Jean Gerson’s Mountain of Contemplation

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.

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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/

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The Thirty Seraphic Virtues of the Middle Ages

British Library, MS Arundel 83-1, The Howard Psalter, fol. 5v, ca. 1310–20; for other versions of the figure, see here.

THE short work, On the Six Wings of the Cherubim (De sex alis cherubim) enjoyed great popularity in monastic communities during the 12th and 13th centuries. Its authorship is a little confusing. The first part seems to be an edited excerpt from Hugh of St. Victor’s (c. 1096−1141) work, On the Moral Ark of Noah (De arca Noe morali). The second part is by an anonymous author. An earlier attribution of the entire work to Alan of Lille (d. 1203) is incorrect. Marie-Therese d’Alverny (1980) suggested the Cistercian, Clement of Llanthony, as a possible source, but this is highly speculative.

The second part is what interests us. It discusses not cherubim, but the six wings of the seraphim in Isaiah 6:2. Each wing corresponds to a higher-order virtue, and each wing has five feathers, corresponding to specific virtues. The aim is to summarize in a simple form the life of Christian perfection. The work is interesting in its own right, but also in that it set the stage, so to speak, for major philosophical and devotional works by Richard of St. Victor (d. 1173; The Mystical Ark or Benjamin Major) and St. Bonaventure (1221–1274; The Soul’s Journey into God), both of whom use the image of a six winged seraphim as a vehicle of examining contemplative ascent to God.

Many medieval manuscripts of On the Six Wings include annotated diagrams of the six-winged angel. Sometimes the figure appears without the accompanying text. In the latter case, artists varied considerably in the virtues named.

A summary of the wings and feathers from On the Six Wings is supplied below. Readers are referred to the English translations of Bridget Balint and of Steven Chase.  The Latin text is found Migne PL 210:267A−280C.

CONFESSION (confessio)

Mournful avowal of one’s own weakness, ignorance, and malice

1. Truth (veritas); sincerity of confession.
2. Wholeness (integritas); a confession should be complete, not shortened or divided
3. Steadfastness (furmitas); a confession should be steadfast and firm
4. Humility (humilitas); a person making confession should have a humble mind, humble tongue, and humble aspect
5. Simplicity (simplicitas); one should reproach ones weakness, ignorance, and wickedness, defending nothing, excusing nothing, minimizing nothing.

REPARATION (satisfaccio)

1. Renunciation of sin (peccati abrenuntiatio)
2. Outpouring of tears (lacrymarum effusio)
3. Mortification of the flesh (carnis maceratio)
4. Almsgiving (eleemosynarum largiti)
5. Devotion of prayer (orationis devotio)

III. PURIFICATION OF THE FLESH (munditia or purita carnis)

1. Modesty of gaze (visus pudicitia); shuts out wantonness, lest the eye look desiring on another person
2. Chastity of hearing (auditus castimonia); do not listen to an insulting voice, words of those who curse and blaspheme, false accusations, lies or provocations
3. Decorousness of scent (olfactus modestia); seeks the aroma of goodness by works of mercy.
4. Temperance in eating (gustus temperantia)
5. Sanctity of touch (tactus sanctimonia)

PURITY OF MIND (puritas mentis)

1. Decorous and proper emotion (affectus sinceri rectitudo)
2. Delight of the mind in the Lord (mentis in Domino delectati); Delight thyself also in the LORD; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. (Psalm 37:4); contemplation engenders and shapes this feather.
3. Pure and well-ordered thought (munda etordinata cogitatio)
4. Holiness of will (voluntatis sanctitudo)
5. Sound and pure intention (simplex et pura intentio)

LOVE OF NEIGHBOR (dilectio proximi)

1. Avoid injury to others by word or deed (nulli nocere verbo vel opere)
2. Do good in every word and deed (omnibus prodesse, verbo et opere)
3. Liberality (verae liberalitatis fortitudine); be magnanimous and generous, not niggardly.
4. Lay aside soul for brethren (animam profratre ponere); Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. (John 15: 13)
5. Persevere in fraternal love (in his perseverare)

LOVE OF GOD (dilectio Dei)

1. Long for and strive after nothing other than God (aliud quam Deum non concupiscit)
2. Distributes this love actively among brothers, sisters, and the world for the sake of God (propter Deum sua distribuit)
3. Reserve nothing for themselves but relinquish all things in God’s name (propter Deum nihil sibi reservat,sed omnia relinquit)
4. Deny self for God alone (propter Deum se ipsum abnegat)
5. Persevere in love of God (in his perseverat)

Readings

Anonymous. De sex alis cherubim. Attr. Alan of Lille. PL 210:265A−280C. Paris: J. P. Migne, 1855. Latin text.

Balint, Bridget (tr.). The Seraph’s Six Wings. In: Mary Carruthers and Jan M. Ziolkowski, The Medieval Craft of Memory, University of Pennsylvania, 2002, pp. 83−102.

Carruthers, Mary J. Ars oblivionalis, ars inveniendi: the cherub figure and the arts of memory. Gesta, vol. 48, no. 2, 2009, pp. 99–117.

Carruthers, Mary J. Clan Carruthers — clan crest — seraph or cherub. Clan Carruthers International website. 27 May 2020.

