Sermons on the Song of Songs

but this grace is reserved for another season. For the present we bestow upon you these ornaments, to be both a consolation to you in the meantime, and a preparation for the glory which you crave.' It is as though they spoke to her those words of the Psalmist: Hearken^ O daughter, and consider, incline thine ear (Ps. xlv. 10). You desire to behold; but first hearken. Hearing is the step by which you reach sight Therefore listen, and incline thine ear to the ornaments which we devise for thee, so that by the obedience of hearing thou mayest come to the glory of vision. Upon thine hearing we bestow joy and gladness. As for that Vision (in which is fulness of joy, and the fulfilment of all thy desire), it is not ours to give, but His alone whom thy soul loveth. It is for Him to show Himself to thee, so that thy joy may be full; He shall make thy joy perfect with His countenance. In the meantime, do thou receive at our hand these jewelled pendants for a consolation; but in His Right Hand are delights for evermore.

3. We must now consider what are the pendants which they offer. Pendants of gold, it is said, and studs of silver. Now, gold denotes the splendour of Divinity, and the wisdom which is from above. It is this gold which the celestial workers, to whom that ministry is committed, promise to fashion into glittering signs and tokens (so to speak) of truth, and to insert them into the inward ears of the soul. That signifies, I believe, nothing else than to construct the similitudes of certain spiritual realities, and to bring the purest intuitions of the Divine wisdom before the perception of the soul absorbed in contemplation, so that it may behold, at least darkly and as in a glass, what it is not yet equal to beholding face to face. These things are wholly Divine, and are known only to those who have had experience of them; they alone know how, while yet in this mortal body, while yet in the state of faith, while the real substance of Light perspicuous and lucid is not yet made manifest, it may nevertheless come about that contemplation of the pure truth may sometimes already mark out within us the outline of its form, at least in part, so that he from among us who is so happy as to have received that gift from on high may say with the Apostle: Noiv I know in part; and again: Now we know in part, and we prophesy in part (1 Cor. xiii. 12, 9). But when the spirit, coming forth, as it were, out of itself, and rapt in ecstasy, beholds somewhat of the more Divine and sacred Truth, which flashes before its vision with the rapidity of lightning, then, either in order to temper the exceeding brilliance of a light too penetrating to be endured, or to render us capable of communicating the substance of it to others, forthwith, I know not whence, there present themselves to our imagination images and figures of lower (that is, earthly) things, to which the truths revealed from above are accommodated, which veil in a certain sense that most pure and splendid ray of truth, and render it more supportable by the mind, and more able to be communicated to others. These are, I think, formed in our minds by the ministry of good angels, as, on the other hand, there is no doubt that those other [images] which are evil, are produced by the agency of evil spirits.

4. And perhaps this is that very mirror [of the imagination] through which, as I have said, the Apostle saw darkly (1 Cor. xiii. 12), which is formed, so to speak, by the hands of Angels, and from which come gleams of pure light, beautiful and heavenly ideas and images. This, indeed, gives us the knowledge of God, who is discerned as pure Being, and without any phantasy of bodily semblance, and we must attribute to this Angelic ministry that similitude of supreme excellence which affords to us an idea of Him who is clad in majesty so awfuL There is another version which seems to express this more strikingly still: We [artificers] will make for thee images of gold, with [badges or] distinctions of silver.1 One says with badges of silver, [the other] with studs of silver.. In which are signified, as it seems to me, not only that the inward images are suggested to our minds by the Angels, but also that the grace and eloquence of their outward clothing [of words] is ministered to us by the Angels also, so that by their fitting and graceful expression they are more easily received, and more fully enjoyed, by the hearers. If you shall say, What relation or likeness is there between words spoken and silver, the Psalmist replies to you: The words of the Lord are pure words, as silver tried in a fumaa (Ps. xii. 6). Thus, then, it is that those heavenly and ministering spirits fashion for the Bride, while she is a pilgrim here on earth, pendants of gold with studs of silver.

