong perseverance.  Other helpful methods include remembrance of ones own death, and the great spiritual needs of friends who must likewise face death.  Let us have pity and mercy on ourselves and others (§§ 40−42).

By way of summary, a helpful analogy is proposed.  Imagine a sea filled with all kinds of people sailing hither and thither on various ships, mostly ending in wrecks.  On the shore a person watches, detached, from a very high rock. The rock has three levels, which correspond to faith, hope and charity.  This is the rock of contemplation, and the three theological virtues correspond to the aforementioned levels of penitence, withdrawal, and strong perseverance.  Those who endure may reach no end of beautiful acts of contemplation.  One may know and sense God ineffably, as in grasping a sweetness, a fullness, a taste, a melody (§§ 43−44).

Contemplation is something vast and abundant, with countless forms of experience. In the end we may say that God’s grace can be especially present to the soul in three ways:

1. By justification, which cannot be felt but which makes the soul pleasing to God.

2. By consolations and spiritual joys, such as:

a. A feeling of melting into some sweetness;

b. A wondrous certitude, wherein one is greatly displeased with oneself and takes ones sole pleasure in God;

c. A sense of expansion of the heart or intelligence that finds God to be so excellent and infinitely majestic, all on Earth seems as nothing except as it reveals God’s presence;

d. A spiritual, sober intoxication causing one to praise God and see everything as full of God’s glory and praise (Ps 19:1; Ps 96:11−12; Ps 150:6) .

3. Ecstatic union such as St. Paul experienced (2 Cor 12:2−4), concerning which Gerson considers himself not worthy to discuss (§§ 45).

Discussion

As a practical work I enjoyed Mountain of Contemplation very much.  It whets my appetite to read his more technical On Mystical Theology, as well as another vernacular piece, On Spiritual Begging (Mendicité spirituelle).

I’d also like to learn more about his proposed reforms to theological education.  Gerson maintained that universities’ over-emphasis on rationalism and book-learning contribute to pride and elitism in the academic ranks. Clerical education, he believed, also needs to cultivate piety, humility and personal holiness.  Clearly there are parallels here with modern universities.

I also found the work helpful in supplying perspective on the historical relationship between affective and rational forms of Christian mysticism. In St. Augustine these two strands are inseparable and mutually reinforcing. Augustine was a Platonist, and Platonism is rational mysticism par excellence. For the Platonist, Intellect is no hindrance to affect. Rather, the more we develop our Intellect, the more we can understand God’s works in the world, giving greater cause to love and praise Him.  Moreover, the more we experience the greatness of human Intellect and its seemingly unlimited capacity, the more cause we have for gratitude to, awe of, and love for God.

Then why did affective and rational mysticism become separated?  Did it simply happen when the works of Pseudo-Dionysius — for whom affective and apophatic mysticism dominate — reached the West?  But in that case, why were Richard of St. Victor and St. Bonaventure able to maintain a fully integral mysticism, combining affective and rational components, in the 13th century?  These two influential writers successfully blended the Augustinian and Dionysian traditions.

Gerson may supply us with a clue: that as the universities grew to dominate theology, integral spirituality — one combining affect and intellect — gave way to a dry, radical rationalism.  In seeming to emphasize affect, Gerson is not so much dismissing the intellectual component of mysticism (indeed, he plainly has a high opinion of Richard of St. Victor and St. Bonaventure), as much as countering the radical rationalism of the universities.  At the same time Gerson is trying to democratize contemplation and mystical theology by stressing that it is available to all, not just the educated elite, and even to illiterate people. These considerations may have caused him to overstate the case for affectivity in Mountain of Contemplation.

Regardless, it does appear that about this time the paths of affective and rational mysticism, which had already begun to diverge, now did so more starkly and permanently.  After this we see a flourishing of affective mysticism (the trend continues today in the form of  ‘centering prayer’), yet few good examples of a rational or fully integral approach (possible exceptions might be Cambridge Platonism, Neothomism and American Transcendentalism).

However today the average education is much higher than it was in the Middle Ages.  It therefore makes less sense to argue that a large section of the population cannot understand or profit from the intellectual component of Christian mysticism, and can only operate at the level of  ‘simple faith.’  Therefore an integral mysticism that combines affective and intellectual parts (while still allowing for the ultimate primacy of the former — something on which all Christian mystics agree) is arguably more broadly appropriate.

We might question his comments about using fasts, vigils and other physical ascetical practices to develop humble penitence. These seem not only antiquated, but unnecessary and counterproductive. Is it not enough to look honestly within ones own breast to bring one to abject penitence? To, like Socrates, see a multitudinous beast lurking within (Plato, Republic 8)? Will not any honest person say with St. Paul, O wretched man that I am! (Rom 7: 24a) and arrive at deep humility? A sober appraisal of the world’s pomp and vanity reveals clearly enough the necessity of looking to God alone. Beyond these it’s unclear what physical mortification of the flesh accomplishes, except to tax strength and produce its own kind of pride. Gerson does, however, explicitly warm against excess here.