Chase, Steven (tr.). De sex alis cherubim (On the Six Wings of the Cherubim). In: Steven Chase (ed.), Angelic Spirituality: Medieval Perspectives on the Ways of Angels, Paulist Press, 2002; pp. 121−145.

Cousins, Ewert H. (ed.). Bonaventure: The Soul’s Journey into God. Paulist Press, 1978.

d’Alverny, M-T. Alain de Lille: problèmes d’attribution. In: eds. H. Roussel and F. Suard, Alain de Lille, Gautier de Châtillon, Jakemart Giélée et leur temps, Lille, 1980, pp. 27–46.

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

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Thomas Gallus: Interior Angelic Hierarchies and More

Francesco Botticini, The Assumption of the Virgin (c. 1475; detail)

THOMAS GALLUS (c.1200−1246; Thomas of Vercelli, Thomas of St. Victor) studied at the Abbey of Saint Victor in Paris before co-founding a monastery in Vercelli, Italy. Strangely overlooked today (but that is changing), his ideas are valuable and important for the study of the history of mysticism and in the West, and, potentially, for modern Christian spirituality. His accomplishments include following:

Gallus authored glosses, summaries and commentaries of the works of Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite.  Ps.-Dionysius introduced the concept of  apophatic mysticism: the notion that God is ultimately unknowable, and that the supreme mystical experience involves not knowing, but unknowing. Surprisingly, Ps.-Dionysius nowhere associates the ascent to or attainment of unknowing with love! That connection came from Gallus. The Victorines were Augustinians, and Gallus’ work — relying on the Song of Songs as well as the Dionysian corpus — represents an ultimate marriage of Augustinian love mysticism with Neoplatonic intellectual mysticism.

Along with this, Gallus was also the first to discuss an interiorized version of the angelic hierarchies of Ps.-Dionysius. The latter, it will be recalled, posited the existence of nine hierarchical orders of angels, arranged in groups of three. Gallus understood there to be a parallel psychological situation within a person’s soul. As symbolized by Jacob’s ladder, these interior angels or soul activities interact and communicate upwards and downwards, between celestial levels of the soul and those concerned with activity in the material world.

The above two things enable Gallus to integrate what today we call apophatic (conceptless) and kataphatic (concept-oriented) mysticism. These are seen as two movements of the same, higher-order process. This also solves the problem of quietism. The mystical life is not merely a progressively more extreme flight from the world: an ascent beyond body to soul, from soul to intellect, and then beyond intellect to some wordless, formless experience of unknowing. In the Augustinian tradition, a mystic must apply insights gained and achieve an enriched ability to practice charity to God and man through good works. The mystical life is not one of withdrawal from the world, but of angelic activity in it. Knowledge about the world leads us to know and love God more, and knowing and loving God more makes use better serve Him in the world.

Finally, Gallus’ work on the apex of the mind and spark of synderesis was groundbreaking. For him, the apex mentis or highest summit of the soul is not, as in some earlier and later writers, solely an organ of moral conscience. Rather, it is truly a spark of God’s consciousness that we possess, in which highest the affective experience and the highest intellectual knowing of God may coincide.

Inner Angelic Hierarchy

Gallus’ best descriptions of the interior angelic hierarchy come not in his works on the Dionysian corpus, but in the Prologues of two commentaries on the Song of Songs (Barbet, 1967). The brief description below borrows liberally from Tichelkamp (2017) and Coolman (2017). We consider the nine ranks of angelic functions from lowest to highest — which would correspond to a process of gradual ascent (similar to the Journey of the Mind to God by St. Bonaventure, who was influenced by Gallus). However it would be equally logical to consider them in the reverse order, from highest to lowest.

First triad: Natural sensing and judging powers of soul operating alone

1. Angels
Basic perceptions or observations of the world, without yet any judgment of these observations.

2. Archangels
Intellectual judgments that discern whether what is observed is agreeable or disagreeable to oneself.

3. Principalities
The mind then makes an affective/volitional choice to approach what was judged agreeable, or desires to flee from what was judged disagreeable

Second triad: Natural forces of soul operating in cooperation with supernatural grace

4. Powers
Initial activities of reason, intellect, and affect—mental powers.

5. Virtues
Activation of mental/moral virtues, e.g., temperance, courage.

6. Dominations
Free will suspends the intellect and affect “in order to receive divine interventions; mind “is stretched and exercised (extenditur et exercetur)… to the highest limits of its nature.

Third triad: Operations of supernatural grace alone

7. Thrones
A suspension of the mind’s greatest powers, intellect and affect, gives way to the reception of divine grace that heightens the activity of intellect and affect.

8. Cherubim
This order contains the knowledge (cognitio) of both intellect and affect as they have been drawn or attracted by divine grace beyond the mind. Intellect and affect have “walked together up to the final failure of the intellect, which is at the summit of this order.

9. Seraphim
The Seraphic level contains “only the principal affection (spark of synderesis) which can be united to God (sola principalis affectio Deo unibilis).

When the mind has fully ascended, the soul is in proper order, and, like a healthy spiritual plant or tree, it can now communicate the life-giving fecundity of God, the Divine Source, from the highest level to all lower orders of the mind and soul. In a way reminiscent of certain Eastern esoteric systems (kundalini yoga and Taoist spiritual alchemy), the summum bonum of human life is neither ascent, nor remaining in ecstasy, but a steady-state circulation. This would imply (following basic principles of Victorine and Augustine psychology), one being an agent of God’s charity in the world. Hence the ultimate ethical end is the unitive state, or what some in the yogic traditions call the jivan mukta state.