5. But notice how, while desiring one thing, she receives another. She sighs for the repose of contemplation, and the labour of preaching is laid upon her; and while she is thirsting for the presence of the Bridegroom, the care of bringing forth children for Him and of nourishing them is entrusted to her. Nor is this the only occasion when this was so; for once before, as I remember, when she was sighing for the presence and affection of her Bridegroom, the reply to her was: Thy breasts are better than wine (i. 1), so that she might recall that she was a mother, and be reminded of her duty to impart milk to her little children and nourishment to her sons. Perhaps you may remark the same thing in other passages of this Canticle if you will take the trouble to seek them out. Was not the same truth once prefigured in the holy patriarch Jacob when he was defrauded of the nuptials with Rachel, which he had desired and long waited for, and instead of a wife who was barren, though beautiful, he received against his will, and even without his knowledge, one who was fertile though dim-eyed? (Gen. xxix. 23-25). So, also, it is now; the Bride, inquiring and longing to know where the Bridegroom feedeth, where He maketh His flock to rest at noon, receives, instead of that knowledge, pendants of gold with studs of silver — that is, wisdom with eloquence, without doubt for the work of preaching.

6. From this we are taught that it is often needful to leave spiritual contemplation, however sweet, for the sake of the practical labours

which give nourishment, and that no one must live for himself alone, but for the good of all.1 Woe to those who have received the grace to think and to speak worthily of God, if they make a gain of Godliness; if they turn into a reason for vainglory that which they had received that they might win souls to the glory of God; if, having lofty and noble thoughts, they have not also lowly personal feelings. Let them listen in fear and trembling to that which the Lord speaks by the mouth of His prophet: I gave her... silver and gold, which they have used in the service of Baal (Hosea ii. 8, Douay). Do you, then, hear what the Bride replies, having received on the one hand a reproof, and on the other a promise; for she is not exalted by promises, not angered by a repulse, but practises that which is written: Rebuke a wise man, and he will love thee (Prov. ix. 8); and also that which relates to gifts and promises: The greater thou art, the more humble thyself (Ecclus. iii. 18), which will appear the more clearly in her reply. But the consideration of that we will defer, if you please, to the commencement of another sermon; and for what has been said let us render glory to the Bridegroom of the Church, our Lord Jesus Christ, who is above all, God blessed for ever. Amen.

OF TWO KINDS OF HUMILITY: THE ONE BORN OF TRUTH, THE OTHER WARMED BY CHARITY.

HEN the King sitteth at His table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof "(i. 12). These are the words of the Bride, which we have deferred till to-day to speak of; this is the reply which she makes when reproved by the Bridegroom; yet it is not made to Him, but to His companions; the words themselves make this clear. For she does not say, as if addressing Him: ' O King, when Thou sittest at Thy table/ but When the King sitteth; and it is clear that she speaks not to Him, but of Him. Thus, imagine that the Bridegroom, after having (as it appeared) reproved or repulsed the Bride, seeing by her blushes that she was covered with confusion, retired from the spot, that in His absence she might express her feelings more freely \ and that if, as was commonly the case, she yielded too much to depression and grief, the consolations of His companions might raise her up again; which, nevertheless, He does not neglect to do Himself when He considers it the right time. For, to show clearly how much she pleased Him, even during the reproof given to her, because she received it with becoming humility and submission, He wished, before leaving her, to express the praises of her which burst forth, there is no doubt, from the fulness of the heart, and extolled her as beautiful in cheek and neck. Therefore, those who remain with her, knowing the will of their Lord, speak to her courteously, and offer her gifts. It is to them, therefore, that her reply is addressed. So much as to the purpose and connection of the words of the text.

