Sermons on the Song of Songs,

Monastic Studies Series

21

This series contains titles from monastic and ascetical writers

throughout the history of monasticism. Both Eastern and Western
Christian saints and ascetics are featured as the writers of these
classics of spirituality that explore various aspects of the cenobitic
and eremitic lifestyles. Ancient and contemporary exemplars of the
monastic ideal are the subjects and contributors to this series
dedicated to the benefits of religious orders.
Sermons on the Song of Songs, I

By
Gilbert of Hoyland

Translation and Introduction by

Lawrence C. Braceland SJ

1
gorgtas press
2010
Gorgias Press LLC, 180 Centennial Ave., Piscataway, NJ, 08854, USA
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Copyright © 2010 by Gorgias Press LLC
Originally published in 1978
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ISBN 978-1-60724-199-7

This book was first published under the same title by Cistercian
Publications, 1978.

Printed in the United States of America

GILBERT OF HOYLAND

Volume One

ON T H E
SONG O F S O N G S I
 THE WORKS OF
GILBERT of HOYLAND

Translated and introduced by

L A W R E N C E C. B R A C E L A N D SJ
Sermons
on the
Song of Songs, I
For George Bernard Cardinal Flahiff
of the Congregation of Saint Basil

Cui dono lepidum novum libellum

Gilberti sophia styloque bellum?
Bemarde tibi, qui nec aestimabis
Nugas esse meas meum libellum
Ex aevo medio probe politum.
Tu vero sapiens, amore doctus
Jam regis populum Dei modernum
Doctis vocibus atque amore prisco.
Quare Doctor habe novum libellum,
Quare Praesul ames tuum libellum,
Qui cantare velit divinum amorem,
Delectum Dominum per omne saeclum.
 ERRATA

page, line for read

7,7 Sermon Sermons

6,29 little doctor title doctor
26,19 ista inflammat confldit super dilecto
28,6 in impedimentum an impedimentum
35, n.2 de Ford de Forda
n.5 scientifices scientifice
40, n.91 Longergan Lonergan
65, 5 text 'but 'I have 'But I have
, 6 text not found him is not found him' is
86,20 Not such as Not such was
91,19 virtue virtues
,34 Beloved thorugh Beloved through
93,17 its percursor its precursor
99, 29 her humble her humble prudence
102, 27 against Christ again Christ
105, n.5 cliristu christus
121,10 plural, not plural, not because
152,15 should fell asleep should fall asleep
178,15 watchman watchmen
193,9 Cabassut Cabussut

Cistercian Publications regrets that technical difficulties

precluded the use of diacritical accents at the time of publication.
 CONTENTS

Introduction 3
Notes to Introduction 35

SERMON 1 Peace and Leisure 43

SERMON 2 The restless quest 55
SERMON 3 The initiative 65
SERMON 4 Roaming the city of God 73
SERMON 5 Seek with wisdom and affection 85
SERMON 6 The Watchmen's visions 97
SERMON 7 Approach the Beloved 107
SERMON 8 Charity ascends to understanding 117
SERMON 9 Holding fast in love 127
SERMON 10 Holding and beholding 133
SERMON 11 Keeping sabbath free 141
SERMON 12 His shoulders and his breast 149
SERMON 13 Steadfastness with Christ in Crises 155
SERMON 14 The vigil in sleep 165
SERMON 15 Enamored, humbled, and renewed 177

Abbreviations 191
Selected Bibliography 193
 INTRODUCTION

T
O ENCOUNTER a person who makes holiness attractive is
an enviable experience. Such a person was Gilbert of Hoyland,
abbot of Swineshead in Lincolnshire, one of the early
Cistercian authors who shed so much ligh* on the spiritual
life of the twelfth century. These early Cistercians have become well
known to English readers especially through The Mystical Theology of
St Bernard by Etienne Gilson and The Love of Learning and the Desire
for God by Jean Leclercq. Gilson examines the independence and com-
plementarity of the two dominant stars, St Bernard and William of
St Thierry, and points to three secondary stars in the background,
St Aelred of Rievaulx, Gilbert of Hoyland and Isaac of Stella, who
'may serve to designate the three founders and principal interpreters of
what we may fairly call the Cistercian school'. Gilson considers remark-
able the 'similarity of intellectual formation and tastes . . . in men of
so diverse an origin'. This similarity Jean Leclercq largely accounts for
by explaining the formation, sources, and fruits of monastic culture,
for these early Cistercians shared the same devotion to heaven, love of
sacred learning, traditional spirituality, and liberal studies. 1
We do not lack contemporary and modern lives, crit : cal editions and
penetrating studies of Bernard and Aelred, Isaac of Stella and William
of St Thierry, but Gilbert of Hoyland has been less well served. He is
best remembered as the abbot who 'continued' the Sermons of Bernard
on the Canticle of Canticles, in one of which he gave a deeply moving,
personal eulogy of Aelred. Gilbert's sermons, treatises and letters
were published by Mabillon in an edition substantially reliable, accord-
ing to Fr Edmond Mikkers, and subsequently reprinted by Migne.
Though Gilbert deserves a modern critical edition to match the hand-
some new editions of St Bernard and John of Ford, and to complete a
continuous series on the Canticle by three great Cistercians, this trans-
lation has been made from the adequate and available edition
3
4 Gilbert of Hoyland

of Mabillon. 2
The brief details of Gilbert's life and work were judiciously
presented by Fr Edmond Mikkers, editor of Cîteaux. F r o m his
dissertation on Gilbert's Sermons, we have two published excerpts
in Cîteaux and an article on Gilbert in the Dictionnaire de Spiri-
tualité by Fr M. Jean Vuong-dinh-Lam, now a Cistercian abbot in
Vietnam. Fr. Pierre Miquel contributed a brief study on the charac-
teristics of Gilbert's religious experience. Fr Mikkers concludes his
double article with a clear statement of the need for further research
into the work of Gilbert:
If up to the present [1963] his theological and mystical
teaching has been scarcely explored, this may be attributed
not only to general ignorance of monastic theology but
also to the rather difficult style of Gilbert's latinity. In his
work many chapters remain to be considered, for example
questions on Christology, on his teaching and practice of
the virtues, but especially on the mystical life and union
with God. Not only is he a faithful imitator of St Bernard
but also a true witness of the so-called monastic theology
as it flourished in the monasteries of England. 3
Further study is needed on Gilbert's work, written with the insight
and love with which, for example, the life and writings of St Aelred
have been presented. Such a study would explore Gilbert's anthro-
pology and psychology, philosophy and theology, and his use of
Scripture.

GILBERT AND THREE EARLY CISTERCIANS

Gilbert became known not by the name of his monastery in Swineshead

but by the name of Hoyland or Holland, the fenland around the Wash
on the east coast of England. We know neither the date of his birth nor
his country of origin, although authors have claimed him for England,
Scotland, and Ireland. From the beginning he is listed as a monk of
Clairvaux. Whatever his country of origin and the monastery he entered,
Gilbert joined the Cistercians in the lifetime of St Bernard of Clairvaux.
We can trace his relationship with Bernard and Aelred and with a third
early Cistercian, the impressive but less well known Roger, abbot of
Byland. Roger's close connection with Gilbert is sufficient reason to
include his only extant identified work, Lac Parvulorum, with this
translation of the writings of Gilbert.
 Introduction 5

Gilbert and Bernard

Abbot Gilbert died in 1172, nineteen years after the death of the abbot
Bernard of Clairvaux. In recording his death at the monastery of
L'Arrivour, near Troyes in modern France, the Chronicler of Clairvaux
notes Gilbert's distinction in composing his Sermons on the Canticle
after the manner of Blessed Bernard. Derived ultimately from the
Chronicler, the following brief but luminous account is appended to a
manuscript of Gilbert's Sermon:
The reverend, distinguished, most devout and most learned
Father, Dom Gilbert, formerly abbot of Hoyland, in
England, composed the sermons contained in this volume
on the Canticle of Canticles, following with great distinc-
tion and learning the manner and style of Blessed Bernard.5
Three passages in Gilbert indicate his relationship with Bernard. He
read and reverenced Bernard's writing and may have heard the saint in
person. Explaining why he refrains from comment on a passage already
'developed at length and with accuracy', Gilbert pays tribute to Ber-
nard: 'Whether the author be the more remarkable for learning or for
eloquence I know not, but the matter in the pages of his homilies it ill
becomes me to turn over for discussion, pardon me, even with my
little finger'. In a later sermon Gilbert avoids the repetition of Ber-
nard's comment and substitutes comments of his own: 'It is good to
linger among ointments but since enough has been said elsewhere about
their various kinds, let us now briefly distinguish the various ways of
anointing'. In an earlier sermon Gilbert quotes from memory an inter-
pretation of an 'eloquent and learned man', apparently Bernard, but
Gilbert does not hesitate to propose a different interpretation: 'I remem-
ber the explanation of an eloquent and learned man when treating of
this passage: . . . . What he said suited the occasion well enough; he
directed his comment to the advantage of his audience. T o me how-
ever . . . .' 6 We shall return later to the words of the Chronicler and to
Gilbert's relationship with Bernard.

Gilbert and Aelred

Gilbert seems to have had time to assimilate the Cistercian spirit, to

grow to the stature of abbot, and to become eligible for appointment to
Swineshead some time before the year 1150, perhaps as early as 1147.
6 Gilbert of Hoyland

If he had entered Clairvaux even shortly before 5 March 1132, he could

well have left Clairvaux with the founding monks who at that date
settled Rievaulx in Yorkshire. 7 This would account for his deep insight
into and friendship for Aelred (1110-67), who entered Rievaulx f r o m
the Court of King David of Scotland about the year 1134. 8 Aelred
became master of novices at Rievaulx in 1142, was abbot of Revesby
some fifteen miles north of Swineshead, 1143-47, and abbot of Rie-
vaulx from 1147 until his death on 11 January 1167. One of Aelred's
first acts as abbot of Rievaulx was to dispatch a contingent of monks,
one of whom may have been Gilbert, to aid the Savigniacs at Swines-
head in adopting and following the Cistercian observance. 9
An extended sojourn together under the same roof would account
for the quality of Gilbert's eulogy of Aelred, for 'Gilbert of Hoiland
and Jocelin of Furness give the salient traits of Ailred's character more
clearly than Walter Daniel does'. 1 0 In his eulogy shortly after he
received news of Aelred's death, Gilbert writes from personal ac-
quaintance:
I remember how often, when some one in his audience
rudely interrupted the course of his instruction, he stopped
speaking until the other had fully exhausted his breath.
When the gushing torrent of untimely speech had ebbed
away, he would resume his interrupted discourse with the
same calmness with which he waited, for he both spoke
and kept silent as the occasion demanded. He was quick to
listen, slow to speak, but not slow to anger. How can he be
described as slow to anger? Rather I would say he was not
even in the race!
Continuing his praise of Aelred as the 'honeycomb overflowing with
honey', Gilbert gives the substance and significance of the little doctor
mellifluus, later to be conferred on Bernard and Here personified in
Aelred, the Bernard of the North. 1 2 Then with obvious allusion to
Aelred's Spiritual Friendship, composed about the year 1160, Gilbert
proceeds to comment on the distinction between 'friends' and 'dearly
beloved' in texts spoken by the Lord. In the context Gilbert implies
that Aelred was the personification of friendship and 'the most dearly
beloved'. 1 3

Gilbert and Roger of Byland

Aelred received the last rites from Roger of Byland, w h o also preached
his funeral oration. Unlike Aelred, who with the exception of some four
 Introduction 7

years at Revesby spent all his Cistercian life at Rievaulx, Roger was
obliged to move t o many different sites. The monastery he entered, a
daughter house of Savigny in France, was founded at Tulketh on
4 July 1124, and was then moved in 1127 to Furness, that mother of
many daughters including both Byland and Swineshead. 'Roger was one
of the twelve monks who in 1134 (1135) set out with their abbot
Gerald . . . to establish a house at Calder' in Cumberland, where he
became a subcellarer. 'When that foundation was destroyed by the Scots
and the community returned t o take shelter at Furness', they were
'turned adrift and forced t o take shelter in Yorkshire'. The community
settled at Hood in September 1138, at Old Byland in September 1142,
at Stocking in 1147, and finally at New Byland on 30 October 1177. 1 4
Roger became master of novices at Hood. Abbot Gerald had 'tra-
velled to Savigny and at the General Chapter there in 1142, obtained
release from the jurisdiction of Furness but on his way home from the
Chapter died at York. Roger was then elected abbot of Byland in an
unusual way. As novice master, Roger was explaining to his one
novice the observance of the Savigniac Order. Suddenly and unex-
pectedly the monks arrived, rushed towards him and seized him.
Carrying him shoulder high in procession to the altar in the oratory,
they chanted in a loud voice that he was their abbot in the name of the
Trinity'. Continuing 'to rule Byland for the next fifty-four years',
Roger was abbot during the moves from Hood to Old Byland t o Stock-
ing and finally t o New Byland. One move was made because Byland
had been located t o o close to Rievaulx; 'at each hour of the day and
night, both abbeys heard each other's bells' to the confusion especially
of the brethren working in the fields.15

The year 1147 was momentous for Savigny and her daughters, and
not least in England. At the Savigniac General Chapter which began
in Rheims on Trinity Sunday in the presence (and perhaps with the en-
couragement) of Pope Eugene III, once a monk of Clairvaux, the
Savigniac Abbot General Serlo, thirteen French abbots, the abbot of
Neath, the abbot of Quarr, and abbot Roger of Byland agreed to
affiliate the Savigniac foundations with the family of Clairvaux. Then
at the Cistercian General Chapter which began in September, Savigny
and her thirty daughters, including three priories of nuns, were
accepted into the Cistercian Order. The merger was first confirmed by
Eugene III on 19 September 1147, and then more formally on 10 April
1148, by a bull in which all the English Savigniac foundations and filia-
tions were mentioned by name, because opposition to union with
Clairvaux continued in England, centered around abbot Peter of
Furness. 1 6 Abbot Peter's forced resignation from the motherhouse of
8 Gilbert of Hoyland

Furness may have provided the opportunity for Gilbert's appointment

to the daughter house of Swineshead. 1 7
Roger was by now acquainted with Bernard of Clairvaux and with
Abbot Serlo of Savigny. Abbot Serlo had 'ordered a visitation of the
English Savigniac houses and in 1148 his deputy, the abbot of Quarr,
decided that Roger should take responsibility for the new foundation'
at Wensleydale in the valley of the Ure. 1 8 Roger must have been
responsible for the move of this new daughter house from Fors to
Jervaulx in 1150, and he relied entirely on Bernard's 'influence to
smooth over the difficulties raised by this matter', at the General
Chapter. 'Later when the rapid expansion of Byland and the resulting
burden of administration moved Roger to seek resignation from office,
he asked the advice and support of Bernard, w h o counselled him to
continue to govern his house "with industry and discretion" Roger
had pleaded that he was t o o incompetent to rule his house any longer
because he was worn out b y weakness and age—he was to rule for
four decades after Bernard's death! Bernard also pointed out that
Roger's successors could not support and retain the lands and
possessions which Roger had acquired in his time. 1 9 At this time or
somewhat later, 'Roger also confided his intention to Gilbert of
Swineshead', and received from Gilbert the answers we have in his
lengthy seventh treatise. In 1153 or 1154, a controversy arose between
Furness and Savigny concerning the jurisdiction each claimed over
Byland. Aelred of Rievaulx heard the case and drew up the document
to decide the dispute in favor of Savigny. The document was signed
with the seals of Gilbert and many other Cistercian abbots. 2 0
Gilbert's seventh treatise (and perhaps his first treatise also) is
addressed to Roger of Byland; Roger's only known extant work,
The Milk of Babes, is addressed tantalizingly to G., as its editor noted,
but, as Edmond Mikkers observes, it was almost certainly meant for
Gilbert of Hoyland. 2 1 If this be so, we have from Roger a sketch of
the young Gilbert, as we also have f r o m Gilbert a sketch of the mature
Roger. When C. H. Talbot published this vocation letter, he argued
convincingly that Roger was the author and told Roger's story with
humor and finesse, but was less concerned with Roger's appreciation
of Gilbert and his attempt to win a desirable recruit for the Cistercian
Order. As Roger suggests, Gilbert's idealism in the service of an
earthly king could be turned to the service of the divine Majesty.
His love of parents could be directed to the love of Christ in the
Cistercian family. His strong self-will could be firmly guided towards
the will of God. His love of wealth could be exchanged for the love of
eternal treasure. Roger cautions Gilbert: 'Let not ambition for wealth
 Introduction 9

delight you because your fathers possessed churches by hereditary

right'. From Scripture Roger formulates and answers an objection of
this young Samuel to the harsh life of the Cistercians: 'But weak am I
and delicate. Because reared in royal purple, I am incapable of enduring
a regime so harsh or a regime so burdensome'. Obviously anyone
'steeped in the literature of a pagan'—Roger means philosophy and
literary style—did not need 'sparkling circumlocutions or polished
sentences in the ornate style', but rather 'the milk of babes'. He needed
a reminder of the four last things; he needed t o love Mary the mother of
mercy; he needed to realize that he was welcome among the Cistercians
and that he shared a very large part in the heart of that strong spiritual
father in God, Roger of Byland.
The writings of Gilbert and Roger show both their distinctive
personalities and their common formation in Cistercian spirituality.
Gilbert's writings also reflect the influence of Roger's letter to him.
Gilbert is as aware as Bernard not only that beginners need 'the milk of
babes' but also that the proficient need more solid food. Gilbert's vivid
description of the ravages of disease in a monk's death recalls in a
gentler way Roger's macabre account of the wanton's progress to
disintegration. The commonplace of the harshness of externals in the
Cistercian life both writers freely admit and set in its proper context.
Gilbert, however, plays on the origin of the word Cistercian. Cis, the
father of Saul, is one whose name means 'harsh' and his name signifies
not the harsh externals of the Cistercian life but any monk in office
who becomes a 'harshtercian' father to his sons. 22 Gilbert's own voca-
tion letter, to a scholarly Adam not otherwise identified, shows more
delicacy and understanding towards a man trained in literature and in
philosophy, for Gilbert knew from experience that this was a valuable
discipline for disciples of the Lord; yet he was as blunt as Roger in his
direct approach to Adam. 2 3 Identical arguments against Roger's resigna-
tion appear both in Bernard and in Gilbert's seventh treatise, where
also his advice 'reveals the love and reverence with which Roger was
held by his friends . . . the great material and spiritual prosperity which
attended his government and the considerable pains he took to avoid
involving himself in cares alien to his office'. 2 4

SWINESHEAD

Roger of Byland, that unambitious man and born leader of men, the
friend of Bernard, Serlo, and Aelred, was deeply interested in the voca-
tion, formation, and career of that equally self-effacing man, Gilbert,
10 Gilbert of Hoy land

abbot of Swineshead. Swineshead Abbey, founded 1 February 1135,

was endowed, not richly, by Robert de Gresley and his son, Albert,
with two hundred forty acres, of which much was fenland, and 'in the
same vill, with some mills and fisheries and a moiety of the church of
Cotgrave, Nottinghamshire'. 2 5 On the death of Robert Gresley in 1166,
his widow Hawyse added to the endowment. 'Other benefactors were
Stephen, earl of Brittany, Robert d'Arcy, Alan de Croun, Gilbert of
Ghent, Henry de Longchamp, Simon, earl of Montford and many
of less note'. 2 6 Another benefactor was William of Roumara, earl of
Lincoln. Over the years benefactions continued.
One might be tempted to compare the site and endowment of
Swineshead unfavorably with other sites already mentioned: Clairvaux,
Rievaulx, Furness, and Byland. In fact, many of the Savigniac sites in
England were considered poor in all things save the quality of their
monks. 28 The Savigniacs who bade farewell to Furness for Swineshead
were leaving an abbey still youthful but situated in a narrow valley near
Barrow-in-Furness at the extremity of the Furness peninsula in the
modern county of Cumbria. The abbey would develop 'great estates
with prosperous sheepwalks and corngranges and remained wealthy to
the end'. 2 9 The monks came to lowland and fenland in a district called
Hoyland which had obvious similarities to the Netherlands and was not
without future promise. They would have opportunities for sheep-
grazing and cattle-raising. They would be challenged to reclaim the fen-
land from river and sea, despite the ever-present danger of floodings and
the ominous whistling of the wind from northeast or northwest. 3 0 At
Swineshead the founders from Furness were joined by a contingent of
Cistercians from Rievaulx, and the practical link between Savigny,
Clairvaux, and Rievaulx may have been that extraordinarily practical
and spiritual mover of monks, Roger of Byland.

Abbot Gilbert

Several passages in Gilbert's sermons suggest that he did not accompany

John, the founder abbot, and his monks from Furness but arrived from
elsewhere to become John's immediate successor. As abbot, Gilbert
praises his monks for their understanding of prayer and their frequent
and fervent practice for which he takes no credit. 'I have frequently
found you well versed in pursuits of this sort. 1 cannot boast that I have
engendered these affections in you, though I rejoice to have found you
in them. And if I have not formed these interests in you, may I at least
encourage you in them!' Alluding to his superiors who sent him to
 Introduction 11

Swineshead, he speaks of the mantle of office as the heavy burden of

the care of souls and the anxiety of temporal administration: 'Woe to
me that the city watchmen found me, that they thought they found
something in me deserving of such a burden'. Scattered throughout his
work are many lessons about such watchmen: teachers, preachers,
prelates, abbots and their audiences. His ideal abbot is personified in
Aelred of Rievaulx and Roger of Byland. 31

Gilbert's Audience

Only in three sermons and in two treatises does Gilbert use the plural
of address throughout. 3 2 Thirteen sermons show only the singular of
address, to which may be added another four with one or two words
or one or two sentences in the plural inserted for the occasion and
easily detachable. The remaining thirty sermons have singulars and
plurals mainly for variety and to bring home the point to each individual
auditor. The individual is the faithful soul, fidelis anima, or the human
soul, humana anima, or the individual as sponsa, feminine or masculine.
The plurals often addressed to the brethren, fratres, are used in the
wider sense for all souls seeking the Cistercian way and do not exclude
the ladies. 33
Sermons fifteen to twenty-two form a recognizable series which
comments on Canticle 3:3-11, a natural unit in the Vulgate to be sung
by the chorus in the Canticle. These sermons show that they were used
for nuns and in the seventeenth sermon we become aware of the
presence of young ladies, adulescentulae, perhaps servants or candidates
for the cloister. Full of color, vivid imagination, and tender emotion,
this group of sermons in some ways shows Gilbert at his best. In two
beautiful passages we may notice the veiled advice to nuns on the
choice of an expert in the word of God and how a spiritually dead
monk is treated by his Cistercian mother. 3 4 A moving passage in a
later sermon, on the little fig tree which first produced the sweet fruit
of virginity and later the bitter fruit of repentance, shows Gilbert's own
great heart and the greater heart of the Beloved. Though Gilbert knew
this soul personally, he leaves us to guess the identity and the cloister
of a soul restored to spiritual life as Lazarus was restored from the tomb
and a contemporary of Aelred's nun of Watton. 3 5
To what monastery or priory did these nuns belong? Though the
Cistercians had not officially accepted the care of souls in general or of
nuns who on their own initiative had adopted the Cistercian rule or
practices, monks of the Savigniac family had assumed the care of nuns
12 Gilbert of Hoyland

and continued this care even after their union with Cfteaux. Though
this might have been true of Swineshead, in the absence of contem-
porary records the evidence suggests that these nuns were Gilbertines
founded by Gilbert of Sempringham or nuns of some other foundation
keen to adopt the rule and practice of Cfteaux. 3 6 Sempringham,
founded by Gilbert of Sempringham, w h o tried vainly to have his
many foundations affiliated with Clairvaux, was only about ten miles
to the southwest of Swineshead (near Horbling on the modern map).
The nuns were eager to receive Cistercian direction and guidance, and
the practical Gilbert of Hoyland kept them in mind. 3 7
The monks of Swineshead, including the founding monks from
Furness, the contingent from Rievaulx, and new recruits, seem to
have become numerous, for Gilbert speaks of 'this crowded gathering'.
From the beginning he found that they 'applied themselves frequently
and fervently in prayer'. Many a time he praises their avidity for
contemplation: 'You urge me to lay down for you some rule for
contemplating the Beloved and to give you a method for this discovery
and vision', and later: 'I see that your readiness to listen is now
enkindled anew. Your appetite has been whetted by the fragrance of
the bride's ointments. Through some immoderate hunger you desire
this theme to be added today . . . grant me a truce until morning'.
Their mutual humility and their love of Christ he recognized and
praised: 'Call to mind how you beg one another for the help of
prayers, with what humble feelings, what earnest desires and what
adjurations'. Finally, in a long and enviable picture of their daily life,
Gilbert embraces all his community in an ideal presentation of
the perfect Cistercian life. 3 8
Gilbert does not shirk his d u t y to call attention to weakness and
to suggest a cure often with wry humor and a dash of satire. On
occasion, he tells us, some speak too harshly about their abbot or
their brethren. A few waste time in idleness to the neglect of spiritual
pursuits. Idlers do not follow the example of the ancient fathers in
simplicity and love of solitude, while a few ludicrously abuse their
sign language. 39 This reads like a chapter of faults. Gilbert's heartiest
satire is reserved for some vain and ambitious individuals: Brother
William who is flexing his ostrich wings to take flight to the court of
a duke, the likely successors of Roger and their vanity and ambition,
the pompous preacher and the niggardly bursar, the disaffected monk
and the complaining nun.
The receipt of a sermon, a treatise, or a letter from Gilbert must
have been an exciting event. If we read him only for his spiritual
content and for theological insights taken out of context—for example
 Introduction 13

in the index bcupletissimus of Mabillon—we may miss the vibrant man

of his times, the monk toiling manually with his confreres at tasks of all
kinds, and the humble but worthy bearer of the mantle of an abbot. If
he was not a native of the fens of south Lincolnshire, we find him in his
writings a naturalized citizen of the district of Hoyland, where he con-
tinued to plant the seed of the word in rich silt reclaimed from the
ocean. Ruminating on the word after the Cistercian manner, he
seasoned it with the salt of the sea. Once only, indirectly and
pejoratively, does he mention swine, in connection with the prodigal
returned to his father while the elder brother grunted. In his many
references to birds and beasts, he seems to use Scripture with his own
readings and observations rather than literal quotations from Isidore
of Seville or from the bestiaries. In his first treatise, on the contempla-
tion of heaven, he seems to be alluding to, the Confession of the
Archpoet (died 1165), a contemporary of Gilbert (died 1172). 4 1
Gilbert adapts to his own era the soldiering metaphor frequent in
monastic writings, but the two living metaphors which move him most
were derived, one from the site of his own monastery and the other
from the allegory of love in the Canticle.
In explaining and adapting scriptural texts, Gilbert manifests his
concern for all his monks with their assorted jobs around the
monastery: the beekeeper with his helmet-shaped hives and his full
honeycombs, the gardeners with many kinds of vegetable gardens,
flowerplots and orchards, the chemist and the silversmith, the tailor
and the chandler, the cobbler, the barber, and the baker, the fisher-
man tacking at sea, the irrigator and the well-digger, the hunter cock-
ing one eye, the plowman, and the shepherd with his sheep and his dog.
We should not forget the two nuns, one overburdened and creaking
like a cart loaded with hay and the other bustling along like a proud
carriage of the Lord. Nor should we neglect the bird-watcher charmed
by the songster or awaiting migration. This world, all recorded in the
Scriptures, was alive and well in Swineshead, to be recorded by Gilbert
who forgot none of his little people, so admirable and so worthy of
praise and sometimes so earthy and so comical. 42
The monastic soldiering metaphor Gilbert deftly adapts to his text
and t o his time and place. Monks in the service of the divine Majesty
must defend the city of God from enemies within and without. His
commentary lets us hear echoes of encroachment on the border,
border warfare, defence of the city by walls and ramparts, by
towers and outworks against war within and war without, by the use
of mail, helmets, shields, sword-play, and duelling. 43 By some literary
historians Gilbert is considered a source in the development of the
14 Gilbert of Hoyìand

legend of the holy grail, not surprisingly, for the quest is practically a
, . 4 4
Cistercian re-creation.
Acknowledging his debt to Alfred Pauphilet, Roger Sherman Loomis
in 'The "Queste del Saint Graal": Celtic Story-Patterns in Cistercian
Allegory', finds in Gilbert the source of four developments in the
legend. The name of Galahad, the Christ-knight, which is derived from
the biblical Galaad or Gilead and means a 'mount of witness', is
interpreted as a reference t o Christ by Isidore of Seville, Walafrid
Strabo, and the Venerable Bede. Gilbert asks in his twenty-third
sermon: 'W.ho is this [Mount Gilead] b u t Christ, for on him all the
testimonies of the prophets are piled and to him the prophets, J o h n the
Baptist, the heavenly Father and his own works bear witness'. In the
same sermon, Professor Loomis finds the clue to an allegorical role
played by fickle Fortune: 'She is, when bald, a personification of the
Old Law . . . . After explaining that Mount Galaad signified Christ,
[Gilbert] continued in this remarkable style':
Do not fall from this mount if you are a hair. Why do you
threaten to be separated from us and to be plucked from
the flock of the remaining locks? Will your fall inflict
baldness on the Church? She cannot suffer baldness for her
hairs are all numbered. It was to the Synagogue that the
threat was made by Isaiah: 'Instead of curled locks there
will be baldness'. The locks of the Church [faithful souls]
are curled, always recoiling to her head, encircling it in a
friendly embrace, striving to enter the secrets of her head.
Therefore her hairs do not tumble from but ascend to
Mount Gilead, accumulating for their own imitation ever
greater examples of Christ's works.
Loomis concludes that 'it is next to certain that this passage inspired the
author of Perlesvaus'. He then credits Gilbert as the source of two
further developments in the Queste del Saint Graal, for Gilbert
'equated in his second sermon the bed of Solomon with the cross of
Christ', in the passage where he exclaims: 'A welcome little bed is the
wood of your Cross!' Loomis concludes: 'This equation being accepted,
it follows that Galahad, the Christ-Knight, was destined to lie upon the
bed, and so he does later on the voyage to Sarras'. Finally in the
sixteenth sermon of Gilbert, Loomis finds the origin of St Paul's sword
of the word hanging from Galahad's side:
Let 'the sword of the spirit' be 'versatile' in your grasp, a
trusty servant in every task confronting you . . . Let the
sword of the word be at your side, not in hiding . . . Gird
it upon your thigh," that you may be powerful and prompt
 Introduction 15

both 'to encourage with sound doctrine' and to refute

adversaries.
'The sword', comments Loomis with Pauphilet, 'which lay at the foot
of the bed and which was destined for Galahad affords another
extraordinary example of the author's practice of blending romantic
motifs from the Matter of Britain with biblical themes and mystical
interpretations'.
Gilbert was also fascinated by the restlessly changing natural
world best known t o the lowlander on either side of the North Sea,
where from Roman times and before, man had fought for survival.
Gilbert prays that the north wind with its desolating frost will
alternate with the south wind with its consoling warmth. He under-
stands the management of fresh water from streams, fountains, and
wells and the need for dykes, channels, sluice-gates, and systems of irri-
gation to protect fresh water from the brine of the sea. 45 Subject to the
seasons, the perils of the equinox, the perpetual ebb and flow of the
tide, man's attempts to maintain the higher land and to reclaim the silt
from both flash floods and ocean innundations make him restless and
weary amid the changing but unwearied elements, until he cries out for
peace at the end. The metaphor of the dyked ocean, never long absent
in his writings, Gilbert used with startling effectiveness in his neglected
sixth treatise. There 'the measureless ocean of divine Majesty' seeps
drop by drop through the dyke of our humanity to be caught in the
inebriating chalice which is Christ.
Christ is at once inebriated and inebriating. He is the toast-
master and the chalice. He is at once the goblet and the
wine, wine pure and wine mixed, for wisdom mixed wine
in his mixing bowl. How sparkling you are, O inebriating
mixing bowl! Sparkling indeed, radiant in truth, intoxi-
cating with delight.
Gilbert's correspondent is to catch some precious drops in the navel-cup
of his soul, so that he need never come again to Gilbert's well to drink.
So let the navel of your soul be like a rounded mixing
bowl, refined and purified and made fine and capacious by
the scalpel of penance and discipline, that you may be filled
to the brim and inebriated, that the verse may rightly be
applied to you: 'Your navel is a rounded bowl which never
lacks mixed wine'. 4 6
16 Gilbert of Hoyland

The Writer Among His Monks

In the midst of the monks whom he observed, praised, and prayed for,
and to w h o m his door was always open, Gilbert sighed now and then
for fewer interruptions, for more leisure for contemplation and for
precious moments to record his reflections. Though he manifests his
sensitivity t o the fenland site of his own abbey, he finds time to
describe the more beautiful site of Byland (Stocking). For the garden
of the bride he records the natural splendor of mountains and hills,
the enchantment of a well-planned garden with its trees and flowers
and the scent of aromatic plants. 4 7 Yet with St Paul he preferred to
look up and ahead rather than to look back, except occasionally to the
idealized past of the early Church, to her martyrs and her doctors.
Gilbert lived with his monks in the school of Christ, where he
learned by experience and taught with discretion, providing milk for
babes and solid food for the proficient. His textbooks were the
Scriptures, the Rule of St Benedict, the Fathers who developed the
traditions of monastic life, the liturgy, the natural environment, and
the living community. He read and explained his textbooks with the
conviction that the letter kills but the Spirit gives life, that the literal
sense must be completed by the spiritual, the Old by the New
Testament, prefigurements by the promised reality, the prophets and
patriarchs by the Messiah. His reverence for the Rule of St Benedict
is shown in two subtle ways: he prefers to paraphrase rather than to
cite the Rule, except in one place where he refers to the Rule as a
final argument introduced by denique, the word reserved for the
unchallengeable argument of the Scriptures; yet he admits that the
letter of the Rule is lifeless and uses to the full the liberating humanity
of its famous final paragraph. Likewise, in his epistolary treatise to
Roger of Byland, he expresses his admiration for and need to adapt
'the ancients, who transmitted to us their experience of religious life,
for their authority is more ancient and their purity more perfect . . . .
They were servants of their era, let us be servants of ours'. 4 8 While
showing his admiration for Bernard, he realized that as Bernard adapted
even the Scripture t o the occasion for the benefit of his listeners, so
could he. On the letter and the spirit of Cfteaux, could any passage
better manifest Gilbert's psychological insight and warmth of heart
than his words about a brother spiritually sick unto death? Could
anyone speak more movingly about union of hearts in a community
than Gilbert has done in explaining the parable of the pomegranate?
 Introduction 17

He has also left us a record of the ideal Cistercian life in describing a

full day in the spiritual life of his community. 4 9

THE WRITTEN WORD, SACRED AND PROFANE

Like the works of many monastic contemporaries, the works of

Gilbert exhibit a familiarity with the pagan classics and an enviable
style, always subordinated to his unwavering purpose of communicat-
ing his teaching and his enthusiasm for the ascetical life. In a spirited
passage in defense of the writer of spiritual books, he begins with a
quotation from Horace: 'Good it is if words be spoken but it is not less
good if words be written, " f o r the word flies off beyond recall", unless
it is captured in writing'. 5 0 A few other quotations and many remi-
niscences of Horace throw light on his meaning. Again, he satirizes
ostentatious monks with classical allusions: 'Each of these characters
you will recognize as a [swashbuckling] Thraso in gesture, an inn-
keeper in merrymaking, a [parasitical] Gnatho in a brawl. Each wishes
to appear as a Cato in chapter, a Cicero in court, a Virgil among the
poets'. 5 1 Seneca he quotes frequently, but as a philosopher. Though
familiar with the classics, he had no doubt about the priority of the
sacred page over the secular for a cleric or a monk: 'In the mouth of a
cleric or of a monk, sacred literature is much more fitting than secular.
Why do you wish to speak Egyptian in Jerusalem'? 5 2 Yet in all his
writings, though he tended to hide her, his shy classical virgin peeps out
unexpectedly through the veil of his pages to throw light on the bride
of the Canticle.
His appreciation for literature and philosophy, which we gather from
the vocation letter of Roger of Byland, is confirmed by Gilbert's own
vocation letter t o Adam, a scholarly young cleric not otherwise
identified:
Not that I disparage erudition in the arts, a ready memory
in liberal studies and a clear understanding, for on these
depends the integrity of knowledge. For skill in the arts is
valuable provided one uses them rightly, that is as a step
and foothold where one does not stop and rest, but which
one must use to rise to higher and holier and more interior
mysteries of Wisdom, to those hidden and pleasant retreats
and to the very light inaccessible which God inhabits.
That Gilbert includes philosophy among the steps leading to Wisdom,
becomes clear in the same paragraph:
The tenuous and ambiguous knowledge of natures and
18 Gilbert of Hoyland

principles, scarcely reached through long detours and

winding curves, delights you t o excess, has stolen your
attention, and allured your love to itself. How much more
then should creative Wisdom herself attract you, for
through her all these realities are fashioned that they
may exist and brought into the light that they may be
recognised? Will the winning of Wisdom not coax you to
court her much more earnestly?
Such Wisdom then is the crowning art: 'Of all the arts, this last I would
call the art, the law, the norm, the form, and the principle, the univer-
sal, uniform, invariable exemplar'. Gilbert invites Adam to become
in his turn a doctor mellifluus, explaining the essence and attributes
of the divine Majesty: 'On a subject of this kind willingly would I
listen to you in the chair of prophecy'. For Adam, a potential teacher
among the Cistercians, Gilbert proposes a curriculum which suggests
what he Tried to convey to his monks as their teacher:
But when you had directed your attention to the divine
blessings, then willingly would I listen to you explain more
in depth and develop at greater length your views on
pardon, on grace and on glory, on what the Lord has given,
restored or added, and on all he endured for us and con-
ferred upon us. I would listen to you review for us the
preceding sufferings in Christ and the glories to come, the
endurance of trials, the anticipation of rewards, the ele-
ments of faith, the laws of morality, the individual steps of
renewal and the stages of progress towards perfection.
Here obviously is an abundance of material and an
inviting occupation. Nowhere else can any man of talent,
however zealous and however learned, employ himself
more prolifically, more fruitfully. 5 3
In his last, incomplete sermon, Gilbert comments on the teaching of the
bride, the teaching Church, in a way which reflects his own ideal of
teaching.
In all this observe the teaching of the bride, observe her
devotion, observe her loving preparation whether seeking
her Beloved or instructing her daughters or recalling his
praises. She adjures earnestly, she answers readily, she
illustrates with ornaments, she divides distinctly, she re-
views briefly, she sums up concisely and I do not know
whether she expresses sufficiently. I know indeed that she
concludes affectionately: 'Such is my Beloved and he is my
friend'. Great is the compass of these praises and
 Introduction 19

obviously great is her love when she praises. 54

Gilbert's defense of the General Chapter's prohibition against the
writing of books assumes some encouragement or commission to
commit his own sermons to writing:
Great then, it must be admitted, is the value of composing
the word of salvation, but only when this task is entrusted
to, or better exacted of some individual. The caution,
then, of our elders in imposing silence as a rule would
seem to require no refutation; however extensive their
caution, it does no harm, for the permission profitably
granted to some might prove the occasion of rash pre-
sumption for others, while a man might engage in a task
not imposed on him to the neglect of the task imposed. 5 5
Because all his material seems to have passed through Gilbert's process
of mastication and rumination, his sources, other than Scripture, are
difficult to identify. Once he quotes St Jerome's 'Ecclesiastical Writers',
and he asks a friend to obtain for him a copy of that Saint's 'Com-
mentary on Isaiah'. 56 This request concludes the delightful letter to
Brother William, otherwise unidentified, to counsel him not to unfold
his ostrich wings to migrate to the court of a duke, dux. Since
William was previously on good terms with the duke, his desire for
advice may suggest that Gilbert also knew the duke and his court, and
perhaps obtained manuscripts from him through William. To another
friend he writes on the unexpected length of time it has taken to
collate parallel passages, whether from Scripture or from commentaries,
for the explanation of a text of St James. 5 7 In some passages, of
course, one hears echoes of Roger, Aelred, and Bernard, and also of
St Anselm. He is familiar with the thought behind the great prayer of
St Anselm to Paul and to Christ, each as a mother. 5 8 Gilbert's fourth
sermon Etienne Gilson considers a very personalized commentary on
Anselm's 'faith seeking understanding' and an 'interesting synthesis of
Augustine, Anselm and Bernard'. In a later sermon Gilbert quotes
without comment the familiar text of Isaiah: 'unless you believe, you
will not understand'. 5 9 In his fourth and fifth sermons, however,
Gilbert attempts something more modest than this 'interesting syn-
thesis'; limiting himself to an audience of believers, he tries to explain
imaginatively the role of reason mediating between the starting point
of faith and the goal of understanding.

In an all t o o brief summary of his dissertation on Gilbert, Fr Jean

Vuong-Dinh-Lam writes:
The sources of Gilbert are above all St Augustine whom
he uses in his theology of original sin, grace, liberty and
20 Gilbert of Hoylar.d

predestination. The Rule of St Benedict is his guide in his

teaching of monastic observance. He seems to have read
John Cassian. St Gregory the Great is very familiar to him.
But in his spiritual teaching his undisputed master is
St Bernard, whom of course he never plagiarizes.
Yet Fr Jean also notes minor differences and omissions. For the image
of the Trinity in Man, Gilbert chooses not the augustinian 'memory,
intellect, and will', but the pauline 'flesh, soul, and spirit'. Again,
though man is estranged from himself and becomes like a striped, not a
spotted leopard, dissimilis sibi, and though he inhabits other mountains
than Sion, Fr Jean observes that Gilbert avoids the expression
regio dissimilitudinis.60

RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE

A reading of Gilbert is more rewarding if one pauses to chew and savor

his words. Gilbert is an experience. He has found the Beloved. Here we
must note that Etienne Gilson, indulging perhaps a penchant for para-
dox but as quotable as ever, concludes some remarks on Gilbert by
saying: 'Gilbert was not a great mystic, perhaps no mystic at all, and in
his commentary he prudently remains on the level of the "moral
interpretation". But he has a strong and well-poised mind, and his
writings are well worth reading'. This remark about an author whom
members of his Order considered a theologian and specifically a
mystical theologian, is devastating praise, as if one should say of a poet
that he writes well but has no inspiration. After pondering over Gilbert's
writings for many years, Edmond Mikkers protests that Gilson's remark
is too harsh, indeed that 'from a greater familiarity with Gilbert's
sermons, it is evident that he had reached a high level of prayer, not to
say an intimate union with God'. Fr Mikkers considers that Gilbert
was most dedicated to contemplation of heavenly mysteries, 'unless we
wish to suppose that he has almost nowhere spoken from his own
experience, when he proposes for us his most bountiful teaching on
contemplation'. Mystical experience would seem necessary to explain
his writings. Not without reason then should we emphasize for further
study the ten characteristics of his religious experience which Fr Pierre
Miquel carefully documents: 61

1. experience is a principal source of his teaching;

2. personal experience must be tested against the touch-
stone of Scripture and the communal experience of
 Introduction 21

the Church;
3. spiritual experience differs from experience of the
senses;
4. experience is a foretaste of what faith undertakes
to believe;
5. experience allows the soul to perceive what it cannot
understand;
6. experience is a gift the soul can prepare itself to
receive;
7. experience of the word of God varies with the disposi-
tion of those to whom it is addressed;
8. experience is incommunicable and its memory difficult
to recall;
9. experience, however brief, compensates for many labors;
10. experience is full of joy.