Details here are necessarily very sketchy, but interested readers may found more detail in  Coolman (2017), Tichelkamp (2017) and this video by Coolman.

The video is also interesting because Coolman draws an analogy between internal angelic hierarchy to certain ideas of the Jesuit philosopher, Bernard Lonergan, concerning hierarchical levels of human consciousness.

Readings

Barbet, Jeanne (ed.). Thomas Gallus: Commentaires du Cantique des Cantiques. Paris: J. Vrin, 1967.

Chase, Steven. Angelic Spirituality: Medieval Perspectives on the Ways of Angels. Paulist Press, 2002. Includes translations of Gallus’ Prologue to the Third Commentary on the Song of Songs and his Extractio on the Celestial Hierarchy.

Coolman, Boyd Taylor. Knowledge, Love, and Ecstasy in the Theology of Thomas Gallus. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017.

Coolman, Boyd Taylor. The medieval affective Dionysian tradition. Modern Theology 24:4 October 2008. Reprinted in: Eds. Sarah Coakley, Charles M. Stang. Re-thinking Dionysius the Areopagite, Wiley, 2011.

Coolman, Boyd Taylor. Magister in hierarchia: Thomas Gallus as Victorine Interpreter of Dionysius. In: Eds. Hugh Feiss, Juliet Mousseau, A Companion to the Abbey of Saint Victor in Paris, Brill, 2017; pp. 516−546

Lawell, Declan Anthony (ed.). Thomas Gallus: Explanatio in Libros Dionysii. Corpus Christianorum Continuatio Mediaevalis 223. Turnhout: Brepols, 2011. Latin critical edition.

McEvoy, James. Mystical Theology: The Glosses by Thomas Gallus and the Commentary of Robert Grosseteste on De mystica theologia. Paris: Peeters, 2003; pp. 3–54.

McGinn, Bernard.  Thomas Gallus and Dionysian Mysticism. Studies in Spirituality, 8 (Louvain: Peeters, 1994), pp. 81–96, slightly expanded from The Flowering of Mysticism: Men and Women in the New Mysticism (1200–1350), volume 3 of The Presence of God: A History of Western Christian Mysticism (New York, NY: Crossroad, 1998).

Tichelkamp, Craig H. Experiencing the Word: Dionysian Mystical Theology in the Commentaries of Thomas Gallus. Dissertation. Harvard University, 2017.

Walach, Harald. Higher self – spark of the mind – summit of the soul. Early history of an important concept of transpersonal psychology in the West. International Journal of Transpersonal Studies 24.1, 2005, 16−28.

Walsh, James. Thomas Gallus et l’effort contemplatif. Revue d’histoire de la spiritualité, 51, 1975, pp. 17–42.

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Richard of St. Victor: Allegorical Meaning of Jacob’s Wives and Children

GENESIS 29ff tells of the wives and children of Jacob, grandson of the patriarch Abraham.  Jacob had 12 sons, from whom descended the 12 tribes of Israel.  The story’s details suggest that, like the rest of Genesis, it has an allegorical meaning.  Richard of Saint-Victor’s (fl. 1165) analysis of this, a work titled the Twelve Patriarchs (Benjamin Minor), is a masterpiece of psychological allegoresis, rivaling the even seminal contributions of Philo of Alexandria to this genre.

As Genesis explains, Jacob married Laban’s daughters, Leah and Rachel, and also their respective handmaids, Zilpah and Bilhah  These four mothers bore 12 sons and one daughter.  For Richard — following the long tradition established by Philo (and mediated through Origen, Ambrose and Jerome; see Sheridan, 2012) Jacob symbolizes the ‘practicer’ of moral reformation and spiritual growth.  That is, practice here is understood in the sense of askesis, namely the practical effort one makes to mature into a self-realized holy and spiritual person.

Each of Jacob’s wives and children, according to Richard, symbolizes a distinct psychological disposition relevant to this journey. Leah and Rachel represent the affective and intellectual sides of our psyche or soul, and Zilpah and Bilah are sensation and imagination, which, according to Richard, serve affection and reason, respectively.

Each son and daughter is a virtuous disposition originating in our psychological nature (in effect, they are very much like Jungian archetypes, but all concerned with our moral and spiritual development). They emerge in a particular order and supply some necessary function as we proceed towards higher levels of moral integration and spiritual consciousness.  This is a cyclical process, something we repeat often, perhaps even daily in our constant struggle to rise from worldly-mindedness and egoism to spiritual mindedness.

Two give two examples, Naphtali, a son of Bilah, is the disposition to uplift our soul from consideration of material things to the eternal goods these things suggest or symbolize; and Gad, a son of Zilpha, represents abstinence, or the intentional putting aside of sensual pleasures. Ultimately we arrive at the births of Joseph (discriminative self-knowledge) and Benjamin (religious contemplation).

Whether this is the original intended meaning of Genesis here or not, merely taken on its own terms Richard’s exegesis supplies an insightful and valuable analysis of the psychology of the spiritual journey. It’s also landmark in the history of Old Testament interpretation and deserves wider attention today.