2. But before beginning to extract the kernel of spiritual meaning from this outer shell {testa), I will make one brief reflection. Happy is he by whom reproofs are as well received as those of which we have here a pattern. Would that it were never necessary to reprove anyone, that would be better still! But since in many things we offend all, it is not permitted to me to be silent; my duty obliges me to censure those who do wrong, and charity urges me still more strongly to discharge it. But what if, in the discharge of my duty, I thus censure someone, and the reproof does not effect at all its intended purpose, does not accomplish that wherefor it is sent, but returns to me empty, like a javelin which strikes without piercing and recoils, with what feelings am I affected, do you think, brethren? Am I not pained and angered? And, to press into my service some words of a Master [in Israel], because of my own wisdom I am unequal [to express my meaning as well], I am in a strait between two, and what I shall choose I know not (Phil. i. 23, 22): whether to feel any pleasure in what I have said, because I have performed what was my duty, or whether to experience any regret regarding it, inasmuch as I have not attained the result I wished for. For I desired that an enemy should perish and a brother be delivered, and this I have not succeeded in, but the event has been precisely the contrary: I have wounded his soul and increased his fault, since scorn has been added to it. They will not hearken unto thee, says the prophet, for they will not hearken unto Me (Ezek. iii. 7). You see what Majesty it is that is in this case contemned. You think that it is I only that have been scorned. But it is the Lord that has spoken [unto you through me]; and what He said to the Prophet He said also to His Apostles: Ht that despiseth you despiseth Me (Luke x. 16). I am not a prophet, 1 am not an apostle, and yet I am bold to say I am fulfilling the duty of both the prophet and the apostle; though I am far from approaching their merits, I am charged and burdened with their cares. Though it be to my great confusion, though it be even to my extreme danger, yet I do, in fact, sit in the seat of Moses, though I am far from claiming that my life is such as his, or the grace committed to me equal to that he enjoyed. But what then? Is not respect to be shown to that seat of authority because it is filled by an unworthy occupant? Even when it was occupied by the Scribes and Pharisees, of them the Lord said: Whatsoever they bid you observe, that obserife and do (Matt, xxiii. 2, 3).

3. Very often impatience also is joined to disrespect, so that a person, when blamed, does not only take no care to correct himselt but shows irritation against his reprover, and, like one who is raving in insanity, repels the hand of the physician. Strange is that perversity! He is angry with the man who is anxious to cure his wounds, but for the enemy who pierces him with the shafts of temptation he has no anger! For there is one who shoots his arrows against those who are upright in heart (Ps. xi. 2), who has now wounded you even unto death, and yet against him you are not angry! Your indignation is wholly against me, who desire to see you cured. Be ye angry and sin not, says the Apostle (Eph. iv. 26). If you are angry on account of [your own] sin, not only do you commit no sin, but you root out the sin which you had committed. But now you retain the sin in rejecting the remedy, and you heap sin upon sin by being angry without reason; this is indeed to sin beyond measure.

4. Sometimes even impudence is added to this; not only reproof is borne impatiently, but the fault reproved is impudently defended; and this is mere madness. Thou hadst, saith the Lord, a harlot's forehead: thou woultfst not blush (Jer. iii. 3, Douay); and He says, My jealousy shall depart from thee, I will be no more angry (Ezek. xvl 42). I tremble at the very hearing of the words. Do you feel what a perilous and horrible and fearful thing it is to attempt to defend sin? For He says again: As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten (Rev. iii. 19). If, then, the anger [of God] has deserted you, so also has His love; nor can you think yourself worthy of His love, if you do not think yourself worthy of His chastisements. You see, then, that it is when God shows no anger with the wicked that He is the more angry with them. Let favour be showed to the wicked, He saith, yet will he not learn righteousness (Is. xxvi. 10). May such indulgence be far from me. To be thus spared appears to me more terrible than the most violent anger, because it closes up to me the ways of righteousness. Far better is it for me, according to the counsel of the Psalmist, to embrace the severity of discipline, lest the Lord be sometime angry with me, and so I perish from the right way (Ps. ii. 12). I desire that Thou wouldst be angry with me, O Father of mercies; but with that anger wherewith Thou dost correct one who wanders from the way, not that with which Thou dost exclude such an one from it That censure of Thine is the utterance of a compassion merciful and blessed for us; but that concealment of Thy wrath is what we have to fear most of all. It is not when Thy wrath is concealed from me. but when it is displayed and felt by me that I have most trust in Thy coming favour; for it is especially in Thy anger that Thou rememberest mercy. Thou, says the Psalmist, wast a God that forgavest them, though Thou tookest vengeance of their inventions (Ps. xcix. 8). He speaks of Moses and Aaron, and of Samuel, whom He had sent before Him; and he regards it as an instance of God's favour and goodness that He did not spare their faults and failings. After that, will you still go on defending your faults, and showing anger when reproved for them, and thus shutting against yourself for ever the door of the mercy of God? Is not that, in fact, calling evil good, and good evil? Will not that odious impudence speedily produce impenitence, which is the mother of despair? For who repents for that which he considers not to be wrong? Woe to them, says the Prophet And that woe is eternal. It is one thing for a person to be drawn away from the right and enticed by his own concupiscence; and quite another and very different to seek out evil of free will, as if it were good, and thus in a false confidence to draw near to death as if it were to life. For this very reason, I assure you, I have sometimes preferred to hold my peace, and take no notice in words of an evil which I have observed, rather than to give occasion for so great a mischief in reproving it.

