Tag: St Bernard of Clairvaux

Blessed Gerard of Clairvaux

Today’s liturgical memorial of Blessed Gerard is relatively unknown among us except for those who follow the Benedictine and Cistercian charism. Blessed Gerard is the second eldest blood brother of Saint Bernard. History reveals to us that Gerard followed Bernard to Clairvaux where he became his cellarer. Gerard initially refused to enter the monastery but later received the habit at Cîteaux in 1112; and then followed his brother to make a monastic foundation at Clairvaux in 1115. There he served as the competent and virtuous cellarer for the Cistercian community. We know that Gerard was Bernard’s confidant and assistant. The feast was originally on January 30, but settled on today’s date, but sometimes you have his feast on June 14.

Deeply grieved at Dom Gerard’s death, Bernard lamented his passing in these tender words:

… a loyal companion has left me alone on the pathway of life: he who was so alert to my needs, so enterprising at work, so agreeable in his ways. Who was ever so necessary to me? Who ever loved me as he? My brother by blood, but bound to me more intimately by religious profession. Share my mourning with me, you who know these things. I was frail in body and he sustained me, faint of heart and he gave me courage, slothful and negligent and he spurred me on, forgetful and improvident and he gave me timely warning. Why has he been torn from me? Why snatched from my embraces, a man of one mind with me, a man according to my heart? We loved each other in life: how can it be that death separates us? And how bitter the separation that only death could bring about! While you lived when did you ever abandon me? It is totally death’s doing, so terrible a parting…How much better for me then, O Gerard, if I had lost my life rather than your company, since through your tireless inspiration, your unfailing help and under your provident scrutiny I persevered with my studies of things divine. Why, I ask, have we loved, why have we lost each other?

Text from Bernard to Clairvaux’s Sermon 26: On The Song of Songs.

The Savior and the honey bees

Great and Holy Friday seems like a day to post this intriguing picture of the crucified Lord, St Bernard and honey bees. Surely you can connect the dots. The Passion of the Lord –a supreme act of love, is called to mind and hence by the Cross we are saved. Particular thanks to Aurelius Belz, a researcher in the cultural history of musical instruments, for publishing this “find” on his blog.

From the Liturgy of St. Basil the Great we are educated: “… He [Jesus] surrendered himself as a ransom to death by which we were held captive, sold into slavery under sin. Descending by the cross into Hades to fulfill all things in himself, he freed us from Death’s despair, and rose on the third day, preparing the way for the resurrection of all flesh from the dead…”

Honey bees ascend to the side wound of Jesus.

Mr. Belz writes: “It should be noted here in relation to the medal that the encounter of a bee colony with the Savior has a significant precursor. Both on an altar sheet (private property, Germany) and in Josef Meglinger’s Cistercineser Year, published in 1700 in print, we see Bernard of Clairvaux –who received the epithet doctor mellifluus due to his honey-flowing sermons– with a beehive in front of an altar with the crucified. The bees ascend to the side wound of Jesus and on a banner we find the text. “Nil cogitatur dulcius quam JESUS Dei Filius”, nothing sweeter can be thought of than Jesus, the Son of God. The flowers on the altar are symbolic bearers of meaning, so the lily stands for innocence, the rose for love and the sunflower, which always turns to the light, for permanence in faith. (Josef Meglinger, Cistercienser Year, 1700)

St. Bernard is the famous abbot of the Cistercian Benedictine reform. He’s the patron saint of beekeepers as well as the patron saint of bees and candlemakers. The image connected with this post is Bernard of Clairvaux, circa 1090 – 20.8.1153, French monk, saint, full length, copper engraving, Germany, circa 1700, Marienthal Abbey library.

On a personal note, St. Bernard has been invoked as one of the patron saints of my apiary.

Living on the edge of eternity

The following reflection was written for members of the Order of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem and published on one of the Facebook groups of the Order.

In a week’s time we will be celebrating the Nativity of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. A fact. An experience of Faith. The Fathers of the Church teach us that the Incarnation means that God Who is incomprehensible and inexpressible lowered Himself in His mercy taking human nature to not only restore what Adam lost, but to offer us the possibility of our participation in His divine nature. This participation is what we call theosis.

Here is something for us to think about as we prepare for the Nativity of the Lord. There’s a Divine promise contained in the event of the Incarnation. The following homily for Advent delieverd by St. Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153) notes for us the contours of the promise.