The following excerpt concerning Joseph exemplifies quality of the entire work.

Richard of Saint-Victor. The Twelve Patriarchs (Benjamin Minor), Chs. 71−72

Chapter LXXI. Concerning the two offspring of reason, viz., grace of discretion and grace of contemplation.

By this Joseph the soul is continually instructed and at times is led to full knowledge of itself, just as by his [full] brother Benjamin it is at times lifted up to the contemplation of God. For just as we understand grace of discretion by Joseph, so we understand grace of contemplation by Benjamin. Both are born from [Rachel] because knowledge of God and of self are learned from Reason. Benjamin is born long after Joseph because the soul that has not been practiced over a long time and educated fully in knowledge of self is not raised up to knowledge of God. In vain he raises the eye of the heart to see God when he is not yet prepared to see himself. Let a person first learn to know his own invisible things before he presumes that he is able to grasp at invisible divine things. You must know the invisible things of your own spirit before you can be capable of knowing the invisible things of God. If you are not able to know yourself, how do you have the boldness to grasp at those things which are above you?

Chapter LXXII. How the soul is lifted up to contemplation of God by means of full knowledge of self.

The rational soul discovers without doubt that it is the foremost and principal mirror for seeing God. For if the invisible things of God are seen, being understood by the intellect by means of those things which have been made (cf. Rom. 1:20), where, I ask, have the traces of knowledge been found more clearly imprinted than in His image? … Whoever thirsts to see his God — let him wipe his mirror, let him cleanse his spirit. And so the true Joseph does not cease to hold, wipe and gaze into this mirror incessantly: to hold it so that it does not adhere to the earth, after it has fallen down by means of love; to wipe it so that it does not become dirty from the dust of useless thoughts; to gaze into it so that the eye of his intention does not turn toward empty pursuits. When the mirror has been wiped and gazed into for a long time, a kind of splendor of divine light begins to shine in it and a great beam of unexpected vision appears to his eyes. This light illumined the eyes of him who said: “The light of your face has been sealed upon us, Lord; you have put joy in my heart” (Ps. 4:7). Therefore, from the vision of this light that it wonders at within itself, the soul is kindled from above in a marvelous way and is animated to see the living light that is above it. I say, from this vision the soul conceives the flame of longing for the sight of God, and it lays hold of a pledge. And so the mind that now bums with longing for this vision should know that if it already hopes for what it longs for, it already has conceived Benjamin himself. By hoping the mind conceives; by longing it goes into labor; and the more longing increases, the closer it comes to giving birth. (Zinn, pp. 129−130)

Richard’s sequel to this work, The Mystical Ark (Benjamin Major), treats of the fruits of the ascetical process, that is, contemplation: its nature, ascending levels, and culmination in mystical union with God. That work is important both for its own sake and for its influence on St. Bonaventure’s Journey of the Mind to God.

Bibliography

Chase, Steven. Angelic Wisdom: The Cherubim and the Grace of Contemplation in Richard of St. Victor. Notre Dame University Press, 1995.

Châtillon, Jean; Duchet-Suchaux, Monique. Les douze Patriarches ou Benjamin Minor. Texte critique et traduction; introduction, notes et index par Jean Longère. Sources chrétiennes 419. Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1997.

Palmén, Ritva. Richard of St. Victor’s Theory of Imagination. Brill, 2014. Dissertation, University of Helsinki, 2013.

Richard of Saint-Victor, De praeparatione animi ad contemplationem, liber dictus Benjamin Minor. Omnia opera. Patrologia Latina, vol. 196, ed. J. P. Migne. Paris, 1855, col. 1−64.

Sheridan, Mark. Jacob and Israel: A contribution to the history of an interpretation. In: Mark Sheridan, From the Nile to the Rhone and Beyond: Studies in Early Monastic Literature and Scriptural Interpretation. Rome, 2012; pp. 315−334. Originally published in: Studia Anselmo, 116, 1995, 219−241.

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

Richard of Saint-Victor: On the Movements of Contemplation

IN  A SUSTAINED analogy, Richard of Saint-Victor (1110−1173) likens contemplation to the movements of a bird (he doesn’t say what kind; a hummingbird fits the image well, but they only exist in the Western Hemisphere).  He evidently attached some importance to this analogy, and we might assume it’s something he developed from his own contemplation of natural phenomena.

An interesting detail his rather unexpected mention of major and minor premises (parts of a logical syllogism) — illustrating the integral nature of Victorine philosophy, artfully combining what today we might call left-brain and right-brain functions, i.e., logical analysis with creative intuition.

While I personally found this description of the phenomenology of contemplation fascinating, I hesitated to post it, thinking others might find it less interesting.  But yesterday a bird seemed to deliberately hover a few feet in front of my face, which I took it as sufficiently like an oracle to proceed.

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Richard of Saint-Victor. The Mystical Ark (Benjamin Major) 1.5

That the mode of contemplation operates in many ways

While the penetrating ray of contemplation is always suspended near something because of greatness of wonder, [admirationis magnitudine], it operates neither always nor uniformly in the same mode.  For that vivacity of intelligence in the soul of a contemplative (1) at one time goes out and returns with marvelous quickness, (2) at another time bends itself, as it were, into a circle, and (3) yet at another time gathers itself together in one place and fixes itself, as it were, motionless.