5. You will perhaps say to me that, in such a case, the good of my action would return to me again; that I have delivered my soul, and am clean from the blood of that man to whom I have spoken, and have warned him to turn from his evil way that he may live. But although you should add an infinity of such reasons, they would still be no comfort to me while I am apprehending the spiritual ruin of a soul Tinder my pastoral charge. As if I had sought only my own acquittal from blame in speaking to him, and not rather his good! For what mother is there who, when she has diligently nursed her child, and lavished upon him every care in her power, will be able to restrain her tears if she shall find that all her labours and pains were inefficacious, and that her child was dying in spite of them? And she would feel this only with regard to the death of the body; how much more ought I to weep and lament for the eternal death of a son of mine, even if I am conscious that I have left nothing undone to warn or to help him? You see also from how great evils he escapes himself, and also delivers me, who, when reproved, replies with gentleness, acquiesces with modesty, avows his fault humbly, and obeys with submission. To such a soul I profess myself a debtor in all things; I am his minister and servant, as to a soul which is a most worthy Bride of my Lord, and which is able to say with truth: When the King sitteth at His table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof

6. The odour of humility is excellent, since, rising up from this vale of tears, it is diffused everywhere around, and fills even the chamber of the King with grateful fragrance. Spikenard is a humble plant, which those who have studied with care the nature of herbs say is of a warm nature; and therefore it may be taken here not unfitly, as it seems to me, to denote that virtue of humility which glows with the ardour of Divine love. I say this because there is a kind of humility which truth produces in us, and which is without warmth, as there is also another kind, which is produced and warmed by charity. The one has its seat in knowledge, the other in the affections. If, in fact, you look into yourself under the light of truth and without dissimulation, and judge unflatteringly of yourself, there is no doubt that you will be humbled, even in your own eyes, and that this true know- ledge of yourself will render you more vile in your own sight, although, perhaps, you cannot as yet endure that this should be the case in the sight of others. You will then be humble, but as yet only by the working of truth, and not at all by the inpouring of love; for if you had been, in addition to the working of truth, which has shown you to yourself in a manner veracious and salutary, affected equally by love, you would without doubt have wished, as far as in you was, that others should have the same opinion of you as you know that the Truth has. I should say that He is nevertheless in you, for it is often inexpedient that all which we know ourselves should be known to others, and we are forbidden by the love of truth itself, as also by the truth of love, to wish to discover to another that which would do him injury. But if you are restrained by self-love, and induced to keep hidden the judgment which truth has formed of you, who can doubt that your love of the truth is imperfect, since you make it subordinate to your own interest or your own reputation?