Fr Miquel concludes with a quotation from Sermon eight, which he

says is full of delightful theology and throbbing with the clarity of ex-
perience. 62 Gilbert asks how we can bridge the gap between our na-
tures, vain and void, and the union of two natures in the one person
of Christ, the mystery he has been teaching. His conclusion is his ever-
present theme of love:
Is it perhaps that charity is winged and soars over this
intervening gulf of which we are speaking, with the swift
flight of ardent desire? Yes, I agree. For to love is already
to possess; to love is also to be assimilated and united. But
why not, since God is charity?
The great gulf between our nature and the nature of God cannot be
bridged except by faith and especially by charity. Etienne Gilson and
M.-Andre Fracheboud have noted in Gilbert's first eight sermons that
he clearly lays down the distinctions which would lay the ghost of the
charge of pantheism levelled against Gilbert as against Bernard. Though
Gilbert does not use the word deificatio, he has laid the foundation for
the development of his teaching on divinisation. 63

T H E N O R T H WIND

To idealize the life at Swineshead as a happy blend of cult, culture, and

agriculture, a romantic era of sweetness and light, an idyllic and
pastoral retirement, is to pass over some harsh realities, the shades
of darkness and bitter night which Gilbert pictures. He warns his
22 Gilbert of Hoyland

monks about questionable quests for Jesus and his holy name:
He is made the subject of a treatise in councils, of a debate
in courts, of a dispute in the schools, of a song in churches.
These preoccupations are religious; but go to the harbor
mouth and consider the result of this stream of activity. See
if all this is not a kind of haggling over the price of Christ.
It is a lucrative business, the name of Christ. Nothing is
more prized, nothing more desirable. Happy none the less
is he who prizes the excellence of this name. Among
others let there be treatises, lawsuits, disputations about
this name. For us it is enough if, in our cloisters at least,
this name be loved. 64
The locks of his bride were torn by almost continuous schisms in the
Church throughout Gilbert's lifetime. He refers to the rift in her ranks
under Pope Innocent II (1130-43) when Cardinal Peter of the
Pierleoni family was 'elected' with the name of Anacletus II,
antipope (1130-1138). The Roman Emperor here was Lothaire II
(1125-37) and the Lion, Cardinal Pierleoni.
But the flocks do not listen to nor rejoice at the voice of
the Bridegroom but rather at the voice of the Roman
Emperor. Unless (and this we have more reason to admit)
they do not so much rejoice as tremble at his roar. There-
fore they cannot be moved at the roaring of the Lion,
because they are held fast by the immovable seal of divine
knowledge. 5
Later in this sermon, Gilbert laments the dispersal of bishops and the
impoverishment of clerics and monks. He speaks bluntly about the
weakness of Alexander III (1159-1181) w h o was opposed by the
antipope, Victor IV (1159-64), with the support of Emperor Frederick
Barbarossa (1152-90). Victor was the first of a line of antipopes who
relied on friends and supporters of Barbarossa.
Recall Lord Jesus, your children who are astray, to the
sweetness of this milk [of the bride], that from the mouths
of sucklings you may elicit praise when you have destroyed
the foe and the victor. Hasten then and exchange judge-
ment for victory, in order that those who call upon your
name may dwell in unity, because in this unity you send
blessings and life.
In changing times, he knows the abbot's duty to protect his monks:
He must appear in court, attend councils, coax rulers,
thwart rustlers, refute prosecutors, pay judges' fees, recon-
cile with the world those whose conversation, like Paul's,
 Introduc tion 23

has b e e n in heaven. T h e r e were times when we used t o

drink the m i l k o f the nations and b e nourished at the
breasts o f kings; and see, n o w t h e y i m p o r t u n a t e l y d e m a n d
a r e c o m p e n s e for what we i m b i b e d perhaps a little t o o
freely. B u t while nations and kings squeeze barren breasts
too violently, they draw b l o o d with the milk o f their
t e m p o r a l s u b j e c t s , n o t this b l o o d o f t h e flesh b u t b l o o d
o f the soul . . . . T h a t b l o o d . . . t h e y siphon and d r i n k ,
causing excessive anguish. Alas h o w our world is t u r n e d
upside d o w n . 6 7
Gilbert c a u t i o n s against imitating t h o s e in o f f i c e w h o s e e x a m p l e is
less t h a n e d i f y i n g : ' W h y emulate whose w h o , a p p o i n t e d t o o f f i c e s ,
are c o m p a r e d to beasts o f b u r d e n ? T h e i r eyes stare at the e a r t h , their
maws c r o p the earth. With zest t h e y r u m i n a t e on it, t h e y devour it
with relish and though t h e y have l o f t y positions t h e y w a l l o w in t h e
mire'.68 He does n o t refrain f r o m criticizing m e n o f his o w n Order
for a m b i t i o n and p r e s u m p t i o n ; perhaps in an era o f decline, w h i c h
Fr Mikkers suggests m a y have p r o m p t e d b o t h G i l b e r t a n d R o g e r o f
B y l a n d t o c o n s i d e r resignation, these n e w problems m a y have arisen
from the conflict between Henry II and Thomas a Becket:
Our age, fallen i n t o decline, has i n t r o d u c e d o t h e r w a y s .
We must n o w provide a b u n d a n c e for p e r m a n e n t residents
and delicacies for transients. N o r b y transients d o I mean
lay f o l k , f o r w h y should I pass j u d g e m e n t on outsiders?
A m o n g t h e m however, t h e usual m o d e r a t i o n m a y n o t b e
observed, f o r t h e y can scarcely t o l e r a t e rationing where
they imagine the existence of supplies of all kinds.
B u t w h y s h o u l d I advert t o t h o s e w h o s e god is their b e l l y ?
W h y the very ones w h o profess and preach a b s t i n e n c e , t h e
very primates o f the Order, h o w f i n i c k y t h e y are in the
houses o f o t h e r s ! What an eye t h e y have for b a n q u e t s o f rare
foods prepared f o r a g o u r m e t ! H o w t h e y wrinkle their
foreheads, turn up their noses and l o o k askance, i f a n y t h i n g
is served w i t h less taste and less f e s t i v i t y ! 7 0
T h e m o n a s t e r y o f S w i n e s h e a d endured such hard t i m e s , p r o b a b l y
in t h e w i n t e r o f 1 1 6 5 - 6 6 , t h a t t h e m o n k s l a c k e d even their daily b r e a d .
As reasons G i l b e r t gives n o t only c r o p failure b u t also calumnies and
mockery from worldlings and problems w i t h neighboring or other
lords. S o great was their destitution t h a t G i l b e r t must share his deep
g r i e f with his m o n k s ;

How long, O Lord, will the north wind of adversity

oppress our regions? . . . O f t e n must I groan and m y heart
24 Gilbert of Hoyland

grieve. Children beg for bread and there is no one to break

it for them, for there is none to be broken. I do not speak
of the bread of the Word but of this daily food for the
body. Yet my soul cannot be filled with the richness of
that heavenly bread, as long as lack of this daily bread
causes, as it were, the emaciation of grief. Distracted by the
sound of this lament, I have forgotten to eat that heavenly
bread. A harsh north wind is exterior hardship but much
harsher is anxiety of mind. One of the two weighs on you,
brethren; both together oppress me. I carry a burden among
you because of our common distress and a distress of my
own beyond yours, because it is on your behalf. Hence
cases of misfortune, hence legal quarrels arise. Some
whisper, others taunt, and what is beyond human effort to
prevent from happening, they turn into a reproach when it
happens. Some provoke, some mock, attributing bad luck
to folly. 7 1

Yet if Gilbert, like Roger of Byland, desired t o resign, to exchange

the mantle of an abbot for the mantle of pure contemplation (his
desire could well have been a sigh for heaven) his actual resignation
lacks contemporary evidence. Fr Mikkers, an authority on chronicles,
sees in the words of the Chronicler, 'formerly abbot of Hoiland in
England', a possible suggestion of Gilbert's resignation. Though Gilbert
often inveighs against ambition and warns Roger against ambition and
presumption, he advises Roger not to resign. Gilbert's deprecatory
remarks about himself in that context show only his own real feelings
of unworthiness. Roger, if consulted, would have been likely to dissuade
Gilbert from resignation and his continuing reputation suggests that no
reason existed to remove him from office. T h e simplest explanation is
the final suggestion of Fr Mikkers that on his journey to or from a
General Chapter, whether his intention had been to seek acceptance of
his resignation there or not, Gilbert stopped at L'Arrivour and was
overtaken by death. He has merited a place in menologies, a feast day
on May 25th, and he is listed by many authors as Blessed Gilbert. 7 2
Gilbert deserves his share in the eulogies given to that constellation
of Cistercian writers who arose in the twelfth century. Let what has
been said be applied to him. His exuberant and sparkling style is not
explained by suggesting that before or after entering a monastery he
frequented a classical school. His Latin shows a wealth of experience,
a brilliance which recalls the colors of autumn. He manifests a flexibility,
a liveliness, and a poetic precision, which will surprise every new
 Introduction 25

reader today. Like his fellow Cistercian writers, he f o u n d a way to

sanctity even while 'succumbing', in an honored Christian tradition,
'to the greatest temptation, which was to become a man of letters'. 7 3
The luminous statement of the medieval Chronicler with which we
began and the brilliant modern paradoxes with which we are tempted
to end require refinement. The early Cistercians engaged in a life and
death struggle against distortion of the Christian message in an era not
only of war and schism, not only of powerful and longlived potentates,
but also of an emerging scholasticism which they held suspect.
In the midst of renewal, upheaval, and revolution, inside and outside
the Church, they were dedicated to an integral Christianity taught in
the school of Christ, part of which was their literary style. 'Dom
Gilbert', according t o the Chronicler, 'composed the sermons . . . fol-
lowing with great distinction and learning the manner and style of
Blessed Bernard'. Gilson has written briefly and brilliantly on Bernard's
highly personal Latin style, and in a memorable essay Christine Mohr-
mann examines Bernard's vocabulary, syntax, and style. 7 4 In Bernard's
corpus, which required secretaries and included much business corres-
pondence, many 'exotic words' have been compiled; 7 5 in Gilbert no
word occurs without precedent in classical or early ecclesiastical Latin.
Structuralists could more easily analyze Gilbert's sermons individually
and in groups than Bernard's. Bernard ranges freely and needs no
apology for wandering from his text; rarely, and always with an apol-
ogy, does Gilbert stray from the text being discussed, for he is ever
conscious of the unity and pattern of his work. Bernard's sermons
share his ubiquity and his ambassadorship to all Europe; Gilbert seems
more conscious of adaptation to the needs of the little people who
listen to him and whose work he shared in the environment of the fens.
Traditions robbed neither author of his individuality.
Miss Mohrmann's remarks about Bernard's syntax apply equally to
Gilbert, namely that parallel clauses (parataxis) are more dominant
than subordinate clauses (hypotaxis), that the laws of structure are
simple and normal and reflect the practice of fourth and fifth century
prose. She notes that Bernard's literary figures, antithesis, parallelism,
rhyme, assonance, and alliteration, suffice to mark the structure of
phrases and the course of thought. Miss Mohrmann's statements seem
as true of Gilbert and her examples from Bernard could be paralleled in
Gilbert. Applicable to both authors also are her remarks about the play
on the sound and significance of words, on images and metaphors. The
works of both authors are like mosaics sparkling with untranslatable
tesserae.
Let Gilbert's remarks about Bernard with which we began serve as
26 Gilbert of Hoyland

our first examples of style. Gilbert shies away from repeating Bernard's
remarks about the kinds of anointing, and substitutes an explanation of
the various ways of anointing; he uses a mnemonic with anaphora,
parataxis, and rhyme, to help recall his four points: 'some people are
touched, and others sprinkled, some are daubed and others drenched /
alii tanguntur, alii asperguntur, alii inunguntur, alii perfunduntur'.16
Again he says that Bernard interpreted the bride's beauty with a
master's touch, and with alliteration, rhyme, hypotaxis, and humor,
refuses to comment on Bernard: 'Whether the master be the more
remarkable for learning or for eloquence I know not, but the matter in
the pages of his homilies it ill becomes me to turn over for discussion,
pardon me, with my little fìnger / Et quae vir (utrum eruditior an
eloquentior nescio) suis disputavit in homiliis, nec minimo (ut sic
dicam) digito, decuit a nobis ad discutiendum attingi'.''1 Here are a
teacher's paratactical sententiae: 'a good conscience is bold for its
charity is not cold; it lives without fright, for love sets it alight; it does
not blush before the Beloved, for love trusts the Beloved / Bona
conscientia audet, et charitas ardet. Illa non formidat, ista inflammat.
Ilia pro dilecto non confunditur, ista inflammat. And again: 'pre-
occupation entangles, repose unravels the spirit / animum cura implicai,
quies explicat',18 and speaking of the bride:

Because the bride seeks him by night, in my opinion, her

quest is less for the sight of him than for his embrace. She
desires to hold him rather than to behold him. Seeing is
good indeed but seizing unites more closely / Quae per
nodes quaerit, non videtur mihi tam aspectus quam am-
plexus sectari. Tenere magis optat quam intueri. Bona
quidem visio est, sed adhaesio arctior.
Here finally is a line made intentionally memorable by alliteration: 'if
you will pardon the rhyme, faith enfolds, reason upholds, understand-
ing beholds / et (ut sic dicam) fides tenet, tuetur ratio, intelligentia
intuetur'.19
Gilson concludes his comments on the literary character of the
style of the first Cistercians and particularly of St Bernard:
They fled from the world, but the strongest temptation
that assailed the most detached amongst them all had been
to become a man of letters; and he found ways to become
a saint even when he succumbed. In spite of his formidable
asceticism St Bernard was no puritan when it came to
literature. The walls of his monasteries were bare, but his
style was not bare . . . ; each and all of these hardy
ascetics carried in his bosom a humanist who by no
 Introduction 27

means wanted to die. 80

Miss Mohrmann introduces her essay with a re-examination of these
stark paradoxes. She finds here a dichotomy, a tension of opposite
poles, as if, despite all their detachment, the early Cistercians failed to
become detached from a humanist tradition not only because they used
the classics and citations from profane authors but also because they
valued careful writing and an ornate style. They were equally guilty, but
guilty of what?
To understand what Bernard opposed, especially at the prompting
of William of St Thierry, is to appreciate what Bernard proposed and
practised, abetted by Aelred and Gilbert in their own regions. The
contemporary school of Chartres, notes Miss Mohrmann, leaned
towards speculative and scientific thought, while Abelard was showing
his predilection for dialectic. With peculiar insight the Cistercians
opposed what was a new quaestio, a dialectic which was also a literary
form, and an 'aristotelianism' which came to be adopted as an orderly
and structured foundation for scholastic thought. Not that questions
and sentences and structured explanations were such novelties in the
history of thought or in the history of the Church. 8 1 Suddenly one
hears a Gilbert clearly stating that the business of the monk is the
quest, not the question. His statement was more than literary
gymnastics; it was a memorable phrase which signified a deep division
between an ancient and integral Christian and monastic humanism and
a structural theology which taught in a new style and sought out and
integrated pure theological ideas. 82 This newly developing approach to
theology seemed to limit Scripture to its literal and historical sense, to
subordinate Scripture in majors and minors to theological conclusions,
to warm the mind of man but to leave his heart cold, to feed the
philosopher and let the poet go hungry. Gilson called the Cistercian
opposition an anti-philosophism and singled out Gilbert as its greatest
proponent, as if indeed Bernard, Gilbert, and the Cistercians were
anti-intellectuals. 83 What would be singularly present in Aquinas at the
peak of scholasticism, the Cistercians thought singularly absent in its
beginnings, thé acknowledgement that much learning, love, and life was
available at the foot of the Cross,
Let us return to the paradox of the Cistercians' bare walls and
ornate style. Was their return to primitive Christianity and to a
'rusticity' of life flagrantly contradicted by their brilliant literary style?
Let us concede with Miss Mohrmann that Bernard's style is neither
simple nor bare but lively, spirited, and emotionally gripping, at times
perhaps flowery and, in Miss Mohrmann's word, 'baroque'. Let us agree
with her and with Jean Leclercq that these monks, before or after their
28 Gilbert of Hoyland

entry into cloister, received a classical training which was preparatory

to the study of wisdom and which left its mark on their genius and
writings. Yet such training does not fully explain their taste for good
speaking and writing, or account for their particular literary style.
Miss Mohrmann examines Gilson's j o y f u l paradox which may suggest
that their literary training was in impedimentum, worldly baggage
which deserved to be jettisoned. Their style, far from rustic, according
to Miss Mohrmann, was part of their return to primitive monasticism,
to an integral Christianity, to the ¡school of Christ and the examples of
the apostles. Miss Mohrmann finds this style in the ancient Latin
translation of the first letter of St Clement of Rome, in Tertullian, in
St Cyprian, and especially in the Confessions of St Augustine.
As in doctrine the early Cistercians looked to the original school of
Christ and to primitive monasticism, so in their spoken and written
word they were responsible for a renascence of a paleo-christian style
which had reached a peak in the fourth and fifth centuries. Without
relinquishing their own individualities, Bernard and Gilbert shared that
renascence. But one can not underestimate the influence of the Vulgate
and of the Fathers who commented on its books precisely in the
stylistic characteristics Miss Mohrmann singles out. What was the
source of their co-ordination rather than subordination of clauses
(parataxis rather than hypotaxis, proceeding by kola and kommata)
if not their daily recital and hourly rumination on the psalms? What
more paratactical than the Beatitudes? What more figurative than the
Canticle or the parables of the Lord? What greater play on words than
on the names of Peter and Paul? What more paradoxical than the
statement that 'he w h o loses his life, will save it'? What better known
or more filled with rhetorical figures than St Paul's letter on charity?
This is an important point, but it does not destroy Miss Mohrmann's
nuanced and brilliant essay which traces also the influence of the large
body of homiletic and mystical literature. Of course Miss Mohrmann
knows that the Lord had style. Renewed interest in the twelfth
century has focused attention on the spiritual aliveness of the
Cistercians whom contemporaries faulted for their primitive and rustic
monasticism and their revival of a scriptural and paleochristian literary
style. Their school studied the integral Christ and their word embraced
all the senses of Scripture. Bernard was the last Father of the Church
and also deserved his title doctor mellifluus. With him Cistercians were
in the mainstream of spiritual and mystical theology and living
participants in the paleochristian renascence of literary style.
 Introduction 29

S E R M O N S ON T H E CANTICLE

The many commentaries on the Canticle in the twelfth century

indicate a renascence of interest in the allegory of divine love com-
parable to the renascence of interest in Ovid and amatory literature.
The Canticle provided a terminology, a continuing imaginative support,
a pedagogical tool in presenting ascetical and mystical theology for
those who by profession were lovers of God. Neither Bernard nor
Gilbert was daunted by prudery in discussing the physical features
mentioned in the Canticle, but with realism and discretion avoided
what Eric Colledge calls 'the simple but not always wise fervours of
Brautmystik', popular in that century 'especially among women
religious'. Like Bernard, Gilbert adapted the Canticle of human love to
the union of the individual soul with God, of the monastic city with its
Lord, and of the Church with Christ. His sermons, not pulpit oratory
but chats in the Horatian manner, use many a lively apostrophe and
much dramatic dialogue, each sermon, being polished for publication as
litterarius sermo. Each has its own unity, like a letter of Seneca or of
Pliny, and can be summed up in a chapter-heading or in a topic sen-
tence with the bride or the lover as subject, 84
Verses 3:1-4 of the Canticle are treated by Bernard in his last
twelve sermons (SC 75-86) and by Gilbert in his first thirteen.
Gilbert does not establish a link between his own and Bernard's
sermons, as J o h n of Ford would do later in the prologue of his sermons
on the Canticle, where he indicates his debt to Bernard and Gilbert,
whose work he continued and completed. Gilbert establishes a link
between the end of the second and the beginning of the third chapter
of the Canticle, between the bride's consolation during the tryst in the
spring when the Beloved is present and her desolation when her
Beloved seems absent. His mastery of his medium suggests that already
with encouragement from others he had been composing oral or
written sermons on the first two chapters of the Canticle; nor should it
surprise anyone if a Jean Leclercq were to discover and identify
Gilbert's sermons on the first two chapters of the Canticle.
Gilbert's first words indicate his emphasis on the affections of
lovers, affectus amatium, an expression to be found in an epistle of
Seneca noster. His sermons can be divided into groups, of which the
first three are easily established, as they follow the divisions of the
Canticle itself. The first group of eight sermons Gilbert summarizes in
the last paragraph of the eighth sermon: the bride seeks and finds; her
30 Gilbert of Hoyland

quest for her Beloved ends in discovery. The central emphasis is on the
circuitus, a spiritual pilgrimage for the proficient in search of the
Beloved in the planned city of God, and the climax is in the eighth
sermon on charity, the union with the Beloved. The ever gentle Henri
de Lubac comments a little impishly on the circuitus: 'at least that day,
Gilbert inherited the inspiration of Bernard'. The first paragraph of the
fifth sermon is an engaging explanation of what the Cistercians meant
by rumination on the sacred word. 8 5
In the second group of sermons (9-14), Gilbert addresses one
individual, the privileged lover who has reached a more perfect union
with the Beloved. Of these five sermons (eleven and twelve are parts of
the same sermon) the first four develop a half-verse of the bride,
Sg 3:4: 'I have taken hold of him and I will not let him go, until I bring
him into my mother's house and into the chamber of the one who
conceived me'. Sermon fourteen, the last and richest, still dwells on the
transport of union but in the words of the Bridegroom, Sg 3:5: 'I ad-
jure you, daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles and the hinds of the
fields, that you do not arouse or awaken the beloved until she herself
pleases'. This verse, a refrain already sung in Sg 2:7, and previously
discussed by Bernard (SC 52), would recur in Sg 8:4, to be treated later
by J o h n of Ford in his Sermons 9 8 - 9 9 . Gilbert addresses the individual
possessed of some extraordinary habit of virtue: 'Of the man clad in
such a habit of virtue that for him virtue seems to have become
second nature, I would say that he has not so much embraced as been
embraced b y virtue'. 8 6 Since nature is fickle, such a soul needs con-
tinued attention and diligence to retain the Beloved in the memory, to
contemplate him, t o exchange contemplation for works of charity
out of persevering love for him. The sleep of such a soul in the lair of
mystery should not be disturbed until the Spirit awakens it.
The third group of sermons (S 15-21) is addressed to nuns,
literally, it seems, rather than as a literary figure. The sermons explain
a chorus of the Canticle assigned to the daughters of Jerusalem
(Sg 3 : 6 - 1 1 ) and form a unity of their own. These felicitous sermons,
though applicable to all, Gilbert happily addresses to nuns w h o were
affecting a Cistercian way of life. Here Gilbert teaches with rich
colors and emotion adapted to the individual souls in a widening
circle, a chorus of lovers progressing along the Cistercian way. His
literary and spiritual art solved a practical problem in a way any
feminine reader would appreciate. The nuns were hungry sheep looking
up to be fed. Gilbert remembered them in this group of sermons where
the center of unity is the deceptively simple and hauntingly beautiful
sermon nineteen, a pivotal sermon on charity. 8 7
 Introduction 31

T h e l e n g t h y address o f the B r i d e g r o o m , Sg 4 : 1 - 1 5 , is discussed b y

G i l b e r t in sixteen s e r m o n s (S 2 2 - 3 7 ) . Here G i l b e r t writes some o f his
m o s t brilliant passages, o f w h i c h t h e m o s t s y m b o l i c is his c o m p a r i s o n
o f the Cistercians t o a p o m e g r a n a t e , the seeds u n i t e d in spirit within
the rind o f the c l o i s t e r . S i n c e G i l b e r t does not subdivide this longer
group, the following s u m m a r y m a y b e p a r d o n e d :
S 22. T h e lover has t h e pure and simple e y e o f a dove,
S 23. ascends t o His w i s d o m and discerns what is good,
S 24. b e g e t s twins, t h e light o f understanding and t h e w a r m t h o f
affection.
S 25. M o d e s t l y t h e lover has n o clear vision o f personal progress,
S 26. guarded b y b a t t l e m e n t s o f the w o r d and o f c h a r i t y ,
S 27. and feasts on spiritual f o o d t o give milk t o b a b e s .
S 28. Purified, t h e lover's prayer rises like incense.
S 29. T h e lover is invited f r o m L e b a n o n t o a c r o w n ,
S 30. a n d longs f o r union o f minds and hearts.
S 31. T h e lover offers material and spiritual milk t o b a b e s ,
S 32. is fragrant w i t h t h e o i n t m e n t s o f t h e A n o i n t e d ,
S 33. and is a n o i n t e d w i t h spirit, power, m e r c y and all graces.
S 34. T h e lover pleases in w o r k s , lips a n d spirit,
S 35. o f f e r s rich fruit f r o m t h e f o u n t a i n in t h e garden,
S 36. p r o d u c e s spices o f all the virtues,
S 37. and is a well and a f o u n t a i n , wise a n d loving.

T h e final eleven sermons (S 3 8 - 4 8 ) f o r m smaller groups t o m a t c h

t h e dialogue in the C a n t i c l e . T h e first t h r e e develop t h e response
o f the bride t o t h e B r i d e g r o o m :
S 38. T h e lover is a f f e c t e d b y n o r t h and south winds,
S 39. b u t distinguishes f r e e d o m , a f f e c t i v i t y and grace,
S 40. and b e a r s fruits o f c o n t i n e n c e , r e p e n t e n c e , and all virtues.
G i l b e r t t h e n devotes o n e sermon t o t h e invitation o f the B r i d e g r o o m :
S 4 1 . ' T h e lover is invited t o a b a n q u e t with m i l k , h o n e y and w i n e .
In the n e x t five s e r m o n s , G i l b e r t develops t h e words o f t h e bride,
Sg 5 : 2 - 8 :
S 42. T h e lover w e l c o m e s His visit and visits those w h o are His,
S 43. is led t o c o n t e m p l a t i o n b y His inspiration t o a c t i o n ,
S 44. b u t opens the c l o i s t e r e d d o o r only t o find him g o n e .
S 45. Advised b y w a t c h m e n , the lover dons or discards t h e m a n t l e
o f office;
S 46. t h e lover languishes with love.
In his last t w o sermons G i l b e r t e x a m i n e s the desire o f t h e c h o r u s t o
32 Gilbert of Hoyland

see the Bridegroom and introduces the bride's description of him:

S 47. The lover teaches others the beauty of the Nazarite,
S 48. and shows him radiant with light and red with fire.

Thus apparently Gilbert had availed himself of permission to com-

ment on the Canticle. He understood and followed the divisions
of its dialogue and its chorus, the pastoral song of Shepherd and
shepherdess, the epithalamium of the bride and her Bridegroom.
Sedulous to avoid the repetition of Bernard, yet following Bernard's
manner and style, he showed his own mastery of the art of the
literary sermon. He had done his own work of masticating the sacred
word, benefitted from his own experience, and passed on the fruit with
his own hand. As with Bernard, so with Gilbert, the work was cut
short all too soon, but not left unfinished, thanks to the later labor of
John of Ford. 88

THE SEVEN TREATISES

Three treatises have already been mentioned: the first and seventh
addressed to Roger of Byland, and the fifth, a reply to a friend
unknown to us, on the meaning of a verse in St James. Of the four
remaining treatises, the second and third are addressed to his brethren,
the fourth and sixth each to a friend unnamed. The first four treatises
and the sixth brilliantly and imaginatively illumine Gilbert's spiritual
theology and are complementary to his sermons: the first explores the
contemplation of heaven; the second compares the quest of the
Beloved 'here' with the vision of him 'there', according to measure;
the third compares the joy on the way with the rejoicing in the father-
land; the fourth shows how conversation and colloquy are but the
shadows of substance; and the sixth presents a moving picture of the
flow of redemptive grace. The first part of the long seventh treatise
vigorously attacks ambition and presumption, while the second half
considers the burdens of the office of abbot and Roger's excellent
qualifications for remaining in office.

GILBERT'S ONE INCOMPLETE SERMON AND FOUR EPISTLES

Gilbert has left us one incomplete sermon on the word of God as a

seed, in which with good humor at his own expense, he admits his use
and abuse of a scriptural text. His first and fourth epistles seem to
 Introduction 33

concern abbot Richard of Fountains, the third of that name (1150-70);

in the fourth, while deferring a definitive answer to a friend unknown,
Gilbert adverts to the abbot of Fountains as overshadowing him again
with a great cloud of witnesses; in the first, addressed to a Brother R.
not further identified, he may be uneasily accepting an offer of recon-
ciliation from the same abbot, Richard of Fountains, who apparently
had sent him a peace offering of a crozier, a woolen vestment, and two
chalices, Gilbert's second epistle, his vocation letter to Adam, pictures a
scholarly cleric with a large following of pupils; the tenor of this letter
seems to contradict Gilson's comment that Gilbert was the one among
the Cistercians who most fully developed Bernard's anti-philosophism.
Gilbert shows that he is not confused about his priorities; Aristotle,
Seneca, and other authors are clearly presented as propaedeutic to the
study of wisdom. Adam is invited to seize the opportunity to advance
in monastic theology when Gilbert outlines with some completeness
what might be called a monastic curriculum. Gilbert's third epistle, as
we have seen, with humor and satire warns Brother William, otherwise
unidentified, about advancing to the court of a duke, also unidentified.
Almost incidentally, concluding the fourth treatise with a passage
about the disciples and the Lord on the way to Emmaus, Gilbert
allows an insight into his idea of a letter, a treatise, or a sermon:
'Well at least we have chatted a little with you, O Lord, and about
you'. Frequently he invokes the Lord and writes fervent passages which
may easily be turned into moving prayers punctuated by his favorite
apostrophe: O bone Jesu and O dulcis Jesu. Knowing how evanescent
is even the written word, Gilbert recalls how Jesus wrote in the sand
words to be scattered by the wind and foresees the disappearance of his
literarius sermo with the end of our time: 'When the eternal day dawns,
the lamp of prophetic teaching will flicker out and the flood of
written speech will ebb away.' 8 9

MANUSCRIPTS, EDITIONS AND A TRANSLATION

Fr Mikkers lists and locates forty-eight complete or partial manuscripts

of Gilbert on the Canticle, but few for his other works. He also
examines the many doubtful or spurious works, among which those
preserved in an unedited manuscript in the Bodleian Library and
written in England about the year 1200, deserve further investigation
and independent evidence. 90 Fr Mikkers considers reliable the text
of the Mabillon edition (1690) and thinks variant readings from the
collation of manuscripts show only accidental differences. He considers
34 Gilbert of Hoyland

the text of the Florentine editions unreliable, however, because of

faulty readings of the manuscripts. The various reprints of Mabillon by
Migne exhibit misprints which vary with successive reprintings. The
Latin text in Oeuvres Complètes de Saint Bernard, accompanying the
French translation by P. Dion, repeats some misprints from Migne and
adds a few of its own.
For this English translation I have relied on Fr Mikkers' evaluation
of Mabillon's text. Textual problems are indicated in footnotes t o the
translation. No translation can hope to match the prose-poetry of a
work on the Canticle written 'after the manner and style of Blessed
Bernard'. Readers will recognize that 'the best of translations can
express, not the exact meaning of the original, b u t the closest
approximation possible in another tongue'. 9 1 Prudent librarians will
continue to find space for Mabillon and Migne, those extraordinary
giants of industry on whose shoulders we climb. Roger of Byland's
vocation letter, Lac parvulorum, was delightfully introduced and edited
by C. H. Talbot who had the benefit of notes made by the late
André Wilmart, a scholar to whom all Cistercian students are much
indebted. 8 9 We do need, however, a companion volume to this transla-
tion, written with an insight and love to match that with which
Amédée Hallier presented the writings and life of St Aelred. 9 0
To assist in the preparation of these volumes, I was given financial
assistance from the Research Board of the University of Manitoba, and
the firm and enthusiastic assistance of the board of editors of
Cistercian Publications. Any inadequacies in the work are mine.

[CistercianPublications regrets that technical difficulties have prevented

the use of accents in the notes to this volume—ed.]
 NOTES TO INTRODUCTION

1. Etienne Gilson, The Mystical Theology of Saint Bernard tr. A. H. C.

D o w n e s ( L o n d o n : Sheed and Ward, 1 9 4 0 ) 2 - 6 ; J e a n Leclercq, The Love of
Learning and the Desire for God: a study of monastic culture, tr. Catharine
Misrahi (N.Y.: F o r d h a m Press, 1 9 6 1 ) .
2. J . Leclercq, C. H. T a l b o t , H. M. Rochais, S. Bernardi Opera ( R o m e :
Editiones cistercienses, 1 9 5 7 - 5 8 ) vv. 1 - 2 ; E d m u n d Mikkers, Hilary Costello,
Joannis de Ford: super extremam partem Cantici Canticorum sermones CXX;
CC C o n t i n u a t i o Mediaevalis 17, 18 ( T u r n h o l t : Brepols, 1970) w . 1 - 2 ; J o a n n e s
Mabilion, Sancti Bernardi Opera Omnia ( 1 6 9 0 , rpt. Milan: G n o c c h i , 1 8 5 0 - 5 2 )
3 : 1 - 3 0 2 , Migne, PL 1 8 3 (Paris: 1854) 1 - 2 9 8 (hereafter Mab. and Migne).
3. E d m o n d Mikkers, 'De Vita et Operibus Gilberti de Hoylandia',
Citeaux 14 ( 1 9 6 3 ) 3 3 - 4 3 , 2 6 5 - 2 7 9 ; M. J e a n Vuong-dinh-Lam, ' D o c t r i n e spiri-
tuelle de Gilbert de Hloyland d'apres son c o m m e n t a i r e sur le C a n t i q u e '
(unpublished dissertation for the F a c u l t y of the Anselmianum, w . 1-2, R o m e ,
1 9 6 3 ) ; 'Le Monastere: foyer de vie spirituelle d'apres Gilbert de H o y l a n d ' ,
Coll. 26 (1964) 5-21; 'Les Observances Monastiques: i n s t r u m e n t s de vie spiri-
tuelle d'apres Gilbert de Hoyland', Coll. 26 (1964) 1 6 9 - 1 9 9 ; 'Gilbert de Hoy-
land', DSp (1967) 3 7 1 - 4 ; Pierre Miquel, 'Les Caracteres de l'Experience
Religieuse d ' a p r e s Gilbert de Hoyland', Coll. 27 (1965) 150-59 ( h e r e a f t e r L a m ,
Mikkers and Miquel).
4. Mikkers cites Cave, Lelong, Hardy, de Visch, t h e Acta Sanctorum
and Dictionary of National Biography for the claim that Gilbert was a m o n k at
Clairvaux; one may add David Knowles, C. N. L. B r o o k e and Vera C. M.
L o n d o n , The Heads of Religious Houses in England and Wales, 940-1216
(Cambridge U. Press, 1 9 7 2 ) 144, relying on C. Henriques, Menologium Cister-
ciense ( A n t w e r p , 1630) 172. Ailbe J, L u d d y claims Gilbert for Scotland a n d
Pastoret for Ireland, according t o Mikkers, b u t he is claimed for England by
H. Reiklinger's Lexikon, b y DNB and b y C. J . H o l d s w o r t h , in ' J o h n of F o r d and
English Cistercian Writing', Transactions of the Royal Historical Society 5 t h ser.
11 (1961) 1 2 2 ; the n e w edition of J o h n of F o r d b y E d m u n d Mikkers a n d
Hilary Costello, I:viii, calls him abbas quidam anglicanus.
5. Mikkers 3 4 , gives t h e history and vouches for the fidelity of this state-
m e n t to the original text of the larger Chronicle of Clairvaux n o w lost:
'Hie reverendus, egregius atque devotissimus et doctissimus pater dominus
Gislebertus, quondam abbas de Hoylandia in Anglia, fecit et composuit sermones
in hoc volumine contentos super Cantica Canticorum valde notabiliter et
scientifices in sequendo modum et stilum beati Bernardi. Etapud monasterium de
Rippatorio obiit anno Domini MCLXXII. '
6. C o m p a r e S 2 2 : 1 , with Bernard SC 4 0 : 4 and 4 5 : 1 - 3 ; S 3 3 : 6 , w i t h
Bernard SC 1 Off; S 2 0 : 1 , with Bernard Ep 2 : 2 ; SBOp 4 : 3 0 2 .
35
36 Gilbert of Hoyland

7. Knowles, Heads, 140.

8. Amedee Hallier, The Monastic Theology of Aelred of Rievaulx (CS 2,
Spencer, Mass. 1969) xxi, n. 9, David Knowles' introduction, p. x.
9. Mikkers, 36-7.
10. Walter Daniel's Life of Ailred, ed. and trans. F. M. Powicke (London:
Nelson, 1950) xxxix.
11. S 41:4.
12. Henri de Lubac, ExegeseMedieval (Paris: Aubier, 1959-64) 1:602-3, n. 1.
13. S 4 1 : 7 - 9 , Aelred, Spiritual Friendship (CF5, 1974).
14. , Knowles, Heads, 133-4 and 129; also C. H. Talbot, 'A Letter of Roger,
Abbot of Byland', ASOC 7 (1951) 219-21.
15. Talbot, 220 and n. 4; 222 and n. 2.
16. For the Congregation of Savigny and its impact on the Cistercian
Order, see Bennet D. Hill, English Cistercian Monasteries and their patrons in
the twelfth century (Urbana: U. of Illinois Press, 1968) 80-115, especially
98-107; see also Jacqueline Buhot, 'L'Abbaye Normande de Savigny', Moyen Age
46 (1936) 1-19, 104-121,178-190, 249-272.
17. Mikkers, 36-7.
18. David Knowles, J. K. D. St Joseph, Monastic Sites from the Air
(Cambridge U. Press, 1952) 90.
19. Talbot, 221 and n. 4 ; G . makes the same points, T 7 2 : 7 - 1 1 .
20. Mikkers, 37 nn. 3 1 , 3 2 .
21. Talbot, 219; Mikkers, 273 n. 93. 'The laws which governed the
modus epistolaris were observed in the composition of the most ordinary letters',
Leclercq, Love of Learning, 223 and 369 nn. 112-4; Leclercq notes Roger's
letter in 'Le genre epistolaire au moyen age', Revue du moyen age latin 2 (1955)
170 n. 5.
22. For Cis as Harsh, see T 7^:5; similar etymologies are frequent in
Gilbert. 'St. Jerome, followed by Isidore and numerous other compilers, had ex-
plained the etymology of place names and of the names of persons', Leclercq,
Love of Learning, 96.
23. See Ep 2.
24. Talbot, 221-2.
25. VCH, Lincolnshire, 145 and n. 10, 146 and n. 2.
26. See H. E. Hallam, Settlement and Society, (Cambridge U. Press,
1965) 58.
27. VCH, Lincolnshire, 145 and n. 10; for the benefactions of William of
Roumara, earl of Lincoln, see Hill, English Cistercian Monasteries, 35-6; for later
grants see Hallam, Settlement and Society, 58-9, 41 n. 2. 69, 147, 151, 156.
28. Jacqueline Buhot, 'L'Abbaye Normande de Savigny', 184.
29. Knowles, Monastic Sites, 78; for Swineshead, at p. 278, photographs
ET 58-60, this volume notes three air photographs in the Catalogue of Air
Photographs of Religious Houses in the Cambridge University Collection.
30. Hallam, Settlement and Society, 220-1 and passim.
31. See S 6:1, S 45:6, and index under abbot, prelate, preacher, teacher,
Cistercian.
32. Plurals of address are used throughout the one sermon not on the
Canticle, and in S 30, S 41, T 2 and T 3.
33. De Lubac, Exegese, 2:586, comments on S 30:5 and numerous other
passages, that the Church and the soul are inseparable in Gilbert as in Bernard.
Gilbert, who often directs his remarks to the individual in the community, is
cited by Cornelius a Lapide, Commentaria in Scripturam Sacram (re-ed, Augus-
tine Crampon, Paris: Vives, 1860) 7:603, 608; 8:69, 71, 72, 76, 79, 80, 116, 117,
118. In the first note to each sermon below, the audience is indicated; see also
'Nuns in the Audience of Gilbert of Hoyland', in SMC 11 (1976).
34. See S 16:4-5 and S 16:8.
 Notes to Introduction 37

35. Probably on the strength of this passage, S 40:2-3, Mikkers suggested

that this sermon may have been given to nuns, but see 'Nuns in Gilbert'. Aelred of
Rievaulx relates the story of the nun of Watton, reprinted in PL 195:789-95. See
also Powicke, Life of Ailred, lxxxi-lxxxii, and Aelred Squire, Aelred of Rievaulx
(London: SPCK, 1969) 117-8. Some authors misread Gilbert of Hoyland for
Gilbert of Sempringham in Aelred's account of the nun of Watton and the nun
with visions.
36. Mikkers, 39-40.
37. For Gilbert of Sempringham see Raymonde Foreville in DSp 6 (1967)
374-77, and Rose Graham, Saint Gilbert of Sempringham and the Gilbertines
(London: 1901). Sempringham is about ten miles southwest of Swineshead, an
easy journey on horseback over flat country. Two other priories of Gilbertine
nuns were also quite close: Catley, founded in 1148x54 and Haverhome, founded
in 1137 (Cistercian) and 1139 (Gilbertine), according to Knowles, Heads 201, 202.
About Swineshead, Dorothy M. Owen, Church and Society in Medieval Lincoln-
shire (Lincoln, 1971) 152, notes cryptically: 'Swineshead . . . Site known: modern
farmhouse'. Hilary Costello, 'Gilbert of Hoyland', Citeaux 27 (1976) 109-121,
notes that the site of the abbey 'lies about eight miles from the west bank of the
Wash. But in the mid-twelfth century the coastline was in places much closer to
the abbey, reaching possibly to Sutterton five miles to the southwest',
38. See S 37:3, S 6:1, S 7:1, S 31:7, S 46:2, S 23:3, also index under
'Cistercian'.
39. For this choice of defects see Mikkers, 38-9, and S 14:7, S 45:3,
S 47:8 and S 43:8. A psychological study would indicate Gilbert's insight into
some normal problems of monks; see the index e.g. for tedium, which is
generally accompanied by sadness, for distaste and disaffection. The great-
hearted Gilbert understood the foibles of humanity, St Paul's 'weariness in
well-doing', the need for freedom of conscience to develop in virtue. Gilbert
knew how to throw b o t h the light of understanding and the warmth of loving
humor and consolation on his brother monks in temptation and trial. He showed
himself both frankly realistic and helpfully approachable. With brother abbots he
was a man of the Rule and fearless in telling them what it meant. For a diction-
ary of Cistercian Sign Language as it has survived to the present century, see the
book of that title (CS 11, 1975).
40. For his formal treatise on ambition and presumption, see T 7^; for
Brother William, Ep 3; for successors of Roger, T 7^:10-11; for vain preachers,
S 27:2, S 31:4, S 36:6; for a niggardly bursar, T 7^:5; for the disaffected monk,
S 29:7, and the complaining nun, S 17:2. Gilbert questions the actions of
Alexander III, whose cause none the less he champions against the anti-pope
Victor IV, S 30:8, and see De Lubac, Exegese 3:520, n. 5.
41. See T 7^:6, Bernard also used the word grunnio, grunt like swine,
harrumph, of the brethren showing disapproval, as Talbot pointed out in
Sermones Inediti B. Aelredi Abbatis Rievallensis, Series Scriptorum S. Ordinis
Cisterciensis, V. 1 (Rome, 1952) p. 7, n. 4: Bene fecistis grunniendo, significare
quod minime ita sapiatis imo quod non ita desipiatis, ne in eo quod planum est
immoremur' (PL 183:970). For the bestiary, see J o h n Morson, 'The English
Cistercians and the Bestiary', Bulletin of John Rylands Library 39 (1956) 146-
170; A. Dimier, 'Menagerie Cistercienne' and 'Heraldique Cistercienne', Citeaux
24 (1973) 5-30, 267-282. See T 1:2, for the 'Archpoet'.
42. For the helmet-shaped honeycomb, S 41:5; the busy bee, S 41:6;
bees building honeycombs of more perfect and mystic doctrine, S 3 4 : 2 ; green
vegetables in a truck garden, S 37:2; the rose ever red, the white lily, the purple
violet, S 41:2; the rose amid thorns, S 32:3; the chemist and perfumer with
drugs and perfumes, mortar and pestle and cauldron, S 17:6; the scalpel of
physician and goldsmith, T 6:9; old silver tarnishing from neglect, S 17:6. The
38 Gilbert of Hoyland

tailor weaves and measures clothes for the raiment of the Word, S 3 4 : 8 ; the
chandler knows melting wax, how hot it is and how it runs, S 44:4-5, 7; the cob-
bler and blacksmith know how to turn shoes into a crown, S 21:5; the barber
knows locks and scissors for tonsuring and about baldness, S 23:1-2; the baker
knows about harvesting wheat, and leaven, S 4 1 : 7 ; c r u m b s from the table, T 3:7.
The spirit veers like a ship in the wind, S 38:6; fishermen know about harbors,
tides, dykes and sluice-gates mentioned so frequently, and the irrigator about
fountains and wells, and the need for well-diggers, S 37:4-5. The plowman appre-
ciated the multiple references to gardens and wheatfields and orchards, as the
cartwright knew the hayrack and the proud carriage, while the scribe remem-
bered the abbot's words: 'If the heart of a man be stretched like a parchment of
the sky, it will fold shut like a book and condense like a mist', T 3:7. The shep-
herd was alert for butting and attacking, for old wool and new fleece, for sheep-
shearing, to note sheep's teeth white and evenly matched, to know a dog's bark
from its bite, but what would he make of the 'martyrs who were sheep, cropping
their persecutors to store them in the bowels of the church'? S 23:6-8. S 24:1.
For the two nuns, see S 17:2-3; for the birdwatcher, T 7^:4.
43. For soldiering see S 16:2; walls and ramparts, S 35:2; towers and out-
works, S 35:2; mail, Ep 1:2; helmets, S 41:5; shields, S 26:8; swords and duel-
l i n g ^ 16:4-6.
44. See Roger Sherman Loomis, The Grail, from Celtic Myth to Christian
Symbol, (N. Y.: Columbia U. Press, 1963) 106, 179, 187, 189; A. Pauphilet,
Etude sur la queste del saint Graal, (Paris: 1921); M. Lot-Borodine, 'Les Grands
Secrets du Saint-Graal dans la Lumiere du Graal', Etudes et texts sous la direction
de Rene Nelli (Paris, 1951) 151-174, and Irenee Vallery-Radot, 'La Queste del
Saint Graal', Coll. 17 (1955) 201-213;Coll. 18 (1956) 3-20, 199-213, 321-32.
45. See S 38:1; also H. E. Hallam, Settlement, index under Swineshead,
and map 6 of south Lincolnshire in 1307; the map gives a good idea of the sweep
of the Wash, the dyking system and Swineshead Abbey not far from Holland Fen
and Holland Dyke which continued eastward to Sykemouth (A syke 'is a tract of
land unfit for tillage', p. 141, n. 1) and New Dyke which may date from 1170; see
R. A. Donkin, 'The marshland holdings of the English Cistercians before c. 1350',
Citeaux 9 (1958) 262-275.
46. See T 6:4, 9.
47. T 72:4, on the site of Stocking, for hills and mountains S 28:2-6;
gardens S 35-37;trees, flowers and plants S 36:1-2; S 37:2, S 39:5.
48. See T 7 2 : 4 ; for denique introducing RB 33, see Ep 3:1.
49. S 16:8, S 35:7, S 23:3.
50. S 47:2.
51. T 7^:10.
52. S 16:4.
53. Ep 2:3-4.
54. S 48:1.
55. S 47:2; G. refers to a decree of the General Chapter of 1137, which
requires the authorization of the General Chapter for writing books: 'Nulli liceat
abbati nec monacho nec novitio libros facere, nisi forte cuiquam in generali abba-
turn capitulo concessum fuerit', Statuta 1134. LVIII; J . M. Canivez, Statuta
Capitulorum Generalium Ordinis Cisterciensis (Louvain: 1933-39) 1:26 (cited by
Mikkers).
56. See S 36:3, for his quotation from Jerome, and Ep 3:6, for his request
for Jerome on Isaiah.
57. T 5.
58. S 31:2, S 32:2, S 13:3, also Prayers and Meditations of St Anselm,
tr. Benedicta Ward, (Penguin, 1975) 141-56, and Andre Cabussut, 'Une Devotion
peu connue', RAM 25 (1949) 234-45.
59. Gilson, Mystical Theology, 230; see S 37:8, where Gilbert quotes
Is 7:9 (LXX).
 Notes to Introduction 39