We see this pattern daily in the birds of the sky.  You may see some raising themselves high, others plunging low — and often repeating their ascent and descent.  Some turn to the side, now to the right, now to the left, or moving ahead a little, or advancing almost not at all, again repeating their movements with great constancy.

Others thrust ahead in great haste. But then, with equal rapidity, return to the rear, and repeating this for some time.

Others move in a circle many times,  one time a little wider, another time slightly smaller,  always returning to the same place.

Others suspend themselves for a long time in the same place with rapidly vibrating wings, fix themselves motionless and cling to the same place. It’s as though they wish to exclaim, “It is good for us to be here” (Matt. 17:4).

Similarly the flight of our contemplation is varied in many ways and of varying modes.

At one time it rises from the lower to the higher; at another it falls from the higher to the lower.  By the quickness of its consideration it moves at one time from the part to the whole; at another time from the whole to the part.

And at one time it draws the argument for that which it ought to know from a major premise; at another from a minor premise. At one moment it turns aside into this part, at another moment into the opposite part; it elicits an idea of contraries from knowledge of contraries, and usually varies the performance of its reasoning according to the differing mode of opposites.

At some time it runs forward and quickly runs back when it discerns the quality or mode of anything whatsoever, either from the effects or from the causes and whatever has preceded or followed.

But sometimes our speculation is led as it were in a circle, when some things are considered that are in common with many things or when, for the determination of any one thing whatsoever, a reason is drawn and assigned now to similar things, now to things having similar essences or accidents.

The fixed focus of our consideration is placed in one place, immobile, when the attention of the contemplative gladly  remains with the being of any thing whatsoever in order to observe and marvel at its proper nature.

Perhaps we shall more fitly say that to rise and fall, to go and return, to turn aside now here, now there, to continue at one time in a circle, and finally to cling together in unity: this is nothing other than by means of the greatest quickness to pass, in the mind,  now from the lowest things to the highest, or from the highest to the lowest; now from the oldest things to the newest or from the newest to the oldest; at one time from unequal to equal kinds of merits and rewards; at another time, to consider with diligent examination the circumstance and connection of everything whatsoever; and finally, at some time, satisfying the soul with the rareness of some speculation and wonder at the rareness.  See, as we have said above, how the activity of our contemplation is always suspended and is drawn forth according to some thing, while the soul of the contemplative gladly remains in the manifestation of its joy and is always eager either to return into itself frequently or to continue immobile in the same place for a long time.

Listen—concerning that mode of contemplation which is accustomed to go forward and back in a certain manner: “The living creatures will go and return in the likeness of flashing lightning” (Ezek. 1:14).  [JU: referring to the Chariot Vison of Ezekiel and the four ‘living creatures’]

The one who moves upward and downward, as it were, is described by the Psalmist in a few words: “They rise all the way to the heavens and they fall all the way into the abyss” (Ps. 106:26).

With respect to that mode of contemplation which, for instance, is led in a circle, you are admonished by the prophetic voice where it is said: “Lift up your eyes in a circle and see” (Isa. 60:4).

The ray of contemplation is fixed motionless in one place, for example, when anyone experiences in himself Habakkuk in that place: “Sun and moon stood still in their dwelling place” (Hab. 3:11).

It remains for us to see how many kinds of contemplation there are.
Source: Zinn, Grover A. (tr.). Richard of St. Victor: The Twelve Patriarchs, The Mystical Ark and Book Three of The Trinity. Paulist Press, 1979; pp. 158ff (edited and paraphrased).

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While the analogy to a bird’s flight suggests these are phenomenological observations of Richard based on his own experience, he may also have had in mind a section of Pseudo-Dionysius’ Divine Names on the soul’s movements:

9. The soul too has movement. First it moves in a circle, that is, it turns within itself and away from what is outside and there is an inner concentration of its intellectual powers. A sort of fixed revolution causes it to return from the multiplicity of externals, to gather in upon itself and then, in this undispersed condition, to join those who are themselves in a powerful union. From there the revolution brings the soul to the Beautiful and the Good, which is beyond all things, is one and the same, and has neither beginning nor end. But whenever the soul receives, in accordance with its capacities, the enlightenment of divine knowledge and does so not by way of the mind nor in some [705B] mode arising out of its identity, but rather through discursive reasoning, in mixed and changeable activities, then it moves in a spiral fashion. And its movement is in a straight line when, instead of circling in upon its own intelligent unity (for this is the circular), it proceeds to the things around it, and is uplifted from external things, as from certain variegated and pluralized symbols, to the simple and united contemplations.
Source: Pseudo-Dionysius, Divine Names (Περὶ θείων ὀνομάτων; De Divinis Nominibus) 4.9; tr. Luibheid & Rorem.

St. Thomas Aquinas in Summa Theologica 2−2, Question 180.6 (The movements of contemplation assigned by Dionysius) mentions both the passage directly above and Richard’s discussion.

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Bibliography

Aris, Marc-Aeilko (ed.). Contemplatio: Philosophische Studien zum Traktat Benjamin Maior des Richard von St. Victor. Improved edition of text. Frankfurt am Main, 1996.

