St. Bernard of Clairvaux
Sermons on the Song of Songs
Volume I › Sermon XXVII · Part 3 of 4
In What Sense the Beauty of the Spouse May Be Compared to the Curtains of Solomon
Indeed, my brethren, it seems to me that every soul which is animated by such sentiments, is not only heavenly by reason of her origin, but may even herself be justly called a heaven, on account of her imitation of the life above. For it is then she clearly shows herself to be heaven-sprung, when her “conversation is in heaven.” Consequently, each holy soul may be considered as a heaven in herself, wherein the intellect is as the sun, faith as the moon, and the different virtues as the stars. Or perhaps I might call zeal for justice, or fervent charity the sun, and continence the moon. For just as we are told that all the glory of the moon is borrowed from the sun, so continence has no merit, independent of justice and charity. Hence, the Wise Man exclaims, “Oh how beautiful is the chaste generation with glory!” That is to say, with charity. Nor do I think I have erred in calling the virtues the stars of the soul. A little reflection makes manifest the aptness of the image. For as the stars glitter in the night and fade by day, in the same manner, true virtue often lies concealed in the day of prosperity, but shines out resplendent in the night of adversity. This occultation of virtue is due to prudence, as its manifestation is enforced by necessity. Therefore, since virtues are stars, the virtuous man may rightly be called a heaven. For surely we are not to suppose that when as we read, God said through His Prophet, “Heaven is My seat,” He meant this visible and changeable heaven above us, and not rather that of which the Scriptures more clearly speak elsewhere, telling us that “The soul of the just man is the seat of wisdom.” Now, he who understands from the teaching of Christ that God is a Spirit requiring to be adored in spirit, will certainly not hesitate to assign to Him also a spiritual seat. And I would confidently maintain that such a seat is to be assigned Him, not less in the soul of the just man than in the angelic spirit. I am especially confirmed in this view by the Saviour’s faithful promise, “We,” viz., the Father and Himself, “will come to him,” that is, to the holy soul, “and will make Our abode with him.” It is, as I think, of the same heaven that the Prophet also spoke when he said, “But thou dwellest in the holy place, the Praise of Israel.” And St. Paul evidently refers to it when he prays that “Christ may dwell by faith in your hearts.”
Nor should it surprise us, my brethren, that the Lord Jesus delights to dwell in the heaven of the just human soul, which He not only called into being by His omnipotence, as the other spirits, but He fought to acquire it, and He died to redeem it. Hence, after His labour, when He had now attained the object of His desire, He exclaimed, “This is My rest for ever and ever, here will I dwell because I have chosen it.” And blessed is that soul to which it is said, “Come My chosen one, and I will place My throne in thee.” But now, “Why art thou sad, O my soul, and why dost thou trouble me?” Dost thou not think that even thou canst find in thyself a seat for the Lord? But what seat have we in ourselves befitting such glory, suitable to such Majesty? Would to God I were worthy even to “adore in the place where His Feet have stood”! Who will grant me at least to follow faithfully in the footsteps of some holy soul which “He hath chosen for His dwelling”? Yet, oh, that He would deign to anoint my soul, too, with the unction of His mercy, and so to “stretch it out like a curtain,” which, when oiled, is easily extended! Then should I also be able to sing, “I have run the way of Thy commandments, when Thou didst enlarge my heart.” And perchance, I might be able to show Him in myself, if not “a large dining-room furnished” where He might recline with His disciples, at least a place “where to rest His Head.” At any rate, I shall lift up my eyes from my lowly station to those blessed ones of whom it is said, “I will dwell in them and walk in them.”
Oh, how great is the amplitude, how great the merit and the prerogative of that soul which is found worthy to receive and sufficient to contain in herself the presence of the Divinity! What must be her dimensions, since she is required to include spacious recreation-grounds for the Divine Majesty to walk in! Certainly, such a soul does not entangle herself in litigation, or in worldly solicitudes. Neither does she give herself up to the delights of the flesh or the pleasures of the table. There is found no place in her for the ambition to rule, no pride of domination. For the soul that would become a heaven, a dwelling of God, must, in the first place, be entirely free from all these passions. Otherwise, how could she obey His command, “be still and see that I am God”? But it is also necessary to renounce hatred, and envy, and rancour, “for wisdom will not enter into a malicious soul.” It is further requisite that the soul should grow and expand in order to make room in herself for the Divine Immensity. Now, love is the enlargement of the soul, as the Apostle says, “Be enlarged in charity.” For although, as a spirit, she does not admit of corporeal expansion, yet, what nature denies her in the material sense, she acquires spiritually through grace. She therefore both increases and expands, but in a manner consonant with her spiritual nature. She increases not in substance but in virtue. She increases also in glory, “and groweth up into an holy temple in the Lord.” She increases, lastly, and develops “unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the age of the fulness of Christ.” Consequently, the magnitude of every soul is to be estimated in accordance with the degree of charity which she possesses, so that, the soul, for instance, which has great charity should be regarded as great, and the soul with little charity as little, and the soul possessing no charity, as nothing. Hence the Apostle declares, “If I have not charity, I am nothing.” But if a soul begins to have charity, albeit in some very low degree, but so much at any rate as gives the good will to salute her brethren, and those who salute her, I should call that soul not nothing, but next to nothing, because she retains at least this social affection, exhibited and consisting in such an interchange of courtesies. Yet I might ask in the words of the Lord, what more does she do? Neither ample nor great, but narrow and little, should I therefore esteem a soul of this kind, which I recognised to be so little in charity.
Source: Sermons on the Song of Songs (eCatholic2000)