60. L a m , 'Gilbert o f Hoyland', in D S p 6 ( 1 9 6 7 ) 3 7 3 - 5 . S e e N. R . K e r ,

'Medieval Libraries o f Great Britain', Transactions of the Royal Hist. Soc.
1 9 6 2 ; M. A. Dimier. 'Les premiers cisterciens etaient-ils ennemis des etudes?'
Studia Monastica 4 ( M o n t f e r r a t : 1 9 6 2 ) 6 9 - 9 1 ; C. H. T a l b o t , ' T h e English
Cistercians and the Universities', Studia Monastica 4 ( 1 9 6 2 ) 1 9 7 - 2 2 0 ; C. R .
Cheney, 'English Cistercian Libraries: the first century', Medieval Texts and
Studies ( O x f o r d : Clarendon, 1 9 7 3 ) 3 2 8 - 3 4 5 ; E t i e n n e ' Gilson, ' R e g i o Dissi-
militudinis de Platon a Saint Bernard de Clairvaux', MS 9 ( 1 9 4 7 ) 1 0 8 - 1 3 0 .
61. Gilson, Mystical Theology, 2 3 0 ; Mikkers, 4 0 - 4 1 ; Miquel, 1 5 0 - 1 5 9 .
62. Miquel, 1 5 8 - 9 .
63. Gilson, Mystical Theology, 2 3 1 ; M.-Andre F r a c h e b o u d , 'Divinisation',
DSp 3 ( 1 9 5 7 ) 1407-8.
64. Name o f Christ, S 5 : 1 0 .
65. Lothaire II, S 3 0 : 6 .
66. Barbarossa, S 3 0 : 8 - 9 , S 3 8 : 4 .
67. Kings T 7 2 : 2 .
68. Officials, S 4 5 : 8 .
69. Mikkers, 4 2 - 3 ; see L. A. D e s m o n d , ' B e c k e t and the Cistercians',
Canadian Catholic Historical Association 35 (1968) 9-29.
70. Banquets, T 7 2 : 4 .
71. Starvation, S 3 8 : 1 - 2 .
72. See Mikkers, 4 2 - 4 3 .
73. Leclercq, Love of Learning, 139-184.
74. Handbook of Church History, eds. Hubert J e d i n arid J o h n Dolan, I V .
' F r o m the High Middle Ages to the Eve o f the R e f o r m a t i o n ' , Hans-Georg B a c k ,
Karl August F i n k , J o s e f Glazik, Erwin Iserloch, Hans Wolter, tr. Anselm Biggs,
(Herder, 1 9 7 0 ) 4 2 - 4 3 ; Gilson, Mystical Theology, 6 3 ; Sancii Bernardi Opera II,
Sermones super Cantica Canticorum, 3 3 - 8 6 , 'Introduction, Observations sur la
langue et le style de Saint Bernard', by Christine Mohrmann, ix-xxxiii.
75. PL 1 8 3 : 1 3 0 7 - 8 .
76. S 3 3 : 6 , and Bernard SC lOff.
77. S 2 2 : 1 , and Bernard SC 4 0 : 4 and 4 5 : 1 - 2 and 6 .
78. S 1:7, S 1:2.
79. S 1:3,S 4:2.
80. Gilson, Mystical Theology, 63.
81. De L u b a c , Exegese, 1:94-110, 2:657-667.
82. S 7:2.
83. Gilson, Mystical Theology, 229.
84. See CCCM 1 7 , Joannis de Forda pp. vii, 3 3 - 3 7 ; Eric Colledge, Hie
Mediaevel Mystics of England, (N. Y . : Scribner's, 1 9 6 1 ) 5 5 ; for litterarius sermo
see S 3 7 : 7 .
85. Seneca, Ep. mor. 9 : 1 1 . De Lubac, Exegese Medieval, 1 : 5 9 5 n. 9 , seems
to be musing on Gilson's c o m m e n t s on Gilbert in Mystical Theology, 230.
86. S 9:3.
87. L . Braceland, 'Nuns in the Audience o f Gilbert o f Hoyland', S M C 11
(1976).
88. A translation o f the Sermons o f J o h n o f Ford, based on the critical
edition o f Frs Mikkers and Costello appear in the Cistercian Fathers Series,
( V o l u m e I = C F 2 9 , 1 9 7 7 ) . See E, Mikkers 'Les sermons inedits de J e a n de F o r d ' ,
in Coll. 5 ( 1 9 3 8 ) 2 5 0 - 2 6 1 ; C. J . Holdsworth, ' J o h n o f F o r d and English Cister-
cian Writing, 1 1 6 7 - 1 2 2 4 ' , in Transactions of the Royal Historical Society,
5th series, 1 1 ( 1 9 6 1 ) 1 1 7 - 1 3 6 ; A. D „ ' J o h n o f F o r d ' , in Citeaux 21 (1970)
1 0 5 - 1 1 0 ; H. Costello, 'The idea o f the Church in the Sermons o f J o h n o f F o r d ' ,
Citeaux 2 1 ( 1 9 7 0 ) 2 3 6 - 2 6 4 , and ' J o h n o f F o r d and the Quest for Wisdom',
Citeaux 2 3 ( 1 9 7 2 ) 1 4 1 - 1 5 9 . See E . F a y e Wilson, 'Pastoral and Epithalamium in
Latin Literature', Speculum 2 3 ( 1 9 4 8 ) 3 5 - 5 7 , esp. 4 2 - 4 6 ; A. R o b e r t , R . T o u r n a y ,
40 Gilbert of Hoyland

A. Feuillet, Le Cantique des Cantiques (Paris: Gabalda, 1963) 387, 390ff, 432.
89. T 3:7, sermocinati sumus; several times Gilbert calls a sermon a
treatise, tractatus, though the word may mean the treatment of a text: S 43:9,
S 44:1, S 33:1, and tractaturus eram de transitu sponsae, S 7:1; for litterarius
sermo, see S 44:1.
90. Mikkers discusses the manuscripts, 269-71, and the doubtful or
spurious works, 273-79; de Lubac, Exegese Medieval 1:126, quotes from a
Prologue of an abbot Gilbert on the Gospel according to Matthew, 'whether this
be Gilbert of Stanford, Gilbert of Hoyland or some other' and refers to an
article of Jean Leclercq in MS 15 (1953) 102-3, which suggests the need of
further research and independent evidence for a judgement on these texts.
91. Bernard Longergan, Method in Theology (New York: Herder, 1972)
p. 71.
GILBERT OF HOYLAND

Volume One

ON THE
SONG OF S O N G S I

TEXT

41
 SERMON 1
PEACE AND LEISURE

The lover's quest for God requires peace and

leisure: 1. the affections of lovers prompt
varied outcries, which defy logical order;
2-3. the quest, the touch, the embrace, pre-
suppose the peace of the little bed of the
night; 4. the day of man and the day of God are.
at odds; 5. good is the night which hides from
us the sight of the ephemeral world; 6. but
many are those nights because interrupted by
the daylight of his presence; 7, bad and good
conscience differ in their love of the Beloved;
8, why the word 'soul' is so frequent in the
canticle of love.

IN MY L I T T L E B E D BY N I G H T , I S O U G H T HIM
WHOM MY SOUL LOVES1*

T
he affections of lovers are subject to
change, for their situations are subject
to change. So the cries of the bride at
times seem disjointed, for now according
to her longing she enjoys her Beloved but again
contrary to her longing she is bereft of him. In the
preceding verse she invites him to return over the
mountains, but here in her little bed she seeks him
when he has slipped away. What link will you pro-
pose for this sequence of events? What link in logic is
to be pointed out? Rather than a link there seems to
be a break in logic. The longings of love are not of one
form. So their expression is not bound by a chain of
43
44 Gilbert of Hoyland

logic. In love affection blurts out, then checks its

words, for affection does not always remain in one
self-consistent mood. Even the Bridegroom himself is
compared to a fawn, and rightly, because he so
deludes, so eludes his beloved. Hence the change in
her lacks neither sequence nor logic. Her cries,
though changing so suddenly, do not break the link
as long as they echo her changed affections.
Examine now amid change the links in the chain
of her longings. 2 Like a fawn carefree and nimble, he
had skipped over the mountain away from his
beloved; she in turn slipped back into herself f r o m
the mountains whereon she had been wondrously
enlightened and illumined by the sight of her
Beloved; from the mountains, yes she slipped back
into her bed of grief in the valley of tears, into her
bed and into the night from the mountains of light.
Why should she not so withdraw, when her Beloved
has so withdrawn? For in person he is the life and the
light of his bride. So at his retreat, she retreats t o her
little bed of infirmity and to her night of unknowing.
At last she tosses upon her couch of infirmity. Upon
her couch however, she recalls her Beloved. Not now
at dawning but at night she meditates on him, 3 seek-
ing the one her soul loves. Not indolent is her action
in this bed on which she has fallen. She is not wanton
nor does she dally on a bed of concupiscence; but she
struggles the more, mindful of her only Beloved, van-
quished not by infirmity but by charity. Whoever
approves this interpretation, may adopt it.
Personally, however, I do not here accept the bed
as one of grief, unless perhaps of that grief which
love begets for an absent spouse, for the bride seems
to wish to be allured rather than to be cured and to
have sought a friend rather than a physician. With
my interpretation you can proceed as follows: f r o m
the mountains he hurried to the little bed of his
bride where she, first aroused and then swooning
under the largess of delight, fell asleep exhausted in
the embrace of her Beloved. She slumbered in sweet
sleep, but awakened, this lady of delights did not find
him in her arms. So those joys, inexpressible joys,
 Sermon One 45

passing over in silence, at last she breaks into this

cry: 'In my little bed by night I sought him whom
my soul loves'. About the link with the previous
verse, let this now suffice.
2. Next let us weigh her words one by one: 'on
my little bed by night I sought him whom my soul
loves'. It is enchanting enough to seek you, good
Jesus, but more enchanting to hold you. 4 The
former is a devout task, the latter sheer joy. To
embrace you is surely enchanting, for your very
touch is rewarding. The woman of the Gospel by a
happy ruse touched the hem of Jesus' garment and at
once the flow of blood was staunched,* that flow of Lk 8:44.
carnal attraction, of carnal licentiousness and anxiety.
The fluid once coursing through her was dammed
and dried u p and all this she accomplished through
the touch of his garment. What if she had succeeded
in embracing his person? Not only would the flow
have been staunched and the blood congealed, but
there would have been an overflow of that gushing
stream which refreshes the city of God.* Good then Ps 45:5,
is a touch, but an embrace is better. In a crowd, in
public, with difficulty is Jesus touched. So the bride
who longs not only to touch but also to enfold and
embrace the Word of life, shuns the public and seeks
the privacy of her little bed at night.
A good work it is either t o seek or to hold Jesus,
but for this work a suitable time and place must be
found. What better place than one's little bed, what
time more fitting than by night, for the exercise of
love? Only with a calm mind can one seek the delight
of wisdom, for with a restless gaze one cannot focus
upon her. Nothing defiled* and indeed nothing wild Ws 7:25.
hastens t o her. But into a spirit restful and pure,
on her own, wisdom is wont to hasten and enter
gratuitously. For in peace is her place and her dwell-
ing is in Sion,* that is in contemplation. 5 How will Ps 75:3.
an eye irritated b y anger or anxiety gaze upon the
unapproachable light which is penetrated only by
a clear mind and not always at its own good pleasure?
What then has peace to do with a little bed, you
ask. Much indeed, in the sense that, as in a little bed
46 Gilbert of Hoyland

so no less in peace, one sleeps and rests. As the

psalmist says: 'In peace in the self-same I shall
sleep and rest'. 6 Why should a holy soul not will-
ingly rest where her Beloved has his place? For in
peace is his place. So first win this place for your-
self, that there you may entertain your soul's
Beloved when he slips in or thence seek him when he
slips out. For in one's little bed and in the mind's
hidden retreat, he can be traced more freely, found
more quickly, held more securely and perhaps de-
tained for a longer spell, if indeed any spell be long
in delights which practically at their inception are
wont t o be interrupted. For the bride too, swooning
as it were in the midst of embraces and then pursuing
these fleeting delights, again fretfully seeks her
beloved and seeks him in her little bed.
You too are in a good place upon your bed, if in
leisure your mind is freely relaxed from its labors.
What is more suited to the exercise of love than
freedom and leisure? For freedom engenders attrac-
tion and in leisure affection is likewise liberated and
awarded no little assistance. This is beyond dispute.
The more the spirit is freed from harness, the more it
will hasten towards what it loves. In practice, when-
ever we recover our leisure, then we feel the more
keenly the spur of divine love. Contrariwise, frequent
preoccupation with the world almost blunts the
affections and makes the spirit callous. 7 Preoccupa-
tion entangles, repose unravels the spirit. If disen-
tangled, to what heights do you think our desires
might range?
3. Do you see how many blessings may be stored
in a little bed? Repose, freedom, affectivity. For on
the little bed of repose and respite, longings burn the
more ardently. A place suited to the charm of charity
prompts the bride to seek more ardently. For there
she is bereft of her beloved with greater anguish,
where she could enjoy him with greater fruitfulness.
'On my little bed' she says, and 'by night'. Because
she seeks him by night, in my view her quest is less
for the sight of him than for his embrace. She desires
rather t o hold him than to behold him. To behold is
 Sermon One 47

indeed good, but to enfold unites more intimately,

for 'he who clings to the Lord becomes one spirit
with him'.* Yet both actions together are better, for 1 Co 6:17.
then they enrich each other in turn with increase
of grace.
If you think you are unlikely to attain both, make
yours the quest of the bride: seek the embraces of
the Beloved. The night of your unknowing, or rather
the nights of your unknowings, rob you of the clear
vision of heavenly mysteries. Seek consolations; seek
to experience them, if you cannot know them. Night
does not inhibit delights, for sometimes it is illu-
minated by them, for 'night' says the psalmist, 'is my
illumination in my delights'.* 'In my delights' he Ps 138:11,
says, not 'in knowledge'. Endeavor then, to illumine
the night if not with knowledge then with delights.
Whatever we see on earth in a mirror and in riddles,
all is in the night. Even in this night my Jesus can be
more gently experienced with tender affection than
known face to face. 8 Though one be not yet ad-
mitted to his sight, still by seeking the Beloved in
one's bed by night, one may try to embrace him.
4. What if night also contributes to the dis-
covery of the Beloved? For night does collaborate
and very appositely. As you interpret the little bed
to be the leisure of holy repose, so consider the
night to be a kind of forgetfulness. 9 Each provides
an occasion for the exchange of wisdom and contem-
plation. Solomon wishes you to write of wisdom
only in time of leisure, while Paul strains forward to
what lies ahead only when he has forgotten what lies
behind.* Are you surprised that the night is good Si 38:25;
p
and the day evil? 'The day of man' says the prophet, hm3:13.
'I have not desired'.* Somehow the day of the Lord Jr 17:16.
and the day of man are opposed to each other and
each hides itself in the other, for when one dawns the
other fades away. 'I have not desired the day of
man', that is the applause of men, human glory, to
appear respected among others, even above others.
Rightly the prophet renounces this day, because it
provides a source of disturbance. Better than the day
then, is this night, since night conceals a man from
48 Gilbert of Hoyland

the disturbance to which the day exposes him. In

Genesis, as soon as our first parents opened their
Gn3:7. eyes to this daylight, they blushed in confusion.*
How much happier were they previously when they
kept their eyes closed, and when under cover of a
better night, they knew not sin's concupiscence!
Thence this evil day drew its origin, for it laid bare
the paths of vice, exposed alluring shapes and
presented fascinating objects to the eye of concu-
piscence.
Alas, how this day glitters around me, how it
ensnares my affection! In what a naked light and
how importunately do wild and lascivious images
parade before the eyes of the mind! There is
practically nowhere to turn aside, nowhere to hide;
no hiding place is secure enough. From all sides there
break and emerge into consciousness, whether deli-
berately welcomed or lightly brushed aside, all the
images which trouble and defile the spirit. For
though the spirit with stricter resolution may repel
them, still it is sullied by the mere touch of these
marauding thoughts. 'Whoever touches pitch shall
Si 13:1. be defiled by it.'* According to the statutes of the
Law, even the slightest touch of some objects causes
Lv 4:8. defilement.* Such thoughts, since they are intro-
duced by force, are not charged to our account and
do not imply guilt, though they inflict some harm
on the purity t o which we aspire. What results when
images of the body pour into a contemplative spirit?
Perhaps they do not arouse carnal desire, b u t they do
impede spiritual vision. Some images trouble, others
defile, others impede; that is they wound, allure or
deceive. Would not everything of the kind be better
concealed than illustrated, 1 0 cloaked in the blind
shadow of oblivion rather than catalogued by heart?
5. Good then is the night which in discreet
forgetfulness disguises all things ephemeral, schedul-
ing a time and providing an occasion to seek him
who is eternal. Good is the night which conceals the
concupiscence of the world, its anxiety, its thoughts.
This is indeed to keep the world hidden or to be
hidden from the world. We also can be so concealed
 Sermon One 49

in the shelter of your presence, O Lord,* I do not Ps 30:21

say with full knowledge, but with all devotion and
free enquiry and some discovery. Our withdrawal,
our concealment, our hiding-places, by which we shun
either the love or the fancy of worldly daylight and
by which we do not retrieve the world's day once
abandoned and scorn the world's day when proffered,
these in my opinion, are here termed night by the
bride. For in an earlier verse she says: 'I sat beneath
the shadow of him whom I desired and his fruit was
sweet t o my palate'.* S 2:3,
His fruit gives tasty nourishment, provided his
shadow has previously given cover. Good is his sha-
dow, which conceals the prudence of the flesh and
chills concupiscence. Do you understand the mean-
ing of shadow? The passage offers you a brilliant
pretext to consider 'shadow' and 'night' as synony-
mous, except that some hiding-places, better screened
and camouflaged, more suited to the exercise of
enquiry and contemplation, are expressed by the
word 'night' rather than by 'shadow'. By the word
'shadow' understand some forgetfulness of the visible
world and by the word 'night' total oblivion. Who will
grant me so t o progress towards the dusk? Who, I
ask, will grant that my remembrance of an ephem-
eral world may fade into the dusk of this oblivion?
Good indeed is the night when empty phantasies
neither torment the spirit nor flutter within it, when
they are concealed from the eyes of one seeking the
Beloved. Perfect love itself entices this night, for
it neither notices nor acknowledges as acquaintances
the rest of the world, as long as it sighs without dis-
traction for him it loves.
6. 'By night', says the bride. Her nights are many;
hers is not one single night, continuous and unin-
terrupted. Frequently her nights are graced by the
presence of the Bridegroom. His presence is daylight;
his absence is night. So for the bride her nights are
many, since the Bridegroom often eludes her, often
goes into hiding. Obviously blessed is the bride who
clings to her Beloved each livelong day and seeks him
throughout each long-lived night. Let her actions, as
50 Gilbert of Hoyland

you hear of them, prompt your rivalry and, taught

by the example of the bride, do you also 'arise in the
night, in the beginning of your Vigils, and pour out
Lm 2:19. your heart',* that it may melt and flow and run even
to the sight of your God. To him consecrate the
beginnings of your vigils; let no errant distractions
pluck a moment of your self.
Seek your Beloved each and every night. Why do I
say each and every night? Throughout every single
livelong night persevere throughout this task. Do not
pause and d o not rest until your Beloved rises like the
¡s 62:1. dawn and is enkindled for you like a wedding-torch.*
Then you can sing the verse of St Paul: 'the night is
far gone, the day is at hand', although his next verse,
Rm 13:12. 'let us then cast off the works of darkness',* cannot be
applied t o a night such as this. For this night knows
not the works of darkness, but rather holds a torch
for those who persevere in the race in quest of the
Beloved. 11 Good indeed is the night when you are
hidden f r o m the riot and the assault of fantasies. And
though you are not yet hidden in the shelter of your
Beloved's presence, still it is good that from you is con-
cealed the ostentatious presence of vain and carnal
thoughts. Night falls that you may not notice, may
not see that presence. Still in thif night your lamp will
not be extinguished that you may seek your Beloved.
7. Would that I might enumerate as my own
such nights, so concealing and so revealing! Who
among us will boast that all his nights are so spent?
Happy the man whoever he is, if all his nights fly past
in such . exercise and who in private does nothing
which requires concealment. Let every one consult
his own conscience. Why should I wound the con-
1 Co 8:12. science of another, if it is weak?* I neither wound
nor probe such a conscience. Weak though it.be, at
least let it not be corrupt. Let conscience not enact or
even think in private what it is indecent even t o men-
tion. The sickbed of such a conscience Jesus knows
not how to visit. A shameful conscience insults him
and chases him off. The blush of a guilty conscience,
far from beckoning him, rather dodges him. What
seeks him however is charity arising f r o m a pure
 Sermon One 51

heart and a good conscience.* This is confirmed by 1 Tm 1:5.

our verse: 'I sought him whom my soul loves'.
Nothing is more secure than a good conscience. A
good conscience is bold for its love is not cold; it lives
without fright, for love sets it alight; it does not
blush before the Beloved, for love trusts the Beloved.
Great is the power of love. It does not rely on an-
other's favor but is satisfied with its own deserts.
Conscious that it loves, it assumes that it always
loved. In the Canticle, disregarding his other titles of
distinction, the bride mentions only her 'Beloved',
because in a special way she endures within the ardor
of his love.
8. Notice how frequently, whatever the mystery,
she recalls the word 'Beloved'. 'My Beloved is radiant
and ruddy', and 'Such is my Beloved',* and in the Sg 5:10, 5:16.
present verse, 'whom my soul loves'. Great assuredly
is the charm of this word. It is no surprise if what
glows in her heart overflows from her lips. In the
same way also she reflects on her soul. For she loves
not only in word but also in her heart, not in deed
alone but especially in affection. Now what is meant
by her mention of 'soul' rather than 'spirit'? Perhaps
she did not yet cling to her Beloved whom she was
still seeking, for 'he who clings to the Lord is one
spirit with him'.* Indeed nowhere in the entire Canti- 1 Co 6:17.
cle does she use the word 'spirit', but she says, 'My
soul melted' and 'my soul was troubled' and, fre-
quently in the present verse, 'he whom my soul
loves'.* Even this verse she almost never uses, except Sg 5:6, 6:11, 3:1.
when she seeks him in his absence or complains of
his absence.
By these terms several degrees of perfection are
differentiated: a soul more perfect and a soul less
perfect. The apostle says: 'An unspiritual man does
not receive the gifts of the Spirit of God'. 1 2
Personally I would never call unspiritual this soul, 13
so ardently in love, so fervent in her quest, for though
still without full vision yet with ever increasing desire,
she clings to him whom she passionately loves. But
as we can aptly consider 'spirit' t o mean a subtle and
refined understanding, so we can consider 'soul' to
52 Gilbert of Hoyland

mean a gentle and tender a f f e c t i o n . T h e Lord

promises us through the p r o p h e t : 'I will give y o u a
Ezk 11:19. heart of flesh'.* If t h e n in some passage, the w o r d
'flesh' can be understood in a good sense, w h y not
still more the word 'soul'? In calling this soul
blessed w i t h o u t reservation, personally I w o u l d consi-
der hers a soul of flesh rather than of stone, possess-
ing neither stubbornness nor harshness, b u t s o f t ,
tender, pliant, and sensitive t o each and every arrow
f r o m the divine Word. Indeed with J o b she m a y
Jb 6:12. say ' n o t of bronze is my flesh',* b u t t h r o u g h it a
sword of t h e spirit m a y pass and she may rejoice in
Heb 4:12. having been w o u n d e d b y charity.* Rightly then does
the bride claim that her soul is in love, for she desires
t o express her intimate, vivid and lively a f f e c t i o n
towards her beloved Lord, Jesus Christ, w h o lives
and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.
 NOTES TO SERMON ONE

1. G. addresses one individual throughout (videte of par. 2 needs emenda-

tion to vide tu or videsne). He discusses the link between Sg 2:17 and Sg 3:1, as if
continuing his own oral or written comments on Sg 1-2. The key words of his
first sentence, the affections of lovers, affectus amantium are found in Seneca,
Ep. mor. 9:11. For hinnulus, the fawn or young stag, see T. H. White, The
Bestiary, (N.Y,: Putnam's, 1960), p. 39, hereafter cited as White.
Although G. does not mention Bernard, his Sermons first overlap and then
continue Bernard, who commented on Sg 3:1-4 in SC 75-79, and returned for
further reflections on Sg 3:1 in SC 80-86. At Bernard's death in 1153, G. who had
already been an abbot for some three to six years, was apparently already giving
an oral and/or a written explanation of the Canticle for his monks. Encouraged or
commissioned to publish (see Mikkers 267, and G. S 47:2), he seems t o have con-
tinued his own work from a natural break at the beginning of Sg 3:1. Bernard's
manner and style, which G. is credited with following, is discussed by Christine
Mohrmann, 'Observations sur la langue et le style de Saint Bernard', SBOp II,
ix-xxxv, and by Jean Leclercq in the intro. to CF 7, vii-xxx, with references to G.
p. xix. G's first eight sermons form a group which he summarizes in the last
paragraph of S 8: the bride searches until she finds the Bridegroom; in his next
group of sermons, S 9-14, he stops to dwell on the scene as the bride holds the
Bridegroom tenui eum . . . Sg 3:4. In his third group of sermons, S 15-21, G.
actually addresses or uses the literary device of addressing a group of nuns, as he
explains the words of the chorus of the 'daughters of Jerusalem' in the Canticle,
Sg 3:6-11.
2. On affection of the heart, see Jean Chatillon cordis affectus in DSP 2
(1953) 2280-2300.
3. Ps 62:1, 6; enumeration of the Vulgate is followed throughout for the
Psalms. On 'memory of blessings' see P. Debongnie, 'Meditation des Bienfaits de
Dieu', in DSp 1 (1937) 1608-18.
4. Bone Jesu, the most frequent apostrophe to the Lord in G,; this and
the following sentences are cited by St Bonaventure and attributed to St Bernard
according to Lam; see Comment, in Ev. Lucae, c. 8, Opera omnia, (Quaracchi,
1895) 7:211.
5. See Jean Leclercq, 'Vocabulaire monastique', 82-85, under speculatio,
and de Lubac, Exegese Medieval 2 (1959) 633.
6. Ps 4:9. Bellarmine on the Psalms, (Paris: Vives, ed, 1861) cites Jerome
and others who translate idipsum as the 'self-same' but Augustine who translates
it as 'God' as in Ps 101:12, 27, 28. See also Aug. Med. v. 22, c. 37, p. 621 (Paris:
Vives, 1861); I owe the reference t o Fr Ambrose Davidson OCSO.
7. The- metaphor is from classical Latin, e.g. Seneca, Quintilian; Cicero
writes callum ducere animo, but G. menti, a word not distinguishable in meaning
53
54 Gilbert of Hoyland

from animum in his next line. G. disguises his knowledge of classical authors.
8. See G. S 2:8, S 23:1. See Miquel p. 154, n. 13.
9. Leclercq, Of/a Mcmastica, pp. 128-9 n. 67, notes in comparison with
others, particularly with William of St Thierry, the great frequency of G.'s
words of repose; see Lam, 'Le Monastere: foyer de vie spirituelle', Coll. 26
(1964) 21 n. 90 for quies, n. 91 for otium, n. 91 for lectulus, n. 93 for vacatio.
10. Add esset, as noted in Mabillon and Migne.
11. 1 Co 9:25, 2 Tm 2:5, third antiphon of the first nocturn for the
Octave of All Saints: Sanctum est verum lumen et admirabile, ministrans lucent
his qui permanserunt in agone certaminis. For liturgical texts in G. see Lam
'Les observances monastiques: instruments de vie spirituelle', Coll. 26 (1964)
171 n. 8; hereafter Lam.
12. 1 Co 2:14, Animalis autem homo non percipit ea quae sunt Spiritus
Dei. Here G. distinguishes the anima in animalis homo, the vital principle of the
body, from the spiritus, a higher aspect of the anima, which can be united with
the Spirit of God.
13. Mab. reads animam meam where G. means the anima mea in his text;
Migne changes animam meam t o animam hanc for clarity.
 SERMON 2
T H E RESTLESS QUEST

Resting, the lover restlessly seeks the Beloved.

1. The narrow bed of the heart does not
welcome an adulterer with the Beloved. 2. What
is the little bed of conscience? How passing
and slight are peace and liberty of mind in
this body! 3. The night means not fear but
hope in the Lord. 4. The little bed has three
senses like three degrees of contemplative
prayer; 5. in her bed love yields neither to
weakness of nature not to adversity (an inter-
pretation appropriate for religious). 6. At rest,
love never rests until she finds her little bed in
the Beloved; 7. he is the little bed for little ones,
the nest for fledglings by his cross and crown;
8. morally, the occasion, the action, and the
motive for love are here.

IN MY L I T T L E B E D BY N I G H T , I S O U G H T HIM
WHOM MY S O U L L O V E S . * Sg3:l.

F
rom yesterday's passage, let me celebrate
with you the b a n q u e t for t o d a y . For not all
was said there which appears worth saying;
some points were not even touched. In this
sermon let us take u p two points worth discussion:
why does the bride say 'in a little b e d ' and not in 'a
bed', and why 'in my little bed', for elsewhere she
was w o n t t o say 'in our little bed'.* Count these Sg 1:16.
points as your principal; if, however, I add some
fresh insights into topics already discussed, consider
55
56 Gilbert of Hoyland

this a kind of interest. What hidden meaning is im-

plied, do you suppose, in the bride's words, 'in a
little bed'? Does the phrase conceal some suggestion
of praise or of blame? Though the diminutive can
imply either alternative, here however I am more
ready to adopt the suggestion of praise. Let us
turn our discussion, then, first to this interpretation.
Clearly in the diminutive I understand some nar-
rowing, so that the little bed is large enough for only
the Beloved with the bride. Why not interpret
narrowing in a good sense, if a widening of the
couch is turned into a reproach? 'You have spread
wide your couch', the Lord says through the prophet,
'you have welcomed an adulterer beside me'. 1 You
see how, with rebuke and reproach, the expansion
of her couch is charged against the adulterous soul.
It is good then not to expand but rather to contract
the couch of one's thought and the little bed of one's
heart. Rightly then the bride congratulates herself on
her little bed. 'The couch is so narrow', says Isaiah,
'that the one or the other may fall out and the short
Is 28:20. blanket cannot cover both'.* 'Both' means the
husband and the adulterer. Indeed the heart of man
is confined and narrow in welcoming the delights of
God's Word, even when his heart is wide open for
those delights. 2 Will not your heart be much more
confined, if it is opened wide to other pleasures?
However confined it may be, let it be shared only by
your Beloved. Do not make narrowness more narrow
by sharing your little bed with another.
Good is the confinement of this little bed which
knows how t o welcome only its Beloved, that is,
Christ alone. Indeed there is a narrowness which
knows how to welcome him only, and a narrowness
which is unable t o welcome him fully. The former is
characteristic of charity and discipline, but the latter
of natural weakness. Both kinds of narrowness can
be understood of the little bed, either that whereby
the bed excludes other lovers than the Beloved, or
that whereby the bed cannot include him fully.
Certainly great is the pleasure of the little bed b u t
great also its narrowness; therefore with good reason
 Sermon Two 57

is it called 'little bed' rather than 'bed'.

2. Delightful is the little bed of which one reads
in Proverbs: 'A carefree mind is a perpetual feast'.* Pr 15:15,
Outside is the night, outside the hurricane, but inside
tranquillity like a little bed of repose. There is no
need to repeat here the lament: 'Outside the sword
slays and indoors is like death'.* Rather, if outside is Lm 1:20.
a sword, inside is rejoicing: 'Rejoicing in hope', says
the apostle, 'patient under tribulation'.* Tribulation Rm 12:12.
is attributed to the night, hope and rejoicing to the
little bed. Perhaps for this reason the bride says not a
'bed' but a 'little bed', the diminutive term, because
practically all our rejoicing is still in hope and imper-
fect. Good then is the little bed, repose and purity of
conscience. The heart of the wicked is like a raging
sea which cannot rest; his waves churn up the mire
and muck. Thus the heart of the wicked is storm-
tossed, wasting away, muddy and ever wrestling with
itself. There is no peace for the wicked,* whereas the Is 57:20-1.
kingdom of God is justice and peace.* 'In peace in Rm 14:17.
the self-same', says the psalmist, 'I shall sleep and take
my rest; you Lord, have specially confirmed me
in h o p e ' . * Ps4:9,10.

The word 'hope' contains both the little bed and

rejoicing, for in hope we rejoice and in hope we take
our rest. But whence comes hope save from the
assurance of conscience? With good reason I would
call the little bed a mind assured and free: assured
because of a good conscience but free from tempta-
tion, free from exterior occupations, free from fri-
volous thoughts. How much liberty and peace of
mind can exist in this body of ours? Slight liberty
and brief peace, as if on a narrow little bed. Much of
our freedom and repose is filched by our need for
bodily refreshment; much by our anxiety to provide
necessities, by the time devoted to meals, by some
disaster threatening the soul, and by causes still
undetected. 'One thing is our boast', says Paul, 'the
evidence of our conscience'.* Truly he had placed 2 Co 1:12.
himself on a pleasant little bed. 'I have nothing on
my conscience', he says. But the more he enlarges
and extends one side the more he narrows and
58 Gilbert of Hoyland

contracts the other: 'But that does not mean that

1 Co 4:4. I stand acquitted. My judge is the Lord'.* You see
how Paul makes bold to say, 'Our heart has been
2 Co 6:11. opened wide'.* You see how his respect for the
judgement of God restrains the boast and witness
of his conscience.
3. Rightly then is the little bed a mind un-
troubled but nowise proud; quiet, not puffed up,
having an honest appreciation of itself without
Rm 12:16. straining for ideas beyond it,* but rather keeping
itself ever on guard against the night of the un-
predictable judgement. 'In my little bed by night'
says the bride; many a night but one little bed, for
Ps 33:20. 'many are the tribulations of the righteous'..* Yet as
if unaware and unheeding, 'they sleep and take their
rest' in one little bed, in that one hope of our voca-
Eph 4:4. tion in which we have been called.* Night after night
passes, but they do not abandon the little bed of
Ps '>6:2.
their tranquillity 'until all iniquity passes away'.*
Many are the nights and deep the darkness, yet they
are not afraid or alarmed at the depth of night,
because they hope in the Lord. They are in no fear
of the nights who rest in the little-bed of this hope.
For God too knows how to inspire songs in the night
Jb 35:10. Ps 41:9. of tribulation and by night he sends his canticle.*
Now you have learned why the bride speaks of
nights and why in the plural, and why she speaks of a
'little bed' and why in the singular.
4. Next learn why she calls the bed 'mine'. Yes,
hers in the singular, her single bed as long as she is
Ps 4:10. singularly established in hope.* But when reality
approaches or better displaces hope, when at last
though partially she holds the Beloved, then this
little bed of the bride is no longer hers but shared
instead by Bridegroom and bride. Hers it is when she
reposes alone without the Beloved; shared it is when
he is present. It is the bride's own when with calm,
peaceful, and composed behavior, in self-awareness
she takes her rest. It is shared when she begins at last
to find her delight in the Bridegroom.
Perhaps there is also a bed reserved for the Bride-
groom alone, when his beloved, wholly forgetful of
 Sermon Two 59

herself and stripped of herself, passes wholly into

him and is, as it were, robed in h i m . 3 In her own
little bed she neither flows out of herself nor is she
storm-tossed within herself. In the shared little bed
some waves of delight flow over her f r o m the
presence of the Bridegroom. In the bed reserved for
the Bridegroom alone, 4 melting in t h e fire of the
Bridegroom's love she bubbles up and overflows as
liquid and vapor. She flows wholly into him and is
absorbed into a similar quality. 5 In her own bed she
is at h o m e alone; in t h e shared bed the Bridegroom
is at h o m e with her; in his bed she is entirely at h o m e
with him and, if one may say so, there exists n o one
b u t t h e Beloved. In the first bed she seeks him, in the
second she clings to him, in t h e third she is united
with him. In the first she possesses her o w n tran-
quility, in t h e second she merits s o m e sharing with
her Beloved, in t h e third she is assumed and absorbed
i n t o s o m e u n i o n of charity and grace. This third
little b e d is b e t t e r t h a n the second, t o the e x t e n t
t h a t u n i o n is m o r e intimate t h a n sharing. Yet even
t h e first is good, f o r it opens t h e way t o t h e others.

5. But if y o u prefer t o interpret t h e b e d as the

enticements of carnal weakness, y o u m a k e n o mis-
take and present no difficulty in developing t h a t
sense. In this sense t h e little bed belongs to the bride
alone and is n o t shared with the Bridegroom. Al-
though we k n o w Christ according t o t h e flesh, we d o
not k n o w h i m according t o the concupiscence of t h e
flesh. He does indeed share with us a nature of flesh
b u t n o t the e n t i c e m e n t s of the flesh. He did n o t de-
cline the b e d o f our pain b u t he did n o t recline as far
as t o feel our pleasure. So w h e n the bride refers to
t h e little bed, in y o u r i n t e r p r e t a t i o n she says ' o n my
b e d ' and n o t 'on our b e d ' , n o t one shared in com-
m o n . True, we d o read in a n o t h e r passage, 'Our bed
is all flowers'.* T h e bed t h e y share is all flowers with Sg 1:16.
n o t h i n g of age, n o t h i n g of c o r r u p t i o n . But w h e n she
speaks of her own bed, there is n o m e n t i o n of a
flower. It is all the bride's own b u t it is far f r o m
fragrant; t o her it seems full n o t of blossoms but of
brambles. A sorry enough plight is this, even were it
60 Gilbert of Hoyland

no more than corruption, b u t in f a c t hardship is

added to w e a k n e s s and the distress is d o u b l e d : t h e
little b e d and the night, weakness and hardship. Y e t
great is the p o w e r o f love f o r n e i t h e r o f t h e s e can
vanquish love, neither i n b o r n w e a k n e s s n o r i n f l i c t e d
hardship. S h e is n e i t h e r i m p r i s o n e d b y her b e d nor
terrified b y t h e night b u t ' u p o n her b e d and night
a f t e r night she seeks him w h o m her soul loves'.
This verse seems m o s t c h a r a c t e r i s t i c o f c l o i s t e r e d
b r e t h r e n , b e c a u s e u n t r o u b l e d b y a n x i e t y t h e y have
their tiny c o t and b e c a u s e lost and hidden in a c r o w d
t h e y e n j o y the o b s c u r i t y o f t h e night. H o w e v e r un-
usual some b r o t h e r ' s w a y o f life m a y b e , it is s o m e -
h o w hidden when the sum t o t a l o f t h e b r e t h r e n rises
t o an equal height, a c c o r d i n g t o the p r o p h e c y a b o u t
our S a v i o u r : ' T h e y walk in darkness and f o r t h e m
there is n o light', t h a t is n o light o f h u m a n praise, t h a t
the m o r e freely ' t h e y m a y h o p e in t h e n a m e o f t h e
Is 50:10; L o r d and rely u p o n t h e i r G o d ' . * T h e i r ' c o u n t e n a n c e
Lam 13, n. 48. ig h i d d e n _ Wherefore we think nothing of
Is 53:3. t h e m ' , * especially since i n t e r i o r l y t h e y t h i n k n o t h i n g
of themselves and exteriorly do not adapt them-
selves t o t h e ways o f t h e w o r l d . T h e y are not avid for
glory f r o m the lips o f m e n b u t o n l y f o r t h e glory
which comes from God, as we read in John,
'I d o n o t seek m y o w n g l o r y ' , and in Paul, ' L e t h i m
Jn 8:50; 2 Co 10: w h o glories glory in the L o r d ' . * T h a t is t o say, l e t him
wn i o " ^ ^ ' n o t ac 1u'esce ^ e applause o f m e n r a t h e r t h a n in
the gifts o f t h e L o r d . L e t him n o t adulterate in a n y -
thing t h e j o y s o f spiritual glory b y an a d m i x t u r e o f
h u m a n applause b u t let h i m b e grateful t o t h e L o r d
and seek glory in h i m , f o r this is t o seek t h e L o r d .
S u c h a o n e has tranquillity as his c o t and h u m i l i t y as
his night. G n a w i n g cares d o n o t f l u t t e r a r o u n d h i m
and a t t a c k s o f restlessness d o n o t p r o v o k e h i m ; b u t
for him all is his c o t and t h e n i g h t ; all is p e a c e a n d
Lam 20, n. 86. repose and r e t i r e m e n t . *

6. Is this e n o u g h ? E n o u g h perhaps for a l a b o r e r

but n o t f o r a lover. S w e e t i n d e e d is sleep t o the
Qo 5:11. l a b o r e r . * B u t a lover's fretfulness d o e s n o t allow h i m
t o sleep; it dispels drowsiness and brings on w a k e f u l -
ness. Love is made more restless by rest itself.
 Sermon Two 61

Temptation rests, b u s i n e s s rests, distress rests, b u t

love knows not how t o rest. T h e n its sweet fire
grows m o r e vigorous a n d its d e v o u r i n g f l a m e emerg-
ing f r o m its hiding-place ranges m o r e freely t h r o u g h
t h e r e l a x e d spirit, p e n e t r a t i n g m o r e d e e p l y a n d c o n -
s u m i n g m o r e h u n g r i l y . W e l c o m i n g its c h a n c e , love
c a n n o t b u t p r a c t i s e its c r a f t . Love always either en-
joys the Beloved w h e n p r e s e n t or y e a r n s f o r h i m
when absent.
'In t h e day of m y distress', says t h ? p s a l m , 'I
sought God with outstretched hands'.* Far dif- Ps 76:3.
f e r e n t is t h e m o t i v e f o r q u e s t w h i c h t h e b r i d e n o w
p r o p o s e s . Distress d o e s n o t drive h e r b u t a f f e c t i o n
d r a w s h e r . T h e sage in t h e p s a l m seeks t h e L o r d t o
c o u n t e r his distress; t h e b r i d e seeks h e r Beloved for
t h e e n c o u n t e r a n d delight of love. Yes, b o t h t h e little
b e d of r e p o s e a n d t h e hiding-place of night r e f e r t o
this, t h a t she m a y constantly recall h e r Beloved,
calmly savor his w i s d o m and taste his sweetness.
T h e r e f o r e m u c h m o r e c o m p e l l i n g is t h e m o t i v e for
search in o n e e n a m o r e d t h a n in o n e in n e e d , t h o u g h
o n e can rightly claim t h a t w i t h a k i n d of h o l y greed
love is always in n e e d . Ever on fire f o r deeper
mysteries and disregarding its p r e s e n t possessions,
love t u m b l e s f o r w a r d h e a d over heels t o w h a t lies
a h e a d a n d like a living h o o p , l i g h t - h e a r t e d l y , b o u n d s
upward w i t h all its m i g h t t o t h e heights, scarcely
touching the e a r t h . Even in Paul, love d o e s not
c o n s i d e r t h a t it has r e a c h e d t h e g o a l ; pressing o n w a r d
to what lies a h e a d Paul f o l l o w s like an animated
wheel w h e r e t h e spirit of b u r n i n g desire sweeps h i m
f o r w a r d . * O n g o o d evidence, ' w h e n a m a n reaches Ph3:15.
his goal, he has j u s t begun'.* In o u r t e x t also, Si 18:6.
a l t h o u g h t h e b r i d e possesses her little b e d , n o t c o n -
tent with this she seeks her Beloved the more
a r d e n t l y . He is h e r little b e d a n d her B e l o v e d : her
little b e d w h e n he s u p p o r t s her in w e a k n e s s and
w e a r i n e s s ; h e r Beloved w h e n h e e n k i n d l e s a n d sets
her ablaze. Little b e d and Beloved is he, b e c a u s e
she t a k e s h e r rest in h i m , b e c a u s e she y e a r n s f o r a n d
sinks i n t o h i m .