“We know that there are three comings of the Lord. The third lies between the other two. It is invisible, while the other two are visible.“In the first coming he was seen on earth, dwelling among men; he himself testifies that they saw him and hated him. In the final coming all flesh will see the salvation of our God, and they will look on him whom they pierced. The intermediate coming is a hidden one; in it only the elect see the Lord within their own selves, and they are saved. In his first coming our Lord came in our flesh and in our weakness; in this middle coming he comes in spirit and in power; in the final coming he will be seen in glory and majesty.

“In case someone should think that what we say about this middle coming is sheer invention, listen to what our Lord himself says: If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him [Jn. 14:23].

“There is another passage of Scripture which reads: He who fears God will do good, but something further has been said about the one who loves, that is, that he will keep God’s word. Where is God’s word to be kept? Obviously in the heart, as the prophet says: I have hidden your words in my heart, so that I may not sin against you.

“Keep God’s word in this way. Let it enter into your very being, let it take possession of your desires and your whole way of life. Feed on goodness, and your soul will delight in its richness. Remember to eat your bread, or your heart will wither away. Fill your soul with richness and strength.

“Because this coming lies between the other two, it is like a road on which we travel from the first coming to the last. In the first, Christ was our redemption; in the last, he will appear as our life; in this middle coming, he is our rest and consolation.

“If you keep the word of God in this way, it will also keep you. The Son with the Father will come to you. The great Prophet who will build the new Jerusalem will come, the one who makes all things new. This coming will fulfill what is written: As we have borne the likeness of the earthly man, we shall also bear the likeness of the heavenly man. Just as Adam’s sin spread through all mankind and took hold of all, so Christ, who created and redeemed all, will glorify all, once he takes possession of all” (Office of Readings, Wednesday, First week of Advent).

St. Bernard’s theological reflection can be said as follows:

~First Coming – Jesus’ birth at Bethlehem;

~Second Coming – Spiritual coming of the Lord to each believer, sacramentally;

~Third Coming – Jesus coming again at the end of the world.

In what ways does what St. Bernard impact our our lives as members of the Order of the Holy Sepulchre? Hopefully, it re-orients how we live the reality of our sacramental life, and to give good witness to the Good News. As Knights and Dames of Holy Sepulchre we may want to consider what we are looking forward to on December 25th and in the Octave that follows.

Advent is a time of waiting for the Messiah: we wait for God to come into our lives, in reality. Christmas teaches us that sentimentality isn’t the goal, but the Infinite God is. The Word made flesh, the Incarnation, is the center of time and energy today.

However busy or distracted you might be in the coming days before Christmas, take note of what St. Bernard says about the coming of the Messiah, and the think about promise it contains for us. It is not merely a theological reflection, it is an experience.

Take courage, live in peace.

Artwork: The Nativity by Marco Foppoli, a heraldic artist and illustrator living and working in Brescia, Italy.

All Saints

We are called to be saints. “The saint is not an isolated individual. There is no sanctity without belonging.” Today is the feast proposed by the Latin Church by which we realize that sanctity is the vocation to which we all are called. (The Byzantine Church celebrates the Sunday after Pentecost as All Saints Day.)

From a sermon by St. Bernard: “Calling the saints to mind inspires, or rather arouses in us, above all else, a longing to enjoy their company, so desirable in itself. We long to share in the citizenship of heaven, to dwell with the spirits of the blessed.

Come, brothers, let us at length spur ourselves on. We must rise again with Christ, we must seek the world which is above and set our mind on the things of heaven. Let us long for those who are longing for us, hasten to those who are waiting for us, and ask those who look for our coming to intercede for us.”

Here’s the point of the Christian life on earth and in heaven, and the point of sanctity which we recognize in the saints: “a longing to enjoy their company” in the communio of the Divine Majesty.  But in order to get to the point of a communio with God there are things we have to work on. What are our desires? Are our desires purified or are they riddled with disordered affections? Do we have a poverty of spirit? Do we want to dwell with the spirits of the blessed? Or, are we satisfied with our current circumstances? Do we speak of divine things, things of God, or are we obsessed with the things of this world (gossip, self-centeredness, personal sin, anger, etc.)?

Saying ‘yes’ to Christ is saying yes to being in communion with Him, to love Him above all else, to follow in the footsteps of the saints. Having the companionship of the saints shows us the path to the beatific life. The saint is the ‘the saint is the true man.’ Do you want to be true?