Bibliography

Glorieux, Palémon (ed.). Jean Gerson, Oeuvres Complètes. 10 vols. (Paris, 1960–1973); volume 7.

Combes, André. Ioannis Carlerii de Gerson de Mystica Theologia (Lugano, Switzerland: Thesaurus Mundi, 1958).

Combes, André. Théologie Mystique de Gerson: Profil de son évolution. Paris, 1963−1964.

McGuire, Brian Patrick (tr.). Jean Gerson: Early Works. Classics of Western Spirituality. Paulist Press, 1998; Mountain of Contemplation, pp. 75−127.
https://books.google.com/?id=Ed2Mzyn9WtsC&pg=PA75

McGuire, Brian Patrick (ed.). A Companion to Jean Gerson. Brill, 2006.

Severin, Renée M. Teaching Contemplation: The Role of Humility and Dialogue in Jean Gerson’s Mystical Works. Mystics Quarterly 32.1/2 (2006): 1−34.

Zinn, Grover A. (tr.). Richard of St. Victor: The Twelve Patriarchs, The Mystical Ark and Book Three of The Trinity. Classics of Western Spirituality. Paulist Press, 1979.

Art:  Master of the Cardinal de Bourbon.  Illuminations, Le secret parlement de l’homme contemplatif à son âme = Livre de la mendicité spirituelle; Livre de la contemplation; [Ars moriendi]. 1475? Bibliotheque Nationale de Belgique (KBR) MS FR 1847. https://belgica.kbr.be/BELGICA/doc/SYRACUSE/16972996/

Preface to Traherne

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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

Contemplative Christianity from the 9th Through 12th Centuries: Latin West

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THIS simple timeline highlights the gap in Christian theology between Eriugena (9th century) and the flourishing in the 11th and 12th centuries. The intervening period was the late Dark Age – when Europe was beset by invading Huns, Vikings and Moors. Contemplation was a topic of major concern for virtually all of these figures.

Legend:  Green = Benedictine; Orange = Carthusian; Dark blue = Augustinian; Light blue = Other.  (Bernard of Clairvaux and William of St. Thierry later became Cistercians.)

Another gap occurred between Boethius (477–524 AD) and Eriugena in the early Dark Ages. Eriugena was part of the brief oasis of civilization called the Carolingian Renaissance (named after Charlemagne).

In response to a request, here is the timeline extended back to Boethius:

(click image to view in high resolution)

Update:  These were early efforts and experiments, and need revising. There really were more figures of note from 700 to 1000 AD than these figures suggest.

The following timeline of major figures in contemplative Christianity from the 1000 to 1400 AD, more recent, is of better quality.

Recommended Readings

Egan, Harvey D. An Anthology of Christian Mysticism. Liturgical Press, 1991.

McGinn, Bernard. The Growth of Mysticism: Gregory the Great Through the 12th Century. (Vol. 2 of B. McGinn, The Presence of God: A History of Western Christian Mysticism.) New York: Crossroad, 1994.

St. Bernard – On the search for wisdom

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From a sermon by Saint Bernard, abbot

On the search for wisdom

Let us work for the food which does not perish – our salvation. Let us work in the vineyard of the Lord to earn our daily wage in the wisdom which says: Those who work in me will not sin. Christ tells us: The field is the world. Let us work in it and dig up wisdom, its hidden treasure, a treasure we all look for and want to obtain.

  If you are looking for it, really look. Be converted and come. Converted from what? From your own wilfulness. “But,” you may say, “if I do not find wisdom in my own will, where shall I find it? My soul eagerly desires it. And I will not be satisfied when I find it, if it is not a generous amount, a full measure, overflowing into my hands.” You are right, for blessed is the man who finds wisdom and is full of prudence.

  Look for wisdom while it can still be found. Call for it while it is near. Do you want to know how near it is? The word is near you, in your heart and on your lips, provided that you seek it honestly. Insofar as you find wisdom in your heart, prudence will flow from your lips, but be careful that it flows from and not away from them, or that you do not vomit it up. If you have found wisdom, you have found honey. But do not eat so much that you become too full and bring it all up. Eat so that you are always hungry. Wisdom says: Those who eat me continue to hunger. Do not think you have too much of it, but do not eat too much or you will throw it up. If you do, what you seem to have will be taken away from you, because you gave up searching too soon. While wisdom is near and while it can be found, look for it and ask for its help. Solomon says: A man who eats too much honey does himself no good; similarly, the man who seeks his own glorification will be crushed by that same renown.

  Happy is the man who has found wisdom. Even more happy is the man who lives in wisdom, for he perceives its abundance. There are three ways for wisdom or prudence to abound in you: if you confess your sins, if you give thanks and praise, and if your speech is edifying. Man believes with his heart and so he is justified. He confesses with his lips and so he is saved. In the beginning of his speech the just man is his own accuser, next he gives glory to God, and thirdly, if his wisdom extends that far, he edifies his neighbour.

via Universalis: Office of Readings.