7. Are y o u s u r p r i s e d t h a t I call h i m a little b e d ?

62 Gilbert of Hoyland

I will make bold to call him something more com-

monplace or rather more sublime, beyond all the
glory for which he is praised. For the more common-
place the things he did for me, the greater evidence
he gave me of his goodness. He is a little bed for little
ones and a nest for fledglings: 'For the sparrow has
found a house for herself and the turtledove a nest
Ps 83:4. where she may lay her young'.* Do you wish to
learn what kind of nest? Cast your thoughts, feather-
less afc yet and weak, on the Lord and he will nurture
you, until Christ is formed and strengthened in you
and you grow to the perfect man who cannot waver.
Rightly therefore is he a little bed w h o for me by
God was made justice and peace and redemption and
1 Co 1:30. wisdom.* Who will grant me to be snug in such a
little bed? Who, I ask you, will grant me that pillows
and bolsters like his may be fastened beneath my
Ezk 13:18, 20. elbows and head?* Happy the bolsters which the
bride lays beneath her: 'His left arm is under my
Sg2:6. head and his right will embrace me'.* His left arm
she already possesses, his right she promises herself.
She holds his left arm but seeks his right, 'for there
Ps 15:11. are delights at your right hand for ever'.* From her
little bed she stretches as it were to another little bed.
The softest of pillows for me, good Jesus, is that
crown of thorns from your head. A welcome little bed
is that wood of your Cross. 6 On this I. am born and
bred, created and recreated, and upon the altars of
your Passion I gladly rebuild for myself the nest
of memory. If, however, one is allowed to experi-
ence greater and deeper mysteries of your divine
Majesty, that does not differ from the little bed and
the night, if one regards the fullness to come rather
than a small model of human perfection. For what-
ever in us is more perfect, is still imperfect and to
speak more exactly is as yet scarcely a beginning.
Accordingly we are called 'some beginning of God's
Jm 1:18. creation'* and described as having received only 'the
Rm 8:23. firstfruits of the Spirit'.*
8. I may perhaps seem foolhardy in trying to ex-
plain mysteries not experienced, even concerning the
little bed of the bride, for perhaps she built it t o o
 Sermon Two 63

delicately a n d t o o secretly b e y o n d t h e r e a c h of o u r
conjectures.7 T h e r e f o r e let us d e s c e n d f r o m m y s -
teries t o m o r a l s a n d say t h a t t o seek t h e B r i d e g r o o m
'on o n e ' s little b e d ' a n d ' n i g h t a f t e r n i g h t ' means
t h a t a f t e r t h e h e a r t has b e e n in t u r m o i l and t h e flesh
d i s t u r b e d , f o r g e t f u l of rest and of p r e s e n t delights
we t r y t o c a p t u r e s o m e f o r e t a s t e of t h e delights of
f u t u r e s w e e t n e s s . In this passage t h e n , t o s u m u p in
t h r e e w o r d s , y o u have art occasion, an a c t i o n , a n d a
m o t i v e . T h e m o t i v e is in t h e lover, t h e a c t i o n in t h e
seeker, w h i l e o p p o r t u n i t y and occasion are suggested
in t h e little b e d a n d t h e night. T h e passage is b r i e f ,
however, for good is t h e little b e d in w h i c h the
w e a r y m i n d g a t h e r s f i r e - w o o d or r a t h e r a b l a z i n g fire,
wherein love encountering no obstacle more fer-
v e n t l y engages in t h e discipline of desire. But at last
let us t o o rest h e r e a while, a n d m a y it b e o n t h a t
little b e d o n w h i c h t h e b r i d e , while she rested s o u g h t
her Beloved. So w e m a y learn b y o u r o w n actual
experience what we are now attempting to teach
o t h e r s : h o w s w e e t it is t o rest in this l i t t l e b e d and t o
seek t h e Beloved, J e s u s Christ o u r L o r d .
 NOTES TO SERMON TWO

1. Is 5 7 : 8 . G. uses the second person plural u p t o this p o i n t ; in t h e same

person he adds t w o f u r t h e r sentences, the last of par. 3, a n d t h e first of par. 4.
2. The final letter in three lines in this c o l u m n of Migne ( 1 8 A , 18D) have
d r o p p e d o u t ; read ¡lias (delicias) for ilia, corpore for corpor and lectulo
for lectul.
3. For 'recollection' see Lam p. 190, n. 131, w h o sees here a parallel w i t h
the three degrees of c o n t e m p l a t i o n in Gregory the G r e a t , Horn, in Ez.; PL
76:989D.
4. T h e c o m m a should follow solius est sponsi.
5. . . . in similem absorbetur qualitatem, t h r o w s light on; ipsa [anima] . . .
non est nisi ipse [ s p o n s u s ] in S 3 : 4 . G i l s o n , M y s t i c a l Theology, 2 5 1 , n. 292, sees
here an 'identity of likeness', analogous t o the divinization of m a n in Bernard,
Dil, 9 : 2 8 , and in William of St. T h i e r r y , £ p frat 2 : 3 : 1 6 . See also M.-Andre
F r a c h e b o u d , 'Divinisation', DSp 3 : 1 4 0 7 - 8 .
6. ' . . . Cjilbert of H o y l a n d , w h o i n t e r p r e t e d the name G a l a h a d as a
reference t o Christ, e q u a t e d in his second sermon the b e d of S o l o m o n w i t h t h e
Cross of Christ', R. S. Loomis, The Grail (N.Y.: Columbia U. Press, 1 9 6 3 ) 187.
7. Precisely on this paragraph, Gilson rests t h e p r o o f of his s t a t e m e n t :
'Gilbert was not a great mystic, perhaps n o mystic at all . . . and in his c o m -
m e n t a r y h e p r u d e n t l y remains on the level of the 'moral i n t e r p r e t a t i o n ' . But h e
has a strong and well-poised mind, and his writings are well w o r t h reading',
Mystical Theology, 2 3 0 , n. 75. Mikkers, 40, n. 3 , thinks Gilson has b e e n t o o
harsh in his j u d g e m e n t and Miquel c o m e s gently t o G.'s d e f e n c e in an article on
the characteristics of G.'s religious experience, which seem t o indicate a genuine
mystic and a great teacher of mystical theology. Here G.'s Latin is intentionally
ambiguous: Temerarius forsitan videar, qui conor inexperta exponere et de
sponsae lectulo, quae ilium suavius forsan et secretius collocavit, quam conjec-
tura nostra possit attingere. Quapropter de mysteriis ad mores descendamus.
To translate inexperta exponere w i t h Dion as: ' e x p r i m e r ces s e n t i m e n t s que je
n'ai pas eprouves' or w i t h Miquel: 'exposer des experiences que je n'ai pas faites'
is an u n w a r r a n t e d clarification of G.'s intentional ambiguity. Gilbert writes
cautiously, twice adding ' p e r h a p s ' [forsitan . . . forsan] ; his inexperta exponere
need n o t imply his own lack of experience b u t c o u l d reflect the general lack of
such experience or the particular inexperience of his one c o r r e s p o n d e n t ; finally
he is being as discreet as his master, Bernard, w h o w r o t e , in SC 8 5 : ' N o w s o m e o n e
may perhaps ask me w h a t it is like t o enjoy t h e Word. I shall answer h i m : seek
out rather s o m e o n e w h o has had experience and ask him. F o r if it-has b e e n given
t o me, even t o such as me, to have t h a t experience, d o y o u t h i n k t h a t I c o u l d ex-
press the inexpressible?' A f t e r discussing mysteries of t h e spiritual life, de mys-
teriis, for seven paragraphs, G. descends t o s o m e practical observations on t h e
ascetical life, ad mores.

64
 SERMON 3
T H E INITIATIVE

Importunate love initiates the quest through

the city of God. 1. It is grievous to seek and not
find. 2. The bride laments the Bridegroom's
absence. 3. Brooking no delay, she goes search-
ing herself. 4. Though he is everywhere, she
rises not like the prodigal but like Mary going
into the hill country. 5. Open to all is his
mercy, not his delights, but love follows him
everywhere,

I HAVE SOUGHT HIM BUT I HAVE NOT FOUND

HIM. I WILL ARISE AND GO ABOUT THE CITY:
I WILL SEEK HIM THROUGH THE STREETS
AND THE SQUARES* Sg 3:1-2.

T
he Bridegroom is not always wont to
meet the desires of the soul which seeks
hirn, either at the time or in the measure
requested. 'I have sought him' she says,
' b u t ' I have not found him'. 'I have sought him' is a
gracious statement, but 'I have not f o u n d him is griev-
ous. How could it not be grievous and unbearable to
one w h o seeks and loves as she does? No soul is
denied her heart's desire without anxiety, but her dis-
tress is the more acute if, on the crest of hope and on
the very verge of success, she is cheated. How much
more is she distressed w h o is pierced b y hunger for an
interior sweetness once tasted and n o w lost! One may
well believe that in proportion to the a m o u n t of sweet-
ness recalled in retrospect in the heart, with so much
sharper a spur is the lover's spirit goaded towards the
65
66 Gilbert of Hoyland

quest. In brief, the depth o f one's love tells the depth

o f one's grief when one fails in the quest. I f anyone
has ever personally experienced such a feeling o f love
or o f longing, by projecting his own experience he
can appreciate with what a petulant heart the bride
blurted out: 'I have not found him'.
Nowhere is there consolation, nowhere relief, but
everywhere I found tribulation and sorrow, while I
failed to find him whom I love ardently and seek
relentlessly. Y o u have treated me, I do not say as
your foe but as a stranger to you and 'I have b e c o m e
Jb 7:20. a burden to m y s e l f ' . * A burden indeed, since I am
weary o f life and o f the light o f day, because 'even
the very light o f my eyes is not with me'. Where will
consolation exist without, i f in your absence all
is disturbance within me? 'My heart is confounded,
my strength has abandoned me and even the very
Ps 37:11. light o f my eye is not with m e ' . * These three
blessings have vanished with y o u : power, truth, and
identity. For how was power present on a bed o f
grief, or the light o f truth in the night, or the 'self-
same' in division and separation? T o me now applies
Jeremiah's reproach: 'How long will you stray, my
Jr 31:22. wayward daughter'?* Cain, too, after he left the face
Gn 4:16. of the Lord, became a wanderer and a fugitive.* Not
in Cain's way am I a wanderer and a fugitive, for I am
in pursuit rather than in flight and, to be frank,
flight applies rather t o you. Or am I not a wanderer
when I pass from the confines o f my little bed to the
breadth o f the city, running through the squares and
streets, past the watchmen? 'He who clings to the
1 Co 6:17. Lord is one spirit with h i m ' . * Union is sweet and so
separation is bitter.
2. How has this identity been dissolved, this
union sundered, so that I have returned to myself
diminished by half? For I did not wholly depart from
you. Though in yearning I am swept towards you,
I am kept from your presence. Whatever solace I have
in my yearning is wholly hidden and swallowed up by
the ordeal o f waiting. How is it all solace is not
hidden as long as you hide your face from me? As
Hos 13.14-15. Hosea says: 'Consolation is hidden from my e y e s ' * ,
 Sermon Three 67

because division has been caused a m o n g m y be-

loved.' But f r o m m e c o n s o l a t i o n is h i d d e n , b e c a u s e
t o m e this u n i o n had b e e n g r a n t e d . O f c o u r s e y o u
n e e d n o n e of m y g o o d s , * f o r m y g o o d s are y o u r Ps 15:2.
gifts. T h e r e f o r e d e s o l a t i o n o v e r w h e l m s m e as long as
I happen t o b e s e p a r a t e d f r o m y o u . Y o u are m y
c o u r a g e , y o u are t h e light of m y eyes, y o u are m y
very self, y o u are m y all. As t h e p s a l m i s t says: ' m y
flesh a n d m y h e a r t have failed m e ' , * so t h a t n e i t h e r Ps 72:26.
carnal a f f e c t i o n n o r t h e feeling o f m y h e a r t b r e a t h e s
a n y longer in m e ; b u t let G o d b e t h e G o d of m y
h e a r t , a n d let him b e m y p o r t i o n f o r ever. If I lose
this p o r t i o n I shall b e l e f t e m p t y and b a r r e n like
p a r c h e d soil and a b r o k e n jar.
Y o u w h o a r e i n e b r i a t e d lift u p , lift u p o n e w h o
thirsts a n d p o u r a p o r t i o n o f y o u r p l e n t y i n t o m y
e m p t y j a r . * W h y b e so sparing w i t h t h a t t o r r e n t of See T 6:4.
your abundance? Woe is m e ! How swiftly your
t o r r e n t s w e e p s t h r o u g h o u r valleys!* It passes like a Jb 6:15.
flash f l o o d , b u t its s h a r e d delights d r a w m e in their
w a k e i n t o endless longing. Delights d e p a r t b u t t h e y
leave longing b e h i n d . Delights are fugitives b u t long-
ing is a r a c k - m a s t e r . T h e sweeter the draft once
t a s t e d , t h e m o r e t a n t a l i z i n g t h e ordeal of d e l a y . Will
it seem so d e l i g h t f u l t o y o u , O L o r d , t o t o r m e n t a
pitiful soul with such delay and t o laugh at t h e
t o r m e n t s of o n e w h o loves y o u and seeks y o u ? If
m a j e s t y sets y o u a p a r t , let m e r c y m a k e y o u s t o o p
d o w n . If y o u d o n o t yield y o u r s e l f t o y o u r b e l o v e d ' s
a f f e c t i o n , at least t a k e p i t y o n her a f f l i c t i o n . Af-
flicted a m I and exceedingly humbled; from the
anguish of m y h e a r t I m o a n w i t h i n m y s e l f , 'I have
n o t f o u n d h i m ' . * W h e r e n o w is t h e a b u n d a n c e of Ps37:9.
your heart's pity and compassion? Long, and too
long, have t h e y failed t o f l o w over m e . Y o u r b e l o v e d
p o u r s herself o u t in s o r r o w w i t h longing for y o u , an
a b s e n t e e , a n d d o y o u r e f u s e t o p o u r yourself o u t ?
W h e n J o s e p h felt c o m p a s s i o n for his b r o t h e r s w h o
had served h i m so b a d l y , he c o u l d n o t c o n t a i n him-
self; m o v e d t o t h e d e p t h he graciously revealed his
identity.* Indeed the devotion of a bridegroom Gn 45:1-3.
usually m a n i f e s t s a m o r e t e n d e r a f f e c t i o n t h a n t h e
68 Gilbert of Hoyland

devotion of a brother. You are more to me than a

Joseph, for you are my brother and my bridegroom.
Sg8:l. 'Who will restore you to me as my brother'?* I ex-
pend myself wholly in the quest for you, Brother and
Bridegroom, and do you keep me in suspense? Alas,
will you be less in love because you are greater in
majesty? Love and humility have more in common
than love and majesty. For a moment forget your
majesty that you may remember your mercy. All
my longing is for you in your absence. Why is it not
in your presence? Why is my moaning hidden from
you when it is wholly for you? You feign.not t o hear,
you put me off and turn your face from me, so that I
Ps 29:8. am thrown into confusion.* Therefore I complain
and lament and cry out: 'I have not found him.'
3. Happy will be my state when I am allowed to
say: 'My Beloved is mine and I am his'. Really, I do
belong to my Beloved but he is not yet 'turned
Sg 2:16; 7:10. towards me'.* Bitter indeed is change for a lover!
Therefore in turn I change my cry: 'I have not found
him'. 'All things have their hour and all things under
the sun hurry past in their places'. When will it hap-
pen that all things become as fixed as the sun, and
that instead of being as changeable as the moon, they
stop in eternity and do not run by in time? But
now all things have their time and perhaps eternity
itself has its own time, for we speak of eternal periods
of time. The things of eternity then are eternal in
themselves but for us they have been prepared at their
proper time. All things have their proper time; there
is a time for embracing and a time for refraining
Qo 3:1-8. from embraces.* What time then will be more suit-
able for embracing than night? Indeed what place
will be more suitable for embracing than the little
bed, what time more suitable than night? In peace is
your place and likewise your time of repose, and my
little bed of peace I have prepared for you in my
heart. Let my Beloved come, let my delight come
and rest in his bed. Perhaps according to your
appointment book you keep me waiting; b u t im-
patient love draws no comfort from an appointment
book! I know that "comfort is kept in store to be
 Sermon Three 69

given me in due time but love complains of the

snail's pace of fleeting time. You keep me waiting;
for my part I can bear it no longer but 'will arise and
go about the city'.* I scorn my little bed and Sg3:2.
abandon the first half of my cry, that I may be
swept forward to what is more perfect.
4. For although I am a bride and perfect within
the narrow limit of our human condition, I consider
that I have received only a beginning as I anticipate
what is to come: 'I will arise and go about the city,
I will seek him through the streets and the squares'. 2
Good Jesus, why is it that you are not found in
some places, when faith says you are everywhere?
There are indeed many halls in your Father's house,* Jn 14:2.
but do you abandon some when you pass to others,
you who are infinite and unbounded by space? Every-
where in your creation you are present whole and
entire, creating and conserving; but no creature can
express your infinity though every creature can hint
imperfectly at your power. You are present every-
where whole and entire by your existence, but not
equally in each and every creature by your causality.
Although you act everywhere of yourself whole and
entire, you may not activate the fullness of your
power everywhere; indeed you do so nowhere. Yes,
with one and the same excellence you perform the
least actions on the least occasions and greater
actions on great occasions. Therefore although your
excellence acts everywhere whole and entire, it is
nowhere wholly exhausted, for you are able at will
to do greater things; your excellence is not given its
full expression, because images cannot convey reality
in its entirety.
All things then exhibit you to me for my knowl-
edge, but not everything can move me inwardly to
devotion. Everywhere I stumble upon you, but not
everywhere am I touched to the heart! 3 Everywhere
the beauty, value and harmony of the universe
thrusts you upon my attention, but as the Word
which is Wisdom, not as the Word which is Salvation.
The Word which is wisdom and salvation, that is,
Christ Jesus, exists only in the city of our God, upon
70 Gilbert of Hoyland

his holy mountain. Therefore 'I will arise and go

about the city'. 'Awake you who sleep', says Paul,
'arise from the dead and Christ will shine upon
Eph 5:14. you'.* For my part I will arise not from dead works,
not from evil works, but from good to better, from
morals to mysteries, from mysteries to revelations,
from visions to delights. 'I will arise and go about'
that city of which it is said, 'Great is the Lord and
worthy of all praise in the city of our God, upon his
Ps47:2. holy mountain'.* Just so must one arise who wishes
Lk 1:39. to go up into the hill country with Mary,* Even the
prodigal son, coming to his senses, resolves: 'I will
Lk 15:18ff. arise and go to my father'.* Prudently he says 'I will
arise', as he intends to go to the Father who is in
heaven. But the hope he nourished in his breast was
too thin and emaciated, for he intended to ask his
father to be treated as a hired hand. His decision, a
fair estimate of his deserts, was an excessively low
and unjust estimate of the b o u n t y of his father's
mercy. Herein he showed the marks of a spirit really
starved and broken by hunger when he resolved: 'I
will say to him: "Father, treat me as one of your
hired hands".' He could not make his famished and
wasted hope extend to anything greater. 'I will arise',
he says, 'and go to my father'. The lad is moved by
anxiety not to find, but only to influence, his father.
One who is a bride and assured of favor asks only for
the presence of the Beloved. 'I will arise', she says,
'and go about the city and seek him whom my soul
loves', thinking it enough to find him.
5. Consider whether this difference cannot be ob-
served in comparing these texts: that the Father's for-
giveness is available to all, waiting for all, but that his
delights are fleeting and hidden, and haunt secret shel-
ters. 4 Hence the son says 'I will arise and go', but the
bride says: 'I will arise and seek'. Though the Father
runs to meet his repentant son, the Bridegroom with-
draws from his beloved. Mercy pours itself out more
freely, delight more sparingly. Yet the same resolution
proposed by both the son and the bride, 'I will arise', is
not inconsistent. Paul does not allow you to seek the
Col 3:1. things which are above, unless you have first arisen.*
 Sermon Three 71

You cannot have any taste for the things which are
above unless you have first sought them. For what is
it to find those good things which are above but to
relish them fully by some savor of sweetness and ex-
perience? Therefore the bride scans, and scrutinizes
everything that somewhere she may savor what she
loves. 'I will arise,' she says, 'and go about the city,
through the streets and the squares I will seek him
whom my soul loves.' Holy love promotes much per-
sonal initiative. For how much do you think she loved
when she presumed so much? 'I will arise', she says,
'and go about the city'.
No hypocrite, Lord, will come into your sight.
Adam hid himself after he lost the hardihood of a
good conscience* and grieved that he was detected Gn 3:8.
when he ought rather to have been the detective.
A false lover flees from your sight, but a true bride
endowed with the gift of charity pursues you even
when you take flight. Where will you go, good
Jesus, from the face of passionate desire? If you
mount into heaven, her desire is there; if you go
down to the depths, desire is present. Everywhere,
like an anxious sleuth, 5 she follows you ranging
throughout all your creation step by step. What she
possesses by faith she tries to transform into affec-
tion and to match by her devotion your amazing
Majesty. She applies all the Gospel records to the
kindling of her love, that where she gathers your
truth, there she may experience your power, your
very self, her Bridegroom, Christ Jesus, you who
live and reign for ever and ever. Amen. 6
 NOTES TO SERMON THREE

1. G: quia facta est inter dilectos divisio; Vulg.: Quia ipse inter fratres
divide t.
2. G. begins here his r e m a r k a b l e d e v e l o p m e n t of circuitus, the soul's
spiritual pilgrimage.
3. ' . . . non ubique compungor. I d o n o t everywhere feel c o m p u n c t i o n ; '
See Lam. p. 193, nn. 151-155, and index u n d e r ' c o m p u n c t i o n ' .
4. T h e sentence begins with vide, s e c o n d person singular, the only clue
given of his audience.
5. curiosa scrutatrix: see Lam p. 184, nn. 9 0 , 92.
6. Lam p. 180, n. 6 4 .

72
 SERMON 4
ROAMING THE CITY O F GOD

Love tracks the Beloved through his planned

city. 1. She roams in familiar spiritual haunts.
2. For the progress of the believing soul,
reason mediates between faith and understand-
ing. 3. The lover learns of God's creation,
conservation, providence and concurrence;
4-6. the lover learns with the wise and praises
with the saints the action of God in salvation
history; 7. finds here threefold matter for con-
templation and the difference between sur-
rounding (circuitus) and embracing (com-
plexus). 8. The wheel of desire stops only with
the Beloved. 9. What becomes of the search
(circuitus) in the company of the angels in
heaven?

I WILL ARISE AND GO ABOUT THE CITY,

THROUGH THE STREETS AND THE SQUARES
I WILL SEEK HIM WHOM MY SOUL LOVES*1 Sg3:2.

T
his circuit of the city is not the tour of
a gadabout but the quest of a lover. If
the bride wanders in making this circuit,
still she does not stray, she does not
leave the boundaries of the city nor the haunts
where her Beloved is wont to walk. In making her
rounds she walks, walks interiorly through the
streets and squares of the city. 'In these streets
Wisdom manifests himself with merriment' and 'in
the squares he breaks into song'.* So she frequents Ws6:17.
73
74 Gilbert of Hoyland

these thoroughfares, because she knows where she

encounters her Beloved more frequently. 'In my
quest', she says, 'I will go about the streets and
squares'. Many a time, O happy soul, you make your
rounds? the approach is familiar and every detail of
the city is known to you: its highways and byways,
back lanes and broad squares. 'The king led you into
Sg 2:4. his wine cellar'.* Did he not also lead you into all
other more secret hiding-places? To you everything is
unlocked and accessible, 2 and from practice you feel
ready for this happy journey. Not with reluctance
then, but with confidence, she says: 'I will go about
the city'.
How much do you suppose it consoles her,
brothers, to retrace all the while and repeatedly
tread in the footprints where the feet of her Beloved
used to stand? The places where we have experienced
some blessing somehow imprint that blessing more
vividly on our memory, paint it in detail before our
mind's eye, and what we once experienced there we
expect a second time. Those places, in my view,
are not physical but spiritual haunts conducive to the
spiritual exercise of the soul. Let us assume then that
her roaming occurs in spiritual haunts. 3
2. This progress is one either of recall or of in-
quiry. For in a way one progresses who either re-
collects what he knows or from what he knows
deduces something hitherto unknown. He somehow
progresses who recalls what he knows or detects
something new. It is progress of a kind, when what
we already hold by faith and understanding we
review systematically. It is progress of a kind, when
from truths we already hold we advance and enter
into deeper mysteries. The former is progress of
delight, the latter of reason. The former is more
loving, the latter more subtle. Though the former
seems more appropriate to the bride, still we shall
deprive her of neither. For whether she retraces what
is already known through discovery or probes into
the unknown, in all her inquiries she does but seek
fresh kindling for the fire of love.
Good is the progress of reason, provided reason
 Sermon Four 75

confines itself within the rules of faith and does not

stray b e y o n d the bounds of faith, as it ranges 'from
faith to faith' or f r o m faith to understanding. Even
understanding, should it outstrip faith, gazes on
nothing other than what is grasped by faith. In under-
standing there is not greater certainty than in faith
but greater clarity. Neither admits error or uncertainty.
Where error or uncertainty exists, understanding does
not exist; where uncertainty exists, there is no faith.
But if faith seems capable of admitting error, it is not
the true or the catholic faith b u t a mistaken credulity.
If I may speak in metaphor, faith embraces and clings
to unbending t r u t h ; understanding gazes upon truth
unveiled and naked; reason attempts to remove the
veils. Reason, mediating between faith and under-
standing, stands erect by faith but stretches upwards
on tiptoe to understanding.
Reason desires something more than to believe.
What more? T o behold. It is one thing to believe and
another to behold; yet reason does not strive to
behold anything other than what it conceives by
faith. And if reason be not yet able -to see clearly,
still by some suitable speculations reason attempts to
construct logically what it has already accepted on
the firm foundation of faith. Reason makes an effort
b e y o n d faith b u t by faith is supported and by faith
restrained; in the first instance the mind is devout, in
the second prudent, in the third sober, for if you will
pardon the rhyme, faith enfolds, reason upholds,
understanding beholds. Good is this journey, wherein
the mind advances step by step under the guidance of
reason without straying from the faith, because
guided by faith and harnessed to faith. But the mind
obviously strays if it does not submit everything to
the scrutiny of faith and rein in the quick gallop of
reason to the steady gait of faith.
Good is the j o u r n e y when by proceeding from Rm 1:17. On par,
faith to faith the justice of God is revealed.* Good is CJ^-H^'TCF
the journey when one is transformed from splendor 37:144-145,
to splendor as if b y the Spirit of the Lord.* Good is 2 Co 3:18.
the journey when forgetting what lies behind, one
presses on t o what lies ahead in the hope of somehow
76 Gilbert of Hoyland

Ph 3:12-13. reaching one's goal.* Good assuredly is the journey

not onl
V^iM-T-CF37* y whenever new and more hidden truths are
141-142. grasped but also when truths already grasped are
unfolded with an affection ever new and ever fresh,
not only when one covers new ground b u t also when
frequently one retraces ground already covered.
Delightful then is the journey, one not unknown to
the bride for she says confidently: 'I will rise and go
about the city'.
3. What city can be suggested more appropriate
than the city in this text: 'Glorious things have been
Ps 86:3. told of you, O city of God'?* 4 The created universe,
of course, can aptly be called the city of God, for by
him was it founded and by him was it set in array.
Glorious obviously is this city b o t h in its beauty and
in its harmony. Less glorious it may seem 5 in the
disorderly conduct which derives from the freedom
of wicked minds, as far as their conduct is concerned;
nor is it any thanks to their conduct that they do
not elude the plan of God's providence, though his
plan be far from their intention. They alone are
really glorious, however, who eagerly follow the
divine pattern, keen to preserve intact the grace of
their original state or to mend it if ever it is rent.
These latter are made glorious in t w o ways: by a
natural state shared with others and by a voluntary
conformity not shared by others, to the will of God
who orders and directs all things.
The created universe then is called the city of
God, since it i i governed b y the laws of his economy.
He bestows on each and every creature the fair form
of existence in its own genus, its effectiveness in
practice, its rightful place in due order, that each
may be beautiful in itself, not superfluous as part of
the whole, and neither out of joint nor at odds in
relation to others. For whether a creature is moved
by the impulse of nature of by the free thrust of its
own choice or by the prompting of divine grace, or
whether by each of these causes separately or by all
of them together, every creature receives its form
and its impulse from the divine efficiency invisibly
acting within, yes, its form and, as it were, the law
 Sermon Four 11

of its order and the impulse of its action. For not

only the innate faculty of any action but also
the action of any faculty is granted by God, so that
both alike, the power to act and the activation of the
power, come from God. Yet an action which pro-
ceeds from an evil intention depends on him for the
act's existence but not for its own evil. God is not
responsible for the fact that the action is directed to
a disorderly end, but God is responsible for the fact
that disorder itself is restored to order by a really
amazing design.
4. Consider how the selling of Joseph, the descent
into Egypt, the exodus and Pharoah's pursuit, the
drowning of his army and the deliverance of Israel
illustrate the mysteries of Christ's incarnation and
passion and of our deliverance. In many places with
application 6 you will find similar parallels. The
delinquencies of old then could only serve to illustrate
new mysteries, if divine Providence were working
through them in a hidden plan. For those events of
old did not so happen by chance and so much with-
out purpose that subsequently more recent mys-
teries were made to accord with them by a skilled
planner, a careful observer; but rather the former
were devised not by any human design but by God's
disposition, to bring out the meaning of the latter;
the latter were not made to harmonize with the
former. Why was the Lord delivered up to his passion
particularly at that time? Why was he subjected to
that kind of death at that hour and on that day?
Who would either say these events have no symbolic
meaning or suppose them fortuitous? On the very
day of the week that man was created, he was
redeemed; at the very hour he was sentenced, he was
granted pardon. By a tree death made its entrance
and by a tree life was restored.
Yet somebody actually claims that these parallels
are not the result of divine economy but of human
management. As evidence, Sir, you have the season
of the paschal lamb and you have the spotless victim;
you have the hour of the Israelites' deliverance from
Egypt and you have the grace of your deliverance
78 Gilbert of Hoyland

from the errors and vanity of the world and from

your corrupt nature; yet do you believe that this
simply happened, [it happened] not by God's dispen-
sation but by the intervention of a Jew quite unaware
of the import of his actions? This close concurrence
of evidence concerning the tree of the cross, the time,
the hour, the day and the other circumstances which
can be carefully recorded, do you, I ask, ascribe to
the folly of the Jews and not to the wisdom of God?
By that remedy of the cross, which thoroughly heals
that folly and converges in one pattern of evidence
with the mysteries of old, mere chance and human
intuition are excluded as explanations but not a
divine design. In the prophecy of Isaiah also you will
find this said to Hezekiah: 'All thèse things have
Is 39:6. been given into the hands of the Chaldaeans'.* By the
word 'given', the text shows that they were not only
prophetically foretold but also directed as if by a
court of justice.
In the light of these and similar passages, here and
there throughout Scripture, who will harbor any
doubt that divine power and wisdom alike, by their
just laws, do not indeed inspire but rather counter-
balance the depraved wills of rational creatures? If
that is so, much less can anyone doubt that the
actions of other living creatures, which are led by
natural instinct and determined only by the judge-
ment of their senses or imagination, not by the free
choice of reason, are in no way exempt from the
divine disposition. To sum up, the essence of all
things which places them in this or that class of being,
their existence which gives them being and their
usefulness which makes them efficient causes, are
moved and changed and restrained by the eternal and
unchangeable ordinances and decrees of a most just,
most powerful, most wise governor, who rules the
whole of creation with an undeviating justice, like the
most orderly and the best planned of cities.
5. Is the city through which the bride proposes
to journey this whole created universe? The wise
men of this world visited the natural phenomena of
the universe and discerned the wisdom of God at
 Sermon Four 79

work in his masterpiece. At work, I say, b u t not that

work of which we r e a d : 'God, our king f r o m of old,
has completed his saving work in the midst of the
earth'.* They recognized the craftsman in this work Ps 73:12.
but gave him neither glory nor thanks. 7
The believing soul records and reviews all things
to the praise of God and calls on every creature t o
glorify him, in order t o arouse herself to gratitude
and be spurred t o love God b y contemplation of
the universe. Solomon visited and discussed all things,
f r o m the cedar of Lebanon to the hyssop.* In IK 4:23.
Ecclesiastes, he visited the elements and, a f t e r treat-
ing of their revolution, turned his consideration to
human actions, thus passing f r o m the fleeting vanity
of things t o the t r u t h which endures. J o b visited, or
rather was conducted b y the Lord around, the
foundations of the earth, through its measure, plumb-
line and supports, its cornerstones, the stars of
morning and the jubilation of God's sons: through
the gates of the sea, its w o m b , the cloud in which it
was wrapped as in the swaddlingclothes of infancy;
through boundaries, bars and gates, through the
rising of early morn, the place of dawn and through
other fixed p h e n o m e n a of the created universe.* Jb 38:4-12.
It t o o k time to enumerate all his creatures, but all
are calculated to produce admiration of their Creator
in one who gazes on the universe soberly and love in
one who reflects u p o n it devoutly. This universe is
exhibited without exception to all endowed with
reason and it proclaims the majesty of its Creator by
the fair f o r m of its beauty. Yet more beautiful still,
beneath their fair covering, are the hidden mys-
teries of our salvation and the manifold gifts of
spiritual graces.
6. Again at the end of the Book of Psalms, after
summoning every creature to praise God. David also
adds: 'Sing to the Lord a new song, let his praise
resound in the assembly of the saints'.* Truly a new Ps 149:1,
Lam n
song, for its t h e m e never grows old and its pleasure • ^•
never cloys. Love makes it ever fresh, repetition
fresher still. This song is truly new for it renews the
spirits of mankind for eternal beatitude. Again we
80 Gilbert of Hoyland

read: 'Do not remember former things, look not upon

Is 43:18-19. the things of old;for I also make things new'.* Rightly
are they new, in no way included in the laws of
nature current from days of old. 'Let his praise
resound in the assembly of the saints', yes, by virtue
of their excellence, not so much by a dispensation of
justice but by the free gift and blessing of holiness.
'Let his praise resound in the assembly of the
saints', because the action of the saints so manifests
his praise that their affection ministers to his praise.
For saints surpass others in welcoming the gifts of
grace, in deep feelings of devotion and in rendering
due thanks. Therefore by a special prerogative God is
praised in the assembly of the saints, while outside
the assembly God is praised by the unintelligent and
mute service of creatures and by the hollow service of
mankind. In unintelligent things praise is limited by
their nature; in men not born to new life, praise is
limited t o their knowledge. But in neither does love
exist. In the former, love of their Creator is non-
existent, in the latter love is unsanctified. 'Let his
praise resound in the assembly of the saints.' For
how the order of nature exists in accord with its
essence, how the order of grace exists without dis-
harmony or disorder, how the pursuit of destiny
leads to happiness, this whole universe the saint
researches and weighs in proportion to his gifts, that
thereby he may gain some adequate notion of the
powers of his Maker, set out to imitate him, and
be swept towards love for him.
7. This then is the spiritual city, this is the as-
sembly of the saints, through which the bride makes
bold to say she will journey. O God of goodness,
what valuable reflections are here in abundance! For
who can adequately appreciate how fair and how
numerous are the splendors which exist everywhere
in mysteries, in models, in miracles? Mysteries refer
to salvation, models refer to conduct, miracles refer
t o witness. But what happens when the mind rises
from mystery and f r o m morality to marvel at the
eternal reward for temporal merits? What waves of
joy meet the outpouring of our longing! 'Children of
 Sermon Four 81

men, how long are you to love what is empty and

seek what is false'?* Why turn your spirit to strange Ps 4:3. See Lam
i83 84,
allurements, why seek in labor for elusive delights? '
The source of joy you have at hand in the mysteries
of our faith, stored in the memory, fruitful for medi-
tation, unfailing for your nourishment, abundant for
your satisfaction.
Children of men or rather children of the Most
High, sons of a religious order whose footsteps wear
away the threshold of regular discipline, 8 why
thirst with parched lips for muddied waters and
disdain the waters of heaven? Why admit into your
mind thoughts to which you do not commit your
hand? Why handle assiduously in your mind what
you utterly disdain to touch? You know from fre-
quent experience that the recall of all this empty
parade of remembered wantonness is wont to end
abruptly in remorse. As J o b suggests, this is shame-
ful to reveal and painful to conceal.* Change then Jb 6:20. See Lam
the subject of your meditations but safeguard your
earnestness. How disgraceful it is that your enthu-
siasm should be diminished when its object is
cha nged for the better!
But I do say this: as you once exposed your
spirit to the alluring considerations of defiling wan-
tonness, so now expose your spirit to the fruitful
quest for the beauty of truth. 'Surround Sion' says
the psalmist 'and embrace her'.* Surround her in Ps 47:13, see Lam
meditation, embrace her in love. Embrace her that
your grasp of her may be complete and your
caress intimate. More seems to be implied by 'em-
brace' than by 'surround'; 'embrace' takes in the
whole all at once, 'surround' passes on successively
from part to part. Yet 'surround' seems superior in
this respect: that we make no distinctions and
notice no difference when we 'embrace'; whereas
when we 'surround' we examine each part separately.
'To embrace' is to be content with the whole; 'to
surround' is to take each part individually.
8. The spirit which hungers and thirsts, finding
itself unsatisfied by a few blessings, is always borne
on towards the remainder. The spirit is whirled in a
82 Gilbert of Hoyland

kind of circle, stretched on the wheel of its spinning

desires, until hunger for love is sated with blessings
and manages to stop its flight in a love wherein no
limit is found. Since all things created are finite by
their very nature, the mind in its quest passes by all
of them, unable to rest wherever it discovers the
finite. He alone is rest for the lover and refreshment,
who is the end of all things and who exists without
end. Accordingly, the bride in her quest passes by
all other things to arrive at him: 'I will arise', she
says, 'and go about the city'. I will go about seeking
in all things him whom I love but finding him
nowhere. 'His invisible attributes are visible to the
Rm 1:20. eye of reason in the things he has made.'*
Yet no creature, however excellent it may be and
however closely it may imitate him, fully instructs
me by its evidence or inflames me by its service. For
the service of his .creatures in portraying their Crea-
tor is found to be as dull, slow and ineffectual as
statues are known t o be inferior t o the original.
Therefore 'I will go about the city', approaching
everything, passing everything by: approaching them
as far as each in its own way portrays his likeness;
passing them by when they fall short of perfection.
'I will go about the city', everywhere tasting refresh-
ment only to experience distaste. For how am I not
refreshed by what bears some pledge, shows sqme
sign, recalls some memory, suggests some knowledge
of my love? But again how do J not suffer dis-
appointment, as I reflect that I am being cozened
with an image, delayed by a shadow and that I do
not possess the naked and simple reality? 'I will go
about the city', because in its wide expanse, so fair,
I am everywhere encouraged but nowhere renewed.
9. Making my rounds will not weary me until a
fuller approach is opened to me, that I may enter
into the sanctuary of God and gain understanding of
his ultimate mysteries. Then our journey comes t o an
end, when we shall be replenished with the blessings
of your house, O Lord, when in your ultimate
mysteries I shall understand you who are first and
Rv 21:6. last, the" beginning and the end.* O what a journey
 Sermon Four 83

will be there, hastening from yourself to yourself,

ever going and returning: going by desire, returning
in delight, while your presence ever satisfies what
our experience desires, so that the mind which holds
and beholds you is at once intent upon you by
attraction and content with you b y satisfaction.
So those 'winged spirits covered with eyes', are
said to be 'in th? centre and around God's throne'.* Rv 4:26.
'In the centre', because they are led into the inmost
circle of their desires; 'on the circumference' because
they are drawn into the same circle by an ever
quickening desire. 'In the centre' because their desire
is already fulfilled; 'on the circumference' because
they are unable to comprehend its totality. They have
been welcomed 'into the center' by grace; they
have been kept 'on the circumference' by their
distinct nature. They are 'in the centre' because they
are united by contemplation and they are 'on the
circumference' because they are distinguished by
comparison. For what is your throne but that un-
approachable light of which the apostle speaks, in
which God dwells?* However, no matter how many 1 Tm 6:16.
eyes those blessed spirits may have, your light both
illumines them that they may see to the limit of
their vision, and yet your light surpasses them lest
their vision encompass you entirely.
Oh what broad vistas have the lookouts there!
What sweeping horizons have the plazas in that
infinity of light! How well linked and articulated,
how extensive are the streets in that simplicity, that
charity and that eternity! 'Those byways are byways
of beauty and those paths are paths of peace'.* No Ws 3:17.
one loses his way or struggles in vain on those paths.
There from every direction the Bridegroom ap-
proaches, presents himself, as it were, with glad
countenance and melts into the heart of his beloved,
that for the future he need not be sought, Jesus
Christ, who lives and reigns for ever and ever.
Amen. 9
 NOTES TO SERMON FOUR

1. T h e singular vide, par. 4, suggests a treatise a d a p t e d t o his audience of

fratres, par. 1, a n d alumni religionis, par. 7. F o r this spiritual pilgrimage of the
soul within t h e cloister, G. avoids t h e wealth of scriptural a n d historical allusions
in the ambiguous w o r d s 'pilgrim' and 'pilgrimage' in favor of his t e x t a n d t h e
scriptural riches of t h e equally a m b i g u o u s circuitus a n d circuibo. See J e a n
Leclercq, 'Aux sources de la spiritualité occidentale' (Paris: Cerf, 1964) 3 5 - 9 0 ,
especially 78-85; 'Le pelerinage intérieur'; and his 'Vocabulaire Monastique',
SAn 4 8 ( 1 9 6 1 ) 164, peregrinatio. See also L. Braceland, 'Spiritual Pilgrimage', in
Cistercian Studies, 12 ( 1 9 7 7 ) .
2. Reading pervia with Migne, rather t h a n brevia with Mab.
3. Lam, 1 7 7 , n. 4 3 ; 184, n. 88.
4. F o u r key w o r d s in par. 3, appear in Augustine: motus f r e q u e n t l y in t h e
Confessions; modus, species, ordo occur together in De Civitate Dei ; CCSL Pars
XIV, 1 ( T u r n h o l t : Brepols, 1955) V : l l p. 142, lines 1 0 - 1 1 ; o n these three
w o r d s , see Gilson, The Christian Philosophy of St. Augustine, tr. L y n c h ( L o n d o n ;
Gollancz, 1961) 180-182.
5. Reading minus r a t h e r t h a n nimis.
6. Mab. omits diligens-, see Dt 1 7 : 4 ; Lam 1 8 0 n. 6 2 .
7. R m 1 : 2 1 ; perhaps an allusion to Lucretius, D e Rerum Natura.
8. See Lam 1 7 0 , nn. 3, 4 ; for t h e b e n e d i c t i n e expression h e r e , see also G.
S 3 5 : 7 ; G. speaks of t h e r o u n d of regular observance in S 2 3 : 3 , alludes here a n d
there t o particular observances, and presents the m o n a s t i c day f r o m vigils t o
nightfall in S 2 3 : 3 . See also S 4 3 : 8 .
9. On par. 8-9, de L u b a c impishly r e m a r k s in Exegese 1 : 5 9 5 , n. 9,
'Ce jour-la au moins, Gilbert avait herite de l'inspiration de B e r n a r d ' .

84
 SERMON 5,
SEEK WITH WISDOM AND AFFECTION

Love seeks everywhere with wise freedom and

pure affection. 1. The word of the Beloved is a
delightful banquet. 2-3. Christ cannot be found
in Jewish interpretations and pagan teaching;
4-5, he can be found in the way of the
commandments and of the counsels; 6. he is
found in the active and contemplative life,
especially among Cistercians; 7. he is found in
desolation and consolation. 8. But note the
distinction between worldly and godly wis-
dom;9. the former frequents lawcourts. 10. The
name of Jesus is found on men's lips but rarely
in their hearts.

T H R O U G H THE STREETS AND SQUARES I WILL Sg3:2;

SEEK HIM WHOM MY S O U L L O V E S . * G. addresses one
person
throughout.

