St. Bernard of Clairvaux
Sermons on the Song of Songs
Volume II › Sermon LII · Part 2 of 2
On the Mystical Sleep of the Spouse, and the Two Kinds of Ecstasy
Yet this manner of dying is peculiar to men. Therefore, “Let my soul die the death of the angels” also (if I may use the expression), so that escaping from the memory of all present things, she may strip herself, not alone of the desires, but even of the images of inferior and corporeal objects, and may converse spiritually with them whom she resembles in spirituality! The name contemplation, as it seems to me, belongs either solely or principally to such a mental ecstasy. It is the part of human virtue to live on earth unfettered by earthly desires; but to be able to contemplate truth without the help of material or sensible images is the characteristic of angelic purity. Yet each of these two is the gift of God. Each is a true ecstasy. In each the soul rises above herself, but in the second far higher than in the first. Blessed is the soul which can say in this sense, “Lo, I have gone far off, flying away; and I abode in the wilderness”! It is not enough for her that she is transported out of herself, unless she can fly far away and be at rest. Thou hast obtained such a victory over the temptations of the flesh that thou dost no longer gratify its concupiscence nor yield assent to its enticements. This certainly is progress. Thou hast truly gone forth from thyself. But thou hast not yet flown afar, unless, by the purity of thy mind, thou art able to rise above the images of sensible objects, which are constantly rushing in upon thee from every side. Until thou hast attained to this, do not promise thyself any rest. Thou art in error if thou thinkest that the place of repose, the quiet of solitude, the perfection of light, and the dwelling of peace can be found any nearer. But show me the man who has arrived at this point, and I shall unhesitatingly pronounce him to be at rest and qualified to say, “Turn, O my soul, into thy rest; for the Lord hath been bountiful to thee.” Here truly is a home in solitude, and a dwelling in the light, and, according to the Prophet Isaias, “a tabernacle for a shade in the day-time from the heat, and a security and covert from the whirlwind and from the rain.” It is of the same the Psalmist sings, “For He hath hidden me in His tabernacle; in the day of evils He hath protected me in the secret place of His tabernacle.”
It appears to me, therefore, that it is into this solitude the Spouse has retired, and there, overpowered by the beauty of the place, has sweetly fallen asleep in the arms of her Beloved. In other words, she has been visited by the slumber of spiritual rapture, and this is the sleep out of which the young maidens are forbidden to awaken her, until she herself pleases. But let us examine the mode of the Bridegroom’s prohibition. It is not a mere warning, couched in the usual mild and simple language, but is expressed in the form of an earnest entreaty, accompanied with the very strange and solemn adjuration, “by the roes and the harts of the field.” Now these animals are chiefly remarkable for keenness of sight and powers of leaping, and for that reason have been fittingly selected, as I suppose, to symbolise the holy souls which have parted from the body, and the blissful angels who dwell with God. For both orders of spirits are known to be gifted with analogous endowments, whereby they can either soar to the loftiest things or penetrate the most profound. Again, the roes and harts are described as living at large in the open fields, because in this they typify the free and unconfined flights of spiritual contemplation. Why, then, are the young maidens adjured by the harts and the roes? Doubtless, to remind them that they should not through wantonness or levity call away the Spouse from the society of blessed spirits, human and angelic, to which she gains admittance as often as she is rapt in ecstasy. Very properly, therefore, are the daughters kept in check by the authority of these heavenly princes, from whose company, as they know, their importunity will recall their mother. Hence, let the young maidens bear in mind against whom they offend whenever they needlessly disturb the Spouse; and let them not so far presume on her maternal love as to have no fear of intruding rashly into this celestial assembly; and finally, let them know that they are guilty of such irreverence and rudeness every time they oblige their mother, without just cause, to interrupt her contemplation. It is for her alone to determine how much of her time ought to be devoted to the care of herself, and how much to the interests of her daughters. This is plain from the fact that they are not allowed to awaken her until she herself pleases. Well does the Bridegroom know with what ardent charity His beloved is inflamed even with respect to her neighbours, and with what motherly affection she keeps anxious watch over her daughters’ spiritual progress, so that she is always ready and willing to put herself at their service as often as occasion requires. He therefore considers that this administration may be safely entrusted to her prudence. For she is not like so many other superiors whom we may observe to be incurring the Prophet’s malediction, for that they take to themselves the fat and the strong and cast the weak away as nothing worth. Surely it is not the sound whom the physician should seek but rather the ailing. And if sometimes he does visit the hale, it is only as a friend not as a healer. Pray, tell me, good master, whom wilt thou consent to teach, if thou rejectest all that are ignorant? To whom, I ask, wilt thou show thyself a zealous instructor in discipline, if thou avoidest or repellest the wayward? To whom shalt thy patience be proved if, excluding the perverse, thou admittest none but the docile?
Nevertheless, my brethren, “there are some of them that (sit) here,” whom I could wish to see more exactly observing what our present text enjoins. They would not then forget the reverence due to their superiors, whose repose they so often disturb without necessity, and thus make themselves displeasing even to the citizens of heaven; and perhaps they would begin at last to give me also a little more peace than usual, and might not as now intrude upon my leisure with as little good cause as good manners. They are well aware that, even though they treated me with all consideration, the duty of attending to our visitors would seldom leave me an hour to myself. However, I feel somewhat scrupulous about complaining in this manner, lest some pusillanimous soul should overtax her powers of endurance by concealing her necessities, because she is afraid of disturbing me. I shall therefore say no more on the subject. Otherwise, instead of edifying the weak, I should rather appear to be setting them an example of impatience. The “little ones” of the Lord are they who believe in His name. I will not allow them to take scandal from me. I will not make use of my authority to protect myself from their importunity. Let them use me as much as they like. I shall be content, provided only they save their souls. They will spare me most by not sparing me at all; and I shall be never more at ease than when they fearlessly invade my hours of repose for the relief of their necessities. I am determined to accommodate myself to their desires as far as my powers may permit me. So long as I live, I will serve the Lord by serving my brethren “in charity unfeigned.” I will not seek the things that are my own; neither will I judge that to be profitable which advances my personal interests, but rather what is of use to the brotherhood. This only I ask, that my ministry may be made acceptable and fruitful to my brethren. So perhaps, “in the evil day,” I may find mercy, for their sakes, in the eyes of their heavenly Father, and of the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ Our Lord, Who is over all things, God blessed for ever. Amen.
Source: Sermons on the Song of Songs (eCatholic2000)