7. You see clearly, then, that it is not the same thing whether a man, being constrained by light and knowledge, has a lowly opinion of himself, and whether he is assisted by the grace of charity, and accepts a humble position with willingness; for the one is enforced, the other voluntary. He emptied Himself says the Apostle, and took upon Him the form of a servant (Phil. ii. 7), thus giving to us a perfect form and model of humility. He emptied Himself, He humbled Himself, not from any necessity of fact or judgment, but by charity towards us. He was able to appear vile and despicable in the eyes of men without thinking Himself so, because He knew Himself well. He was, then, voluntarily humble, and not because He was judged to deserve so to be; He presented Himself as if He had been such, as He knew Himself not, in fact, to be; but though He was not unmindful that He was the Highest, yet He preferred to be regarded as the least of all. He said, in fact: Learn of Me% for I am meek and lowly in heart (Matt. xi. 29). He says 'in heart,' in the feeling of the heart — that is, in the will; and in saying this He excludes all idea of necessity, for although I or you find ourselves, in truth, worthy of disgrace and contempt, worthy of the lowest rank and of the worst treatment, worthy even of stripes and punishment, yet it was not thus, it was far otherwise with Him; yet He endured all these things, and as one humble in heart, because He chose so to do —that is to say, He was humble with the humility which was prompted by the kindness of His heart, not enforced by the verdict of truth.

8. For this reason I have said that this kind of voluntary humility is not produced in us by the logical force of truth, but is created within us by the inpouring of charity, because it comes of the heart, the affections, the will; whether I have spoken rightly you must judge. Consider also whether I have been right in attributing it to the Lord, inasmuch as it is clear that it was charity which led Him to empty Himself, to become a little lower than the Angels, to be subject to [those who were supposed His] parents, to bend His head under the hands of the Baptist, to endure the weaknesses of the flesh, to submit at length to death, and that the ignominious death of the Cross. I submit to your judgment again, whether I have been right in deciding that this humility, thus warmed by charity, is denoted by spikenard, which is a herb unassuming in appearance and of a warm nature. And if you assent to both these opinions, which I think you will do, as they are supported by very plain reasons, then, if you feel yourself humbled by that forced humility which the Truth, who searcheth the very hearts and reins, produces in the senses of a soul that is watchful, make a virtue of this necessity, and add to your humility a glad and willing acquiescence, since there is no true virtue without the assent of the will.1 That will be the case if you are unwilling to appear otherwise to the outward eye than you find yourself to be inwardly. Otherwise you may well fear lest that which you read in a psalm shculd apply to you: He flattereth himself in his own eyes, until his iniquity be found to be hateful (Ps. xxxvi. 2). And again: Divers weights and divers measures both of them are alike abomination to the Lord (Pro v. xx. 10). What! do you at the bottom of your heart think lowly of yourself because you weigh yourself in the balance of truth, and yet outwardly you wish to deceive, to be regarded as of greater value, and to sell yourself at a higher price than that at which the truth values you? Have regard to the judgment of God; do not by any means commit this most discreditable action of exalting yourself by your own selflove, while the truth requires you to be abased, for this is to resist the truth; this is even to fight against God. Rather acquiesce in the Divine conclusion. Let your will be rendered submissive to truth, and not merely submissive, but willingly and devotedly so. Shall not my soul, says the Psalmist, be subject to God f (Ps. lxi. 1, Douay).

9. But it is not enough to be subject to God, unless you are subject also to every human creature for the sake of God; whether to the Abbot, as to the superior of all, or to the Priors, as authorities constituted by him. I say even more than this: I say, subject to your equals, and even to those who are inferior to you. For thus it becometh us, says the Lord Himself, to fulfil all righteousness (Matt, iii. 15). If, then, you wish to be perfect in righteousness, make the first step towards him who is less than you; defer to your inferior, show respect towards your junior. For in doing this you shall make the words of the Bride apply to you: My spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof. That perfume is devotion; it is the holy and saintly reputation which you obtain with all persons, so that you are a good odour of Jesus Christ in every place, visible to all, and by all regarded with affection. He whom truth alone obliges to be humble can never reach this degree of perfection, since his humility is only for himself, and does not flow forth to reach and delight others. It has, in fact, no odour, because it has no devotion, inasmuch as such humility is not voluntary and spontaneous, but enforced. But the humility of the Bride is like sweet perfume, and diffuses its fragrance, warm 1 Convenientia voluntatis. Another reading is conniventia voluntatis.