Chase, Steven. Angelic Wisdom: The Cherubim and the Grace of Contemplation in Richard of St. Victor. Notre Dame University Press, 1995.

Luibheid, Colm; Rorem, Paul (trs.). Pseudo-Dionysius: The Complete Works. Paulist Press, 1987.

Palmén, Ritva. Richard of St. Victor’s Theory of Imagination. Brill, 2014. Dissertation, University of Helsinki, 2013.

Richard of Saint-Victor, Omnia opera. Patrologia Latina, vol. 196, ed. J. P. Migne. Paris, 1855; cols. 68C−70B.

The Summa Theologiæ of St. Thomas Aquinas. Second and Revised Edition. London, 1920. Online editor, Kevin Knight.

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

 

Contemplative Christianity in the 13th and 14th Centuries: Latin West

(click image to view in high resolution)

HERE we extend the previous timeline forward to the 13th and 14th centuries.
Legend: Olive = Benedictine; Light green: Cistercian; Purple: Dominican; Orange = Carthusian; Dark blue = Augustinian; Light blue = Other.

Recommended Reading

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

McGinn, Bernard. The Flowering of Mysticism: Men and Women in the New Mysticism (1200−1350). (Vol. 3 of B. McGinn, The Presence of God: A History of Western Christian Mysticism.) New York: Crossroad, 1998.

Hugh of St. Victor: Noah’s Ark as an Allegory for Contemplation

Art: (c) Conrad Rudolph

the ark is the secret place of our own heart

IN THE early High Middle Ages, before Scholasticism arose to dominate Christian theology, the Abbey of St. Victor in Paris was a leading intellectual center. Some work performed there built on the writings of Pseudo-Dionysius (translated into Latin two centuries earlier) to develop what we might call a science of contemplation, laying important groundwork for later Christian mysticism. Allegorical interpretation of Scripture supported this. Hugh of St. Victor’s (c. 1096–1141) exegesis of the story of Noah’s Ark is an example.

Philo (Questions and Answers on Genesis 1.89−2.78) and St. Ambrose (De Noe et Arca; PL 14.361−416) had, much earlier, allegorically interpreted the story of Noah and the Ark. In the light of these writings, the story emerges as a far more subtle and relevant myth than people ordinarily suppose. It’s very important to attend to specific details — such as the ark was three stories high, had a window and door, and that Noah first sent out a raven.

According to art historian Conrad Rudolph, Hugh lectured on the topic using a large, 10-foot square painting summarizing the symbolism. The figure shown above is Rudolph’s reconstruction.

Now the figure of this spiritual building which I am going to present to you is Noah’s ark. This your eye shall see outwardly, so that your soul may be fashioned to its likeness inwardly. You will see there certain colours, shapes, and figures which will be pleasant to behold. But you must understand that these are put there, that from them you may learn wisdom, instruction, and virtue, to adorn your soul. …

The third [ark] is that which wisdom builds daily in our hearts through continual meditation on the law of God. …

[W]hoever makes it his endeavour to cut himself off from the enjoyment of this world and cultivate the virtues, must with the assistance of God’s grace erect within himself a building of virtues three hundred cubits long in faith of Holy Trinity, fifty cubits wide in charity, and thirty cubits high in the hope that is in Christ, a building long in good works and wide in love and lofty in desire, so that his heart may be where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. …

If, then, we have begun to live persistently in our own heart through the practice of meditation, we have already in a manner ceased to belong to time; and, having become dead as it were to the world, we are living inwardly with God. We shall then easily make light of anything that fortune brings upon us outwardly, if our heart is there fixed where we are not subject to change, where we neither seek to have again things past, nor look for those to come, where we neither desire the pleasant things of this life, nor fear things contrary. Let us therefore have right thoughts, let us have pure and profitable thoughts, for of such material we shall build our ark. These are the timbers that float when they are put into the water and burn when placed in the fire; for the tide of fleshly pleasures does not weigh down such thoughts, but the flame of charity enkindles them. …

As we have said before, the ark of the flood is the secret place of our own heart, in which we must hide from the tumult of this world. But because the feebleness of our condition itself prevents our staying long in the silence of inward contemplation, we have a way out by the door and window. The door denotes the way out through action, the window the way out through thought. The door is below, the window above, because actions pertain to the body and thoughts to the soul. That is why the birds went out through the window and the beasts and men through the door. …

But the fact that the door is situated in the side denotes that we must never leave the secret chamber of our heart through our own deliberate choice, but only as necessity may happen to demand. …

But the fact that the door is situated in the side denotes that we must never leave the secret chamber of our heart through our own deliberate choice, but only as necessity may happen to demand.  …

Now we go out by action in four ways. For some actions are carnal those, that is to say, which are concerned with physical need; others are spiritual, and are concerned with the instruction of the mind. Good men and bad go forth for both. Those who are enslaved to the outward fulfilling of their lusts are like the unclean animals that went forth from the ark. Those, however, who discharge them from necessity are animals indeed, but clean. …

Eve ‘saw that the tree was pleasant to the eyes, and was good for food, and she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat’. Those who in this way issue forth through thought are like the raven which did not return. For when they find outside what gives them evil pleasure, they never want to come back again to the ark of conscience. …

The other three kinds of contemplation, however, are symbolized by the going forth of the dove who, when she was sent out and found no rest for her foot, returned at evening carrying in her mouth an olive branch in leaf. She went out empty, but she did not return so. For she found outside that which she did not have within, although the thing that she brought in she did not love outside. The olive branch in leaf denotes a good state of soul.