Written by John Uebersax

February 16, 2009 at 7:49 am

Posted in St Bernard, Wisdom

On the Stages of Contemplation − St Bernard of Clairvaux

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On the Stages of Contemplation

From a sermon by St Bernard of Clairvaux:

I will stand upon my watch, and set me upon the tower, and will watch to see what he will say unto me. (Habakkuk 2:1, KJV)

LET US take our stand on the tower, leaning with all our strength on Christ, the most solid rock, as it is written: He has set my feet on a rock, he has guided my steps. Thus firmly established, let us begin to contemplate, to see what he is saying to us and what reply we ought to make to him.

The first stage of contemplation, my dear brothers, is to consider constantly what God wants, what is pleasing to him, and what is acceptable in his eyes. We all offend in many things; our strength cannot match the rightness of God’s will and cannot be joined to it or made to fit with it. So let us humble ourselves under the powerful hand of the most high God and make an effort to show ourselves unworthy before his merciful gaze, saying Heal me, Lord, and I shall be healed; save me and I shall be saved. And again, Lord, have mercy on me; heal my soul because I have sinned against you.

Once the eye of the soul has been purified by such considerations, we no longer abide within our spirit in a sense of sorrow, but abide rather in the Spirit of God with great delight. No longer do we consider what is the will of God for us, but rather what it is in itself.

For our life is in his will. Thus we are convinced that what is according to his will is in every way better for us, and more fitting. And so, if we are concerned to preserve the life of our soul, we must be equally concerned to deviate as little as possible from his will.

Thus having made some progress in our spiritual exercise under the guidance of the Spirit who gazes into the deep things of God, let us reflect how gracious the Lord is and how good he is in himself. Let us join the Prophet in praying that we may see the Lord’s will and frequent not our own hearts but the Lord’s temple; and let us also say, My soul is humbled within me, therefore I shall be mindful of you.

These two stages sum up the whole of the spiritual life: when we contemplate ourselves we are troubled, and our sadness saves us and brings us to contemplate God; that contemplation in turn gives us the consolation of the joy of the Holy Spirit. Contemplating ourselves brings fear and humility; contemplating God brings us hope and love.

Source: A sermon by St. Bernard of Clairvaux (Sermo 5 [On the words of Habakkuk 2:1] 4–5. Opera omnia, Edit. Cisterc. 6, 1 [1970], 103–4), as quoted in the Roman Catholic Office of Readings for Wednesday of the 23rd week in Ordinary Time.

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Comments:

  • Contemplation is a fundamental part of Christian life
  • Contemplation is a mental state, related to prayer
  • It is a non-discursive intellectual state, by which one acquires direct, intuitive, experiential knowledge
  • Contemplation is developed by stages
  • The process can be understood as a kind of cognitive training, an acquisition of a superior system of deploying attention — away from mundane thoughts: distractions, fantasies, worries, schemes, idle imaginings; and towards those things for which the mind is intended: seeking to do God’s will, seeking to better know God, and, in direct consequence of the better knowledge, gaining love for God.

In Platonic fashion, contemplation is presented as a kind of ascent.  First, St. Bernard tells us, we are to acquire the habit of seeking to know what God wants. This, as many saints tell us, is difficult.  Even when one reaches the point of being able to frequently direct attention to consideration of God’s will for a particular circumstance, then one frequently experiences periods of frustration or sadness at not knowing what that will intends.  That is, sometimes God’s will seems apparent, but at other times it does not.  St Bernard refers to this reaction as the abiding within our spirit a sense of sorrow.

The stage beyond this, however, is to consider not simply what it is God wants, but what God’s will is in itself.  That is a most deep and rewarding subject for contemplation, since all Creation is, in a basic sense, is brought into being by and reflects God’s will.

From this we may proceed even further to consider the very Goodness of God.

Again, the parallels to Platonic contemplative ascent seem clear.

Writing about the same time as St Bernard, and in basically the same milieu, Richard of St. Victor wrote in greater detail on the stages of contemplation.  From the Catholic Encyclopedia (1913) article on Richard of St. Victor:

He carries on the mystical doctrine of Hugo [of St. Victor], in a somewhat more detailed scheme, in which the successive stages of contemplation are described. These are six im number, divided equally among the three powers of the soul-the imagination, the reason, and the intelligence, and ascending from the contemplation of the visible things of creation to the rapture in which the soul is carried “beyond itself” into the Divine Presence, by the three final stages of “Dilatio, sublevatio, alienatio”. This schematic arrangement of contemplative soul-states is substantially adopted by [Jean] Gerson in his more systematic treatise on mystical theology, who, however, makes the important reservation that the distinction between reason and intelligence is to be understood as functional and not real.

Related posts

On the Six Levels of Contemplation – Richard of Saint-Victor
Richard of St. Victor: The Ark of the Covenant as an Allegory for Contemplation
St. Bonaventure: Contemplation of Creation’s Sevenfold Splendor
Richard of Saint-Victor: On the Movements of Contemplation
Richard of St. Victor: Allegorical Meaning of Jacob’s Wives and Children

Written by John Uebersax

September 10, 2008 at 5:04 pm