Y
esterday's sermon travelled a long way in
following the bride's progress. Thanks
be to you, Lord Jesus Christ, for making
your sayings so sweet to my palate, 1
surpassing honey in my mouth. So one mouthful,
once tasted, scarcely leaves the tongue to be replaced
by another. Slowly each morsel is masticated, or if it
is swallowed whole, with a kind of gentle eructation
it returns for rumination. 2 All this could have been
said trippingly on the tongue but the flavor of the
subject matter titillates a gourmet's palate, creates an
appetite for itself, and does not readily vanish once
placed on the table for discussion. Similarly when a
85
86 Gilbert of Hoyland

nurse has broken off a crust and has with some

vigorous chewing thoroughly masticated it for an
infant's nourishment, sometimes she keeps it on her
tongue, relishing the flavor of its taste. So breaking up
the solid food of this Canticle for others if need be,
we too cannot squander the sweetness once tasted
but we so minister to another's needs as partially to
satisfy our own wants.
Just when I think the sermon ended and brought
to a satisfactory conclusion, the banquet of the word
with an aroma not to be denied makes my mouth
water and as memory reopens a cupboard full of
delicacies another tray is served for discussion. But
why not? Why not shake most frequently that fig
tree whose fruit is never fully shaken off? Why be
surprised if that tree is more often stripped
which is made more fruitful by plucking its
fruit, when it seems to vie with the hand
of the picker and to surpass his greed by
its own fruitfulness? Not such as the fig
tree the Lord Jesus cursed, for finding no
fruit on it he made what was fruitless ever-
Mk 11:13-14.
lastingly barren.*
See Virgil,
Aeneid, 6:136-44,
2. See how the faith of Christ made barren the
201-11, the traditions of the Jews and the tenets of the philo-
golden bough.
sophers. See how faith dried up the rivers of Egypt!
One cannot find in their doctrines and interpreta-
tions the fruit of which one reads in the psalm: 'Our
Ps 83:13; see soil will yield its fruit'.* Christ cannot be found in
de Lubac, Exegese their streets and squares. Already he has escaped
2:144.
from your bonds, O Jews, already he left his house,
Jr 12:7. abandoned his heritage.* According to Isaiah, you
have become 'like a shanty in a melon-patch, like a
Is 1:8. city laid waste'.* Even of your squares he nonethe-
Is 59:14. less adds 'truth stumbles in the squares'.* Concerning
the philosophers of the Gentiles, Paul says they
Rm 1:18, 25. imprisoned the truth in falsehood.* Does it not seem
appropriate to you to take the streets to mean
Israel according to the flesh, since they came of the
one stock of Abraham and were fitted and com-
pressed into one narrow rite, bound by one law? But
the wise men of the Gentiles are rightly symbolized
 Sermon Five 87

by the squares, because in their unbridled liberty and

licence they strayed from the path of truth, and
concerning the majesty of God expressed opinions
no less discordant with his dignity than repugnant to
his truth. The Jews, through lack of understanding,
concentrating on the uniqueness of the divine na-
ture, were unable to extend the growth of their faith
to include the persons of the Son and the Holy
Spirit. The philosophers of the Gentiles, wandering
over the plain and restrained by no frontier of divine
teaching, adopted gods many in nature and number-
less in person; each held views at variance with his
fellows and all together held opinions empty and
vain.
3. But what soul now seeks the Bridegroom in
their streets or squares? If any there be, she is a con-
cubine or an adulteress. The concubine shares only a
temporary roof with a bridegroom; the adulteress, a
roof she betrays. Why should anyone knock there,
where dwells not chaste wisdom but that of an alien
or a harlot? Such a creature is sketched for you in
the book of Proverbs: 'coming to meet a silly youth
when he crosses the square near the corner at twilight
and dead of night, a woman in harlot's guise, decked
out to hunt souls, garrulous and homeless; now on
the highway, now in the square, now at some corner
she waits in ambush'.* I am wary of such a square, in Pr 7:7.
which a woman so sly and shifty devises the ambush
of her charms for a silly youth. For something dark,
distorted and counterfeit is conveyed to me by the
night, the corner and the harlot's disguise.
I suspect, or at least disdain, any doctrine which
makes no mention of Christ, which neither renews
me by his sacraments nor teaches me by his precepts
nor enkindles me with his promises. Now the Jews do
indeed have him in their scrolls but not in their inter-
pretation. For a veil still exists over their minds
rather than over their law. Nor can the veil be re-
moved except when they turn to the Lord. Both in
their beliefs about God and in their morals for men,
I hold suspect the licence of the one, the narrowness
of the other and the stubbornness of both. I little like
88 Gilbert of Hoyland

the multiplicity which the one posits in the divine

nature, the singularity which the other asserts and the
blindness of both. So I would not attribute to the
bride any search for her Beloved in their streets and
squares. Let us assign other streets, other squares to
her whom Christ has betrothed to himself in faith
and in truth.
4. Of course there are two ways of life among
the faithful. Some follow the broad way, others
pledge themselves t o a very strict discipline. For
although it is written: 'Narrow is the way which
Mt 7:14; Lam 11, leads to life,* in the same genus are two species, and
nn. 38, 39. - n c o m p a r ; s o n w i t h the narrower way another is
regarded as broader. Or do you not recognize the
breadth of the commandment where no one is
obliged t o perfection, but the opportunity to remain
in a lower degree is conceded not only to weakness of
health but also t o weakness of will? Thanks be to
you, Lord Jesus Christ, because you offer us oppor-
tunities for salvation and because you propose the
counsels to the vigorous and energetic in such a way
that you also provide a remedy for the sick and dis-
pense a stimulant for the slothful. 3 Your holy city
Jerusalem has not only streets for those who live
austerely but also squares for those who love the
more lowly and level plains. In every way of life and
in every order, she who is the bride seeks traces of
the one she chastely loves so that from each of them
she may draw a model for her action and fuel for her
love. She does not disdain to borrow emblems of ex-
cellence even from outsiders who are bound by no
rule of stricter discipline. She considers affection
often more fervent where the order is on a lower
level.
5. What shall we say of those who nowhere seek
opportunities for salvation, b u t are everywhere cen-
sorious of slackness in the squares and of indiscre-
tion in the streets? In this group are the many who
scrutinize all ways of life and all orders. There they
discover nothing of attraction but plenty for detrac-
tion, falsely maintaining that in some strictness is
excessive, while in others it is nonexistent. Their
 Sermon Five 89

slogan is as pitiable as it is t r u e : 'I have not f o u n d

h i m ' . * Certainly y o u r i n t e r p r e t a t i o n is distorted Sg3:l.
w h e n y o u say: ' L o o k , Christ is here! No l o o k , he is
t h e r e ! ' But y o u r i n t e r p r e t a t i o n is perverse, should
you say: 'No, he is neither here nor t h e r e ! ' T h e bride
seeks him in b o t h places, b o t h here and there. 'I will
seek t h r o u g h t h e streets and t h e squares him w h o m
my soul loves'. T a k e the streets t o m e a n strictness,
the squares dispensation. D o n o t give a pejorative
i n t e r p r e t a t i o n to either concerning servants of the
C h u r c h . T h e C h u r c h accepts b o t h ; in b o t h the bride
seeks Christ. D o n o t seek Christ in one only. Seek
Christ in b o t h .
J o i n squares t o streets in yourself. D o you ask
how? If y o u are limited b y affliction, either volun-
tarily u n d e r t a k e n or imposed against y o u r will, let
spiritual j o y enlarge y o u r heart within y o u and already
y o u have j o i n e d squares with streets. Do you n o t
think t h a t he possesses b o t h , w h o rejoices because in
distress his heart was opened t o j o y ? * T h e apostle Ps4:2.
wished some b r e a d t h in the c o n f i n e m e n t of trials for
those t o w h o m he r e c o m m e n d e d : 'rejoicing in h o p e
and patience in distress'.* F o r b r e a d t h refers to h o p e : Rm 12:12.
'having such promises, dearly beloved', he says,
'open wide y o u r hearts'.* Our present circumstances 2 Co 6:13,
are straitened, b u t o u r h o p e expands. Our possessions
are limited, our expectations more a b u n d a n t . There-
fore refer these squares to the b r e a d t h of our h o p e .
'Rejoicing in h o p e ' t h e apostle says. But the p r o p h e t
says: ' Y o u r squares shall yet be filled' with choruses
at play.* D o y o u see h o w the apostle and the pro- Zc8:5.
phet agree in w h a t t h e y say a b o u t h o p e and squares?
For t o these, b o t h a t t r i b u t e j o y .
6. At the same time this f u r t h e r d i f f e r e n c e
should be n o t i c e d : that in streets people dwell for the
amenities of family life, while in squares t h e y gather
t o enjoy a holiday. 4 F o r in the squares are b o t h the
t h r o n g and t h e chorus of those at play and so the
celebration of a h a p p y holiday takes place in the
squares. G o o d are those squares in which t h e spirit,
inspired with spry enough agility, exercises itself for
nimble leaps of c o n t e m p l a t i o n . Thus in t h e squares
90 Gilbert of Hoyland

the bride seeks her Beloved; released from house-

hold chores and disengaged from the dwelling of her
body and abandoning as far as possible her earthly
home, she devotes herself to contemplation with a
joy proportionate to her freedom. Though the time
for dwelling in the streets is longer, time in the
squares is brief indeed but sweeter. In the streets is
the practice and exercise of virtues necessary for us
as long as we linger in the house of this body, whereas
in the squares is some joyous rehearsal of future
beatitude.
Consider now the sequence of the words. The
bride puts first the streets and then the squares. 5 You
have a parallel in the psalm: 'How lovely are your
tabernacles, O Lord of hosts. My soul yearns and
Ps 83:2-3. pines for the courts of the Lord',* Are you sur-
prised at the preciseness of the bride? Follow her
order. Do not assume that you are more prudent or
more prompt than the bride. First exercisi yourself
in the work of the virtues, that subsequently you may
climb to a lookout upon the truth. Why try to make
an entrance by way of the exit? With the bride ad-
vance through the streets to the squares and with the
psalmist advance, after the tabernacles of the virtues,
to the spacious courts of the truth. Contrariwise, to
reverse the order is perverse.
The narrower the streets, the richer and more free
is the interior leisure of the mind. Why do I say lei-
sure? I would do better to say devotion. A discipline
outwardly strict inwardly expands the soul. Whether
you interpret the squares as freedom or as joyfulness,
where will you find more spacious squares than in
this Order of ours? You will not find it easy to say
where the streets are narrower and the freedom
greater for practice and exercise in virtue than in this
Lam 13, n. 46; Order and in this holy community.* There is greater
freedom for eood rprecisely because there is less
195, n. 162. ° ' , .
licence for evil. The greater the strictness, the
straighter the way. Narrower streets make wider
squares. So what does it mean—to seek Jesus through
streets and squares—but t o restrict and t o expand
oneself in this way to capture happiness in his light?
 Sermon Five 91

7. Do you wish me to apply both squares and

streets interiorly to the mind? Do you not agree that
he is located in a sort of street, as if in an alley, whose
patience is tried, whose chastity is strained and
whose charity is straitened? One who does not culti-
vate any virtue freely and without labor, without
toil and anxious striving of spirit, does he not resem-
ble a beggar in the streets? And although such men
beg, not without toil, not without effort, yet even
they seek repose in him whom their soul loves, as if
they sought him through the streets. Of them the
prophet says: 'Lord, in straits they sought you', and
'in the path of your judgements, Lord, we awaited
you'.* Is 26:16, 8.
This happens quite often to the untrained and to
novices. They are wont to be tried with various
temptations or with a kind of tedium, 6 when home-
sickness constrains them or the attraction of the
virtue fails to cheer them. Blessed is one who is not
scandalized by these difficulties, who is not cast
down, who does not lose Jesus, but rather seeks him
through such streets, seeks him in straits, unlike
those of whom it is said: 'In straits they sought you;
in affliction which made them complain, your teach-
ing came to them'.* Rather such a one recognizes in Is 26:16.
those straits both occasions for virtue and the teach-
ing of the Father; so he presses on 'courageously
from beginning to end',* until he emerges from the Lm4:18.
streets into the squares.
Even those who are more perfect and are accus-
tomed to the squares are sometimes permitted to slip
back suddenly into the straits of the streets. Who
indeed is more perfect than she who is called his
bride? See, she too seeks her Beloved thorugh the
streets and some narrow alleys. This difficulty in
seeking is not without a purpose, for by it her
humility is tested and her desire aroused. How often
have I felt myself astray, as it were in a labyrinth of
streets, shut up in straits of the spirit, when suddenly
I emerged into neighboring squares and the good
Lord led me into the open. In the streets I almost
gave up the ghost, but in the squares I suddenly
92 Gilbert of Hoyland

regained my spirit. In these squares some breadth

and freedom of a mind disengaged and unencum-
bered is recommended to you.
8. Take care however not to turn this freedom
into a pretext for the flesh. Take care not to pile
mud in your square, the mud of unlawful thoughts.
Otherwise the Lord will wash you away like mud in
the squares. 'They made our footsteps slip' in the
Ws 8:1. squares,* says the prophet, meaning that those
squares should be considered muddy in which the
foothold is slippery. Let your squares be paved not
with mud but with gold. Let there be no mud for
you there, nor yet any dryness and aridity, but there
let streams of living water flow, some fountains of
spiritual meditation. In your squares apportion these
waters with the largess of a free mind. Wisdom says:
'Like a plane tree I grew tall by the waters in the
Si 24:19. squares'.* Not only in the squares nor only by the
waters, but, wisdom says, 'by the waters in the squares
I grew tall'.
So that joyful saplings of wisdom may sprout,
how much assistance do you suppose they need of
carefree leisure and the frequent watering of holy
meditation? Wisdom so planted will grow tall as a
plane tree. O truly blessed are the squares where wis-
dom grows so tall, rising on high and overtopping all
else, clearly revealed without need for search!
Notice too how some people expose the whole
breadth of their heart to worldly prudence, how they
expand and widen their spirit into a square in order
to plant there a faithless sapling, that is, an alien
seed. How they irrigate it with unflagging exertion
Lam 183, n. 82; and frequent meditation* and schooling. Hence ydu
185 nn. 99,100. m ; ^ <Ji s c o v e r j n them the wisdom of this w o r l d -
luxuriant, fulsome and towering—and the discretion
of this world, bearing its fruit, but among them the
wisdom which comes from God is lowly and obscure
and impossible to find.
9. Go into the squares and streets of the city.
Examine the leisure, investigate the business of those
who frequent the lawcourts, those who preside and
those who plead before their tribunal. Observe
 Sermon Five 93

their actions in public and in the privacy of their

chamber. Does the pure and true wisdom of heaven
tower in their midst? Is the wisdom they treat in
their briefs reflected in their behavior? Will you find
wisdom on display there, towering like a cedar in
Lebanon and like a cypress on Mount Sion? Yes, on
these mountains also wisdom boasts that it grows
tall.* These very names contain a hidden meaning Si 24:17.
and the order of the words is not without purpose.
Lebanon comes first in the praise of wisdom and then
Sion is added; after the radiance of a pure heart you
mount to the splendor of the contemplation of
truth. Purity merits acquaintance, not only that de-
rived from books but also an acquaintance sweet and
intimate, infused into the very marrow of the soul. In
Scripture, purity is the ally of truth, its comrade and
its percursor. Therefore wisdom in her praise joins
both mountains, Lebanon and Sion.
Among those who plead or adjudicate in lawsuits,
will you be able to identify these mountains? Wisdom
cannot be found among men in whom there is no
place for wisdom. But wisdom loves Lebanon, loves
Sion, loves the squares, rejoices in freedom and in the
heights. How great then is the travesty, if that wis-
dom which frequents the courts and whose motive is
profit towers over everything and hides the wisdom
of God! The wisdom of the courts towers over all,
while that which is modest and peaceful and in har-
mony with good men is scorned and lurks in a corner.
The former is cultivated, the latter neglected, as if it
were barren and of little profit. A neglected sapling
does not grow tall. Rarely will you find it towering
in the square like a plane tree. It does not strike the
eye and is rarely encountered. So the bride says:
'I sought him but I did not find him'.
10. Everywhere the name of Jesus is on men's
lips, argued about, venerated. Would that what a
man's voice proclaims, his life would reproduce, his
imitation portray, and his character raise aloft like a
beacon. Let one who seeks wisdom enthroned in
your midst find wisdom at your very gates, in your
very senses, in the moderation and composure of
94 Gilbert of Hoyland

your outward bearing. For your senses are like gates

through which comes an inkling of the one who
dwells within. From your fruits is known whether
Jesus dwells with you. The bride approaches you, she
turns over the leaves of your fig tree, looks for fruit
in you, looks for her Beloved. For this is the fruit
sweet to her palate. Happy are you when you have
plenty of this fruit, when you give the bride of your
Lord her fill of this nourishment. Her food is a chosen
food. Her delight is that her Beloved should be with
you. She is not envious; she is not jealous. She
wishes her Beloved t o be the Beloved of all. She seeks
him in all, either to find him in all or to invite him t o
all. For she seeks Jesus with those whose progress she
seeks in him. She seeks him through the streets and
squares but she cannot find him in all of them.
'I sought him', she says, 'but I have not found
him'. Paul thirsted for the salvation of all; he longed
to find Christ in the hearts of all, as he yearned for all
Ph 1:8. in the heart of Christ.* But listen to what he says;
hear how he complains of some: 'I have no one with
the same spirit' as Timothy, . . . 'all seek their own
Ph 2:20-21; see interests, not those,of Jesus Christ'.*
Lam 7, n. 14. D q y Q U ^ ¡ „ k t h a t Christ can be found with those
who do not seek to find him? In fact, you will find
many who in this way seek something other than him-
self, yet through him. He is made the subject of a
treatise in councils, of a debate in courts, of a dispu-
tation in the schools, of a song in churches. These
preoccupations are religious. But go to the harbor
mouth and consider the result of this stream of
activity. See if all this is not a kind of haggling over
the price of Christ. It is a lucrative business, the
name of Christ. Nothing is more prized, nothing
more desirable. Happy nonetheless is he who prizes
the excellence of this name.
Among others let there be treatises, lawsuits, dis-
putations about this name. For us it is enough if, in
Lam 14,n.53. our cloisters at least, this name be loved.* Nowhere
else is the opportunity greater and therefore nowhere
else is the embarrassment greater, if Christ be not
found under our roof. 7 The fair form of justice is
 Sermon Five 95

not found if the intention of pious works is not

pure. For joyousness itself is a kind of divine eager-
ness of mind, which is usually conceived in his
presence and which we can really interpret as his
presence. This heavenly and transcendent affection,
I say, is no easy matter to be met with at every step.
This particularly the bride means I think, when she
says: 'I sought but have not found him whom my
soul loves', Christ Jesus, who lives and reigns for ever
and ever. Amen.
 NOTES TO SERMON FIVE

1. Reading tam dulcia for jam dulcia with Migne.

2. For this classical passage on scriptural meditation see Lam 182 n. 76.
3. Reading accensum with Mab. for ascensum with Migne.
4. Ergo vacationis et laetitiae usus in plateis est. See Lam 21, n. 93.
5. Reading primo with Migne for prima with Mab.
6. See Lam 196-98. G. explores the opposite of affectionate love or con-
solation under various but overlapping names: tedium or boredom generally
accompanied by sadness, tristitia. Tedium and tristitia are used more frequently
than acedia, which Cassian defines as tedium or fretfulness of heart (PL 49:
359-60). To these G. adds fastidium, disdain, distaste, disgust; acerbitas
bitterness of fruit; and amaritudo, bitterness of heart. G. thinks of these in
various metaphors for stormy weather; tempest, whirlwind, especially the north
wind. G. returns frequently to this topic to give understanding, consolatiori and
remedy: S 5:7, 6:1, 14:3, 16:8, 17:2, 6; 21:2; 2 6 : 5 ; 3 8 : 5 - 6 ; 3 9 : 5 ; 40:1, 7, 9: 45:
6; T 1 : 1 ; T 2:4.
7. Lam 20, nn. 88, 89; 195, n. 168; Jean Leclercq in SAn 31 (1953) 20,
n. 3, and his Vocabulaire Monastique, SAn 48 (1961) 164.

96
 SERMON 6,
T H E WATCHMEN'S VISIONS

Fervent love is detected by good watchmen.

1. Fervent and persevering prayer is necessary.
2-3. Lovers need spiritual watchmen for spiri-
tual discernment; 4-5. various watchmen have
seen the Lord before the Incarnation, after the
Incarnation, by faith and by grace. 6. How
watchmen should report to the bride.

HAVE YOU SEEN HIM WHOM MY SOUL LOVES? 1 Sg3:3

he bride suffers delay in her search and the

Bridegroom casts over her a shadow of
v ^ ,, 2 does not at once grant
access to his presence. Nonetheless she continues her
eagerness with fervent zeal and redoubles her l a m e n t :
'I have not f o u n d him'. Brothers, if eagerness is
repulsed, when will idleness be welcome? If love does
not find, when will lukewarrnness, neglect of prayer
or slackness find him? Now why d o I discuss neglect
of prayer and slackness among you? There is no
need to apply a remedy for a malady you have not
contracted. These vices are foreign to you. For w h o
among y o u is not frequently and fervently at prayer?
If there is no listlessness, however, take care lest the
tedium of delay weary and exhaust your desires. A
charge may be laid against y o u in either case: if your
soul is slack in petition or lax in hope. You hear that
the desires of the bride were delayed, and at the first
rebuff in prayer, d o you petulantly complain that
you are not inundated with the delights of divine
97
98 Gilbert of Hoyland

inspiration? You have only now begun and is your

spirit so quickly deflected from its course? What
if that reproach in the Gospel were brought against
Mt 26:40. you: 'So you could not watch with me one hour'?*
'Watch then and pray, for you do not know at what
Mt 24:42. See hour' your Beloved may come.*
i90 nn Yii"}34- Dogged prayer reaches its goal. And if at the
192, n. 145. beginning prayer seems to you dry and stoney, still
from this hardest of rocks you will squeeze the oil of
grace if only you persevere, if protracted delay does
not sap your strength, if your longings do not grow
slack from deferral. Deferral is obviously painful t o a
lover but desires prolonged grow stronger. Why do I
harp on what you know? Recurring frustration will
give you, indeed many a time has given you, an under-
standing of prayer. I have frequently found you well
versed in the pursuit of prayer. I cannot boast that I
have engendered these affections in you, yet I rejoice
to have found you in them. And if I have not formed
these interests in you, may I at least encourage you in
them! I am a watchman. That is why you often repeat
to me the question of the bride: 'Have you seen him
whom my soul loves'? O blessed soul, exercised by
desires so holy! These are the desires of the beloved, a
beloved able t o enquire only about Christ, for when
discovered by the watchmen, she blurts out this in-
quiry: 'Have you seen him whom my soul loves'?
2. The bride of the Canticle is met preoccupied
with her inquiries: 'The city watchmen' she says,
Sq3:3. 'have found me'.* Imposters and mountebanks dread
nothing so much as detection by watchmen and
if they are caught they are not easily convicted. Cain
became a vagabond and an outcast on earth because
he dreaded detection: 'Whoever finds me' he said,
Gn 4:14. 'will slay me'.* He does not wish his sin to be slain,
he does not wish to suffer wholesome confusion
in confession, the healing chastisement of a master.
He does not wish- to be detected because he does not
wish to die. Now where undisciplined affection does
not fear to be slain but rather is assured of protec-
tion, it vaunts itself wantonly. But the bride presents
herself voluntarily. She goes gladly to meet the
 Sermon Six 99

Bridegroom's comrades. Why not be glad? She is

detected not as one fleeing an avenger but as one
seeking a lover.
'The watchmen found me'. They have not been
found but have found. Herein their diligence is com-
mended. Indolent and unreliable watchmen fail in dili-
gence on this point; they do not make the rounds, they
do not seek to detect anyone whose conscience has
been cauterized with a burning ember and who betrays
the fires of affection by the sign of chaste love and by
eagerness in seeking the Beloved. They do not meet
with their subjects and perhaps are annoyed if their sub-
jects interrupt them. Some utter a word of consola-
tion only if questioned and others not even then.
Such a watchman only repeats the literal meaning of a
text; he adds nothing from his experience or his care
of souls. The task of a watchman is obviously some-
thing more: he must not only reform but also provide;
not only await but rather inspire inquirers; as if from
a lookout he must look over his sons for any one
who has understanding and is seeking God.* I am Ps 13:2; RB 7:27.
your watchman; give me a trained tongue, O Lord,
that I may know how to sustain by the word and
direct towards the word one who has fallen.
3. And what else does the bride want when she
says: 'Have you seen him whom my soul loves'? You
see her not so much wearied as stimulated by spiritual
pursuits.* You have understood her doggedness in Lam p. 177, n. 43.
pursuing her Beloved; now observes her humble
She knows not how to disregard the watchmen. Nor
does she think it safe to pass by without consulting
those whom she knows not only share the Lord's
counsel but also bear his command. 'Have you seen
him w h o m my soul loves'? Yet what is the meaning
of a question phrased so ambiguously? Did she wish
thereby to warn you not to trust every spirit but to
discern whether the spirit is from God?* l j 0 4 : ],
Not all of those who have either shouldered or
seized the job of watchman can give reliable witness
of the Bridegroom. For there are many whose 'eye is
upon the whole earth' and, according to a verse
in Proverbs, 'upon the ends of the earth'.* The light Zc 5:6;Pr 17:24.
100 Gilbert of Hoyland

of the eye is not with them; they are unable t o thrust

it beyond the bounds of earth or to lift it to heaven.
They are indeed reliable and busy enough, but only
in amassing and hoarding earthly goods. 'Their eye'
says the prophet, 'is upon the whole earth'. Insati-
able greed extends over the whole earth. Accord-
ingly, a mind made gross b y earthly cares and by
providing a table of that food which perishes, 2 does
not know how to dispense some viaticum from his
heavenly banquet for his subjects' benefit and to
reflect some clear truth from his heavenly contem-
plation. In fact if such watchmen are perhaps asked
about mysteries of the spirit, they answer that the
plain way of faith and morals is sufficient. In this
way they console themselves for their own sterility
or they measure the avidity of others b y their own
tepidity. For a love listless and lax, with blame-
worthy patience, does not so much yearn for as
wait for future blessings, whereas a watchman of
greater fervor is swept on by burning desire and
attempts to filch a flower or two from the bouquet
reserved for him.
Because the bride knows such watchmen are very
numerous, she weighs her question in a delicate
balance: 'Have you seen him whom my soul loves?'
A watchman may be prudent, faithful, painstaking,
and by careful concern for discipline may ward off
from his fold the intrusion of enemies. Yet he will
not forthwith know how to sing love songs nor as the
Bridegroom's courtier announce his 'presence nor,
suddenly swept into his private chamber, emerge
with some precious drops of interior delight. For
these are t w o quite different graces, on the one hand
to detect the shifty and counterfeit pandering of an
adulterer and on the other to arrange the lawful
visits of the Bridegroom. Since experience of evil is
frequent, knowledge of evil is easy. But because ex-
perience of spiritual encounters is rare and because
judgement about them is delicate, evidence about
them is quite tenuous and spiritual meanings can be
discerned only by spiritual men. Therefore they can
be explained only by spiritual men, such as those of
 Sermon Six 101

whom Isaiah says: 'How beautiful on the mountains

are the feet o f those who proclaim peace, proclaim
good news'.* Is 52:7, See
4. 'Have you seen him whom my soul loves?' Miquelp.157,
The sight of the Bridegroom is not one, or simple, or
uniform. Abraham danced to see his day: 'he saw it
and rejoiced'. 3 Jacob saw the Lord face to face and
his life was spared.* Moses saw him, but only his Cn 32:31.
back.* Isaiah saw the Lord seated on a l o f t y throne.t *Ex 33:23.
Ezechiel saw him.* Daniel saw him in the likeness o f igJ^j'
mant although He had not yet assumed human tDn 7:13.
nature. But every vision o f this kind before the
Incarnation was revealed in bodily appearance but
not in the reality of a human body. The apostles saw
him in the very reality of the flesh and they touched
and handled him.
Yet both the former and the latter saw God
inwardly by faith. He said to Philip: 'he who sees me,
sees also my Father'.* That this sight is a matter of Jn 14:9.
faith is made clear by what follows: 'Do you not
believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in
me? . . . If not my words, accept the evidence of my
deeds'.* T o prove that Philip sees the Father, the Jn 14:10-11.
Lord argues that Philip sees the Son; what conclu-
sion follows except that the Lord meant Philip's
vision of both Father and Son to be understood as
the vision o f God through faith. So the Lord adds to
the argument for belief: 'Do you not believe that I
am in the Father and the Father is in me? . . . I f not
my words, accept the evidence of my deeds.' For if
Christ dwells 'in our hearts by faith',* and if those Ep 3:17; Ac 15:9.
hearts of ours are cleansed by faith, why is He not
also seen in our hearts by faith? As for the visions
mentioned previously, some given in a likeness,
others in the flesh, both sets are full of delight or of
profit, but completeness is reserved for the third set
of visions, those given through faith. 4

5. For to speak of the appearance of the Word

which took place in the flesh, besides the words of
iife which issued from his mouth, what singular
marks of excellence do you think shone from his
visible features! What obvious indications of the
102 Gilbert of Moyland

excellence within were given by his eye, his voice, his

face! In scripture, how every gesture communicated a
divine grace! J o y f u l indeed was that vision, but for
one who believed that God was present in the man.
And indeed that vision accorded the prophets and
patriarchs before the Incarnation of Christ did com-
municate something divine in his visible likeness, as I
believe, and it poured incalculable j o y into the mind
and senses of the beholder. The vision was brought
before the eyes only of those whose spirit was pure.
Even after his resurrection, he is said to have ap-
peared in the reality of his flesh only to the
Ac 10:40-41. 'witnesses God had chosen beforehand'.*
Happy are those watchmen, if there are any to
whom such a vision appears frequently and fami-
liarly, especially a vision which shows him in his
glorified body, as Peter and John saw him trans-
Mt 17:1-2. figured on the mountain.* Yet that earlier vision was
not the reality and this latter not the full reality. For
by that earlier vision Moses was joyfully engaged b u t
Ex 33:13, 18-21. not fully satisfied. 'Show me y o u r s e l f , said Moses.*
But about the Transfiguration the Lord himself said:
'It is for your good that I am going'. Otherwise, 'the
Jn 16:7. Advocate will not come'.* Good is that vision then
which our Advocate brings at his coming; it is spiri-
tual because given inwardly by the Spirit. Then
against Christ the Lord is spirit before our face. 5
This vision exists either in truth revealed spiri-
tually through the understanding or in sweetness
infused by grace. For this latter experience is also to
see. 'Taste and see', says the psalmist, 'that the Lord
Ps 33:9. is sweet'.* Most sweet certainly is this vision and
although not yet full compared with the vision to
come, [it is] yet near that fullness; it is near in
quality if not in equality. This vision is not subject
to human talent nor proposed for the grasp of human
effort, although it is sometimes freely bestowed on
human longing. In short, since this vision is not con-
ceived by the power of the intellect, it cannot
prolong its stay uninterruptedly in the mind's mem-
ory. It is instantaneous. It is its own master. It comes
and goes with the rush of a mighty wind. It is sudden
 Sermon Six 103

and instantaneous, a b r u p t l y arriving and a b r u p t l y

departing. A n d if it is m o m e n t a r y , there linger on
embers of t h o u g h t as b u r n i n g as t h e y are bright and
they keep holiday in the spirit of t h e one w h o remem-
bers. T h e m e m o r y remains of the vision tasted and
savored; t h o s e w h o can savor its sweetness k n o w h o w
to recall it, especially at the hour of prayer. For a
heart still aglow with recent grace recollects one
good word and in fervent meditation pours f o r t h
similar expressions.* For this heart savors m u c h of Lamp. 185,
the inner sweetness in individual words, and its ex- *02 and
Miquelp. 156,
pressions are m o s t attractive for t h e y well up f r o m n. 20.
grace a b o u n d i n g .
6. If y o u are a w a t c h m a n , realize that y o u must
have such expressions ready f o r t h e arrival of the
bride. Why m e e t her, if you d o n o t c o m e t o an-
n o u n c e s o m e delicious or fresh news? If you have
n o t h i n g new, o f f e r what is old. Present w h a t she
knows, if you have n o news. But n o t h i n g is pre-
sented if it m u s t be e x t o r t e d . She does n o t ask in
what guise y o u saw him b u t whether y o u saw him.
It suffices t o present him in the guise she knows. Yet
it brings an increase of grace if you a n n o u n c e some-
thing n e w . Then again what is neither u n k n o w n nor
unfamiliar t o her m e d i t a t i o n b e c o m e s sweet t o the
bride b y a n e w grace. T h e ear does n o t tire w h e n the
heart is on fire; only talk a b o u t the Bridegroom and
you have o f f e r e d s o m e t h i n g novel for the ears of
his bride.
Y o u d o n o t always have an answer ready f r o m
t h a t surpassing a n d transcendent m o d e of vision. It is
sublime and subtle and w o n t suddenly to take
possession of the spirit which it finds pure and free
f r o m distraction. It takes possession s u d d e n l y b u t it
does not remain in possession f o r long. These subtle
m a t t e r s are n o t a t one's beck and call; b u t a watch-
m a n can share s o m e simple delicacy. 6 Each and every
article of faith presented with some tasty seasoning
of explanation begets in the hearer the sweetest of
a f f e c t i o n s and t r a n s p o r t s of the m i n d . T h e bride is
fastidious; she prefers what is delicious t o w h a t is
overpowering, e x c e p t t h a t she 'is capable of all
 Gilbert of Hoyland

things in him who strengthens her',* the Bridegroom.

Let others tell stories or dwell on controversies. Let
your 'lips dwell on wisdom and your tongue speak'
delights, you who speak to the bride.* For she also
wants watchmen ready to relate the biography and
the good news of her Beloved. The lips of priests
should safeguard knowledge; therefore she demands
the law from their mouth,* the law of seeing and
finding her Beloved.
'Have you seen him whom my soul loves?' As a
result of their seeing him, she assumes that she will
see him; therefore she diligently inquires into the
watchmen's vision, hoping by talking with them
either to be led to his hiding place or to be touched
by greater sweetness. For this is to see him whom she
loves, to conceive with eager affection and pure mind
the Wisdom and the Power of God. Well does that
man behold him who conceives him in both ways,
with pure gaze and devout affection. Soft, I think, are
the whispers exchanged between the bride and the
watchmen and pleasant their conference, if it can be
called a conference, for no answer on their part is
mentioned here. If any there be, it is very secret, a
secret which she judges must be wrapped in deep
silence. It is her own secret, all her own. Neither do
we hazard a guess here about an answer the bride
took pains to suppress. With their silence let us now
conclude our sermon, postponing for tomorrow the
passage of the bride in which she says that she passed
on a little beyond the watchmen and f o u n d him
whom her soul loves.
 NOTES TO SERMON SIX

1. T h e s e r m o n is addressed t o one person t h r o u g h o u t , with a d a p t a t i o n s in

the plural in paragraph 1, which praise t h e c o m m u n i t y of Swineshead.
2. J o 6 : 2 7 , reading cibi for sib i with the Florentine ed.
3. J n 8 : 5 6 . Aelred (Oner III; PL 1 9 5 : 3 6 8 - 9 ) divides visio into six kinds:
sensualis, imaginaria, phantastica, spiritualis, rationalis, intellectualis. Aelred and
G, are equally scriptural b u t neither shows d e p e n d e n c e on the other in discuss-
ing t h e same w o r d , visio.
4. J n 1 4 : 9 - 1 2 . See A. Van d e n Bosch, 'Christ and the Christian Faith
according to St. B e r n a r d ' , Citeaux 12 (1961) 105-119, 193-210.
5. Lm 4 : 2 0 ; G. spiritus ante faciem nostram Christus Dominus; Vulg.
Spiritus oris nostri, christu dominus, Jer. Bible 'The b r e a t h of o u r nostrils,
Y a h w e h ' s a n o i n t e d ' . See J. Danielou, 'Saint Bernard et les Peres grecs', S B T 48-51.
6. dulcía non deducit in medium, Mab.; Migne and t h e F l o r e n t i n e ed.
omit non, as in this translation.

105
 SERMON 7,
APPROACH THE BELOVED

Love passes beyond the watchmen to the

Beloved. 1. Seek the Bridegroom with heart
purified, prompt and importunate. 2. To read
about him is no substitute for colloquy. 3. Love
passes by the witness and example of others to
reach towards him. 4. /Is man, he surpasses all
generations in righteousness and integrity.
5. Not the Synagogue but the Church passes
on by faith to his divinity, and finds him the
good Samaritan. 6. The soul of Christ surpasses
angelic spirits. 7. Glorious is the raiment of his
flesh; 8. and gloriously new is his raiment in
the sacrament of the altar. 9. His visible works
are surpassed by the gifts of his soul.

WHEN I HAD PASSED BY A LITTLE. BEYOND

THEM, I FOUND HIM WHOM MY SOUL LOVES 1 Sg 3:4.

Y
ou are importunate creditors and demand
payment from your debtor too relent-
lessly. Yet that is pardonable, provided
you ask for your due. But you demand
that I pay a debt I have not incurred. I was about to
treat of the passing on of the bride. For to this I am
'bound by orderly sequence and by my promise,
whereas with the bride you still insist on asking me:
'Have you seen him whom my soul loves?'* She Sg 3:3.
moderates her enquiry with greater restraint as if
107
108 Gilbert of Hoyland

hesitant, asking rather than insisting. For she knows

that it is not granted t o everyone to speak about this
vision, nor at all times. For once He hides his face,
who may contemplate him?
Yet you urge me t o lay down for you some rule
for contemplating the Beloved and t o give you a
method for this discovery and vision. What does this
mean? Would you have me confine within a rule the
bounty of God's gift? This vision results not from
human effort but from grace. It is the fruit of revela-
tion, not of research. If, however, effort can contri-
bute t o this end, observe first the advice of Isaiah:
Is 1:16. 'Wash, make yourselves clean'.* Secondly, write about
wisdom in your time of leisure, for he w h o is
Sir 38:25. relieved of other tasks will acquire wisdom.* Thirdly,
be violent and capture the joy of the kingdom t o o
Alt ll:12;see long withheld from you.* So you are advised to keep
Miquelp. 155, y Q U r j j C a r t p u r i f l e d , prompt and importunate. By the
first you will become worthy, by the second devout,
by the third eager; that is worthy, attentive and insis-
tent: worthy to welcome grace, meeting it on the
way, impatient when it delays. By the first you are
prepared; by the second you are likened to the bride
as she waits for her Beloved to return from the wed-
ding feast; by the third you hasten, just as the bride
who does not wait but hastens and bypasses even
the watchmen.
I would have done better to say 'passes by'. For
what we bypass, we do not observe or approach but
rather disregard, whereas what we pass by, we
intend t o examine, to question and to probe. Nor
is this passing by profitless. For when the bride had
passed on a little, she found her Beloved. Do you
see, brothers, how much it profits [us] t o consult
the watchmen? It guides the devout but errant soul
to discover her Beloved. Consultation is profitable
indeed, and often what the erudition of the counsel-
lor does not provide is merited by the humility of the
petitioner. It is good for you t o be earnest but not
relentless in such inquiry. For even the bride ques-
tions the watchmen, not so much by design b u t as
chance offers and in passing. Love for her Beloved
 Sermon Seven 109

drew her onward and did not allow her a pause to

confer at leisure with the watchmen. She continued
to run, her heart athirst, catching her breath per-
haps, thanks to the proximity of the Bridegroom. So
she paid less heed t o those who blessed her in word
and sped on to him who blesses in spirit, who is God
blessed above all forever.
2. Pay . heed to this, you who pray on the run
but dally with books, you who are fervent in reading
and lukewarm in praying. Reading should serve
prayer, should dispose the affections, should neither
devour the hours nor gobble up the moments of
prayer. When you read you are taught about Christ,
but when you pray you join him in familiar collo-
quy. 2 . How much more enchanting is the grace of
speaking with him than about him! But if those who
indulge t o o passionately in reading suffer some loss
in spiritual visitations from infrequent prayer, what
shall we say of those who are either dissipated by un-
controlled conversation or distracted by worrisome
disputation? According to the Rule, a monk's role is
not to chat but to observe silence; his quest is not for
questions but for quiet. 3 Or if any disquiet is to be
welcome, it should be that of love not of contention.
Holy love indeed has its own disquiet, but such as
you read about in Isaiah: 'I will not be silent . . .
nor be quiet until the just one comes forth like the
dawn and the saviour flares out like a torch'.* Does Is 62:1.
not the bride suggest a similar anxiety of spirit when
she says; 'When I had passed beyond them'? She was
swept on by the impulse of fervent love and therefore
admits that she passed on, as if surpassing in avidity
and desire anything words could convey. 'When I had
passed them by, I found him whom my soul loves.'
She passed them by either by sifting their teaching or
by evaluating their nature. She passed by both what
could be said by them and what could be seen in
them. For whoever these watchmen may be, although
they be in your interpretation either Cherubim or
Seraphim, they can neither expose in speech nor
express by imitation all that concerns Christ, 'All
things are difficult and man is unable to explain them
110 Gilbert of Hoyland

Qo 1:8. in speech.'* If there is such difficulty with creatures,

who shall speak worthily or fully of their Creator?
So the bride says: 'When I had passed them b y ' .
3. Would that we might be such hearers of the
word of God as not to be overwhelmed by the mes-
sage through either slowness of wit or lukewarmness
of desire, lest the message outstrip both our appetite
and our capacity. But let us pass by this effort rather
of a teacher than of an admonitor, and although we
may not yet grasp, let us divine or at least desire
greater gifts. For in one sense the man who pursues
larger game, though he may not capture it at once,
passes beyond what is presented to him. 4 But the
bride did capture hers; therefore she sings out joy-
fully: 5 'When I had passed them by, I found him
whom my soul loves'.
Why should she not pass by those whose knowl-
edge is limited and whose nature is finite? Indeed he
who is sought is great and immense and no other is
comparable to him. He cannot then be fairly eva-
luated by the witness or example of anyone else.
Everyone else can be passed by; he alone can not be
passed by. He says: 'Come to me all you who desire
Si 24:26. me, and be filled with my fruits'.* 'Come to me', he
says, not 'Pass me by'. For in what way can that be
passed by which is boundless? Full measure, says
Luke, shaken together, pressed down, overflowing,
Lk 6:38. will be poured into your lap.* To you Immensity is
dispensed in measure, but in itself Immensity is im-
measurable. Luke does not say 'full' but 'overflow-
ing'. If then the measure cannot be contained, when
will Immensity itself be contained? How will it be
possible to pass by that which cannot be fully con-
tained? In the Canticle, the bride has no desire t o
pass by but says: 'I held him fast, nor would I let him
Sg 3:4. g°'-* 'When I had passed by a little beyond them, I
found him whom my soul loves.' Perhaps these
watchmen whom she passed a little beyond before
finding her Beloved were closely related t o the
Bridegroom. But if we mean 'closely related' accord-
ing to his divine nature, who among created spirits
approaches anywhere near that Immensity and Ma-
 Sermon Seven 111

jesty? For even if some likeness is ascribed t o them, it

is recognized as far inferior and very unlike. For no
one exists like you, O Lord. Perhaps then this proxi-
mity, which nature excludes, knowledge makes pos-
sible.
4. But w h o would be rash enough to proclaim
that the unfathomable abyss of divine wisdom can be
plumbed by the intellect of a created spirit? 'He
dwells', says Paul, 'in light inaccessible'.* Though he 1 Tm 6:16.
is inaccessible to us, we are not inaccessible t o his
light. So Isaiah says: 'I have brought my justice near'
and my salvation will not be delayed.* Justice has Is 46:13.
been brought near because" made incarnate; nearer
because revealed; but yet brought nearest because
freely conferred. The justice of God the Father,
Christ Jesus was brought near by his assumption of
our flesh. But he outstripped every generation of
mankind by a twofold prerogative in his relationship
to the state of human nature, by his righteousness
and by his integrity. For apart from him no one is
clear of defilement, no one immune from corruption.
He was endowed then with this twofold gift and he
outstripped his fellows.
Accordingly, let your faith also pass by all others,
that in him alone you may weigh the level of justice
and the integrity of the nature you share with him.
Yet do pass on a little, for as he far outstrips us in
justice and freedom from corruption, so he has been
brought near by sharing a nature not different from
ours. In their estimate of him the Jews did not know
how to pass beyond Moses, Abraham and the other
patriarchs or prophets, because they considered him
to be like one of the others and not to possess any
surpassing grace. In John, they insisted: 'Abraham
and the prophets are dead and do you say: " H e who
eats my flesh will not die for ever? Who do you claim
to be?" '* They refused to go beyond the Baptist Jn 8:52-53.
but concluded: John is the Christ.* Yet John did not Lk 3:15.
allow them to stop at himself but disclaimed the
opinion of him they adopted through lack of faith:
'I am not the Christ', said J o h n , 'but in your midst
stands one whom you do not know'.* Jn 1:20.
112 Gilbert of Hoy land

5. The Synagogue knows not how to pass on,

but evaluated him by the standard of the others and
charged him with blasphemy because, man as he was,
he made him'self out to be God. But the faith of the
Church did pass on and discovered him anointed
Ps44:8. with the 'oil of gladness more than his fellows'.*
And with what oil abounding was he anointed! From
his b o u n t y he poured oil into all our wounds! Yes, we
are the wounded man who went down t o Jericho,
fell among brigands, was robbed, and wounded and
left half dead. T o o many passed by and there was not
one to save his life. That great patriarch Abraham
passed by, for he was not the one t o justify but only
justified through faith in the one t o come. Moses
passed by, for he was not the giver of grace but the
lawgiver, giver of that Law which leads no one to the
Heb 7:19; see perfect one.* For justice does not come from the
nT<57 Law.t Aaron passed by. The priest passed by, and by
fRm 3:20; Ga the same victims which he offered unceasingly he was
2:21; 3:21. unable to 'cleanse men's consciences from dead
Heb 9:14. works to serve the living God'.* Patriarch, pontiff
RB 46:5-6. a n ( j p r o p h e t passed by, as barren in spirit as in deed;
indeed in the wounded man, they also were wounded.
At the sight of the wounded only that true
Samaritan is moved with compassion, is all com-
passion; he poured oil into wounds, himself into
hearts, cleansing by faith the hearts of all. So the
faith of the Church passed beyond all men and comes
to him who alone could not pass her by, but set her
Lk 10:30-34. on his beast* and was himself made a beast of
burden. Yes, she passes on a little to discover him
whom she believes t o be so free from corruption that
she proclaims him one who shares her state. She so
considers him the author of grace that she confesses
him to be a partaker in her nature.
6. Now if we should say he far outstrips even
those angelic spirits of heaven by virtue of the most
holy soul which was his possession, this will not be
repugnant t o faith but entirely consonant with the
dignity of his person. For if he was made a little
Heb 2:9. less than the angels* on account of the flesh with
which he was clothed, yet he is their equal in his
 Sermon Seven 113

spiritual substance and their superior in his preroga-

tive of excellence. Therefore O bride, pass by the
angels also. They too are your watchmen and
guardians, for they say through Jeremiah, 'We tried
to cure Babylon but she has not been healed'.* Pass ]r 51:9.
by them, I say, and in your Beloved contemplate the
endowments of his unique privilege. They are min-
istering spirits, not the cause of salvation, 6 whereas
he is the Angel of great counsel 'who accomplished
our salvation in the midst of the earth'.* Therefore Jr 32:19;
Ps
God exalted him and gave him a name above
every name.* Ph 2:9.
Joyous contemplation it is in the family of heaven
to gaze upon simplicity of essence, serenity of mind
and the sweetness of mutual love. Joyous contem-
plation it is to gaze u p o n everlasting existence, purity
of understanding, depth of knowledge, and also upon
humility in obedience, tranquillity in diligence, ease
in achievement.* Yet pass by them all and behold the Lamp. 16, n. 59.
great stature of the one who enters to save the
nations. Hymns of angels escort him as he enters
earth's orbit and on his triumphal return angels wel-
come him with a canticle of wonder: 'Who is this
coming from Edom, from Bozrah in crimsoned gar-
ments, one glorious in his apparel?'* the apparel of Is 63:1.
his own flesh!
7. Rightly glorious is he in this apparel, which
was conceived without intercourse, born of the
Virgin, kept immune not only from corruption but
even from the seeds of corruption, not rent in the
tomb, raised again on the third day, taken up into
heaven on the fortieth day, and every day (a wonder
to be loved above all else) offered t o believers as food
for their salvation!* Who would not wonder lovingly Lamp. 172, n. 16.
at each of these marvels and ask: 'Who is this so
glorious in his apparel?' You have hastened through
all these kinds of marvels 7 or rather you have stood
still in amazement at each of them severally, and
suddenly a fresh source of wonder arises for you.
You would have been sufficiently moved by the
marvels related already; here again you are roused to
amazement, as if that verse of Isaiah were said t o
114 Gilbert of Hoyìand

you: 'Remember not the former things; I am making

Is 43:18-19; things new'.*
Rev 21.5. g What could be newer than this marvel that in
the mystery of the Lord's Body the matter is changed
while the appearance is preserved? The original
appearance remains but there exists a new grace
because there exists a new substance. New indeed
not in itself but in its outward appearance, clearly
new because the substance of the Lord's flesh,
received in an appearance not its own, bestows on
the soul the power of sanctification and in that his
immaculate flesh in the mystery of the altar purifies
our spiritual substance. This is indeed new and
beyond what occurs in other sacraments, because not
only a new grace of sanctification is granted but
also because the natural substance is changed. For b y
the blessing of the sacrament, the bread which is
offered undergoes this ineffable change and by sacra-
mental consecration and by union with the living
Word, this life-giving grace flows back into Christ's
flesh.8 For 'the flesh is of no avail; it is the spirit
Jn6:64. which gives life',* bestowing on the sacred flesh in
the august sacrament spiritual efficacy for imparting
life to those who partake of so great a mystery.
'Glorious therefore is he in his apparel', that is, in
his flesh, but much more glorious in the spirit he
assumed, which to be sure is more excellent than the
flesh because nearer to the Word. Understand that in
his spirit 'he is anointed more than his fellows': that
is, not only more than the children of men but also
more than the angelic hosts. Why should not he,
more than they, be anointed with the oil of grace,
who, not like others by participation b u t by personal
union, is entwined with that most fruitful olive tree
from which all unction flows? Does the Truth and the
Word of God not seem to you like an olive tree, when
his anointing teaches us about all things, when his
words are more healing than oil, when his name is oil
Sg 1:2. poured out?* Entwined with this divine olive tree by
union in one person, he became, if I may say so, the
wild olive which shares our nature and its fruitfulness
but not its corruption.
 Sermon Seven 115

9. What light, what: savor, what sweetness, what

excellence of every kind he received the evidence of
his works gives witness, except that what he experi-
enced in his spirit far excelled what he expressed by
his deeds. In the light of all the external evidence of
his excellence, you may exclaim with the bride:
'your name is as oil poured out', 'not to mention what
lies hidden within'.* For it is not fitting that any ex- Sg 1:2, 4:1, 3.
ternal action, however marvellous, should match the
excellence of his soul. I cannot comprehend, Lord,
all your works though they are exposed to view.
They are of surpassing excellence and it is beyond me
to evaluate them. How then should I experience the
grace which lies hidden within? Eye has not seen, O
most blessed soul of Christ, without your help, the
gifts divinely bestowed upon you. Therefore the
angelic spirits, failing to comprehend, do not cease
to marvel and, as if ignorant but in amazement,
break into the hymn of praise already quoted: 'Who
is this so glorious in his apparel, striding in the
greatness of his might?'