with love and devotedness, and redolent of sweetness to all. The humility of the Bride is spontaneous, constant, fruitful, and it is as unaffected by severity as by praises. To her it had been said: Thy cheeks are beautifid as those of a turtle dove, thy neck as a string of pearls. She had received also the promise of golden ornaments, and yet she replies with humility; the more she is raised up, the more humble she is in all respects. She does not boast of her merits, nor in the midst of the praises of herself which she receives is she at all forgetful of humility, which, indeed, she frankly avows, speaking of it under the name of spikenard. She speaks in the language of the Blessed Virgin Mary: 'I am conscious of no merit deserving of so great a condescension, except that God hath regarded the low estate of His handmaiden ' (Luke i. 48). For what is the signification of these words, My spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof except this, * My humility hath found favour in His sight '? 4 Not my wisdom,' she says, in effect, ' not my nobleness, not my fairness, for these in me were nothing worth, but my humility, the only quality which was mine, it was this which gave forth its odour '; that is to say, that odour which was customary to it. Humility is accustomed to please God, and the Lord, who is high above all, is wont, according to His custom, to regard those things which are humble. Therefore when the King sitteth at His table, that is, when He is in His lofty habitation, the odour of humility ascends thither. He dwelleth on high, saith the Psalmist; He humbleth Himself to behold the things that are in heaven and in the earth (Ps. cxiii. 5, 6).

10. When, then, the King is in His habitation, the spikenard of the Bride gives forth its odour. The habitation of the King is the Bosom of the Father, for the Son is always in the Father. Doubt not, then, that this King is ever merciful, since His abiding-place continually is the home of Fatherly goodness. It is no wonder that the cry of the humble, rising up, reaches Him, who dwells always in the fountain-head of mercy, to whom gentleness and goodness are familiar, are natural, yea, are consubstantial with Him, who derives all that He is from the Father, so that the trembling glance of the humble penitent, looking up to Him. sees nothing in Him which is not fatherly. Therefore it is that for the oppression of the poor, for the sighing of the needy, now will I arise, saith the Lord (Ps. xii. 6). This the Bride knows, because she is of the household of the Lord and is His beloved; she believes that her poorness in merits will not exclude1 her from the Bridegroom's grace, and she puts her confidence in humility alone. She calls Him 'the King/ for she is terrified by the reproof she has received, and does not venture to call Him her Bridegroom. Nevertheless, though she confesses that He dwells in a high and lofty place, her humility does not lose confidence.

11. It is possible to apply this discourse, and that with much fitness, to the Primitive Church. If you recall the days in which the

Lord ascended up where He was before, and sat on the Right Hand of the Father, in His ancient, august, and glorious dwelling-place, you remember how the disciples assembled with one accord in one place, continuing in prayer with the women, and Mary the Mother of Jesus, and with His brethren (Acts i. 13, 14). Does it not seem to you that in truth that was a time when the Bride, though so young and so fearful as yet, gave forth the odour of her spikenard? Again, when suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting (Acts ii. 2), could she not, though so poor and undistinguished, have taken into her lips these words: When the King sitteth at His table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof 1 Assuredly it appeared to all who abode in that place, how sweet and how acceptable was that fragrance of humility which ascended to heaven, since it was immediately replied to with gifts so copious and so magnificent as a response. And she was not ungrateful for such a benefit. For listen how in her fervour of gratitude she shows herself to be prepared to suffer all possible evils for the Name of Jesus, for what words follow? A bundle of myrrh is my Well-beloved unto me; He shall lie behvixt my breasts. But my weakness, which you know, does not permit me to go on longer. This only I add, that by the mention of myrrh she denotes that for affection to her Beloved she is prepared to endure bitter trials and persecutions. The rest of the verse we will finish another time; if, that is to say, you obtain for me by your intercessions the assistance of the Holy Spirit, to enable me to understand and to interpret the words of the Bride, which He Himself, by His holy inspiration, has originated, and to grant unto me words befitting the praises of Him of whom He is the Spirit: I mean the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is above all, God blessed for ever. Amen.