Sermons on the Song of Songs

I, however, who am but a sinner, instead of desiring to be dissolved, am rather terrified at the thought of it, as knowing that “the death of the wicked is very evil.” How can death be other than very evil, if He Who is our Life is not at hand to deliver us? I am afraid to die, I am seized with trembling terror under the very portal of death, because I have no assurance that He is standing nigh to receive me at my exit from the body. What? Can I expect to make that exit in safety, if the Lord does not “keep my going out”? Alas! I shall become the sport of the demons, who are waiting to intercept me, unless He be at hand “to redeem and to save.” No such fears could trouble the soul of St. Paul. He was divided from the vision and the embrace of the Beloved by only a single wall, namely, by the “law of sin” which he found in his members. This law of sin is the “concupiscence of the flesh,” which he could not be without so long as he lived in the flesh. But the obstruction of this one wall did not remove the Lord far off from him. Hence that yearning cry, “Who will deliver me from the body of this death?” For he knew that the short passage of death would bring him straight to life. St. Paul therefore confessed that there was but one wall in his way, that is, the law of concupiscence irremovably planted in his flesh, and to which he submitted unwillingly. As for the rest, he could say, “I am conscious to myself of nothing.”

But which of us, my brethren, is like St. Paul, in that he does not sometimes consent to this concupiscence “so as to obey the lusts thereof”? Now he who has consented to sin should know that by this unlawful and wicked act he has enclosed himself within a second wall. Therefore, such a one cannot boast like the Spouse that the Bridegroom is standing behind his wall, since it is no longer one wall that makes the division, but two. Much less can he make this boast, if the internal consent issues in the external act of sin, because the Bridegroom’s approach is now obstructed and prevented by a third wall, namely, the fulfilment of an evil purpose. But what, if by repetition the act of sin hardens into a habit, and the habit of sin induces contempt, as it is written, “The wicked, when he is come into the depth of sins, contemneth”? Shouldst thou happen to die in this state, O my brother, what is there to prevent thee from being devoured a thousand times by “the lions roaring, ready for their prey,” before thou canst reach the Bridegroom Who is parted from thee, not by one, but by a numerous succession of walls? The first wall is concupiscence; the second, consent; the third, the external act of sin; the fourth, the habit of sin; the fifth, the callousness of contempt. Be careful, then, to resist the first of these, namely, concupiscence, with all thy power, lest otherwise it should lead thee to consent. If thou art faithful here, the malignant one can set up no other wall against thee. There shall consequently be nothing but the wall of the flesh between thy Beloved and thee to prevent His access. Thus shalt thou also be able to glory with the Spouse, and to say of the Bridegroom, “Behold He standeth behind our wall.”

But there is another matter which thou shouldst attend to with all possible vigilance. Thou must see to it that the Beloved shall always find wide open the windows and the lattices of thy confessions, if I may so speak, so that through these openings He may regard thee within with a gracious glance. For His regard is thy progress. Lattices (cancelli) are narrow windows, which persons who make a business of writing cause to be opened in the wall, in order to obtain light for their work. Hence, as I believe, the name “chancellors” is given to those who have the office of drawing up charters and other formal instruments. Now there are two species of confession, the one consisting in a sorrowful declaration of our sins, the other in a gladsome acknowledgment of the divine benefits. Whenever, therefore, I make that confession which is always accompanied with anguish (angustia) of heart—I mean the confession of sin—it appears to me that I have opened the lattice, that is to say, the narrow window (angustiorem fenestram). Nor can there be any doubt that He who stands behind the wall as a loving Observer, will gladly avail Himself of this aperture and look in upon me, because “a contrite and humbled heart God will not despise.” He Himself has told me to open my lattice for Him, saying by His Prophet, “Do thou first confess thy iniquities, that thou mayst be justified.” But if occasionally my heart dilates under the influence of charity and, thinking of the divine condescension and compassion, I feel moved to let my soul expand in the confession of praise and thanksgiving, at such times I may be truly said to open, not now the lattice, but the widest of my windows, for the sake of the Bridegroom Who stands behind the wall. And I think He will look in through this ampler opening the more willingly in proportion as the “sacrifice of praise glorifieth” Him more. I could easily discover Scripture testimonies relating to both these confessions. But I am speaking to persons who are too well informed to have any need of such evidence. And it would be very unreasonable in us to burden ourselves with superfluities, considering that we have scarcely time for the investigation of what is necessary, namely, the secrets of this celestial love-song, and the praises of the Church therein celebrated, and of the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ Our Lord, Who is over all things, God blessed for ever. Amen.