Considering this prerogative of the virtues in her

Beloved, the bride rightly admits that she passed by
the watchmen and passed by a little way; for she so
marvels at the unique grace in him that she nonethe-
less recognizes that his nature is shared with her and
that the blessed soul of Christ is of the same kind as
others but of superior and surpassing excellehce. I
was preparing to expound to you still another
passage, but as the subject matter opportunely sug-
gests or rather demands, the sermon shies away from
it and hastens to its end. Let us meanwhile remain
at the place we have reached, in order that from this
level when leisure is available, we may pass on to
higher mysteries of the Church's Bridegroom, Jesus
Christ, who lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.
 NOTES TO SERMON SEVEN

1. The second plural is used in par. 1, first sentence of par. 2 and last two
sentences of par. 9; second person singular recurs frequently: sis (par. 1), legis . . .
sen's . . . seris . . . interpreteris (par. 2), perpendas . . . pertransi (par. 4), cucur-
risti.. . stupidus . . . substitisti. . . fueris . . . excitaris (par. 7), intellige (par. 8).
2. Lam p. 187, nn. 114, 115; Georges Marie, 'Familiarité avec Dieu', DSp
5 ( 1 9 6 4 ) 50-51.
3. Leclercq, Otia Monastica, 103:3; Lam p. 175, n. 33; 176, n. 4 1 ; 180
nn. 60, 61; 181, n. 67.
4. Reading qui for quid.
5. Reading laeta for electa.
6. Reading operarii for operari, with Mab.
7. Readingadmirationis with Mab. for administrationis with Migne.
8. haec vivificatrix gratia in carnem Christi redundat.

116
 SERMON 8,
CHARITY ASCENDS TO UNDERSTANDING

Love bridges the gap between the human and

divine. 1. The bride finds in her Bridegroom
both natures integrally, the divine, and the
human with body, soul and spirit. 2. He
assumes a rational soul, that we might be fully
reformed in him. 3. Is the knowledge of the
soul of Christ and the knowledge of the Word
one and the same? 4-5. Is the wisdom of all
the same? 6. How is the divinity close to us?
1. What is the meaning of the image of God in a
rational creature? 8. The bride's circuit is com-
plete; a summary of the first eight sermons.

WHEN I HAD PASSED ON A L I T T L E BEYOND

T H E M I F O U N D HIM WHOM MY S O U L L O V E S * 1 Sg3:4.

Y
ou have passed on, O bride of the Lord,
beyond your watchmen, his companions
and associates; companions by nature,
associates by grace. You have passed
them by and come to your Beloved. Why should you
not pass by those who themselves would also pass by
like smoke, if they did not abide in their Beloved?
You have found your Beloved and found him
'anointed with the oil of the Spirit more than his
fellows'.* You have contemplated in him certain Ps44:8.
privileges of excellence in a nature like your own.
You have found that his holy soul possesses some
gifts uniquely, other gifts pre-eminently. You passed
by the watchmen because you preferred him; you
117
118 Gilbert of Hoyland

admit that you passed on only a little, because the

reason for your preference is still founded on fellow-
ship in the same race. But will you stop here? A
departure must be made from this level to further and
higher things; one must reach the end. Wisdom
Ws 8:1. indeed 'reaches from end to end'.*
The heretic too, without according a higher level
to your Beloved, deprives him of this level. 2 He
unites only the flesh with the Word in Christ, and
denies him a soul; or if he does not dare to deny this
(because of the manifest testimony of Christ him-
self who says: 'No one takes my soul from me but I
]n 10:18. lay it down'* and take it up again) he grants him a
soul responsible for sensation but denies him a
rational spirit. He has corrected his error in part but
could not withdraw further from the darkness of
Egypt. He could not complete the 'three days' jour-
Gn 30:36. ney'.* The faith of the Church has defined in Christ a
humanity that is neither alone nor halved. That faith
places both natures together in Christ. Because the
divine nature is simple and free from all distinction,
in his human nature faith confesses that threefold
distinction of Paul, that is, body, soul and spirit in
1 Th 5:23. their entirety,* Otherwise he did not take upon
himself the human nature which he intended to
reform in himself. Scripturally, the rational part of
the human soul also stood in need of the Mediator's
healing, because the soul was darkened by the cloud
of ignorance and aglow with the spark of concu-
piscence. Christ's Church professes that b o t h natures,
the human and the divine, are in Christ integrally
and, like the woman in the Gospel, the Church stores
the leaven of divine wisdom in three measures of
Lk 13:21. human flour.*
2. But why? Did Christ, himself the Word of the
Father and Wisdom and Truth, stand in need of a
rational spirit? There could be nothing which escaped
his attention but he personally 'enlightens every man
Jn 1:9. coming into this world'.* For what reason then did
the light which creates and enlightens need a spirit
created and enlightened? For no reason at all. He has
no need, but this need is mine. The reason derives
 Sermon Eight 119

from my blindness, not from his brilliance; 3 the

reason lies not in the Word who assumes a human
spirit but in the spirit which is assumed. I stood in
need, that this part also of my nature should be
united with the Word and that thus the merits of the
part illumined in God should flood back on all men
through faith.
We are all reformed in Christ, the Mediator who
shares our nature, whenever we approach him through
faith. Therefore the whole man had to be assumed, in
order that grace might flood back into the whole, for
corruption had fermented the whole. In the one per-
son then there remain two natures, in their integrity
and without confusion. For the divine nature is
unchangeable and immutable; it can neither be
changed into another nor allow another to be
changed into it. Neither can it decline from its own
into a nature other than its own. For every change in
it would be a decline, nor is there any greater possi-
bility that another nature be elevated to the divine
nature. We cannot change it but only share in it, by
participation certainly but not by essence. 4
3. Both his natures then retain at once their
integrity and their distinguishing characteristics. Con-
sequently the understandings and affections and con-
templations and beatitudes which are proper to each
are also unmingled, distinct and different and can be
numbered without multiplication of his person. For
who would assert that the most blessed soul of Christ
has no deep feeling of sweetness and joy? Or again
who would allow his soul that inmost taste of sweet-
ness and savor and beatitude which the most Blessed
Trinity enjoys? 5 For it is of greater excellence to be
than to share that living goodness, 6 and there is a
much fuller and more intimate experience in Being
Itself than in the enjoyment of being. To Exist is
indeed to enjoy Existence, yet enjoyment of exis-
tence does not confer Existence. How then is
Existence not superior to mere enjoyment of exis-
tence, since it is more one's own?
Secondly, although the soul of Christ sees all
things in the Word and sees the Word himself in the
120 Gilbert of Hoyland

Word, yet because his soul is not admitted to the

fellowship of Existence itself, neither can it be
admitted to equality of knowledge. For who shall
we say knows all the j o y and delight of being God by
nature and of being Wisdom and utmost Goodness
and Excellence supreme and alone and everlasting,
but the only One admitted to be all this by
Essence? Hence the Word of the Father knows him-
self and all things through himself, the more inti-
mately and clearly and simply, the more unity in the
[divine] Essence is founded on a higher prerogative
than unity in the [divine] Person.
4. We apply this difference to distinguish the
excellences of the one Jesus Christ, in accordance
with the twofold nature in Christ, that is, the
excellences of the Word born of the Father by nature
and those of his spirit created in time. This we do
especially because of those who argue from the unity
of person to equality or rather t o unity of excellence
and knowledge. Yet since they claim that his soul
possesses by grace everything which the Word pos-
sesses by nature, they seem to introduce certain
distances and degrees, if I may use these terms, by
this distinction of names, that is, of nature and of
grace. How much do they refuse him who do not
concede that he possesses or knows the divine nature
by nature? 7 For although the soul of Jesus, because
united to the Word, is enlightened pre-eminently and
by grace, shall his soul also be said t o possess by grace
the prerogative of being both light and the source of
light, by nature and essence and without addition? Or
in what way will the knowledge of nature excel that
of grace, if it is not by clarity? But they adduce those
words of Scripture and very true they are: 'All
wisdom is from the Lord God and was with him
Ws 1:1. always and was before all ages.'* If all wisdom is
from God and with him, and that before all ages, how
then are there many wisdoms together with the wis-
dom which is from God and is coeternal with him,
because it is with him before all ages? There are then
not many or various and different wisdoms, but one
alone and invariable.
 Sermon Eight 121

5. This question is then no longer restricted to the

one soul of the Lord Jesus, but extends to all souls
which partake of any wisdom, so that it can be asked
likewise whether all souls have one wisdom with the
Word of God, or indeed whether all souls have any
other wisdom than that which the very Word of God
possesses. If this is so, then the wisdom of all souls
will be one and undivided. And for what reason is it
called 'all' wisdom, if there is only one wisdom?
What if wisdom is spoken of in the plural, not
in itself it can be numbered, but on account of the
numbers of those who possess it? Now faith also is
spoken of as one, because of the one reality which is
believed, although everyone has his own faith. Why
then should one thing not be spoken of in the plural,
when many things are spoken of in the singular?
Again we speak of many acts of knowledge and of
will in the same person and at the same time, on
account of the number of things which even simul-
taneously he either knows or wills. Considering then
the things known and. not the power of the mind
by which every person knows all he knows, we speak
of the many acts of knowledge of one person and the
one knowledge of many persons. Accordingly the
text: 'All Wisdom is from the Lord God', is no obsta-
cle to asserting the unity of wisdom, for the word 'all'
refers not to wisdom but to the things which are
known by it.
Now because many things are illumined in order
that they may be seen, or that many people may be
able to see, it does not: follow that the light is multi-
ple which illumines the things seen and shines upon
those who see them. What then? Shall we say that
the knowledge of the soul of Jesus is one and the
same as the knowledge of the Word, indeed that there
exists one wisdom of all rational spirits among
themselves and with the Word of God, because the
Word of God is Wisdom? At last then this discus-
sion will no longer be concerned with the soul of
Jesus alone and there will be no way for us to pre-
serve the difference which we have asserted above
between the knowledge of the Word and that
122 Gilbert of Hoyland

of Jesus' soul.
And how can any way be found out of the diffi-
culty, when the wisdom of all is thus proven to be
one, because the light which illumines all is one? Or
perhaps because the illumination takes place in
different ways, do the illuminations differ one from
another and differ from the light by which they are
caused? So also perhaps, in rational souls divinely illu-
minated, will both the light by which they are
illumined and the illumination which is caused by the
light, be distinguished from one another? For the
illumination, to be sure, is produced in the one
illumined and is produced in time, whereas the light
itself is not created but simply exists, and exists from
eter'nity. In this way who would deny that there are
many acts of knowledge in the one mind in which he
admits that there are many acts of comprehension,
although there exists only one power of the mind
which comprehends and sees and only one light which
illumines in order that the mind may be able to com-
prehend and see?
These therefore must be carefully distinguished:
the light and the illumination produced by the light
in the spirit of the one who understands. For this is
what it means to understand and t o be illumined and
to know. Who then would not see (although because
of some similarity, the distinction may be made only
with great subtlety) who, I say, would not see that
the light by which the illumination is caused and the
illumination which is caused by the light in anyone
who is illumined, differ from each other? For the one
is created, the other creates; the one is illumined, the
other illuminates. Neither can the wisdom which
comes through grace be essentially the same as that
which exists by its nature, nor can that which is pro-
duced in time be the same as that which is born from
eternity.
6. If you have made these distinctions in your
Beloved, O bride, and if, from the powers which are
in him in accordance with the condition of his human
nature, you have passed on to the riches of the Word,
then with perfect right you can say: 'When I had
 Sermon Eigh t 123

passed o n a little b e y o n d t h e m , I f o u n d h i m w h o m
m y soul loves'. B u t h o w shall w e fit in t h e e x p r e s s i o n
'a little'? T h e divine m a j e s t y i m m e a s u r a b l y t r a n s c e n d s
every c r e a t u r e , y e t as if t h e divine m a j e s t y w e r e close
and familiar, t h e b r i d e says: 'When I h a d passed o n a
little b e y o n d them, I found him w h o m my soul
loves'. In S c r i p t u r e , a great gulf is fixed between
t h e divine n a t u r e a n d ours. W h a t k i n d of gulf, y o u
ask. T o b e sure, that of o u r e m p t i n e s s : 'All t h e
n a t i o n s ' , says Isaiah, ' a r e as n o u g h t b e f o r e h i m ; as
n o t h i n g a n d e m p t i n e s s h e a c c o u n t s t h e m ' . * R i g h t l y is Is 40:17.
o u r s u b s t a n c e c o n s i d e r e d e m p t y , f o r b y a s s u m i n g it
his fullness is said t o have e m p t i e d itself.* W h a t ap- Ph 2:7.
p r o a c h t h e n a n d w h a t n e a r n e s s c a n t h e void have w i t h
w h a t is solid, can n o t h i n g n e s s have w i t h w h a t is im-
mense? For what reason then does the bride say:
'When I had passed on a little b e y o n d t h e m , I f o u n d
him w h o m m y soul loves'? Is it p e r h a p s - t h a t c h a r i t y
is w i n g e d a n d soars w i t h t h e s w i f t flight of a r d e n t
desire over this i n t e r v e n i n g gulf of w h i c h w e are
speaking? Yes, I agree. F o r t o love is a l r e a d y t o pos-
sess; t o love is also t o b e assimilated a n d u n i t e d . B u t
w h y n o t , since G o d is c h a r i t y ? * Jn 4:8.

7. B u t I have a n o t h e r reason t o a d d here. As o n e

m o v e s u p w a r d f r o m t h e c o n t e m p l a t i o n of t h e highest
r a t i o n a l c r e a t u r e , i m m e d i a t e l y o n t h e n e x t level t h e
divine n a t u r e p r e s e n t s itself a n d a p p e a r s ; n o o t h e r
intervening superior nature is discernible. F o r be-
t w e e n t h e i m a g e a n d t h e reality can b e f o u n d n o t h i n g
i n t e r m e d i a t e , w h i c h w o u l d b o t h surpass t h e image
a n d y e t b e i n f e r i o r t o t h e reality. H o w can w h a t is n o t
t h e original a p p r o a c h a n y nearer t o t h e original t h a n
b y b e i n g its i m a g e a n d i m p r i n t ? In a r a t i o n a l spirit,
t h e n , in w h a t w a y is t h e image t h o u g h t t o r e f l e c t t h e
divine n a t u r e ? In t h e first place, b y b e i n g c a p a b l e of
t r u t h and j u s t i c e . S e c o n d l y , if t h e r a t i o n a l spirit, b y
acquiring t h e s e virtues, b e c o m e s true and just by
grace, as G o d is b y n a t u r e .
Here, in my view, three things are distinct:
n a m e l y t o b e c a p a b l e o f t h e s u p r e m e g o o d , t o pos-
sess t h e s u p r e m e g o o d , a n d t o b e t h e s u p r e m e g o o d .
T h e image is u n d e r s t o o d in t h e first, t h e likeness in
124 Gilbert of Hoyland

the second, the reality in the third. The first is com-

mon to all intelligent spirits; the second is reserved for
the elect; the third belongs to the one uncreated
Spirit. In the first we draw near, in the second very
near; the third is God himself. We draw near by capa-
bility, very near by harmonious conformation; 8 near
by the original endowments of our nature, very near
by the prerogatives of virtue; near because able to
receive, very near because actually receiving. For in
what way does immortality not come close to im-
mutability, incorporeity to simplicity, freedom from
the limitations of place to immensity, reason to truth,
virtue to goodness? And t o speak more plainly, what
can be closer and more like than wisdom to Wisdom,
justice to Justice, an illumined soul to the One illu-
minating, a justified soul t o the One justifying? What
is more like something else than something caused to
its cause, something formed to its form? For in what
is formed, practically nothing is observed but the
form. In scriptural terms, something sweet seems to
be more than all else like sweetness and something
illuminated like light. Accordingly, that rightly seems
very near which consists in such a close imitation of
the original, yes, very near, because nothing inter-
venes. For although our finitude is incomparably
surpassed by the infinity of divine immensity, still
some affinity of the image to the Original is
discerned.
8. With good reason then the bride says: 'When I
had passed on a little beyond them, 1 found him
whom my soul loves'. Oh how happy, how joyous the
outcome of such a long circuit! Blessed are the steps
by which such a goal is reached. She sought him on
her little bed, she made the rounds of the city, she
questioned the watchmen. In the first place she seeks
by herself and at home; in the second outside herself
but by herself; in the third, however, neither by her-
self nor at home. And in this last the more humbly
she seeks, the more effectively; the more she aban-
dons her self-confidence, the sooner she finds him.
'I found him', she says, 'I found him', though pre-
viously he sought and found me like a stray sheep,
 Sermon Eight 125

like a lost coin, and in his mercy anticipated me.* Mt 18:12; Lk 15:9;
Ps
He forestalled me, I say, in finding me when I was
lost. He anticipated me, though I deserved nothing.
He found me astray, he anticipated me in my despair.
He found me in my unlikeness, he anticipated me in
my diffidence. He found me by pointing out my
state to me, he anticipated me by recalling me to his
own. He found me wandering in a labyrinth, he anti-
cipated me with gifts when I was devoid of grace. He
found me not that I might choose him but that he
might choose me. He anticipated me that he might
love me before I loved him.
In this way, then, chosen and loved, sought and
acquired, found and anticipated, how should I not
love and seek him with an effort according to my
strength and with affection beyond my strength? I
will seek him until gaining my desire I may utter my
cry of happiness: 'I have found him whom my soul
loves'. Personally, I ascribe the discovery here not to
the beginning but to the increase of truth and grace.
For as the soul advances and progresses from virtue
to virtue, from truth to truth, as everywhere it is
taught fresh mysteries and flooded with new joys, at
each stage of its progress the.soul can say: 'I have
found him whom my soul loves', the Word of the
Father, Christ Jesus who above all things is God
blessed for ever and ever. Amen. 9
 NOTES TO SERMON EIGHT

1. Quaeris in par. 6, is t h e o n l y w o r d of a d d r e s s .
2. R e a d i n g Denique haereticus, ne superiorem dilecto tuo gradum con-
ferat, hunc tollit; t h e ne o f Mab., Migne a n d t h e F l o r e n t i n e ed. c h a n g e t o Hi. ' T h e
h e r e s y o f the Arians a n d o f A p o l l i n a r i s t h e Y o u n g e r ' is r e f e r r e d t o h e r e , M a b . F o r
Apollinaris o f L a o d i c e a , see Karl B i h l m e y e r , Church History, 1:268-69, with
b i b l i o g r a p h y : ' T h e A r i a n s n o t o n l y d e n i e d t h e divinity o f t h e L o g o s , t h e y also
m u t i l a t e d His h u m a n i t y b y asserting t h a t He i n h a b i t e d a h u m a n b o d y w i t h o u t a
h u m a n soul . . . . W h e n h e [ A p o l l i n a r i s ] was s h o w n t h a t s u c h a d o c t r i n e was
untenable according to Scripture, he restricted himself to teaching that Christ did
n o t have t h e h i g h e r , i n t e l l e c t u a l soul {psyche logike) or m i n d (nous). As a
P l a t o n i s t h e held t h e t r i c h o t o m y o f m a n . H e n c e h e d e c l a r e d t h a t C h r i s t h a d
a s s u m e d o u r flesh (sarx) a n d a n a n i m a l soul (psyche sarkike) b u t t h a t t h e L o g o s
t o o k t h e place o f t h e higher soul or s p i r i t . '
3. R e a d i n g claritatis f o r charitatis.
4. Existendo, a n d r e a d i n g fruendo f o r utendo. See M i q u e l , p p . 1 5 8 - 5 9 ; his
F r e n c h t r a n s l a t i o n of p a r . 2-3, d i f f e r s f r o m t h i s version in several i m p o r t a n t p o i n t s .
5. R e a d i n g p e r m i t t e r e t for permitiere.
6. R e a d i n g participare for particípale.
7. Quantum illi denegant, qui hoc ipsum non dant per naturam habere vel
nosse?
8. Coaptationem is A u g u s t i n e ' s c o i n a g e f o r t h e G r e e k ' h a r m o n y ' in Trin.
4 : 2 , a n d De civ. dei, 2 2 : 2 4 . See B e r n a r d SC 8 0 : 2 - 6 , 8 1 : 1 - 1 1 .
9. See B e r n a r d SC 1 : 1 2 ; SBOp 2 : 9 3 ; P L 1 8 3 : 1 0 3 1 . T h i s last p a r . s u m -
m a r i z e s t h e first eight s e r m o n s of G .

126
 SERMON 9,
HOLDING FAST IN LOVE

The bride holds him fast by the labor of love.

1. How Abraham, Moses, Jacob, Magdalen, and
Simeon differ from the bride. 2. Who has the
happiness of finding and never losing Christ?
Not one bound by the habit of vice; 3. but one
clothed in Christ, to wjtom virtue has become
like second nature. 4. The fuller meaning of the
bride's words is fulfilled not here but in the
heavenly Jerusalem.

I H A V E T A K E N H O L D O F HIM A N D I WILL N O T
LET HIM GO, UNTIL I BRING HIM INTO MY
MOTHER'S HOUSE, AND INTO THE CHAMBER
OF T H E O N E WHO C O N C E I V E D M E 1 * Sg 3:4.

' • w - have taken hold of him and I will not let him
I go'. For my part I wished to interpret this verse
I only of future happiness, when the Bridegroom
J ^ w i l l show his beloved the full revelation of his
presence, that nothing might interrupt its continuity.
For the preceding words, 'when I had passed on a
little way beyond them', are aptly connected with
the text: 'When he has done away with every princi-
pality and power, . . . that God may be all in all'.* 1 Co 15:24, 28.
Before that time who can say with conviction: 'I will
not let him go'? Now to dislodge my interpretation,
the next verse follows closely and imposes a reference
to the present: 'Until I bring him into my mother's
house'.
Now let us carefully consider each point. First
127
128 Gilbert of Hoyland

reflect how full of joy are these words: 'I have found
him, held him, and will not let him go'. The great
patriarch Abraham is said to have seen the Lord, not
to have found him. For the Lord appeared to him
unasked as he stood at the door of his tent at midday.
Then Abraham, emerging from the tent t o meet him,
beneath the spreading ilex showed him fevery mark of
Gn 18:1-8. hospitality.* But Abraham was not found worthy to
bring him into his tent, let alone into his chamber.
Moses also saw the Lord who appeared to him on
Horeb, but he was not found worthy to take hold of
Ex 19 & 34. him nor was he allowed to draw near.* Jacob saw the
Lprd, but saw him in a dream, saw him from afar at
Gn 28:12-13. the top of a ladder.* For although he took hold of the
angel, he did not keep hold of him but wrung the
favor of a blessing from him by dint of hard
Gn 32:24-29. wrestling.* Then Jacob lost his presence and so could
not say: 'I will not let him go'.
Mary of Magdala found him but she was forbidden
not only t o take hold of him but even to touch
Jo 20:16-17. him,* because she looked for life near a tomb. The
old man Simeon took him into his arms, long
awaited and unexpectedly found, and broke into a
joyful song of thanksgiving. But he did not presume
to make his own these words: 'I will not let him go'.
What he said was: 'Now you let your servant depart
Lk 2:28-29. in peace, O Lord, in accordance with your word'.*
Yes, in peace he is allowed to depart, set free and
liberated from the flesh that it may no long»r lust
and do battle against his spirit. Simeon lays aside the
decrepitude of an aging man for the embrace of a
newborn child and either petitions or rejoices to be
released from the burden of a corruptible b o d y and
from the battle against the flesh for a more peaceful
state. But the bride assumes that her Beloved should
not be released. Is it not a much greater grace to
retain what you love than t o escape what you abhor?
2. Although all these saw him in the flesh or in
the appearance of the flesh, they illustrate dif-
ferences between several levels either of vision or of
comprehension in human minds. A privilege not
ascribed to any of them, the bride claims in the words
 Sermon Nine 129

we are trying to sift: 'I found him, I held him and I

will not let him go'. 'I found him' by yearning for
him, 'I held him' by dwelling on him in my memory,
and 'I will not let go' by uninterrupted recollection.
'I held him.' When you also have found Christ, when
you have found wisdom, when you have found
justice, holiness and redemption (for Christ became
all these for us),* when you have found all these, 1 Co 1:30.
hold them by affection and by attention. What you
have found by understanding, hold by diligence and
keep hold, if I may so express it, of the elusive
virtues. Clasp their slippery forms to you in a tighter
embrace until, reversing their roles, they cling to
you, embrace you willingly, hold you fast without
the labor of your own initiative, and permit you
neither t o depart very far nor to be away very long. 2
Even if at times you should turn aside to meet the
claims of human need, there let them pursue you,
recall you, and clutch you to themselves, so that if
they cannot always have your uninterrupted atten-
tion, they may always have your dedicated affection.
Now there seems t o me to be a distinction
between holding Christ, the excellence and wisdom
of God, and your being held by him. Love wisdom,
says the Proverb, and it will embrace you.* Then it is Pr 4:5-8.
also said of some people, that 'pride has taken hold of
them'.* What does 'taken hold' mean but ensnared Ps 72:6.
and entangled and bound in the unbreakable chain of
inveterate habit? 3 For this verse follows: 'They were
covered with their iniquity and impiety',* so that Ps 72:8.
they could not easily wriggle out and extricate them-
selves from that habit. Indeed those who are caught
in the habit of vices, if I may amplify, are as it were
covered and wrapped in a hide, so that to unlearn and
break the habit is not so much to be stripped as to be
flayed. Perhaps as evidence of this, the prescriptions
of the Law ordain that a victim's hide is to be
stripped off.* Lvl:6.
3. Now the directive which commands a priest to
be vested in binding linen* requires you to be more Ex 28:4; Lv 8:8.
tightly bound in the habit of that Truth which 'has
arisen from the earth',* in order that by itself the Ps 84:12.
130 Gilbert of Hoyland

virtue of chastity, purity and innocense may cling to

you and stick fast to you. The Law requires no less
that all priestly vestments be fastened and gathered in
Ex 28:14, 28:39; by little chains or belts or ribbons,* that when you
tRm 13-14 have put on our Lord Jesus Christ,t when you have
put on 'the bowels of his compassion, kindness,
charity' and the other virtues of which you read in
Col 3:12. Paul,* when in your memory you have been clothed
with faith in Christ and have filled your marrow with
a yearning for the contemplation of truth, every-
thing may fit and cling and be bound to you, and
nothing can float and wave and flap around you, as if
blown in the wind of temptation or dissipation.
Of the man clad in such a habit of virtue that for
him virtue seems to have become second nature, I
would say that he has not so much embraced as been
embraced by virtue. 'You have taken hold of my
right hand', says the psalmist, 'and you have guided
Ps 72:24;see me with your counsel'.* 'You have taken hold' lest
«"190 1 9 9 ' 1
hasten towards a fall; 'you have guided me' t o mani-
fold progress; 'you have guided me with your coun-
sel', that is, with counsel which is from you and
follows you, with counsel which attracts rather than
is attracted. For at times we strive with great effort
to attract even good counsel and we pursue it like a
fugitive rather than follow it as a leader. For so the
Ps 118:20, psalmist says: I have longed to desire.* Good is that
counsel but not yet pleasant, correct but not yet
agreeable. 'In your counsel you have guided me', in
that counsel which depends on the alluring taste of
goodness itself and relies, if I may so express it, not
so much on sluggish reason as on a holy delight in
goodness itself.
4. 'I have taken hold of him and I will not let him
go, until I have brought him into my mother's house
and into the chamber of the one who conceived me.'
There would seem to be a much fuller meaning, 5 if
she had said: 'I will not let him go when I have
brought him into the house of my mother, that is, of
the heavenly Jerusalem which is above, who is the
mother of us all. Before that time all things here are
unreliable; they fluctuate between hope and fear
 Sermon Nine 131

and hang in the balance. And what is our assurance of

grace, when nature is fickle? Again the psalmist says:
'As for me, I said in my prosperity: "I shall never be
moved". You hid your face from me and I was put to
confusion'.* Do y o u not think that the psalmist and Ps 29:7-8.
the bride said much the same thing? What else is
the meaning of: 'I shall never be moved', but what
we are now considering: 'I will not let him go'? Yet in
the former text his presumption is obvious, because
retribution is close at hand: 'You hid your face from
me and I was put to confusion'.
Because in this mortal flesh, alas, a fall is easy,
attacks are frequent, lapses come quickly and toil is
inevitable, how shall these words of the bride, 'I will
not let him go', not seem to proceed from presump-
tion and an impetuous devotion? Who on earth will be
able to persevere in the same state, especially in that
state of most subtle contemplation which can scarcely
be attained b y the most delicate thrust of the mind?
Perhaps then her words show not her self-assurance
but her a n x i e t y . For there cannot be any assurance
until she has brought her Beloved 'into her mother's
house and into the chamber of the one who con-
ceived her'. Then there will be no anxiety about
keeping him, because there will be certainty about
remaining in that state of bliss. Without our need for
attention a n d our safeguard of discipline, streams of
living water and of unwearying delight will flow over
us unbidden. Indeed they will surge within us from
an inexhaustible well of the soul. Then there will be
no need to dig deep, no labor to clear the wells which
the Philistines have polluted,* no expedition to pre- Gn 26:18.
vent their pollution of the wells. Here that labor is
demanded, for there it is excluded. So the bride's
resolve, 'I will not let him go', seems to promise both
attention and diligence, that she m a y be ever solici-
tous until she can be fully secure,-lest in future her
Beloved should slip a w a y from her, the Lord Jesus
who lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.
 NOTES TO SERMON NINE

1. This sermon addresses one individual. This verse is a refrain; see

Bernard SC 52 on Sg 2:7, and John of Ford, Sermons 98-99 on Sg 5:2-8.
2. Seems to refer to Menelaus wrestling with Proteus, Homer, The Odys-
sey, 4:450-70.
3. Reading indissolubili rather than delicato.
4. May refer to the flayed seal-skins in Homer, The Odyssey, 4:435-40, or
to Marsyas, the satyr flayed alive by Apollo.
5. Reading multo plenior sensus with Mab. rather than planior with
Migne.

132
 SERMON 10,
H O L D I N G A N D BEHOLDING

The lover holds and beholds him, steadfast in

charity. 1Charity calls from contemplation to
action, but works of charity are a prayer.
2. Active and contemplative life differ. 3. The
virtues are gradually acquired. 4. The first
finding and holding of Christ is not the final
possession.

I WILL NOT LET HIM GO, UNTIL I HAVE

BROUGHT HIM INTO MY M O T H E R ' S HOUSE1* Sg3:4.

I
n the preceding sermon we contrasted with the
bride examples of weakness; t o d a y let us compare
examples of strength f r o m sacred Scripture. Of
Hannah it is said that when she prayed earnestly
with tearful affection, 'her countenance was no
longer changed into something different'.* The IS 1:18.
countenance is the interpreter of the spirit and derives
its expression f r o m inmost affection. Steadfastness of
countenance is evidence of an inner perseverance
which exists in the soul. Hannah's countenance was
no longer changed, because there was n o lessening of
the longing she had once conceived. What else does
the bride mean when she says 'I will not let him go',
but that 'I will not change my countenance i n t o
something different' and I will not turn the gaze of
my mind away from him'. The exhortation of Paul is
similar: 'Pray without ceasing',* 'always giving 1 Th 5:17.
thanks'* and 'rejoicing in the Lord a l w a y s ' t . Paul *Ep 5:20.
wants prayer, thanksgiving and j o y in the Lord to be ^ 4 : 4 ~
133
134 Gilbert of Hoyland

continuous and uninterrupted.

Yet who is competent to satisfy Paul's wish by the
bent of his mind and his unwearied affection of spirit,
but a man permitted to say: who shall separate us
from the contemplation of Christ? Paul does say:
Rm 8:38. 'Who shall separate us from the love of Christ'?* He
could not say 'from the contemplation of Christ'.
Yes, at times charity compelled him to be removed
from the contemplation of Christ. 'If we were out of
our mind, it was for God', he said, 'and if we are in
our right mind, it is for you, for the love of Christ
2 Co 5:13-14. impels us'.* Charity then, by a kind of dispensation,
withdraws from contemplation, although the prac-
tice of contemplation is proper and familiar to
charity. All good works of charity have their oppor-
tunity and effectiveness from tireless prayer and
thanksgiving. But charity performs good works more
freely and more perfectly when it is engaged in good
works in a special way. Slip alms unseen into the
bosom of the poor man and 'alms will pray for you
to the Lord'. 2
In the word 'alms' may appropriately be included
everything given with compassion to the needy, not
only food and clothing for the body, but also teach-
ing, exhortation, correction, consolation, and every-
thing which seems to concern only the well-being of
the soul. The latter are works of charity and are in-
vested with the power of prayer when performed with
God alone in mind, though they are not the special
and characteristic works of charity. For what is so
characteristic of charity as to wait upon the Beloved
alone and t o engage freely in the commerce of love?
To return t o sobriety after this transport and inebria-
tion of spiritual pleasure and for a brother's needs to
refrain from ecstasy, what is this but t o 'change one's
countenance into something different'? Martha also
was 'anxious and troubled about many things'. That
trouble about many things resembles some 'change of
countenance into something different'. 'Mary has
chosen the best role, which will not be taken away
Lk 10:41-42. from her'.*
2. The best role is the practice of contemplation
 Sermon Ten 135

and love. For although the works which Martha was

performing are works of charity, nonetheless charity
there is the handmaid of necessity, not its own hand-
maid. To relieve the needs of others is indeed a good
work but the reason for it is disturbing. Indeed com-
passion is good, but wretchedness disturbing. Healing
is good, but the illness about which it is concerned is
not good. The feeling of compassion in necessity is
good, but the suffering of another which provides the
occasion for compassion is not good. In the needs of
the brethren, charity looks for someone with whom
to grieve and to be moved to compassion, and some-
thing to try to remedy . But when the virtues of the
Beloved are contemplated, everything pleases, every-
thing delights, everything attracts. Charity there sees
nothing loathesome to face but only what it may
gently embrace.
This is the proper practice of love, this is its duty:
to be wholly immersed in loving. So love clearly
exists when one and the same delight enfolds and
embraces all three: duty and cause and end. The duty
is love, the cause is vision, the end is both; there
cannot be any more blessed end than the very vision
and love of God. All the longings of the saints aspire
to this end. This end is an end in itself, content with
itself, incapable of directing its expectations to any-
thing better. This is the one thing said t o be necessary,
which is not taken away from Mary and in which the
psalmist rejoices: 'For me it is good to cling to
God'.* ps 72:28.
This is the transport of mind which had swept
Paul even t o the third heaven.* This is the inebria- 2 Co 12:2.
tion which made Hannah's countenance beam like
that of a tippler.* With this ferment the apostles 1 S 1:13.
were intoxicated, when the mighty spirit had filled
them* and they felt for the first time the might of Ac 2:1-21.
wine which Jesus promised as something new.* Mt 26:29.
Brimful of this wine, Noah underwent a transport of
spiritual sleep and neglected the care of his person;* Gn 9:21.
made whole in spirit, he despised what lay behind, be-
cause what lay ahead wholly preoccupied him.
Happy would he be if, like Hannah, he had never
136 Gilbert of Hoyland

experienced the potency of wine from our grapes. In

her body outwardly temperate, Hannah underwent a
tipsiness of mind and a holy inebriation which subse-
quently she would not shake off. This is the meaning
of the text that her 'countenance was not further
changed into something different'.
Such a continuing awareness of her Beloved's
presence the bride seems to promise herself, when
she says 'I will not let him go'. For would she be say-
ing anything distinguished, anything spiritual, any-
thing worthy of a bride, if her statement, 'I will not
let him go', referred t o faith, justice, humility, con-
tinence, generosity and the other virtues which
Christ is said t o be? It is incredible that she should
lack these virtues, even when she was seeking her
Beloved. In Scripture, virtues such as these are ordi-
nary and so suitable for those who possess them, that
it would be considered impious t o lack them.
3. Therefore her discovery indicates something
extraordinary and uncommon, whereby she boasts
that she has caught her Beloved and assumes that he is
not to be released. Perhaps these are some firstfruits
of future contemplation and glory; therefore she
adds 'until I bring him into my mother's house, into
the chamber of her who conceived me', into that
heavenly Jerusalem who is mother of us all, whose
walls are the dwelling of Salvation, whose gates are
the haunt of praise, and whose boundaries are marked
Is 60:18,1 7. for peace.* Into that place of light and rejoicing, the
laborious virtues of this life cannot be introduced; if
they enter by merit, they are locked out by their
need for exercise. Having experienced then in her
Beloved, a heavenly affection and an otherworldly
savor, the bride adds not as a boast but in jubila-
Miquel, p. 157, tion:* 'I will not let him go, until I bring him into
n 2
- m y mother's house'.
But has he not already ascended to his Father?
Has he not entered on our behalf, our precursor?
And how will you introduce him there, where he has
ascended before you? Rather you need him to lead
Ps 118:35; f to ^ p s a l m j s t s a y s : 'Lead me in the
G: in via; Vulg.: ' ' ' . ,
insemitam. way of your commandments'. 'I am going away he
 Sermon Ten 137

says, 'to prepare a place for you'; when I have done

so, 'I will come again and take you to myself'.* Jn 14:2-3.
How then will you introduce him there, where he
has already ascended? He has ascended indeed in
himself, but in you he still stands outside; in you he is
introduced there, where in his own person he as-
cended before you. But why not? He is born in you,
he is formed in you. Is he not also introduced in
you? 'Little children', says Paul, 'with whom I am
again in travail, until Christ be formed in you'.* Ga4:19.
Christ then is born and made perfect in us, not once
but often, and I believe by a travail often and
frequently repeated. Neither can we make all Christ's
virtues our own at the same time nor fully reproduce
even one virtue. Therefore we must persevere at all
times, for only gradually does the spiritual birth of
Christ take place in us.
Since then in his members he is born in his bride,
why is he not introduced in her? For neither this birth
nor this introduction of Christ can be applied to
Christ's person but to his virtues and to his grace.
Therefore as the birth, so the introduction is often
repeated. Now we are also said to be seated in
heavenly places together with Christ.* But as there is Ep 2:6.
one, true and eternal session in heaven, so also there is
a like introduction. Abraham walked through the
land of promise before he came into possession of
it.* Happy indeed is the one who is allowed to walk Gn 12-17.
through those blessed regions and like a visitor to
tread with quick step every place which he is to
receive into his possession. Happy is one who,
though not permitted t o linger, is allowed to ascend
the mountain of the Lord and, although in shadow
still and for a brief moment, to scan the whole hori-
zon and be regaled with such a view.
4. But the true and complete introduction seems
to be suggested here by the words: 'until I bring him
into my mother's house'. Happy indeed is she who
was able to bind and closely bond the Word of God
to herself and in exile to keep him at her side until
she is allowed to be united with him in this chamber.
'I will not let him go until I bring him into my
138 Gilbert of Hoyland

mother's house and into the chamber of her who

conceived me'. This will happen when in b o d y and
mind she will bear fully the likeness of the heavenly
one, since you may interpret the house to mean the
body and the chamber to mean the mind. Or, if you
prefer, take the house to mean assured possession,
the chamber to mean secret possession; the house
everlasting possession, the chamber interior posses-
Qo 12:5. sion; the house, as Ecclesiastes says,* possession of
eternity, and the chamber possession of charity. In
the chamber, where you may no longer pray t o the
Father behind closed doors, for the future you may
Jo 4:23. still, adore him 'in spirit and truth'.* 'Into the
house', she says, not of my father but 'of my mother'
and 'into the chamber of her who conceived me'.
She knows the measure allotted to her and therefore
she extends her hope to that eternity, truth and
charity which the Church of the firstborn has
attained in heaven. 5 Now considering what belongs
to God, he alone possesses immortality and 'dwells in
1 Tm 6:16. unapproachable light',* while the fullness of Christ's
charity surpasses all knowledge. May he fill us to utter
Ep 3:19. fullness in himself,* who is the blessed God and reigns
for ever and ever. Amen.
 NOTES TO SERMON TEN

1. The sermon addresses one individual.

2. Si 29:15; G: absconde . . . sinu\ Vulg.: conclude corde. See Lam. p.
192, n. 148.
3. Ecclesia primttivorum in coelis. See also S 13:3, 34:1, 38:4, 41:1, 45:7.
See G. Olsen, 'The Idea of the Ecclesia primitiva in the writings of the Twelfth-
Century Canonists', in Trad. 25 (1969) 61-86; E. T. Kennan,'The De considera-
tione of S. Bernard of Clairvaux and the Papacy in the mid-twelfth century: A
Review of Scholarship', in Trad. 23 (1967) 87ff. 'As Olsen shows, the "ecclesia
primitiva" is the symbol of the perfect life both for monks and for clerios. The
words of the Exordium Magnum, "scola primitivae ecclesiae", are typical. The
expression "ecclesia primitiva" became so current as signifying a model of reli-
gious life that at times it became a label giving a historical guarantee to institu-
tions alleged to have existed in the early Church'. Cyprian Davis in Bulletin of
Monastic Spirituality 1970-72, no. 593.