Source: Hugh of St. Victor, De arca Noe morali. In: Hugh of St. Victor: Selected Spiritual Writings, Translated by a religious of the Community of St. Mary the Virgin,  Harper, 1962.  [ebook].

Latin: Hugh of Saint-Victor. Omnia opera. Patrologia Latina, ed. J. P. Migne, vol. 176. Paris, 1854. Cols. 618−680.

Art:  Rudolph, Conrad. The Mystic Ark: Hugh of Saint Victor, Art, and Thought in the Twelfth Century. Cambridge University Press, 2014.

Richard of St. Victor, The Ark of the Covenant as an Allegory for Contemplation

IN THE 12th century the Abbey of St. Victor outside Paris was a major teaching center. One dominant interest there was to develop a science of contemplation, drawing on such sources as St. Augustine, the Benedictine monastic tradition, and Pseudo-Dionysius. Allegorical interpretation of Scripture reached an advanced level. Richard of St. Victor (1110?−1173), for example, wrote a treatise on contemplation in the form of an exegesis of the Ark of the Covenant in Exodus 25. This is variously called Benjamin Major, The Mystical Ark, and The Grace of Contemplation. His writings profoundly affected subsequent Christian mysticism, including St. Bonaventure, the Rhineland mystics, and Spanish mysticism.

The Mystical Ark is a tour de force of psychological allegorical interpretation, as is also Richards’ related work, The Twelve Patriarchs (Benjamin Minor). The subject is the meaning of the Ark of the Covenant. For Richard,the covenant means a life of Christian perfection — what Underhill and others call the unitive life.  In this condition the soul is so completely united with God that it constantly seeks, learns, and follows God’s will in a life of Christian wisdom and harmony; one principle way this harmony is expressed is in charity towards others.  The ark is the sanctified soul, which must be prepared to receive and house, as it were, the covenant by means of the practice of contemplation.  Hence the work is concerned with the construction of the soul-ark by contemplation. The Twelve Patriarchs describes the development of moral and intellectual virtue which must precede the work of contemplation.

For Richard, contemplation (contemplatio) is the highest of three ascending forms of cognitive activity, the others being undirected or aimless thinking (cogitatio; our usual state of mentation), and directed thought or meditation (meditatio).  Contemplation is understood in a general way as the relaxed gaze of the mind in wonder and admiration, sustained yet dynamic (see his excellent analogy to a bird’s flight here).

Contemplation itself has six ascending levels, divided into groups of two.  The three groups correspond to the realms of the material world and senses (contemplation of the natural world), the realm of the human mind/soul, and of the divine mysteries of God’s Essence and the Trinity. A later post will describe the six levels of contemplation in more detail. These are of considerable interest for their own sake, and also in that they influenced the six-stage ascent to God described by St. Bonaventure in his Journey of the Soul to God, as well as the nine-tiered mental hieararchy of fellow Victorine, Thomas Gallus.

At the end of The Mystical Ark, Richard supplied a helpful recapitulation of the entire work, including a summary of Ark symbolism, shown in part below.  For now, let this serve as a foretaste of his powers of allegorical interpretation. This section helps one see how he approaches symbols, but does not adequately convey his engaging prose style and mastery of organization. Readers are in any case referred to Zinn’s accessible English translation and Introduction.

By the tabernacle of the covenant we understand the state of perfection.
Where perfection of the soul is, there also is the habitation of God.
The more the mind approaches perfection, the more closely it is joined in a covenant with God.
However, the tabernacle itself ought to have an atrium around about it.
By atrium we understand discipline of the body; by tabernacle we understand discipline of the mind. …
No person knows what belongs to the inner person except the spirit of humanity that is in him.
The habitus of the inner person is divided into a rational and an intellectual habitus.
The rational habitus is understood by the exterior tabernacle, but the intellectual habitus is understood by the interior
tabernacle.
We call the rational sense that by which we discern the things of ourself;
In this place we call the intellectual sense that by which we are raised up to the speculation of divine things. …
A person enters into the first tabernacle when he returns to himself.
A person enters into the second tabernacle when he goes beyond himself.
When going beyond himself surely a person is elevated to God.
A person remains in the first tabernacle by consideration of himself; in the second, by contemplation of God. …
In the atrium of the tabernacle was the altar of burnt offering.
In the first tabernacle were the candelabrum, the table, and the altar of incense.
In the interior tabernacle was the Ark of the Covenant.
The exterior altar is affliction of the body; the interior altar is contrition of the mind.
The candelabrum is the grace of discretion; the table is the teaching of sacred reading.
By the Ark of the Covenant we understand the grace of contemplation.
On the exterior altar the bodies of animals were burned up; by affliction of the body carnal longings are annihilated.
On the interior altar aromatic smoke was offered to the Lord; by contrition of heart the flame of celestial longings is
kindled.
A candelabrum is a holder for lights; discretion is the lamp of the inner person.
On the table bread is placed; by it those who are hungry may be refreshed.
However sacred reading certainly is the refreshment of the soul.
An ark is a secret place for gold and silver; the grace of contemplation lays hold of the treasury of celestial wisdom.
Good working pertains to the exterior altar.
Zealous meditation pertains to the candelabrum.
Sacred reading pertains to the table.
Devoted prayer pertains to the interior altar.