Holy Guardian Angels

Today is the liturgical memorial of the Holy Guardian Angels. Do you ask your Guardian Angel to help you, to guide you, to protect you at least daily if not more than once during the day?

The following text is from a sermon of St Bernard of Clairvaux, “That they might guard you in all your ways”:

He has given his angels charge over you to guard you in all your ways. Let them thank the Lord for his mercy; his wonderful works are for the children of men. Let them give thanks and say among the nations, the Lord has done great things for them. O Lord, what is man that you have made yourself known to him, or why do you incline your heart to him? And you do incline your heart to him; you show him your care and your concern. Finally, you send your only Son and the grace of your Spirit, and promise him a vision of your countenance. And so, that nothing in heaven should be wanting in your concern for us, you send those blessed spirits to serve us, assigning them as our guardians and our teachers.

He has given his angels charge over you to guard you in all your ways. These words should fill you with respect, inspire devotion and instil confidence; respect for the presence of angels, devotion because of their loving service, and confidence because of their protection. And so the angels are here; they are at your side, they are with you, present on your behalf. They are here to protect you and to serve you. But even if it is God who has given them this charge, we must nonetheless be grateful to them for the great love with which they obey and come to help us in our great need.

So let us be devoted and grateful to such great protectors; let us return their love and honour them as much as we can and should. Yet all our love and honour must go to him, for it is from him that they receive all that makes them worthy of our love and respect.

We should then, my brothers, show our affection for the angels, for one day they will be our co-heirs just as here below they are our guardians and trustees appointed and set over us by the Father. We are God’s children although it does not seem so, because we are still but small children under guardians and trustees, and for the present little better than slaves.

Even though we are children and have a long, a very long and dangerous way to go, with such protectors what have we to fear? They who keep us in all our ways cannot be overpowered or led astray, much less lead us astray. They are loyal, prudent, powerful. Why then are we afraid? We have only to follow them, stay close to them, and we shall dwell under the protection of God’s heaven.

Something more in the forest than books

Believe in my experience, you will find something more in the forest than in the books. The woods and the rocks will take you to what you cannot learn from any master. Do not you think that you can suck the honey from a stone and oil from the hardest rock? Do no the mountains distill the sweetness? Do not milk and honey flow from hills, and do not valleys contain wheat in abundance?

Letter from Bernard of Clairvaux to Abbe Vauclair (12th century).

God’s mercy reaches us

Let Your goodness Lord appear to us, that we,
made in your image, conform ourselves to it.
In our own strength
we cannot imitate Your majesty, power, and wonder
nor is it fitting for us to try.
But Your mercy reaches from the heavens
through the clouds to the earth below.
You have come to us as a small child,
but you have brought us the greatest of all gifts,
the gift of eternal love
Caress us with Your tiny hands,
embrace us with Your tiny arms
and pierce our hearts with Your soft, sweet cries.

a Christmas Prayer attributed to Saint Bernard

St Bernard of Clairvaux

St BernardI always look forward, for some reason, to the feast day of Saint Bernard of Clairvaux. Not sure why, but it may have something to do with marking the progress of the summer (just like the Transfiguration and the Assumption does) but also because his youthful calling to serve God in a profound way is a true inspiration.

Of the saint it is said:

You are the light of the world. A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket; it is set on a lampstand, where it gives light to all in the house. Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.

The historians tell us that Bernard, at 22, together with his four  brothers, and 25 friends, joined the relatively new abbey of Citeaux; we also know that his father and another brother joined him.

Early in his monastic life he was called upon to be an abbot founding the Abbey of Clairvaux. In time, his abbey had over 700 monks with 160 daughter houses. Bernard was the one to give the Cistercian reform of Benedictine monasticism its vitality.

His doctrine was clear and straight-forward. His sermons were of the highest quality. His pastoral work included fighting the Albigensian heresy, helping the Second Crusade, ending the schism of anti-Pope Anacletus II, and teaching monks among whom was the future Blessed Pope Eugene III. Bernard was an ardent lover of the Blessed Virgin Mary and called himself “Beatae Mariae cappellane” – the Blessed Virgin Mary’s Chaplain.