139
 SERMON 11,
KEEPING SABBATH F R E E

The bride keeps sabbath free to see him.

1. Love frets over distractions; 2. contempla-
tion surpasses activities; 3. and is compared to a
Sabbath, the Sabbath of the Lord after Crea-
tion and after the Restoration. 4. Contempla-
tion is freedom from outer works for inner life.
5. Do not waste this leisure, this triple freedom.

I H A V E T A K E N H O L D O F HIM A N D I WILL N O T
LET HIM GO UNTIL I BRING HIM INTO MY
MOTHER'S HOUSE AND INTO THE CHAMBER
OF HER WHO C O N C E I V E D ME1* Sg3:4.

T
he affection of love is a delicate plant and
spiritual j o y is w o u n d e d by the slightest
mishap. Love frets over outward occupa-
tions, considering it enough to mind its
own business. Love rejoices in leisure and is en-
couraged b y repose. Love longs to have periods free
for interior delights. 2 Do you not think the bride
implies this, when she draws her Beloved into the
privacy of the chamber? She knows that, outside, her
Beloved cannot be securely or even wholly possessed.
A n d h o w hard it is for a lover to divide the spirit
between Christ and the world! How hard it is, I say,
t o admit alien cares to the rights of perfect love and
t o disturb the heavenly mystery with throngs of
worldlings. 'I was mindful of God', says the psalmist,
'and I was delighted, b u t I was drained and my
spirit grew faint'.* If delight drains itself and exhausts Ps-76:4.
141
142 Gilbert of Hoyland

the prophet's spirit in the business of remembering

God, how can many and alien affairs be embraced
along with God? Rightly then does the bride seek the
chamber with her Beloved, that she may wait upon
him with unhampered attention, enjoy him with
freedom of spirit and embrace him utterly with
peace of heart. Clearly she who seeks in this way an
opportunity of engaging in love is led by the spirit of
charity and has spoken with the affection of a bride.
2. If we have made some slight approach to
Christ, to wisdom, to sweetness, to the taste of con-
templation, how is it that, not satisfied with that
grace and disregarding our limitations, we at once
struggle to break out and, disdaining our cells,
hasten to abandon our rest, a rest so great? 'In peace',
says the psalmist, 'in the self-same, I will sleep and
Ps 4:9; in pace in take my rest'.* Seated at the Lord's feet, Mary held
idipsum dormiam f a s ( . t Q t } l a t ' s e lf-same', while Martha was troubled
et requiescam.
about many things. In many things there is trouble,
Lk 10:39-42. but 'one thing is necessary'* and indeed pleasant.
Then 'how good and how pleasant it is', when lovers
Ps 132:1. 'dwell together in unity!'* 3 There is no dwelling
together in unity, except in a love, 'which causes
those sharing a common outlook to live together in
Ps 67;7. the same house'.* What does 'sharing a common out-
look' mean but sharing one form through the cove-
nant of love? Love reconciles and unites the human
spirit with God. 'We shall be like him', says J o h n ,
1 Jn 3:2. 'when he appears'.*
Why should we not be like him? The inestimable
beauty of the divine majesty, once revealed, com-
mends itself to pure minds, ravishes the affection of
the beholder, and in some way makes the mind like
itself, allowing it to think of nothing else. We are
lured by scent but we are transformed by sight. Good
then is the practice of contemplation, which confers
upon the human mind a common outlook and brings
it into conformity with the supreme Majesty. Good it
is to dwell here, for desires lure us no further and
desires should not stop our advancing so far. Who will
grant that this may be my rest for ever and ever?
Happy the man who can say from his heart: 'This is
 Sermon Eleven 143

my dwelling, for I have chosen it'.* Mary has chosen Ps 131:14. See
the best part, which shall not be taken away from Lam, p. 8, n. 21.
her.* Knowledge will pass, prophecies will disappear, Lk 10:42.
tongues will cease;* contemplation alone will not fail 1 Co 13:8.
in the future. Therefore choose this part for yourself
for the present, for this part will never be taken
away, that your soul may say: 'The Lord is my
part' and therefore I shall contemplate him. The
prophet says: 'Therefore I shall look for him'.* And Lm 3:24.,
rightly, because he looks for the fullness of goodness,
a portion of which he already possesses. One who
here enjoys the good of contemplation may look for
something more of the same kind, but ought not to
look for something different.
3. These good things are blessings stored up for
many years, indeed for years 1 without end. Happy
then are you, O soul, if you enjoy this good; dine,
feast, for your portion will not be taken away, but
[will be] more bountifully renewed and reformed.
This is your rest for ever and ever; 'This is my dwell-
ing, for I have chosen it'.* Dwell here, that you may Ps 131:14.
dwell with him who sits above the Cherubim,* above Is 37:16.
the fullness of knowledge, who 'dwells in light
inaccessible'.* So let your place be in the light of con- 1 Tm 6:16.
templation. This is the proper and familiar place of
your mother the Church, this is her house; other
duties, which she carries out to meet temporal needs,
look to this end. Duties of the active life are transient;
those of the contemplative life are permanent. It is
good for you to be here; here build a tabernacle for
yourself, not one for yourself and another for your
Beloved but one for the two of you.* Mt 17:4. See
Lam
Introduce your Beloved into this chamber. Enter ' p • 6 ' "•
into your repose, that you may rest from your
labors, as God did from his. On the seventh day he
rested from the work of creation; on the seventh day
he rested from the work of restoration. On the
former day, after he established the universe; on the
latter, when he hid himself in the tomb. On the
former day, after setting the universe on its founda-
tion; on the latter, after renewing mankind. If you
have sought, if you have found, if you have taken
144 Gilbert of Hoyìand

hold' of your Beloved, hold fast the one you hold.

Hold fast, cling to him, press yourself upon him,
that his image, expressed as it were in you, may
Cf. 2 Co 3:18; be renewed, that you may be the imprint of his seal.*
Rm 8.29. g u t t j x j s y O U W{H jf y O U c l i n g t Q J 1 i n l j <f o r m a n

1 Cor 6:17. who clings to God is one spirit with him'.* Perhaps it
is difficult at first t o imprint him upon yourself as
upon hard metal. But if the imprinting is laborious,
the clinging is sweet. Laborious is the sixth day of
your reformation, but sweet are the sabbaths of rest
which follow.
4. Be buried then together with Christ, by keep-
Rra 6:4. See Lam, ing this sabbath unto death.* For 'blessed are the
p. 10, n. 28. dead who die in the Lord; from now on, says the
Rv 14:13. Spirit, they may rest from their labors'.* The Spirit
says this by revealing and bringing about the repose
and grace already conferred, just as the 'Spirit him-
Rm 6:8. self bears witness to our spirit'.* The Spirit says this,
because the Spirit brings this about. The Spirit says
this, because he grants this. 'From now on, says the
Spirit, they may rest from their labors'. ' F r o m their
labors', he says, not 'from their works', for their
Rt> 14:13. works follow them'.* Works follow the spirit as heat
follows fire, shadow a body, light the sun, an effect
its cause. He who keeps sabbath in the Spirit has no
need t o pursue works, for his works follow him.
'Their works.' What are their works? What are the
works of those at rest, the works of those w h o have
died in Christ and been buried with Christ, the works
of those keeping sabbath? They are festive works,
holiday works; they are works equivalent to leisure. s
Hasten to enter into this rest, into this holding of sab-
bath. But note that celebrating a sabbath is left only
for those who are buried with Christ, only after the
sixth day, that day on which either the old man is
crucified or the new man is perfected. For because of
the Sabbath after the crucifixion, one is told how
those who have died in Christ rest from their labors.
Because of the sabbath after the creation, when the
new man had been created on the sixth day, one is
Gen 2:2. told that God rested from his works on the seventh.*
Do you also secure a sabbath for yourself, redeem
 Sermon Eleven

your time,* and claim for yourself hours free Eph 5:16.
from outward occupation.
5. But take care lest enemies mock your sab-
baths, lest your times of leisure serve them, lest you
be free for them, when you should have been free for
God. 'Be free and see that I am God',* says the Ps 45:11.
psalmist. Leisure is good, but 'write of wisdom in
your time to leisure'.* 6 Write wisdom on the breadth Si 38:25.
of your heart. For the heart is broad which is not
shrivelled by cares. Imprint in the depth of your
heart letters which are indelible, and inscribe charac-
ters of wisdom on the tablets of your spirit, that you
may be able to say: 'The light of your countenance
was stamped upon us, O Lord; you have put gladness
into my heart'.* Rejoice and keep holiday with your Ps 4:7.
Beloved, feasting, as it is written, at the entrance of
such glory.* 'The sabbath', as Isaiah says,t 'is the *Ps 75:11;
delightful and holy and glorious day of the Lord.' 7 Lk 15:23
-
fIs S8:13
'Delightful and holy', he says. '
Everyone at leisure is full of desires,* but not all Pr 21:25.
desires are holy; witness those of the men 'who wish
to become rich' and thereby 'fall into many useless
and harmful desires'.* You see how Paul counts as a 1 Tm 6:9.
vice a multitude of desires. What if these desires are
also unclean? Many who are unable to carry out their
desires think in secret of what would be indecent
even to mention, finding satisfaction in this vain
subterfuge. To exclude such persons, not content to
call the sabbath 'delightful', Isaiah adds, 'and the
holy and glorious day of the Lord', that your glory
may not be to your shame. If you are free, you have a
sabbath; if you are free and have eyes to contemplate
the delights of the Lord, then your sabbath is
'delightful and holy', a glorious sabbath of the
Lord; a sabbath within a sabbath, that is freedom
in freedom. 8
The first freedom is good, if you are not free for
the world. The second indeed is better, if you are
free for yourself and think of how you may please
God.* The third is the best, if, forgetful even of 1 Co 7:32.
yourself, you are free only for God and think of
what concerns the Lord, how he may be pleasing to
146 Gilbert of Hoyland

you. Let not your sabbath be one of idleness;

perform the works of God on your sabbath. Now the
work of God is that you should believe in him. It is by
1 Co 13:12. faith that you see. Indeed we see now in a mirror;*
therefore be free, that you may see. Sight, and
especially the sight of God, is a delightful work. For
the future, there is no necessity for you to fight for
the faith but only t o take your delight in the faith.
The faith has already been snatched from the attacks
of the people who persecuted it and of the heretics
who distorted it. Let faith head the column of your
thoughts, that you may think the 'trustworthy
Is 25:1. thoughts of old. Amen'.* 9
 NOTES TO SERMON ELEVEN

1. The s e r m o n is addressed t o one individual,

2. Cited b y Leclercq, Otia Momstica, SAn 51 (1963) 9 0 : 3 1 .
3. G: amantes, Vulg.: fratres-, see Lam p. 15, n. 55.
4. Leclercq, Otia Monastica, 105:7.
5. Leclercq, Otia Monastica, 1 0 5 : 1 4 .
6. Vulg.: vacuitatis, G: otii,
7. G. writes delicatum est et sanctum et Domini gloriosum, Mab.
8. Leclercq, Otia Momstica, 119:23.
9. The ' A m e n ' is within the q u o t a t i o n , b u t seems to have suggested to
editors the end of t h e S e r m o n . Mabillon notes t h a t in the Codex of Clairvaux,
sermons eleven and twelve are not divided. The first manuscript t o divide sermons
eleven and twelve (Troyes, Bibliotheque Municipale, ms. 4 1 0 , ff. 1 - 1 1 9 ) dates
from the t h i r t e e n t h c e n t u r y and also comes f r o m Clairvaux.

147
 SERMON 12,
BETWEEN HIS SHOULDERS AND HIS BREAST

The bride rests between his shoulders and on

his breast. 1. Her rest demands an equipoise of
law and liberty. 2. Outward repose is the
opportunity for inward vision; 3. an oppor-
tunity for the joy, peace and sleep of contem-
plation. 4. What is the difference between con-
templation upon his breast and between his
shoulders?

I H A V E T A K E N H O L D O F HIM A N D I WILL N O T
LET HIM GO UNTIL I HAVE BROUGHT HIM
I N T O MY M O T H E R ' S H O U S E * 1 Sg3:4.

T
hey know not how to entertain 'the
thoughts of old',* who coin novelties in Is 25:1.
words,* who forge new dogmas, who do 1 Tm 6:20.
not reject puerile longings,* who have no 2 Tm 2:22.
ore stamped with gravity or authority or antiquity.
There is no final 'Amen'* where there is dispute or Is 25:1.
deceit in thoughts, where either disbelief exists or
faith wavers. Enter into the secure depths of faith.
Introduce your Beloved into your mother's chamber,
so that whatever experience, whatever opinion you
have about Christ, you may keep within the rules of
the Church and conform to her censure. Such works
as these perform on your sabbath. Otherwise, if you
are free and do not apply yourself to such pursuits,
vain thoughts and poisoned counsels will easily
sprout in an unharrowed spirit. 2 As you know from
Proverbs, the field of the idler is overgrown with
149
150 Gilbert of Hoyland

Pr 24:30-31. nettles and thorns,* and in Luke the Lord tells you
that 'there will be two in one bed; one will be taken
Lk 17:34. and the other left'.* Like a bed is the life of leisure
and repose for those who dwell in the bosom of the
Church, not burdened with any ecclesiastical responsi-
bility or distraught by solicitude for providing and
distributing, but enjoying free leisure under the rule
RB 5:10-12;see of another.* Yet not all use this leisure with an equi-
pTo^nn poise of law and liberty; but some turn the free time
they gain into an occasion for idleness. 3
2. Good is the bed if one uses it lawfully and
turns an opportunity for outward repose into the
enjoyment of inward vision. These are the ones w h o
will be taken up from this chamber of the Church to
the chamber of heaven, that where Christ is, there
also they may be with him. According t o Matthew:
'wherever the body shall be, there the eagles will
Mt 24:28. gather'.* You, too, be like the eagle and use sharp
eyes, grow accustomed to spiritual contemplation,
perch in the rocks and linger on sheer cliffs of flint, or
rather enter the caverns of that unique rock which is
Christ. 5 'Go into your rooms', as Isaiah says, 'shut
your doors, . . . hide yourselves a little while until the
Is 26:20. wrath is past'.* Or rather hide forever, that your
delight may last forever. Enter the chamber of
Ps 70:15. peace, the mighty works of the Lord,* for peace
Ps 121:7. exists in his might.* Be mindful 'of his justice
Ps 70:16. alone',* that 'peace and justice' may meet together in
Ps 84:11. you.* Be mindful 'of his justice alone', 'for what do
1 Co 4:7. you have that you have not received'?* 'His justice
alone.' Good is the justice which you defend by
combat against the vices tilting against you. More
blessed is justice when you do not battle for it but
rather take delight in it, when you are intent not on
combat but on delight, when you are not wrestling
with vices but embracing virtue. If you are clinging
to virtue, you are not battling vice. When you forget
the past, you do not 'think the thoughts' of men but
those of God and you are mindful 'of his justice
alone', since 'justice and peace have kissed each
Ps 84:11. other' within you.* For 'the kingdom of God is
Rm 14:17. justice and peace and joy'.* If such is the kingdom,
 Sermon Twelve 151

why not also the house and the chamber? Indeed

'his place is in peace and his dwelling in Sion'.* Ps 75:3.
Enter the chamber of peace, of this outward peace
yes, but even more of that inner peace, the dwelling
of contemplation, for Sion means contemplation. 'In
peace in the self-same, I will sleep and take my
rest.'* Interpret this 'self-same't as contemplation, *Ps4:9.
for this is the best role, which will not be taken t'd'Psum
away. The bride in the Canticle also fell asleep with
her Beloved in the chamber of her mother and
experienced some transport of a mind slumbering in
the embrace of the Bridegroom. Hence follows the
verse: 'I adjure you . . . ' and so forth.* Sg 3:5.
3. If you also have taken hold of the Bridegroom,
then hold him fast and do not release him until you
introduce him into the house and the chamber of
your mother. Why do I now urge you towards that to
which your own experience of past sweetness invites
and allures you more cogently? If anyone in a holi-
day" spirit has, secretly and as if in rapture, been
enabled to foretaste the festive joys of unimpeded
meditation, I do not know whether such a one will
ever do anything more readily than surrender and
become wholly and entirely free for this pursuit. 6
In our text, the first charms of fair contemplation
allured and enticed the bride into the chamber of
repose, where she exults in happiness at the prospect
of introducing her Beloved. 'I will not let him go,
until I bring him in.' Does she not seem to you to
echo in her words those of the psalm: 'I will give my
eyes no sleep, my eyelids no slumber . . . until I find
a place for the Lord'?* All else I abandon, lest I Ps 131:4-5.
abandon him. I count everything as loss 'to gain
Christ',* because of the surpassing joy of his Ph 3:8.
presence. 'If two sleep together they will keep each
other warm, but how shall one keep warm alone?'* Qo4:ll.
This verse is in Ecclesiastes. Good it is to be kept
warm and inflamed in the embrace of the Word,
for the Word of the Lord is a blazing fire;* and good Ps 118:140.
it is to burn with spiritual desires. Therefore 'I will
give my eyes no sleep, my eyelids no slumber', 'until
I bring him into my mother's chamber'.
152 Gilbert of Hoyland

Ph 3:24. Then 1 shall rest and my sleep will be sweet.*

John slept, as it were, reclining upon the breast of
Jesus, where are stored 'all the treasures of the
wisdom and knowledge' of God. 7 There is the place
of true repose, the calm of understanding, the
sanctuary of piety, the chamber of delight. Sleep
here that you may see what John saw, the Word in the
beginning, the Word with God and the Word who
Jnl:l. was God,* and may understand in Christ coeternity
with the Father, distinction of person and unity in
nature. What seems to you more like sleep? Here
human gaze cannot penetrate, human reason cannot
intrude. According to Scripture, man shall not see
Ex 33:20. these realities and live.* It is good then that you
should fell asleep and be lulled to forgetfulness of
human feelings and affections, that you be enabled
to dream such dreams. This is the chamber of the
apostles who begot us in Christ. Paul is like a mother
when he says: 'My little children, with whom I am
in labor until Christ be formed in you'. 8 The
'mother' then you know; would you know the
'chamber' also? 'Our homeland is in heaven', says
Ph 3:20. Paul.* Would you know 'sleep' too? 'If we were out
2 Co 5:13. of our mind, it was for God.'*
4. Make your way hither then with the Beloved,
remain here, ponder on these truths, dwell upon
them. Of if you cannot advance so far, act more
modestly. If you cannot recline on his breast where
the well of unwearied wisdom exists, rest between his
shoulders where you may contemplate the examples
and the mysteries of his suffering. Between his
shoulders, because 'dominion has been laid on his
Is 9:6. shoulders'.* Of Benjamin also it was said that 'the
most beloved of the Lord . . . will rest between his
shoulders'. Jesus did indeed rest and fall asleep on
the cross, that you might sleep with him in your
belief and remembrance of his Passion. Or by pre-
ference pass from one to the other, from his breast to
his shoulders, from the mysteries of faith to the mani-
festation of truth. In the one build a home for your-
self, in the other a chamber. 'The most beloved of the
Lord', Benjamin, 'will tarry all day as if in his
 Sermon Twelve 153

chamber and rest between his shoulders.'* Dt 33:12.

Do you see how he places his chamber between
his shoulders? What then will be upon his breast?
Upon both clearly is the place of fair contemplation,
both between his shoulders and between his breasts.
But there is more fruitful grace upon his breast: the
place of love, the throne of thought, the chance of
embrace and the freedom to behold his countenance.
Well placed then in the breast of Jesus is the' bridal
chamber, indeed his treasury. There indeed are both
the delights of the Bridegroom and the wealth of the
Word, for in him 'have been hidden all the treasures
of the wisdom and knowledge' of God.* Enter into Col. 2:3.
this treasury, hide yourself in the secret of his
countenance from the turmoil of men,* and let no Ps 30:21.
one arouse or waken you until you yourself are
willing.* This also is implied in the following adjura- Sg3:5.
tion of the Bridegroom, Christ Jesus who lives and
reigns for ever and ever. Amen.
 NOTES TO SERMON TWELVE

1. In the Codex Vallis-Clarae and in Flor., sermons eleven and twelve are
continuous, both addressed to one individual. The 'Amen' which ended the
quotation from Is 21:5, was taken to be the end of a sermon; see S 11, n. 9.
2. Cited by Leclercq, Otia Monastica, 93:50.
3. Reading torporis for temporis, with Mab. and Flor. See Lam, p. 20, n.
87.
5. 1 Co 10:4; J b 28:27-30. Morson, p. 160;White, p. 105-7.
6. Miquel, p. 151, n. 3; Lam, p. 185, n. 98.
7. Col 2:3. See Leclercq, Otia Monastica, 121:34,
8. Ga 4:19. See the prayer of St Anselm (1033-1109) to St Paul and to
the Lord Jesus, as Mothers, in Prayers and Meditations of Saint Anselm, trans, by
Benedicta Ward, SLG with foreword by R. W. Southern, (Harmondsworth:
Penguin, 1973) pp. 141-156. See also Andre Cabussut, 'Une devotion peu
connue', RAM 25 (1949) 234-45.

154
 SERMON 13,
STEADFASTNESS WITH CHRIST IN CRISES

Bound by charity, the bride endures the lash

and the crises. 1. We should not fear his
desertion but our defection. 2. The early
Church weathered the assault of the Synagogue;
3. tind the attacks of persecutors; 4. until after
heresies, she brought Christ from the field of
battle into the chamber of peace. 5. The truth
of faith and the freedom of witness may be
lost by lack of love. 6. The present persecution
in the Church is an attack on morality. 7. Faith
dies in the Church and in the individual without
works of charity.

I HAVE TAKEN HOLD OF HIM AND I WILL NOT

LET HIM GO UNTIL I BRING HIM INTO MY
MOTHER'S HOUSE, INTO THE CHAMBER OF
HER WHO CONCEIVED ME.* 1 Sg3:4.

D
iscussion of this verse still engages us: 'I
have taken hold of him and I will not let
him go'. Should such anxious care be
exercised that your Beloved, once caught,
be detained? If he is a Bridegroom he will return love
for love. Does he not cling to you of his own accord?
Is he not b o u n d fast of his own volition? The impatient
jealousy of lovers makes them rudely intrude even
when rebuffed and bitter rivalry cures t h e m of shy-
ness.* But n o w you say: 'I will not let him go', as if Sg8:6.
he would seek t o escape were he not tenaciously
restrained. If he loves, h o w will he want t o escape or
155
156 Gilbert of Hoyland

consent t o be torn away? Or are you moved perhaps

by a lover's suspicions and a superfluous fear of
losing him, thanks t o your great desire t o retain him?
Well, fear is not superfluous where the issue is d o u b t -
ful. Amid perils, dread is not superfluous. But you
should dread rather your own fickleness. He is God
and is not changeable. The fickleness inborn in you is
close to a fall and through the unsteady emotion of a
distracted mind you are most easily swept away if
you d o not cling fast.
2. N o w let us apply these words t o the early
Church. Indeed they seem to belong t o her, as, with
the boldness of the prophets, she defended for her-
self the rights of faith and charity against the assaults
of persecution. Consider how many a t t e m p t e d t o
dissolve or defile this spiritual marriage of Christ and
the Church. Contemplate also the beginnings of the
infant Church, 2 when like a new bride she was
hastening to Christ's first embraces. What fury, what
fraud, O good Jesus, did she endure in those days!
1 Co 11:19. Fitting indeed it was that heresies exist,* that there
2 Tm 3:12. be persecutions,* in order that she might cling t o her
Beloved the more tenaciously, the more violently she
saw herself torn f r o m faith in him or witness t o him.
'Who shall separate us', said Paul on behalf of the
Rm 8:35. whole Church, ' f r o m the love of Christ?'* But in
those days the t r u t h of faith was not corrupted
nor the freedom of witness strangled. 'For Sion's
sake', says Isaiah, 'I will not be silent and for the sake
Is 62:1. of Jerusalem I will n o t be quiet'.* The disciples, after
being scourged in the Synagogue, were ordered t o
keep silent. Yet for Sion's sake they do not keep
silent and for the sake of that carnal Jerusalem they
Ac 5:40-42. do not rest.*
Truly the Synagogue is carnal, for she extinguished
the life-giving Spirit in herself and tries t o snuff it out
in the Church. She did not see fit t o acknowledge the
trut 1 a o u t
Bernard SC62- ' ^ Christ. Therefore she was abandoned t o a
3; SBOp 2:156, false interpretation.* She disapproved of the stone
13-15- once approved; she rejected the stone once
Ps 117:22. elected.* She held fast to the law b u t knew not
Christ. She 'took away the key of knowledge' b u t
 Sermon Thirteen 157

neither entered herself nor allowed others to enter.* Lk 11:52,

Why do you shut the door upon us t o whom Christ
opened it? Upon his shoulder is 'the key of the house
of David' which he opens and no one closes, closes is 22-22- Rv 3-12
and no one opens.* He opened to the Gentiles and Antiphon of Ves-
closed to the Jews. For 'blindness has fallen on Israel Pers> 20 December

in part', that 'the fullness of the Gentiles might

enter'.* Blind is Judaea and, behind the veil of the Rm 11:25.
letter, she knows not how t o find the door.
The Synagogue proclaims the veil of the letter but
disclaims the truth, neither explaining nor distinguish-
ing correctly. She would distinguish correctly, if she
distinguished the observance of the letter from its
meaning, if she allotted one time for the antiquity
of the letter and another for the freshness of its mean-
ing. For there is a time to mend and a time to rend.* Qo 3:7.
Simultaneously was the letter proclaimed and the
meaning foretold. But in the letter is the image, and
beneath the images is the meaning. The Church now
distinguishes the meaning and rends what was sewn
together; but if on occasion the Synagogue knows the
literal meaning according to the flesh, she no longer
knows him whom, as it were, she cradled in swad-
dling clothes but rejected when his identity was
disclosed.
3. The Church says: 'I have taken hold of him and
I will not let him go'. The Synagogue rejects him, in-
deed insults him, but the Church does not shrink 'from
the voice of insult and reproach nor from the face of an
enemy or persecutor'.* In Matthew, the wicked servant Ps 43:17.
says in his heart: 'My lord delays in coming',* and Mt 24:48.
therefore he strikes the servants of his lord because they
already know and announce his coming; but 'for Sion's
sake' they do not keep silent and 'for the sake of Jeru-
salem' are not quiet.* Persecutors can scourge the Is 62:1.
body but they cannot drive Christ from the spirit.
Affection for Christ is entwined in hearts more
stoutly than the thongs of the lash. They were
scourged in the Synagogues, cast into prison, dragged
before the courts, but they rejoice in all this, because
'they have been found worthy to suffer insult for the
name of Jesus'.* Ac 5:41.
158 Gilbert of Hoyland

'I have taken hold of him and I will not let him
go'. The bride took hold because she did not fear.
She did not fear while all the earth quaked and the
greater powers of this world were changed into a
Ps45:3. heart of bitterness against her.* She was bound to
the Bridegroom with a rope which could not be
broken, the rope of charity, a rope which cannot
1 Co 13:8. fail because charity never fails.* She acted confi-
dently because she held fast in charity. For 'anyone
1 Co 6:17. who clings to God is one spirit with him'* and
2 Co 3:17. 'where the Spirit of the Lord is there is freedom'.*
Therefore she acted freely and maintained the un-
Heb 10:23. wavering witness of her hope.* In the early days,
faith seemed indeed to be sheer folly and witness a
good reason for shame. Why do I say 'shame'? It was
a matter of the utmost danger. Yet they were unable
Mt 10:28. 'to fear those who kill the body',* for the spirit of
Lm 4:20. life was before their face, Christ the Lord.* So they
more readily allowed themselves to be torn from their
flesh than from his charity. The bride reserved
nothing of herself, that she might hold him fast.
That is why she says: 'I have taken hold of him and I
will not let him go'. She did indeed cling to him
strenuously amid so many adversaries and perse-
cutors, even while the age of faith was still in
its infancy.
4. 'Until I bring him into my mother's house.'
Our faith has at last been brought into safety. There
is no one to attack it openly, but former persecutors
have become adherents and former adversaries have
become leaders. At last the faith has been brought
from the hedges into the house, from the sea into
harbor. The fury of persecuting princes has turned
into favor and heretics with their wily caviling refuted
by the clear truth of Catholic faith have fallen silent.
At last our faith, and with it Christ, has been 'rescued
from the opposition of the people'. At last he has
Ps 17:44. been 'placed at the head of the nations',* no longer
Lk 2:34. 'posted as a sign t o be contradicted'.* After the
blood and tears of so many martyrs in conflict for the
faith of Christ, after the Church withstood the vio-
lence of so many persecutors and frustrated the wiles
 Sermon Thirteen 159

of so many heretics, now that there is no longer a

stumbling-block but a joy in the Cross of Christ,* 1 Co 1:23;
Ga
and we have become not a spectacle for this world to
deride but a triumph of grace,* after she weathered 1 Co 4:9;
so many perils, does not the Church of Christ seem to C o t 2 : i 4-15.
you as it were, t o have brought her Beloved from the
field of battle and labor into the chamber of peace
and repose? 3
5. You see then, in the beginnings of the new-
born Church, the care needed lest her Beloved, so
long desired and at last embraced, be torn from her.
So what will happen from now on, n o w that the
Beloved has been brought into safety by faith and, as
it were, into the bridal chamber? Hereafter will there
be room for sloth and shall we bid farewell to
diligence? Shall he be imperilled in the calm, who
could not be in the storm? Or is he not in peril, who
is at death's door? 'Faith without works is dead.'* Jm 2:20.
The apostle commends faith but the faith 'which
works through love'.* Where there is the labor of Ga 5:6.
love or the love of labor, there is the life of faith.
What if, while truth is present in one's belief and
freedom in its witness, life is absent through the
absence of love? Then the cord is not of three strands
and it is easily broken.* Scripturally, that freedom is Qo 4:12.
illusory which does not spring from the root of
charity and such witness does not so much rely on its
own freedom as depend upon another's tolerance.
Such witness is precarious, not its own master. It
waits upon the favor of princes; it does not proceed
from the warmth of faith. By the warmth of charity
faith is stirred to life. Clearly faith is slothful in a
threatening crisis, if it does not assert its freedom of
witness prompted by love. Otherwise witness dies on
the lips of the dead, as if he did not exist.
Without charity then, faith is dead and witness is
vain. The apostle says that 'Christ dwells by faith in
our hearts'.* Surely not by faith which is dead! If Ep 3:17.
inside is truth and outside life, then Christ is divided,
for he is truth and life.* You have not yet fully Jo 14:6.
introduced your Beloved, when he is half outside.
What if you failed t o introduce your Beloved? For
160 Gilbert of Hoyland

how is he your Beloved, if charity is not joined to

faith? 'Christ risen from the dead dies now no
Rm 6:9. more',* but to himself he dies no more. Take care
lest he die to you, or rather lest you die to him.
Again, what love can exist in or be shown to the
dead? On what grounds then will he be called
Beloved, where no love exists? If Christ dwells in
Ep 3:1 7. your heart by faith* but dwells outside for lack of
love, I fear—or rather it is certain—that in you he is
either half alive or wholly dead. 'I live', says Paul,
Ga 2:20. 'no longer I, but Christ lives in me.'*
6. You can also make these words your own,
provided you also can say with Paul: 'The charity of
God has been poured into our hearts through the
Rm 5:5. Holy Spirit who has been given to us'.* But in some
this Christ-life is full of labor, in others full of free-
dom, but in a few spiritual persons it is alive with
delights. Yet if until now you have wholly sur-
rendered to the dominion of the flesh, if a ready
and familiar access to the recesses of your heart lies
open for the princes of darkness, and if you have
prostituted your soul to unclean lovers, what cove-
nant will you have with Christ about Belial, what
2 Co 6:15. fellowship with light about darkness?* If, however,
for the love of Christ you have declared war on vice
and the prompter of vice, then indeed you have
taken hold of your Beloved but your ship is not yet
at anchor. You are still buffeted and do not enjoy
the calm of the bridal chamber. Your faith is in
harbor, but you must still either disperse or flee
before the gusts of bad habit and the clouds of
emerging or frequent temptations.
Hold him fast in crises, lest your Beloved escape
you before you 'bring him into your mother's house,
into the chamber of her who conceived you'. Hold
him fast with might and main, lest he elude you more
quickly for [your] relaxing caution and care. Hold
him fast by faith and by your vocation. Hold him fast
by your behavior and b y your way of life, and do not
release him. The struggle from now on is not for the
truth of the faith; the fires of the present spiritual
battle rage unabated against good morals and an
 Sermon Thirteen 161

upright life. Perilous times threaten us in these last

days, when men are 'lovers of self, covetous,
haughty'*, inventors and indeed abettors of evil. At 2 Tm 3:1-2;
Rm 1:30;
the birth of the Christian faith a vast persecution of 2 M 1:1.
this name broke out. Today a plague of immorality,
fetid enough and growing relentlessly, spreads its foul
breath. Bad example surely corrupts good morals.* 1 Co 15:33.
Attract us, good Jesus, with the fragrance of your
ointments, lest an infectious blast rise in our vicinity
to spoil the salt of wisdom within us. 'Let your
speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt', says
Paul.* Is it only speech and not rather sight, hearing, Col 4:6.
gait—in a word the whole of our outward deport-
ment which must be seasoned with salt? 'Try to
please all men in everything, just as I do', says Paul.* 1 Co 10:33.
But if the princes of the Church lose their savor with
what will the people be seasoned? 4
7. We brothers, who make profession of religious
life, ought also to be the salt of the earth. If then in
us also 'the salt becomes tasteless, with what will it be
salted'?* The priest also has become like the people, Mt 5:13.
that the people with greater abandon may become
like the priest. Monks assiduously conform them-
selves to the world and those in the world astutely
enough and quite literally have a pretext for their
error in our example. Shepherds and people, secu-
lars and religious, by mutual example either instruct
or encourage one another in vice. Their maws are
stuffed with vice, belching from one to another the
pestilential breath of a behavior that is either foul or
lukewarm. Alas, how avidly the lips of our heart
draw in this foul breath and breathe this corrupting
air! This plague on all sides flows in through our
windows.* Jr 9:21.
Good Jesus, when, if ever, will morals be as blame-
less as faith is incorrupt? When will it come about
that as peace coexists with truth, so there may be no
battle for virtue? When shall we embrace the whole of
you, and by choice, in the chamber of contemplation
and repose? 5 Few exist in the Church who have
reached this state, yet for their part they declare: 'I
have taken hold of him and I will not let him go
162 Gilbert of Hoyland

until I bring him into my mother's house, into the

chamber of her who conceived me.' Not the entire
person of the Church, yet a large part is such that she
can utter these words: 'I have taken hold of him and
I will not let him go until I bring him into my
mother's house, into the chamber of her who con-
ceived me'. Faith is more abundant but works of
charity are limited.
Is this distinction to be observed in the whole
body of believers and not also in each one of us? For
who will be found, whose fullness of devout affec-
tion consistently matches the fullness of his real and
unquestioned faith? Great indeed is he—if there be
such a one—who as he never falters in faith, so is not
troubled by any passions in his spirit. Such a person,
I would say, has indeed entered into the secrets of the
chamber. A good chamber is tranquillity of heart.
With some persons, wisdom is in labor, but with the
humble and tranquil the Spirit of the Lord reposes
Ps 75:3. and 'his place is in peace'.* But here let our sermon
repose for a while, or rather may our understanding
rest in this secret of the chamber, that what ex-
perience shall have taught may return more clearly
in the next sermon, b y the gift of our Lord Jesus
Christ, who with the Father and the holy Spirit
lives and reigns, God for ever and ever. Amen.
 NOTES TO SERMON THIRTEEN

1. The s e r m o n addresses one individual, as Miquel notes in Citeaux 27

(1965) 1 5 1 , in a citation f r o m par. 6; et nos fratres, of paragraph 7, is only an
apparent e x c e p t i o n , for the sentence refers t o Gilbert and his reader.
2. Reading lactentis Ecclesiae for latentis Ecclesiae.
3. Leclercq, Otia Monastica, 1 0 6 : 2 0 .
4. R e a d i n g s a l i e n t u r rather than salient.
5. Leclercq, Otia Monastica, 119:22.

163
 SERMON 14,
THE VIGIL IN SLEEP

She sleeps but her heart leaps to her Beloved.

1. The bride should not be wakened from sleep
with her Beloved. 2. Gazelles and hinds mean
alacrity of mind and nimhleness of spirit.
3. Hinds mean longevity and gazelles keenness
of vision. 4. The restless disturb the quiet of
spiritual persons. 5. Contemplation elicits com-
passion,, and transport of mind makes one
considerate of the weak. 6. The more freedom
the bride has for leisure and contemplation, the
more fruit she will bring back to her handmaids.
7. Daughters of Babylon are subjects who
trouble superiors by grumbling; 8. they arrogate
to themselves the judgement of God.

I ADJURE YOU, DAUGHTERS OF JERUSALEM,

BY THE GAZELLES AND THE HINDS OF THE
FIELDS, THAT YOU DO NOT AROUSE OR
A W A K E N T H E B E L O V E D U N T I L SHE HERSELF
PLEASES*1

O
bviously, since such an adjuration is
made on her behalf, the bride has fallen
asleep. Why should she not sleep with
her Beloved on entering her mother's
chamber, the retreat of delights? She sleeps when she
experiences a transport of mind at the approach of
her Beloved. 'I adjure you', he says, 'not to arouse
the beloved'. Blessed obviously is she who is allowed
to hold her Beloved and is not obliged to release
165
 166 Gilbert of Hoyland

him. Hold fast what you hold, hold and touch

lingeringly a n d lovingly t h e w o r d o f life. U n r o l l t h e
t h e scroll of life, t h e scroll w h i c h J e s u s u n r o l l s or,
r a t h e r , w h i c h is J e s u s . Wrap y o u r s e l f in h i m , w r a p
y o u r s e l f in t h a t f i n e linen in w h i c h h e w a s w r a p p e d ,
Mk 15:46; f o r h e was c l o t h e d in light as in a g a r m e n t . * P u t o n
P
f Rm°i3^4 y°ur Be
l°ve(l> o u r
Lord Jesus Christ.t Carve out
Is 22-16-Mt 27- lovingly f o r y o u r s e l f a r o o m in t h e r o c k , a n e w t o m b
60; Lk 23:53. 'in w h i c h n o o n e has as y e t b e e n l a i d ' . *
1 Co 10:4. Christ is i n d e e d t h e r o c k . * N e w t h i n g s c a n a l w a y s
b e d i s c o v e r e d in C h r i s t . I n t o t h e n e w , o n e m a y p e n e -
t r a t e . In h i m a r e m a n y r e t r e a t s , c o u n t l e s s t r e a s u r e s of
Col 2:3. w i s d o m . * H e is n o t e x h a u s t e d in o n e s h e a r i n g of his
fleece; h e can b e s h o r n very o f t e n . M y s t i c a l senses,
sacred affections are g o o d fleeces. In s u c h Jesus
abounds; he cannot be left naked and despoiled.
'I shall r e j o i c e ' , says t h e psalmist, 'over y o u r w o r d s as
Ps 118:162. o n e w h o h a s f o u n d much spoil'.* C l o t h e y o u r s e l f in
this spoil, w r a p y o u r s e l f in these fleeces, that your
Jb 31:20. sides, as it is w r i t t e n , m a y g r o w w a r m , * f o r his w o r d
is a f l a m e . * H e r e i n r e p o s e , 2 t h a t y o u r sleep m a y b e
Pr 3:24. s w e e t , as S o l o m o n says.* In o u r t e x t , t h e B r i d e g r o o m
also g u a r d s a n d c h e r i s h e s this sleep o f his b e l o v e d ,
f o r b i d d i n g t h a t she b e a w a k e n e d . 'I a d j u r e y o u ' , h e
says, 'by t h e gazelles a n d t h e h i n d s o f t h e f i e l d . '
Clearly this is a novel a d j u r a t i o n , n o t m o r e w o n d e r f u l
in its verbal f o r m t h a n in t h e d e p t h of its m y s t e r y .
2. W h e n I e n q u i r e w h a t m y s t e r y lies w r a p p e d in
these a n i m a l s . I u n d e r s t a n d t h a t t h e y t y p i f y s o m e
a l a c r i t y o f a f r e e m i n d a n d t h e n i m b l e n e s s of a spirit
w h i c h , s o t o s p e a k , b y leaps a n d b o u n d s t r a n s p o r t s
itself t o higher levels. D o s o m e p e r s o n s n o t s e e m t o
y o u like gazelles a n d h i n d s w h o , t h o u g h d w e l l i n g in
t h e b o d y , n o n e t h e l e s s have l e a p t over t h e o b s t a c l e s
of t h e b o d y a n d in lightness of spirit feel a l m o s t n o
w e i g h t o f t h e flesh a n d , t h a n k s t o t h e i r m i n d s , a r e
u n a w a r e of this mass o f e a r t h l y clay? Walking in t h e
Ga 5:16. spirit t h e y n o l o n g e r feel t h e desires of t h e f l e s h , * or
if t h e y feel t h e s e desires, feel t h e m o n l y l a n g u i s h i n g
and, as it were, gasping and drawing their last
b r e a t h . T o s u c h p e r s o n s Paul says: ' Y o u a r e n o t in t h e
Rm 8:9. flesh b u t in t h e s p i r i t ' . * Again he says:. ' E v e n if w e
 Sermon Fourteen 167

have known Christ in the flesh, we no longer know

him so'.* Now he has become wholly spiritual, now 2 Co 5:16.
he has betaken himself to the solitudes of heaven,
now he has ascended to higher levels. Therefore the
Church says: 'My Beloved is like a gazelle and a fawn
of hinds . . . upon the hills of Bether'.* Sg 2:9, 17.
To these hills Paul invites you when he says: 'If
you have risen with Christ, seek the things which are
above'.* Paul would have you resemble a spiritual Col 3:1,
gazelle as he summons you to those heavenly hills,
for he clothes you as the image of that unique young
hind. 'As we have borne the likeness of the earthly
one, let us bear also the likeness of the one from
heaven.'* Paul himself is a good hind when he says: 1 Co 15:49.
'Our homeland is in heaven';* obviously he is a good Ph3:20.
hind, fed and guided by the Spirit of the Lord, for the
Spirit of the Lord is nimble and agile.* Good are the Ws 1:22.
hinds whom the voice of the Lord trains, to whom he
reveals the lair of his mysteries,* the lair in which Ps 28:9.
that blessed young hind lies concealed. Good surely
is the gazelle, which can respond with mettlesome
and unflagging devotion of spirit to everything pro-
posed or imposed: 'My heart is ready, O God, my
heart is ready'; forgetting what lies behind, it bounds
to what lies ahead.* ps 56:S;Ph 3:13.
3. You have heard the common traits of these
animals; now hear what is proper to each, that we
may draw some distinction between them and that
our treatment of each may not be confused and
indistinct. In hinds, notice their longevity and, in
gazelles, their keenness of vision. Hinds are said to
preserve themselves from old age by a natural ability
and by a vivifying renewal to summon from dissolu-
tion a life in decline, Christ in a special way is
described not as a hind but as a young hind; he relies
on eternal youth and has no ingredient of age which
might later require renewal. In a unique way he is a
gazelle in his privileged vision. According to Matthew,
no one knows the Father but the Son and one to
whom he chooses to reveal him.* Everything is naked Mt 11:27.
and open to his eyes. Consequently they also are
likened to spiritual gazelles who have the eyes of
168 Gilbert of Hoyland

