St. Bernard of Clairvaux
Sermons on the Song of Songs
Volume I › Sermon XXXVIII · Part 1 of 2
On the Manner in Which Ignorance of God Leads to Despair, and on the Beauty of the Spouse
“If thou know not thyself, go forth.”
What is the evil that results from ignorance of God? Here, my brethren, I have to resume the discussion which I interrupted yesterday, and which, if you remember, I had conducted to this point. What, then, is this evil? I have already told you. It is despair. But how does the lack of a knowledge of God lead to despair? This I shall now endeavour to make clear. Imagine, then, a person entering into himself, recalling in the bitterness of his soul all the evils he has done, and purposing to amend, and to abandon all his wicked ways and his carnal conversation. Now, if such a one knows not how good the Lord is, that “He is sweet and mild and bounteous to forgive,” will not his own natural reason become his accuser and say, “What art thou about? Wouldst thou lose both this life and the life to come? Thy sins are heinous in malice and countless in multitude. Thou shalt never be able to atone for crimes so great and so many, no, not even shouldst thou strip the very skin from thy body. Besides, thou art of a weak constitution, thou hast lived delicately, and it will be impossible for thee to conquer the force of habit.” As he does not know how easily all these difficulties would dissolve and vanish before the power of that Omnipotent Goodness, Who desires that none should perish, the poor sinner is driven to despair by such-like arguments, and miserably returns to his former evil courses. The result is final impenitence, which is the greatest of sins, as being, in truth, that blasphemy against the Holy Ghost which shall be forgiven neither here nor hereafter. For either he is overwhelmed and swallowed up by an excess of sadness, which hurries him onward into the abyss, whence he shall never emerge to seek for consolation, as it is written: “The wicked man, when he is come into the depth, contemneth,” that is to say, he makes no effort to deliver himself; or else he deliberately blinds himself to the danger of his state, calms his conscience by some kind of specious reasoning, and plunges again and irrevocably into the pleasures and satisfactions of a worldly life, determined to enjoy to the utmost, and as long as he can, all the good things of this earth. But “when he shall say peace and security, then shall sudden destruction come upon him, as the pains upon her that is with child, and he shall not escape.” In this way, then, from ignorance of God comes the consummation of all malice, which is nothing else but despair.
The Apostle tells us, my brethren, that “some have not the knowledge of God.” But I will venture to say that none of those who refuse to be converted have the knowledge of God. For, unquestionably, the only reason of their unwillingness is that they imagine Him to be cold and austere Who is really kind and loving; Him Who is full of mercy and sweetness they represent to themselves as hard and implacable, cruel and terrible. Thus “iniquity lieth to itself,” and fashions for itself an idol of its own, since the god of its fancy is not the Lord. “Why are you fearful, O ye of little faith?” Are you afraid He will refuse to pardon your sins? But, as St. Paul declares, together with His own Hands they were fastened to the cross. Or is it the thought of penance that terrifies you, who are so tender and delicate? But “He remembereth that we are dust.” Or is it the vices you have contracted and the binding habits of sin? But “the Lord looseth them that are fettered.” Perhaps you are apprehensive lest, provoked by the magnitude and the multitude of your crimes, He should hesitate to extend to you a helping hand? But, according to St. Paul, where sin has abounded grace is wont to superabound. Or finally, is it that you are solicitous about your clothes and your food and the other necessaries of the body, and are therefore reluctant to renounce what you possess? But “your heavenly Father knoweth that you have need of all these things.” What more can you desire? What obstacle remains still in the way of your salvation? But the case is as I have said. You have not the knowledge of God, and you refuse to believe what I tell you of Him. If I could only induce you to credit those at least who speak from experience! For “unless you believe you will not understand.” “But not all have the gift of faith.”
God forbid, my brethren, that we should suppose the Spouse to be warned against this danger, that is to say, against ignorance of God. For she is favoured, I shall not say with so much knowledge of Him Who is at once her Bridegroom and her God, but with so much friendship and familiarity, that she deserves to enjoy frequently His conversation and even His kisses; and now she says to Him with the boldness of an intimate, “Show me where Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day.” Here evidently she begs to be shown, not Himself, but the “place where His glory dwelleth”; although He is not really distinct either from His place or from His glory. But she is considered deserving of a reproof on account of her presumption, and of a warning about self-knowledge, in which she shows herself to be in some degree wanting by esteeming herself capable of a vision so great. This presumptuous request is due, either to the fact that in an ecstasy of love she forgot that she is still in the flesh, or else to the vain hope that, whilst abiding still in the body, she may be able to attain to the inaccessible brightness of the Divinity. Therefore, she is recalled to herself; she is convicted of ignorance and rebuked for her boldness. “If thou know not thyself,” the Bridegroom answers, “go forth.” Thus dreadfully does the Bridegroom thunder against His Spouse, exhibiting Himself here not as a Bridegroom but as a Master. Nor is it out of anger that He so threatens her, but to the end that, being frightened, she may take pains to purge herself of every stain, and thus purified, may be made worthy of the vision for which she longs. For it is only the clean of heart that shall see God.
Rightly, too, she is called “beautiful,” not absolutely and in every sense, but “beautiful amongst women,” that is to say, beautiful with qualifications; and this with the intention of repressing her presumption still more, and that she may learn what is yet wanting to her. For it seems to me that by the name of women are here designated those carnal and worldly souls, which have nothing virile in them, which manifest no strength or constancy in their activities, but in their lives and conduct show themselves entirely lax, soft, and effeminate. The spiritual soul, on the contrary, walks not according to the flesh, but according to the spirit, and so far is already beautiful. Yet, inasmuch as she still lives in the body, she falls short of the perfection of beauty. Hence, she is described, not as absolutely beautiful, but as beautiful amongst women. That is to say, she is beautiful, in comparison with souls which are earthly, and not, like her, spiritual. But she is not beautiful, as compared with the blessed angels, with the Virtues, Powers, or Dominations. Thus, of old, one of the patriarchs was found and called “just in his generation,” that is, just beyond all the other men of his time and generation. Thamar, also, is proclaimed justified as compared with Juda, that is, more just than Juda. Likewise, in the Gospel, the Publican is said to have gone down to his house justified, but justified in comparison with the Pharisee. And finally, in that magnificent eulogium pronounced upon the great Baptist, it is said of him that he is without a superior, but only amongst the children of women, not amongst the choirs of blessed heavenly spirits. In the same way the Spouse is now called beautiful, not in relation to the holy angels, but, at least whilst she sojourns here below, only amongst women.
Source: Sermons on the Song of Songs (eCatholic2000)