Pope Pius VIII called Bernard the “Mellifluous Doctor” for his eloquence and named him a Doctor of the Church

Here is a sermon:

I love because I love, I love that I may love

Love is sufficient of itself, it gives pleasure by itself and because of itself. It is its own merit, its own reward. Love looks for no cause outside itself, no effect beyond itself. Its profit lies in its practice. I love because I love, I love that I may love. Love is a great thing so long as it continually returns to its fountainhead, flows back to its source, always drawing from there the water which constantly replenishes it. Of all the movements, sensations and feelings of the soul, love is the only one in which the creature can respond to the Creator and make some sort of similar return however unequal though it be. For when God loves, all he desires is to be loved in return; the sole purpose of his love is to be loved, in the knowledge that those who love him are made happy by their love of him.

The Bridegroom’s love, or rather the love which is the Bridegroom, asks in return nothing but faithful love. Let the beloved, then, love in return. Should not a bride love, and above all, Love’s bride? Could it be that Love not be loved?

Rightly then does she give up all other feelings and give herself wholly to love alone; in giving love back, all she can do is to respond to love. And when she has poured out her whole being in love, what is that in comparison with the unceasing torrent of that original source? Clearly, lover and Love, soul and Word, bride and Bridegroom, creature and Creator do not flow with the same volume; one might as well equate a thirsty man with the fountain.

What then of the bride’s hope, her aching desire, her passionate love, her confident assurance? Is all this to wilt just because she cannot match stride for stride with her giant, any more than she can vie with honey for sweetness, rival the lamb for gentleness, show herself as white as the lily, burn as bright as the sun, be equal in love with him who is Love? No. It is true that the creature loves less because she is less. But if she loves with her whole being, nothing is lacking where everything is given. To love so ardently then is to share the marriage bond; she cannot love so much and not be totally loved, and it is in the perfect union of two hearts that complete and total marriage consists. Or are we to doubt that the soul is loved by the Word first and with a greater love?

Connecting truth and mercy

It can be said, growing in the truth means learning mercy.  The Office of Readings today proposed this reading for the 3rd Sunday of Lent from Saint Bernard, written in 1119, speaks to us particularly in this Year of Mercy.

St Bernard: From the treatise on the Degrees of Humility and Pride

‘Knowledge of the truth comprises three degrees, which I will try to set out as briefly as possible. In the first place we seek truth in ourselves; then we seek it in our neighbour, and last of all we search for truth in its own essential nature. We discover truth in ourselves when we pass judgement on ourselves; we find it in our neighbour when we suffer in sympathy with others; we search out its own nature by contemplation in purity of heart.

Notice not only the number of these degrees, but also their order.  Before we inquire into the nature of truth, Truth itself must first teach us to seek it in our neighbour.  Then we shall understand why, before we find it in our neighbour, we must seek it in ourselves. The sequence of the beatitudes given in the Sermon on the Mount places the merciful before the pure in heart. The merciful are those who are quick to see truth in their neighbour; they reach out to others in compassion and identify with them in love, responding to the joys and sorrows in the lives of others as if they were their own. They make themselves weak with the weak, and burn with indignation when others are led astray.  They are always ready to share the joys of those who rejoice and the sorrows of those who mourn.

Men and women whose inner vision has thus been cleansed by the exercise of charity toward  their neighbour can delight in the contemplation of truth in itself, for it is love of truth which makes them take upon themselves the misfortunes of others. But can people find the truth in their neighbour if they refuse to support their brothers and sisters in this way – if on the contrary they either scoff at their tears or disparage their joys, being insensitive to all feelings but their own?  There is a popular saying which well suits them: A healthy person cannot feel the pains of sickness, nor can one who is well-fed feel the pangs of hunger. The more familiar we are with sickness or hunger, the greater will be our compassion for others who are sick or hungry.

Just as pure truth can only be seen by the pure in heart, so the sufferings of our fellow men and women are more truly felt by hearts that know suffering themselves. However, we cannot sympathise with the wretchedness of others until we first recognise our own. Then we shall understand the feelings of others by what we personally feel, and know how to come to their help.  Such was the example shown by our Saviour, who desired to suffer himself in order that he might learn how to show mercy.  Scripture says of him that he learned the meaning of obedience through what he suffered. In the same way he learned the meaning of mercy. Not that the Lord whose mercy is from age to age was ignorant of mercy’s meaning until then; he knew its nature from all eternity, but he learned it by personal experience during his days on earth.’