(Source: Zinn)

Bibliography

Aris, Marc-Aeilko (ed.). Contemplatio: philosophische Studien zum Traktat Benjamin maior des Richard von St. Viktor, mit einer verbesserten Edition des Textes. Frankfurt am Main, 1996.

Chase, Steven. Angelic Wisdom: The Cherubim and the Grace of Contemplation in Richard of St. Victor. Notre Dame University Press, 1995.

Coolman, Boyd Taylor. The Victorines. In: Ed. Julia A. Lamm, The Wiley-Blackwell Companion to Christian Mysticism, Wiley, 2013; pp. 251−266.

Cousins, Ewert H. (tr.). Bonaventure: The Soul’s Journey into God. Paulist Press, 1978.

Emery, Jr., Kent. Richard of St. Victor. In: Eds. Jorge J. E. Gracia, Timothy B. Noone, A Companion to Philosophy in the Middle Ages, Blackwell, 2002, 588−594.

McGinn, Bernard. The Flowering of Mysticism: Men and Women in the New Mysticism (1200−1350). New York: Crossroad, 1998.

Palmén, Ritva. Richard of St. Victor’s Theory of Imagination. Brill, 2014. Based on author’s dissertation, University of Helsinki, 2013.

Richard of Saint-Victor, Omnia opera. Patrologia Latina, vol. 196, cols. 191−202, ed. J. P. Migne. Paris, 1855. Online Latin text.

Robilliard, J.-A. Les six genres de contemplation chez Richard de Saint-Victor et leur origine platonicienne. Revue de sciences philosophiques et théologiques 28, 1939, 229–233.

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

St. Bonaventure: Contemplation of Creation’s Sevenfold Splendor

FROM these visible things, therefore, one rises to consider the power, wisdom and goodness of God as existing, living, intelligent, purely spiritual, incorruptible and unchangeable.  This reflection can be extended according to the sevenfold properties of creatures — which is a sevenfold testimony to the divine power, wisdom and goodness — if we consider the origin, magnitude, multitude, beauty, fulness, activity and order of all things.

1. The origin of things, according to their creation, distinction and embellishment, as the work of the six days, proclaims the divine power that produces all things from nothing, the divine wisdom that clearly distinguishes all things, and the divine goodness that lavishly adorns all things.

2. The magnitude of things, in the mass of their length, width and depth; in their great power extending in length, width and depth as appears in the diffusion of light; in the efficiency of their operations which are internal, continuous and diffused as appears in the operation of fire — all this clearly manifests the immensity of the power, wisdom and goodness of the triune God, who by his power, presence and essence exists uncircumscribed in all things.

3. The multitude of things in their generic, specific and individual diversity in substance, form or figure, and efficiency — beyond all human calculation clearly suggests and shows the immensity of the three previously mentioned attributes in God.

4. The beauty of things, in the variety of light, shape and color in simple, mixed and even organic bodies such as heavenly bodies, and minerals (like stones and metals), and plants and animals clearly proclaims the three previously mentioned attributes.

5. The fulness of things by which matter is full of forms because of seminal principles, form is full of power because of its active potency, power is full of effects because of its efficiency, clearly declares the same attributes.

6. The activity, multiple inasmuch as it is natural, artificial and moral, by its manifold variety shows the immensity of that power, art and goodness which is “the cause of being, the basis of understanding and the order of living”

7. The order in duration, position and influence, that is, before and after, higher and lower, nobler and less noble, in the book of creation clearly indicates the primacy, sublimity and dignity of the First Principle and thus the infinity of his power. The order of the divine law, precepts and judgments in the book of Scripture shows the immensity of his wisdom. And the order of the divine sacraments, benefits and recompense in the body of the Church shows the immensity of his goodness. In this way order itself leads us most clearly into the first and highest, the most powerful, the wisest and the best.

Whoever, therefore, is not enlightened by such splendor of created things is blind;
whoever is not awakened by such outcries is deaf;
whoever does not praise God because of all these effects is dumb;
whoever does not discover the First Principle from such clear signs is a fool.

Therefore, open your eyes,
alert the ears of your spirit,
open your lips
and apply your heart

so that in all creatures you may see, hear, praise, love and worship, glorify and honor your God lest the whole world rise against you. For because of this the whole world will fight against the foolish.  On the contrary, it will be a matter of glory for the wise, who can say with the Prophet: You have gladdened me, Lord, by your deeds and in the works of your hands I will rejoice. How great are your works, Lord! You have made all things in wisdom; the earth is filled with your creatures.

Source: Cousins, Ewert H. (tr.). Bonaventure: The Soul’s Journey into God. Paulist Press, 1978; pp. 64−68.

Latin: S. Bonaventurae, Itinerarium mentis in Deum 1.1. In: S. Bonaventurae opera omnia, Vol. V, Fathers of the Collegii S. Bonaventura (eds.), Florence: Quaracchi, pp. 295-316.

 

 

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

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.