Ep 1:17. their mind unveiled by recognizing God;* who, once

having become spiritual, distinguish and discern all
things; who with faces uncovered contemplate the
2 Co 3:18. glory of the Lord.* However, they are hinds because
they are transformed into the same image from
2 Co 3:18. splendor to splendor, as if by the Spirit of the Lord;*
because they slough off the old man and don the new
who 'was created in the justice and holiness of
Ep 4:22-24. truth';* because they again restore to new fervor a
devotion beginning to dodder and languish from
tedium and because they know nothing of the ennui
of perseverance, thanks to frequent renewal.
'They who trust in the Lord', says Isaiah, 'will re-
new their strength', not to lose the old but t o add
new strength. They will renew their strength b y fre-
quently repeated additions. 'They will renew their
strength', he says, 'they will run and not grow weary,
Is 40:31. they will walk and not grow faint'.* This renewal
resembles a constant resumption of marches forward
without retreat or weariness. Good indeed is the
strength which, though it runs with an effort, knows
not how to turn back in defeat. Better, of course, is
the strength which without noticing the discomfort
of effort leaps over the stumbling-blocks of an am-
bush and races on flying hoofs over the open plain, as
Jeremiah says 4 'the nimble courser bolts across its
Jr 2:23. desert paths'.*
4. That is why our text speaks of hinds of the
fields, because anything rugged or steep is for them
level and open and accessible to their unimpeded
flight, like the ranges of an open plain. The voice of
the Lord is the voice of intimate inspiration flowing
gently into the ears of the mind. That is surely the
voice which trains hinds such as these and discloses
his lairs to them. For if there are any hiding places
overgrown with a thick tangle of scandals as if with
brambles, they are not impenetrable for those whose
feet the Lord makes like the hoofs of hinds, who
cannot be hindered by any harmful obstacle but
rather take pleasure in hardship and are trained
to accept wrongs or to take them in stride in their
passionate desire to hasten to the heights and
 Sermon Fourteen 169

to forge ahead.
Oh, in w h a t pitiful times we live! H o w is it t h a t
nearly all of us b o u n d away f r o m this rule t o its
opposite and c o n s t r u e as wrongs even things which
give every appearance of piety? Almost everywhere
we suffer setbacks, we stumble on level ground and
our f o o t s t e p s have been m a d e slippery in t h e streets,
as J e r e m i a h says.* We complain t h a t everything is a Lm4:18.
hindrance for us, because 'the p a t h of t h e laggard is
like a hedge of t h o r n s ' . * We rejoice over oppor- Pr 15:19.
tunities for c o m p l a i n t , we are so full of suspicion
t h a t , as it is w r i t t e n , 5 'the rustle of a falling leaf'
seems to terrify us,* and b y word and deed we try to Lv 26:36.
court t r o u b l e for our spirit. Hence t o o o f t e n we dis-
t u r b the quiet of spiritual men, i n t e r r u p t their
leisure, disturb the sleep of a mind b e n t on higher
things and wrest it f r o m the most welcome embrace
of t h e Bridegroom. 6

5. A n n o y a n c e s of this sort t h e r e f o r e , either

sought b y perversity or b r o u g h t on b y weakness, the
Bridegroom diverts f r o m his beloved; he invites t h e
daughters of J e r u s a l e m t o some spiritual alacrity. F o r
this is t h e p u r p o s e of his adjuring t h e m b y gazelles
and hinds: t o spur t h e m t o emulate spiritual men and
to refrain f r o m insistently pestering his beloved: 'I ad-
j u r e you n o t t o arouse the beloved until she herself
pleases'. It is useful for you that the beloved awaken,
b u t wait until it suits her. Let her choice be awaited,
for care of y o u pertains t o her office. She will
choose, w h e n the Spirit teaches her to choose. T h e
anointing of t h e Spirit will instruct her, for b y cling-
ing t o her Beloved she has b e c o m e one spirit with
him.* T h e r e f o r e she can say: 'The Spirit of the Lord 1 Jo 2:27;
1 Co
is u p o n me, because he has a n o i n t e d m e ' , sent me t o
proclaim good tidings.* T h e r e f o r e she will bring y o u Is 61:1.
the good tidings, w h e n f r o m t h e Spirit she has
learned the h o u r . Meanwhile in her thirst let her
drink in w h a t she m a y p o u r o u t m o r e copiously.
T h e grace of c o n t e m p l a t i o n does n o t exclude, but
elicits, compassion, and transport of mind makes one
considerate of the weak. F o r while A d a m sleeps, the
man's rib gently s o f t e n s i n t o the weaker sex and, for
170 Gilbert of Hoyland

the sake of companionship, from the side of a man

was formed a woman, or rather Adam himself is
changed into a woman companion and by a kind of
conformation becomes his own wife. Therefore when
he awakens he utters his first word, a word of charity
as he recognizes himself in his consort: 'this at last is
Gn 2:23. bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh!'* Does not
See S 20:8. p a u j s e e m t o y Q U t 0 transform his manly dignity into
the lowlier sex, when he says that he has been made
1 Co 9:22. infirm for the infirm?* Like a spiritual Adam he
becomes Eve, while the apostle's firmness com-
passionates his subjects and the loftiness of his virtue
and knowledge bends down to the capacity of the
infirm, exchanging his wine for their milk. Indeed, if
he is carried out of his mind for God, he becomes
2 Co 5:13. sober for others.* Transport of mind is a good sleep;
far from arousing pride, it teaches sobriety.
'I adjure you not to arouse the beloved until she
herself pleases', and if in the meantime she is 'carried
out of her mind for God', still she will become sober
again. If now she sleeps, she will awaken again and
pour out for you in due measure the wine she dis-
covers. She knows when to 'provide rations for her
Pr 31:15. household and food for her handmaids'.* How will
Is 49:15. she not pity the daughters of her womb,* when she
does not overlook her handmaids? Yet good daugh-
ters count themselves handmaids and ignore their
native liberty while they recall that they were set
free by the spirit of truth. For they are truly free
who are set free by truth, and therefore they ignore
any other liberty, because they rejoice that they were
liberated by adoption. According to Scripture, the
more gratuitous is adoption, the more devout is
self-effacement. The same persons then are hand-
maids and daughters, for where there is greater
honour in adoption, there devotedness in submission
is more justified.
6. 'Do not arouse her until she herself pleases.'
She knows when to 'provide rations for her house-
Pr 31:15. hold and food for her handmaids'.* One need not
fear her likeness to the daughter of Lamentations:
'The daughter of my people has grown cruel, like an
 Sermon Fourteen 171

ostrich in the d e s e r t ' . * A n ostrich has the semblance Lm 4:3.

o f w i n g s but in f a c t is unable t o f l y . It k n o w s not h o w
t o fly b y a transport o f m i n d ; 7 t h e r e f o r e it does n o t
visit its o w n image b u t 'abandons its eggs o n the
g r o u n d . . . . It f o r g e t s that a f o o t m a y trample t h e m
or a w i l d beast crush t h e m ' . * A n ostrich does n o t Jb 39:14-15.
k n o w h o w t o soar t o the slumber o f c o n t e m p l a t i o n
and therefore does not c l o t h e itself in feelings of
compassion. But the falling asleep o f a mother in
transport o f m i n d is in the interest o f her daughters
and it is w h o l l y f o r their gain that her spiritual slum-
ber is p r o l o n g e d . T h a t is w h y the B r i d e g r o o m says:
' I adjure y o u n o t t o arouse the b e l o v e d until she her-
self pleases'. G o o d is the adjuration b y w h i c h the
m o t h e r is spared and the progress o f her daughters is
sought. F o r the m o r e f r e e d o m she has f o r leisure and
c o n t e m p l a t i o n , the m o r e fruit she w i l l bring b a c k t o
her handmaids. T h e more l o f t y the heights o f her
ascent, the m o r e l o w l y her descent and the more
f r u i t f u l her c o n d e s c e n s i o n .

W h y d o y o u w a n t t o ration the times w h i c h the

B r i d e g r o o m has reserved t o the w i l l o f the b e l o v e d ?
'Do not arouse her', he says, 'until she herself
pleases'. She w i l l be pleased, w h e n the vision o f her
B e l o v e d has fled f r o m her eyes. His presence is f l e e t -
ing and vanishes suddenly. 'I b e l o n g t o m y B e l o v e d ' ,
she says, 'and his desire is f o r m e . ' * W h y try t o inter- Sg 7:10.
rupt so h o l y an e x c h a n g e b e f o r e the a l l o t e d t i m e ? * Lam, p. 188,
Blessed is this converse but b r i e f is its hour. B r i e f
enough is the h o u r ; w h y desire t o shorten it further?
Nothing should be subtracted from so brief a
m o m e n t . M e a n t i m e let her f r e e l y e n j o y the f l e e t i n g
hour. D o y o u wish t o arouse and claim f o r your-
selves her, w h o m Christ arouses and keeps a w a k e in
himself? A s the C a n t i c l e says, a l t h o u g h she is asleep,
her heart keeps vigil in Christ.* Peter and his c o m - Sg 5:2.
panions on the m o u n t a i n were o v e r c o m e w i t h sleep
and waking saw the M a j e s t y o f Jesus. T h e y were
happily overcome w i t h sleep, since in t h e m human
perception was suspended. What depended upon
themselves was o v e r p o w e r e d and suspended in t h e m ,
that b e c o m i n g blind and insensitive t o the things o f
172 Gilbert of Hoyland

the world b u t aroused by the divine spirit, they might

be awake to recognize only the things of God.
Lk 9:32. 'Awaking', says Luke, 'they saw his Majesty'.*
Happily then does he keep vigil, who sees such
visions, who sees the glory of the Only-begotten of
the Father, who hears hidden words which man has
no license to speak. Mysteries may not be spoken to
one in whom the Son of God has not yet risen. 'See
that you tell no one about the vision', says Matthew,
Mt 17:9. 'until the Son of Man rises from the dead'.* The
vision cannot be spoken t o one in whom Christ has
not yet risen. Again something similar was said to
Mary: 'Do not touch me, for I have not yet ascended
Jn 20:17. to the Father'.* It may not be spoken to one who is
not caught up into paradise, into the place of de-
lights, into the place of which Peter said: 'It is good
Mt 17:4. for us to be here'.* Happily is one aroused, who with
2 Co 12:4. Paul is caught up into this paradise,* who with Peter
ascends the mountain, who can watch with Christ if
Mt 26:40. only for one hour,* whom no mortal touches, that
Christ may arouse him and make him keep vigil.
Peter also he touched and therefore Peter kept vigil
and saw his Majesty. In our text, see the change in the
beloved as she rises f r o m the embrace of the Bride-
groom: 'Who is she', we read, 'who ascends . . . like a
Sg 3:6. column of smoke?'*
7. But for our part at this juncture let us now
recall our soaring sermon and keep this verse for an-
other beginning or rather for him who says of him-
self: 'I am the beginning, I who am speaking to
Jn 8:25. you'.* For us may he be both the beginning of our
sermon and the word of our heart, so that what we
intend to speak about him, he may first speak within
See T 1:1. us.* Speak, Lord, speak to me and speak for me.
Reproach for me the daughters not of Jerusalem but
of Babylon; tell the daughter of the Chaldaeans to be
Is 47:5. seated and be silent.* God of goodness, how num-
erous today are the daughters of Babylon, who know
not the canticles of Sion and thanks t o w h o m 'we
Ps 136:2. have hung up our harps'!* How numerous are the
sons of Edom who drain and exhaust our spiritual
gladness! 8
 Sermon Fourteen 173

You restrain the daughters of Jerusalem from

pestering the bride. O that you would spare me,
O Lord, from the daughters of Babylon. For the
annoyance of the malicious is different and much
more distressing than that of lovers. Yet through
some wretchedness of our times, even lovers have
become malicious. 'What havoc' a friend 'wreaks in
the sanctuary today'!* I should have said an enemy Ps 73:3.
but I have expressed what causes greater grief. Our
very friends have become enemies, friends by profes-
sion but enemies by disaffection, friends in ap-
pearance who disown the virtue of friendship. Absa-
lom was a friend because he was a son; but 'what
havoc' that criminal 'wrought in the sanctuary', that
son upon his father, Absalom upon David! Absalom
means 'his father's peace'. A good name, indeed, but
he betrayed the excellence of his name. He coveted
the kingdom; he defiled the bedchamber. Yet happy
was David, for among so many sons only one rose to
persecute him.
Among our teachers today, please name me one
against whom only one Absalom sets a trap. Are not
those men like so many Absaloms who, as Micah says,
'cry "peace" as long as they have food for their
teeth'?* They covet their father's place, they defile Mi 3:5,
his bedroom, while they corrupt their fellows with
wicked whisperings; they pervert the hearts of the
innocent, in which their father's spirit found pleasant
repose. That man is an Absalom by imitation who
usurps the place of his master and calumniates his
life; he cries 'peace' and gnaws with his teeth. A
poisonous gnawing is backbiting, a poisonous food of
which J o b says: 'Evil is sweet in his mouth and
he hides it beneath his tongue'.* He hides it until in Jb 20:12.
due course he may vomit forth the poison accumu-
lated.
'What havoc' a friend 'wreaks in the sanctuary!'
What his eye does not see his suspicion invents.
'They have set u p their own signs as emblems and
they have not understood'.* They set up what they Ps 13:4-5.
do not discover; they set up what they later explain
in a perverted sense. 'Their own signs', says the
174 Gilbert of Hoyland

Psalm, for they set themselves up as signs, when they

measure others by the rule of their own perversion.
'Signs', says the Psalm, as if t o say: only emblems but
not reality, signs not of certainty but of suspicion.
'And they have not understood', for they rely not on
knowledge but on conjecture. 'The enemy wreaks
Ps 73:3. havoc in the sanctuary'.* In what sanctuary? In the
Holy of Holies, in that Holy One who says: 'He who
Lk 10:16. rejects you, rejects me'.* It is rash, as Paul says, to
Rm 14:4. judge another's servant.* Who, then, are you to
judge your own Lord? For he who questions
Rm 13:2. authority, questions the ordinance of God.*
8. Again God complains: 'Men have robbed me
Ezk 5:6. of my judgement'.* 'Sons of men . . . why d o you
Ps 4:3. love vanity and seek falsehood?'* You do indeed
covet the vanity of preferment and therefore in your
prelates you look for the falsehood of your evil
suspicions. For 'the sons of men are vain . . . false in
Ps 61:10. the scales',* false in their judgements. And would
that it were of but slight import for me to be judged
by men's light, while I await the judgement of the
1 Co 4:3-5. eternal Day!* 'When I seize the appointed time', says
Ps 74:3. the psalmist, 'I will dispense strict justice'.* The just
Judge himself says that he awaits the time t o dis-
pense strict justice, and do you arrogate to yourself
1 Co 4:5. the verdict before the time?* The Father has 'en-
Jo 5:22. trusted all judgement to the Son',* and do you arro-
gate t o yourself a judgement which you have not
received, and that against your father? Beware lest
perhaps your judgement be against that Father from
whom 'all fatherhood in heaven and on earth takes
Ep 3:15. its name'.*
A race of vipers devours its mother and with
poisoned t o o t h gnaws at the life of its teacher. 9
These are not daughters of Jerusalem, daughters of
peace, but the daughters of Babylon. When will you
rebuke them and tell them: 'Daughters' of Babylon,
Lk 23:28. 'do not weep over me but over yourselves'?* For the
taunts against those who stand in your place redound
upon you and their grumbling is not against us b u t
^Miquel'pVs against the Lord. Spare your grumbling then, which
n. 63. does you no good and harms others.* Do you, O
 Sermon Fourteen 175

Lord, rather stop 'the mouths of those who speak

evil' and 'do not silence those who sing your
praises'.* But why do I linger any longer now over Ps 62:12;
E
these complaints? It is not my purpose at present to *t 13.17
weep for our woes but to sing the praise of others.
Let it suffice to have lamented our plight in brief. At
last I return from lamentations to lauds, deriving
spirit, eloquence and leisure from him who keeps
the restless away from the sleep of his Bride, Christ
Jesus who reigns with the Father and the Holy
Spirit for ever and ever. Amen.
 NOTES TO SERMON FOURTEEN

1. This s e r m o n addresses one individual t h r o u g h o u t .

2. See Leclercq, Otia Monastica, 117:15.
3. For caprea and cervus, see Morson, pp. 161-2, 164, a n d White,
pp. 4 2 , 37-40.
4. G. ignores the c o n t e x t which refers to a she-camel, a n d t o a wild ass
(v. 24). See White, pp. 79-83, Lam pp. 198-9, nn. 184, 191.
5. See H o r a c e , Carmina, 1 : 2 3 , on the trembling fawn, hinnuleus.
6. Cited b y Leclercq, Otia Monastica, 9 7 : 7 3 .
7. See G. Ep 3 : 2 , Morson, pp. 158-9, White, 121-2. G . does n o t 'directly
c o n t r a d i c t J b 3 9 : 1 8 ' , (Morson). T h e speed of the ostrich, a t t r i b u t a b l e in part t o its
wings, allows it t o o u t r u n the horse and its rider, b u t need n o t m e a n t h a t t h e
ostrich soars.
8. 'The E d o m i t e s are charged with excessive glee at t h e fall of J e r u s a l e m
in 587, with c o u n t e r - i m p r e c a t i o n s b y Ps 1 3 7 : 7 ; Ob 10-12 (cf. 2 K 2 5 : 8 - 1 2 ) ' ,
Jerome Biblical Commentary, p. 2 1 7 , article by Ignatius H u n t OSB.
9. Mt 3 : 7 , Ws 1 6 : 1 0 ; see Morson, p. 1 6 0 ; White, p. 1 7 0 ; Aeschylus,
Choephori, lines 540-50.

176
 SERMON 15,
ENAMORED, HUMBLED AND RENEWED

Close to Christ, the bride is enamored,

humbled, renewed in all virtues. 1. She is
renewed in Christ by prayer and meditation,
as gold in the forge. 2. She knows that the
world is a desert but that Christ is a fertile
field. 3. A good desert is the heart barren of
vices, the soul and the body without the weeds
of vices; a good desert is the ivomb of vir-
ginity watered with streams from Lebanon,
bearing the fruit of Christ, who is called the
wind for he dries up the waters of vice and
sends apostles and saints on their way. 4. Pass-
ing fervor is compared to a column of smoke.
5. May our vices be consumed and our virtues
rarified in the fire of Christ. 6. Myrrh, incense,
and perfumer's powder are explained, and
three types of prayer distinguished. 7. Per-
fumer's powder is a symbol of humility;
humility of vanity is distinguished from humil-
ity of reality. 8. Suffering and contradiction
are a stimulus to humility. 9. The dust of
humility yields to the fire of charity.

WHO IS SHE WHO ASCENDS THROUGH THE

DESERT LIKE A COLUMN OF SMOKE FROM
SPICES OF MYRRH AND INCENSE AND ALL
T H E POWDERS OF THE P E R F U M E R ? * 1 Ss3:6.

177
 w
178 Gilbert of Hoyland

ho is she who ascends through the

desert like a column of smoke from
spices?' See, brothers, as indeed you
do see, how effective for the increase
of grace is tranquillity of mind. See what kind of
fruit Christ's beloved reaps from interior, repose. 2
See her appearance, I say, as she emerges from the
embrace of her Bridegroom. But do not ask me about
her appearance as she emerges; consult rather the
companions of the Bridegroom. What if even in their
eyes she emerges from the hidden embrace of her
Beloved in a new and unfamiliar appearance? It is
obviously new, for the novelty arouses their won-
der: 'Who is she who ascends?' Notice her progress.
In previous verses she accosts the watchman and asks
about their vision of her Beloved. Here she emerges, a
marvel to the watchmen and with a new look. Why
should she not emerge renewed from the breast of
her Beloved? For it is he who says of himself:
Rv 21:5. 'Behold, I make all things new'.*
Even new things he renews. Picture him as a forge;
surrender your gold. If the gold is pure, he returns it
more refined and the red hot metal reflects a bright-
ness still fresh from the forge. Is Christ hot a forge?
Ps 118:140. 'Your word', says the psalmist, 'is a raging fire'.*
What has become molten in this forge can emerge
only as a new and a different creature in Christ.
While he prayed, as Luke says, his own appearance
Lk 9:29. changed;* but even while you pray, for your sake his
own appearance is changed! For remaining one in
himself, he renews all other things. The bodily
appearance of the Lord was changed as he prayed
and thereby he wished to bring home to your mind
the power of prayer, because prayer makes you dif-
ferent in your inmost being and meditation changes
you into a new self and renews you. 'With our
unveiled faces reflecting like mirrors the brightness of
the Lord', says Paul, 'we are turned into the image
2 Co 3:18. which we reflect',* that is, we are transformed into
the very image we gaze upon.
2. Perhaps the bride also emerged from the
sanctuary of contemplation robed in the ipiage of
 Sermon Fifteen 179

the Bridegroom u p o n which she was gazing. She is

obviously new. F o r the w o n d e r of his c o m p a n i o n s
over her witnesses t o her newness. 'Who is she w h o
ascends?'—as if one should say: she has changed
since yesterday and the day b e f o r e . She n o longer
makes her r o u n d s of the city, she does n o t scurry
t h r o u g h the streets and squares and past t h e watch-
m e n . She does n o t stray aimlessly b u t ascends in a
direct r o u t e . What is this renewal so sudden within
herself? 'Who is she w h o ascends', and ascends
' t h r o u g h t h e desert?' Deserted, indeed, arid and
barren does she consider all this world through which
she ascends. A n d f o r w h a t reason has the scent of
this desert b e c o m e for us 'like the scent of a fertile
field' as if 'the L o r d has blessed it'?* H o w m a n y Gn 27:27.
does the scent of this desert lure t o itself and hold
w i t h o u t possibility of escape? This scent is 'the
scent of death luring t o d e a t h ' . * What y o u consider 2 Co 2:16.
f r u i t f u l n e s s is emptiness! 'It is a land of thirst', says
J e r e m i a h , and 'the image of d e a t h ' . * 'A land of Jr 2:6.
thirst', f o r it provokes rather than satisfies worldly
lusts. Fruitless is the land you t h i n k b o u n t i f u l and, if
there is any f r u i t , it withers so fast that b y its o w n
disappearance it presents a picture of death. Where
you b e h o l d the picture of death, w h y suppose y o u
are smelling the fragrance of life? Bountifulness
really breathes f o r t h t h e fragrance of Christ. He is
indeed the field really full a n d fertile, the field
which the F a t h e r has blessed. T h e bride knows n o
other field than his; any other she considers a desert,
an alkaline wasteland.
3. 'Who is she w h o ascends through the desert?'
Your heart will surely b e a good desert, if it has not
been f u r r o w e d b y an enemy's plough, if it has not
been watered b y his rain or dyed with his dew, if the
cockle he sows does not grow rank in y o u or rather
spring up afresh as in fertile soil. Let y o u r heart be
barren, lest it p r o d u c e such a weed or receive such a
seed. 'My soul', says t h e psalmist, 'is like land with-
out water in y o u r sight'.* A good desert is such a Ps 142:6.
soul, b u t a good desert also is flesh entire, flesh
not h a r r o w e d b y unclean desires, flesh ignorant of
180 Gilbert of Hoyland

the seeds of carnal pleasure. 'For he who sows in the

Ga 6:8. flesh, will reap corruption from the flesh.'* In
Scripture, a good desert is a virginal womb. Such was
the womb of that blessed and unique virginity which
no wound of immodest emotion or impure affection
violated. Her flesh was like wasteland, pathless and
unwatered, wherein Christ appeared. Yet her flesh
was not wholly barren, since it gave birth to Christ; it
is watered, but with streams of virtues. Therefore her
flesh is called 'a well of living waters, flowing in
Sg 4:15. a torrent from Lebanon',* because the limpid stream
of virginal purity pours forth spiritual graces. 'A
garden enclosed' was her womb, through the disci-
pline of virginal chastity, because the heat of carnal
desire did not destroy the hedge of innocence.
Therefore, watered by such streams, her womb
Ps 1:3. yielded fruit in due season.*
Do you wish to hear what kind of fruit this waste-
land yielded? Hosea teaches you for he says: 'The
Lord will bring a scorching wind ascending from the
Ho 13:15. desert and will dry up the springs' of death.* Who
else dried up the springs of death but Christ Jesus,
whom the desert of an inviolate womb poured forth
for us? Rightly did Hosea say 'wind', because the
Lm 4:20. Spirit before our face is Christ the Lord.* Again he
was called the second 'Adam who came as a life-giving
1 Co 15:45. spirit'.* At his breath fly the clouds of apostles
Is 60:8. which surprised Isaiah.* Why be surprised that he is
called a wind, when Isaiah also calls him a cloud?
Is 19:1. 'The Lord shall ascend upon a cloud.'* Here do not
understand 'light' as 'scudding' and 'unstable', but
take 'lightness' to mean 'spiritual readiness', because
an incorruptible body laid no burden on the soul and
an earthly dwelling did not oppress a mind which
Ws 9:15; Lk 2:19. stores many, or rather all, thoughts.*
Are not all the saints like winds because, eluding
things of earth by lightness of spirit, they build for
Ph 3:20. themselves a homeland in heaven?* But He himself
is a wind for a special reason, for 'he walks above the
wings of all other winds' and surpasses the virtues
Ps 103:3; Ep 1:21; of all the spirits.* Rightly therefore does Hosea call
IP 3:22. a w j n ( j a n c j a s c o r c h i n g wind, because at his
 Sermon Fifteen 181

b r e a t h t h e f r o s t s of sin in us w e r e t h a w e d a n d o u r
captivity m e l t e d like a flash f l o o d in t h e s o u t h . * In Ps 125:4.
t h e w a r m t h of this w i n d t h e disciples felt themselves
enflamed when they asked: 'Were n o t o u r hearts
b u r n i n g w i t h i n us w h i l e he was s p e a k i n g ? ' * A n d I Lk 24:32.
k n o w not w h e t h e r he blows anywhere more freely
t h a n in t h e u n t r o d d e n d e s e r t of a c h a s t e a n d in-
violate i n t e g r i t y . T h r o u g h these he b l o w s f r e e l y , a n d
t h e soul in a c h a s t e b o d y h e m a k e s glow w i t h t h e
fervor o f c h a r i t y . T h a t soul, m e l t e d w i t h spiritual
desires, h e dissolves i n t o light v a p o r a n d m a k e s rise
like a c o l u m n of s m o k e .
4. 'Who is s h e w h o ascends t h r o u g h t h e desert
like a c o l u m n of s m o k e ? ' A g o o d desert is t h e flesh
d r a i n e d a n d dried ,by t h e virtue of c h a s t i t y , f o r it
exhales n o mist of i m p u r e pleasure, d o e s n o t ex-
tinguish b u t r a t h e r f e e d s t h e fire w h i c h t h e b r e a t h of
t h e L o r d e n k i n d l e s . If this fire f i n d s a soul full of
spices, it sets t h e soul alight, changes it i n t o a n o t h e r
shape a n d w a f t s it i n t o t h e u p p e r air like a c o l u m n of
s m o k e . ' L i k e a c o l u m n ' , b e c a u s e b y t h e disciplining
of its t h o u g h t s t h e soul has b e e n r e s t o r e d f r o m dissi-
pation t o recollection and directed f r o m lower to
higher levels. 3 ' L i k e a c o l u m n ' , b e c a u s e t h e soul b o t h
g a t h e r s itself t o g e t h e r a n d reaches b e y o n d itself.
But w h a t is m e a n t b y t h e c o m p a r i s o n of t h e s o u l
t o a c o l u m n of ' s m o k e ' ? D i d t h e t e x t wish p e r h a p s t o
h i n t b y this c o m p a r i s o n t h a t t h e grace of this spiritual
sweetness a n d a s c e n t of t h e m i n d is n o t p e r m a n e n t
and solid b u t easily dissolves like s m o k e ? T h e p l u m e s
of smoke into which burnt incense dissolves are
obviously s w e e t - s c e n t e d a n d w h o l l y spiritual. B u t f o r
m y p a r t I f e a r f o r t h e coils of this s o f t and slender
c o l u m n , lest gusts of w i n d b u f f e t t h e c o l u m n , lest
s t o r m s of a n x i e t y s w a y it, lest b r e e z e s of t e m p t a t i o n
s c a t t e r it, lest it yield t o every w i n d . T h e r e are prece-
d e n t s t o a w a k e n o u r a p p r e h e n s i o n . I n d e e d w e see and
grieve f o r m a n y pillars w h o fell as u n e x p e c t e d l y as
t h e y rose s u d d e n l y . T h e y are skilful in m e d i t a t i o n ,
keen on t h e s t u d y o f p r a y e r , rich in grace, f r u i t f u l in
t e n d e r d e v o t i o n , p r o f u s e in t e a r s ; t h e n s u d d e n l y s o m e
slight occasion f o r i m p a t i e n c e m a k e s t h e i r spiritual
182 Gilbert of Hoyland

delights sour and dry. When such a glorious ascent

so easily vanishes, is it not like smoke? Such an
ascent really is like a column of smoke when it either
crumbles through its own instability or yields to some
passing assault. Yet 1 dare not interpret the smoke as
a failing in the person of the bride. Still, if you dis-
agree for the sake of argument, you are welcome to
interpret her failure as the one described by the
psalmist: 'My eyes have failed with watching for
your promise. My soul has failed as it waits for your
Ps 118:82-81. salvation'.*
5. Would that my eyes, O Lord, might grow dim
and fail me with this failure. Would that my soul
might fail with this failure. Would that it might fail
and dissolve and, melting at your word, that word
of passionate fire, be released from every plodding
act of understanding into the more rarified atmo-
sphere of a spiritual state. If there has been in me
any obtuseness of understanding and dullness of
desire, may it dissolve into a habit of grace more
refined, and by some spiritual rarefaction and subtlety
be changed from its coarseness into a column of
smoke. Into such smoke may the power of my soul
vanish, but may it not vanish like smoke lest it
Ps 101:4. should say: 'My days have vanished like smoke'.*
For it is one thing to vanish like smoke so that you
vanish into non-existence, and quite another to
vanish so that you become like smoke, refined in
spirit and spiritual. The psalmist had become faint in
the right way when he said: 'My soul yearns and
Ps 83:3. faints for the courts of the Lord',* for how does he
not grow faint whom Christ inflames?
Christ is a fire, as Paul writes, and a 'consuming
Heb 12:29. fire'.* One who approaches me, He says, approaches
fire. Who will enable me to bind this fire to my
Pr6:27. bosom,* that his fire may inflame my heart, change
my marrow and reduce me t o nothing? Rightly the
bride ascends like a column of smoke, for she
emerges from the warmth of his chamber, from the
embrace of the flaming Word. Your flame, O Christ,
is wont to pour out clouds of incense; your flame
emits a smoke of aromatic fragrance. 'Like a column
 Sermon Fifteen 183

of smoke from perfumes', says our text. In J o b * Jb 41:11.

I read of smoke which billows from the jaws of
Leviathan, 5 and in the Apocalypse of smoke issuing
from the shaft of the bottomless pit,* but I read Rv 9:2.
nothing there either of a column or of spices. Nothing
upright is there, nothing fragrant is there, but only
utmost horror and' total disorder. The smoke of error
issues from the shaft of the bottomless pit. Of this
sfnoke the wicked are said to admit: 'The breath in
our nostrils is a puff of smoke and words are sparks
to move our hearts'. 6
May smoke, roused by your fire, good Jesus, be a
breath in my nostrils. May words from your forge be
sparks t o move or rather to change my heart. Your
fire is a 'consuming fire'. Whatever vices it finds, it
consumes and it emits the smoke of confession. But
this smoke is not from spices. 'He touches the
mountains', says the psalmist, 'and they smoke'.* Ps 103:32.
Good is the fire which shrinks tumors of the spirit
and by its touch makes earthly exaltation vanish in
repentence like puffs of smoke. But of a different
fragrance and grace is the smoke which billows from
the burnt spices of the virtues. Your fire, the fire
which the Lord cast upon the earth and ardently
desired to see kindled,* not only consumes vices but Lk 12:49.
changes the virtues themselves into an affection of
more fragrant grace. When spices are whole they are
sweet-smelling, but when they are melted in this fire
they breathe out a much superior fragrance.
6. Perceiving this fragrance from the bride, the
Bridegroom's companions marvel and ask: 'Who is
she who ascends through the desert like a column of
smoke from spices of myrrh and incense and all the
powders of the perfumer?' In myrrh, you have the
virtue of continence; in incense, devotion to prayer;
in the powders of the perfumer, amid a wealth of
virtues, the humility of a contrite heart. Good is the
myrrh which subdues the petulance of the flesh,
allows no play to wanton impulses and strives to
compel the flesh not to be fleshy.* But the myrrh of Lam 188, n. 122.
our continence seems corporeal, less chastened, like
a neighbor of the flesh, unless it has been melted in
184 Gilbert of Hoyland

this heavenly fire, this ardor of divine love. Good

indeed is the myrrh of continence, when it checks an
instinct hurrying towards what is illicit, but it is of a
higher fragrance and grace when, melting in the heat
of charity, it knows nothing of gross and carnal
affection.
But what is the meaning of incense? Is its
fragrance not slight as long as it is left uncrushed and
solid? But when it begins to dissolve over the flames,
it billows out wholly in coils of fragrant smoke. In a
similar way, does not prayer seem to you gross and
sluggish, delayed by the sloth of the b o d y , if it has
not been enkindled by the power of a blazing
interior word? Certainly for my part, in incense I
recognize the tinder of prayer and in smoke its grace.
'Let my prayer', says the psalmist, 'arise like incense
Ps 140:2; Lam in your sight'.* Prayer which has not been enkindled
^'//l'^"^37' knows not how to go straight up to God. Prayer
wrung from a cold heart falls back at once. If it is not
eager, it cannot be lasting, for it suffers violence and
is not its own master. Not that prayer enkindled is
obviously its own master. The former is driven back
despite its efforts; the latter is swept away beyond its
efforts. The former strives and relapses; the latter
ascends regardless of striving. The one is kept to its
course by violence; the other is freely swept forward.
One scarcely makes an appearance; the other cannot
be restrained. One is born of labor; the other born of
liberty. One is glum; the other joyous. One is good,
but the other best. In Scripture, there is a prayer
which in its moderation stands halfway between
frigid and fervent, surpassing the former but not
approaching the latter. And to put names on them,
the first is forced, the second directed and the third
ecstatic. The first I might call thirsty, the second
sober, the third inebriated. Now the last is the
2 Co 5:13. prayer which goes out of its own mind to meet God,*
and therefore 'ascends like a column of smoke from
spices of myrrh and incense and all the powders of
the perfumer'.
7. In the powders of the perfumer, the text
marvelously represents the virtue of humility, for
 Sermon Fifteen 185

humility has not learned to make much of great

merits or to have much taste for lofty ideas,* but in Rm 11:20.

its humble opinion it makes little of the merits of its

other virtues and reduces their solid value, as it were,
to the consistency of powder. After the commenda-
tion of prayer, the text rightly adds a note about
humility under the figure of perfumer's powder. For
the prayer of one who humbles himself penetrates
the clouds.* Indeed, however keen prayer may be, it Si 35:21; Lam
p
is dull without the grace of humility. The myrrh of a ~188' 118
'
proud chastity emits an acrid scent and the myrrh of
continence which allows the spirit to grow wanton
with the smoke of pride does not properly restrain
the vagrant movements of carnal thoughts. By much
crushing, perfumes are reduced to powder. And
crushing is good, for God does not despise the
crushed and humbled heart.* Ps 50:19; Lam
Obviously good is the crushing which leaves P-193, n. 155.
nothing untouched, nothing elated, nothing not
humbled, even among the virtues. Humility sits in
judgement on acts of justice and convinces them not
only 'about sin but also about righteousness and
judgement'.* Now is what is convicted not, as it Jo 16:8.
were, crushed? Or is an act of justice which is put on
trial not humbled? 'In your truth', says the psalmist,
'you have humbled me'.* Not everyone can say this. Ps 118:75.
The weaker are humbled in their own vanity; the
more perfect are humbled in the truth of God. For
vanity cannot discern the truth, but truth can discern
both vanity and truth.
Yes, the Spirit discerns all things.* What seemed 1 Co 2:10.
whole and entire to human judgement, at his coming,
the Spirit of truth makes empty and crushed. For in
the mighty mortar of the Spirit perfumes of the vir-
tues are to be ground into powder and justice to be
judged. 'In the whirlwind,' says Job, 'he will crush
me'; in the whirlwind of his spirit, a violent Spirit
that sweeps away my spirit in the whirlwind. 'In this
whirlwind,' says J o b , 'he will crush me and multiply
my wounds'.* Before his violent Spirit arrived, my Jb9:17.
justice seemed to me faultless; but the Spirit discerns,
crushes, wounds, and in many ways shatters my
186 Gilbert of Hoyland

reliance on my good works. The Spirit teaches that

human virtue is wounded and faint. 7
8. Would that it might befall me t o be crushed in
this way, to be reduced to the powder of all good
Lam 185-6, n. 103. affections and devout meditations.* Good Jesus,
would that the whirlwind of your Spirit might
blow such a powder upon my soul, dust f r o m the
squares of the heavenly Jerusalem, that in this dust
I might grow warm, in the dust I might be seated, in
the dust I might sleep—but in the dust of the per-
fumer's powder. Blessed is he who tarries in this
dust, he to whom fragrant thoughts pulverized by the
spirit are wafted from all sides. 'Awake', says
Is 26:19. Isaiah, 'and give praise, you who dwell in the dust'.*
The bride also, waking from her happy sleep, rises
'like a column of smoke from spices . . . of-all the
powders of the perfumer'. 'All', says the text. Truth
in person teaches you to reduce the array of your
good works to a kind of powder and barrenness:
'When you have done all things, say "We are
unprofitable servants; we have done only what was
Lk 17:10. our d u t y " ' . *
Happy the man who gathers for himself powder of
such quantity and quality that he does whatever is
commanded and considers it nothing, w h o by humil-
ity crushes all the good things he gathers. Writing to
the Corinthians, Paul enumerates the many spices of
his good works: 'On frequent journeys, in perils from
floods, perils from brigands, perils from my own
nation, perils from the Gentiles, perils by sea, perils
in the city, perils in the wilderness, perils from false
brethren'. Then what does he add? 'The daily pres-
sure upon' him of his 'anxiety for all the Churches.
Who is weak', he asks, 'and I am not weaker? Who is
2Co 11:26-29. made to stumble and I am not indignant'?* Does
Paul not seem to you t o have gathered a powder as it
were of good works, as he reviews these trials and
more like them? Would you care t o hear of some
kinds of virtues in him still more sublime? Come with
him to the visions and revelations of God, to his
being swept into paradise, into the third heaven.
Come t o that blessed ignorance of whether his
 Sermon Fifteen 187

ecstasy took place in the body or out of the body.

This was no longer the powder of humility but the
incense of prayer. However, lest with this smoke of
spiritual contemplation the smoke of vainglory be
mingled, hear what follows: 'To keep me from being
too elated by the greatness of these revelations, a
sting was given me in the flesh'.* Paul is stung lest he 2 Co 12:1-7.
be elated, and how is it that you who are listening to
this shrink from being stung? How is it that amid a
wealth of gifts you either cease to crush yourself or
do not allow yourself to be crushed? A sting is a
nuisance but the annoyance adds humility to your
progress. A nuisance is a sting of the flesh but not a
sting of charity. Suffering is bitter and pounding is
severe; both humble the virtues.
9. But everything emerges more fragrantly and
more perfectly from the furnace of blazing love. This
flame not only humbles the virtues but even alters
them, changes them into a new look and makes more
spiritual what were already spiritual. The myrrh of
continence, the incense of prayer, and the humble
awareness of all one's virtues represented by the per-
fumer's powder, all these produce a countenance
more serene and a look more pleasing, when they
issue from this smithy's forge. Indeed the pestle and
mortar of contrition is good, but firing in the forge is
better. The perfumer's powder is fragrant, but the
smoke surpasses it. For something more fragrant and
more spiritual is represented by smoke than by
powder. Therefore the bride, aglow with some gift of
a blazing word in the Bridegroom's embrace, melts
from perfumer's powder into finer wisps of smoke,
from the dust of humbled virtues into the smoke of
glory. What do you think her arrival will be like,
when her ascent is so delightful? What is her destina-
tion when she ascends in such beauty? How great is
the place of delights for which he arranges these
ascents? Perhaps it is the bed of the Beloved. For to
that especially the bride should aspire. Yes, obviously
it is, as the next verse shows: 'Behold the carriage of
Solomon, surrounded by sixty of the bravest men of
Israel'.* Beautiful is the plan, that she should come Sg3:7.
188 Gilbert of Hoyland

from one little bed t o another, from her own, from

the chamber of her mother, to the carriage of her
Solomon. No less appropriate is the variety which
interlaces these delights with deeds of bravery, and
that Solomon should surround his carriage with such
a strong guard. But let us now check the reins of our
galloping word, and devote a new sermon to a new
verse with the aid of our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives
and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.
 NOTES TO SERMON FIFTEEN

1. After a few introductory sentences to his brethren, fratres, G. con-

tinues throughout in the second person singular: Attende . . . .
2. Leclercq, Otia Monastica, 108:35.
3. Lam p. 170, n. 3; pp. 189-90, nn. 127, 131.
4. Reading corpulentae for torpulentae with Mab.; see corpulenta in par. 6.
5. G. writes de ore, Vulg. de naribus,
6. Ws 2:2; G. writes afflatus and scintillae; Vulg. flatus and scintilla.
7. Reading sauciam with Migne, for sanetam of Mab.

189
 ABBREVIATIONS

ABR American Benedictine Review. Newark, New Jersey, 1950-.

ASOC Analecta Sacri Ordinis Cisterciensis; Analecta Cisterciensia.
Rome, 1945-.
CC Corpus Christianorum series. Turnhout, Belgium, 1953-.
CF Cistercian Fathers Series. Spencer, Mass., Washington, D.C.,
Kalamazoo, Mich., Cistercian Publications, 1970-.
CS Cistercian Studies Series. Spencer, Mass., Washington, D.C.,
Kalamazoo, Mich., Cistercian Publications, 1969-.
CSt Cistercian Studies. Chimay, Belgium, 1961-.
Cfteaux Cfteaux: Commentarii cistercienses; Cfteaux in de Neder-
landen. Westmalle, Belgium, 1950-.
Coll. Collectanea o.c.r.; Collectanea cisterciensia. Rome, 1934-.
de Lubac De Lubac, Henri, Exégèse Médiéval. Paris, Aubier, 1959-64.
DSp Dictionnaire de Spiritualité, Paris, 1932-.
Dion Oeuvres Complètes de Saint Bernard, V : l - 3 1 9 , Latin text
and French tr. of Gilbert of Hoyland, P. Dion. Paris:
Vivès, 1873.
E Epistle of Gilbert of Hoyland, cited by number and
paragraph.
Flor. Sermones super Cantica Canticorum, Editio princeps [of
Gilbert of Hoyland]. Florence, Nicolaus Laurenti, 1485.
G. Gilbert of Hoyland.
Gilson Gilson, Etienne, The Mystical Theology of Saint Bernard,
tr. A. H. C. Downes. London: Sheed and Ward, 1940.
Lam M. Jean Vuong-dinh Lam, 'Le Monastère: Foyer de Vie
Spirituelle d'après Gilbert de Hoyland' and 'Les obser-
vances monastiques: instruments de Vie Spirituelle d'après
Gilbert de Hoyland', Coll. 26 (1964) 5-21, 169-199.
Leclercq Leclercq, Jean, The Love of Learning and the Desire for
God: a study of monastic culture, N.Y.: Fordham Press, 1961.

191
192 Abbreviations

Miquel Miquel, Pierre, 'Les Caractères de l'expérience religieuse

d'après Gilbert de Hoyland', Coll. 27 (1965) 150-159.
Morson Morson, J o h n , 'The English Cistercians and the Bestiary',
Bulletin of John Rylands Library 39 (1956) 146-172.
MS Mediaeval Studies. Toronto, 1939-.
R. Roger of Byland, 'Lac Parvulorum', ASOC 7 (1951)
218-231.
RAM Revue d'Ascétique et de Mystique. Toulouse, 1920-.
RB St. Benedict's Rule for Monasteries. Tr. Leonard Doyle,
Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1948. La règle de S. Benoît.
Sources chrétiennes 181-183, ed. Adalbert de Vogué
(1972).
R. Ben. Revue Bénédictine. Maredsous, Belgium, 1899-1910; 1911-.
S Gilbert of Hoyland, Sermons on the Canticle, cited by
number and paragraph.
SAn Studia Anselmiana series. Rome, 1933-.
SBOp Sancti Bernardi Opera, ed. J. Leclercq, C. H. Talbot, H. M.
Rochais. Rome: Editiones Cistercienses, 1957-.
SC Bernard of Clairvaux, Sermons on the Song of Songs.
SBOp 1-2, tr. Kilian Walsh, The Works of Bernard of Clair-
vaux, CF 4, 7, [ 3 1 , 4 0 ] ,
SMC Studies in Medieval Culture. Kalamazoo, Mich., 1964-.
T Gilbert of Hoyland, Ascetical Treatise, cited by number
and paragraph.
Talbot Talbot, C. H., 'A Letter of Roger, Abbot of Byland',
ASOC 7 (1951) 218-231.
VCH The Victoria History of the Counties of England, ed.
William Page. II, A History of Lincolnshire, 22. The Abbey
of Swineshead, pp. 145-46.
Vulg. Vulgate.
White White, Terence Hanbury, The English Bestiary. New York:
Putnam, 1960.

Psalms have been cited according to the Vulgate eniimeration. Abbre-

viations and nomenclature conform to that of the Jerusalem Bible.
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