Sermon XL. On the Cheeks of the Spouse and what Constitutes their Beauty

"Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtle dove's."

The Spouse, my brethren, is extremely bashful and sensitive. Hence, as it appears to me, she must have blushed scarlet at the sharp reproof of her Beloved, and, looking more lovely than ever in her embarrassment, merited to hear from Him, immediately, the eulogium, '* Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtle dove's." But you must not take these words in a materialistic sense, as if there were question here of the visible blush on mortal flesh, arising from the even diffusion of a corruptible fluid, ruddy or crimson, close beneath the superficies of a pale and transparent skin; for it is the mixing and combining of these colours in due proportion that produce the red-and-white complexion which adorns the face with physical beauty. The soul is an immaterial and invisible substance, pos-sensing neither distinction of bodily members, nor capacity for the ornamentation of sensible colours. Try, then, as best you can, to conceive a spiritual essence in a spiritual way; and, to preserve the aptness of the similitude proposed, understand the face of the soul to be the intention of the mind. For it is from the intention that we estimate the merit of a work, just as the beauty of the body is judged from the face. Consider, moreover, that the blush which suffuses the soul's face is nothing else than her modesty, which is compared to a blush, because it, in an especial way, enhances her beauty and increases her grace. Therefore is it said to her, "Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtle dove's." It would indeed be more in conformity with usage to speak of the face and to describe it as beautiful; for, according to custom, whenever we wish to praise anyone on account of her beauty, we say, "she has a lovely" or "a beautiful face." But, although I am not sure what it is, I nevertheless feel quite certain that the Bridegroom has something very particular in view in preferring to mention the cheeks. For we must remember that He Who speaks is the Spirit of Wisdom, and it would be impious to suppose that He could use words without significance, or otherwise than they ought to be used. Therefore, whatever it is, a reason there certainly must be why He chooses to refer to the cheeks in the plural, rather than to the face in the singular. And, if you can suggest nothing more plausible, I will offer for your consideration the explanation which occurs to me.

There are two things, my brethren, necessarily implied in every act of intention (which, as I have said, is the face of the soul) and these are the object and the motive, that is to say, what you intend and the reason that determines you. Now it is according to these two elements that the beauty or deformity of the soul is estimated; so that a soul wherein both are pure and righteous is judged to be beautiful and deserves to have applied to her the words, "Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtle dove's." But should she be found defective in one or other, then it would be no longer true to say to her, "Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtle dove's," because of the partial deformity which she exhibits. Much less can this eulogium be applied to the soul which has neither a good object nor a good motive in her intentions. All this will appear more evident from examples. If a person, for instance, gives up his mind to the investigation of truth, and that purely from the love of truth, does it not seem to you that in his case both the object and the motive are equally excellent and that he has every right to apply to himself the Words of the Bridegroom, "Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtle dove's"? For in neither of the cheeks of the soul that is such, does there appear any spot or speck of evil. But were a soul to apply herself to the quest after truth, not for the sake of truth, but from the desire of vainglory, or with a view to some temporal advantage, although one of her cheeks, viz., the object of her intention, appears vested with beauty, yet because the other has been denied by the baseness of the motive, I have no doubt you would pronounce her at least partially deformed. And if you were to see another soul devoting her energies to no honourable object, but sunk in sensuality, given up completely to the pleasures of the table and the delights of the flesh, as being one of those "whose God is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame, who mind earthly things," what would be your verdict on her? Would you not declare her to be repulsive in both cheeks, as having at once a bad motive and a bad object in her intention?

It is, consequently, a mark of a worldly soul, both of whose cheeks are devoid of beauty, to make the world rather than God the object of her intention. The hypocritical soul, on the contrary, is characterised by the fact that she does indeed, at least in some sense, direct her intention towards God, yet not for the sake of God. And although this divine regard, such as it is, seems to beautify one of her cheeks, the insincerity of her piety destroys all her attractions and spreads the deformity of ugliness over her whole face. Again, to turn to God either solely or principally for the sake of the necessaries of this present life, renders the soul — I will not say defiled with the filth of hypocrisy, but deficient in the brightness of purity — the effect of pusillanimity — and consequently less acceptable. On the other hand, to aim at something other than God, yet on account of God, is not indeed the peaceful repose of Mary, but rather the busy solicitude of Martha. But God forbid that I should assert the existence of any deformity in such a soul. Yet neither would I affirm that she has attained to the perfection of spiritual beauty, because she is still "careful and troubled about many things," and cannot but be sprinkled, however slightly, with the dust of earthly occupations.¹ However, such inconsiderable stains will be easily and quickly removed, at least in the hour of a holy death, by the merit of a pure intention and the testimony of a good conscience towards God. Therefore, she alone, whose intention is directed to God for His own sake, exhibits absolute beauty in both cheeks. And this is proper and special to the Spouse, who by reason of her singular prerogative, deserves to be saluted by her Bridegroom with the words, "Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtle dove's."

But why is she compared to the turtle dove? No doubt, because this bird is remarkable for shyness, does not consort with many, and is said to be content with the company of a single mate; and if she should lose him, she seeks no other, but leads thereafter a solitary life. Do you, therefore, my brethren, who are listening to me, lest you should hear to no purpose what has been written for your good, and is now for your good being examined and discussed — do you, I say, moved by these exhortations of the Holy Spirit, and animated with an ardent desire to discover how you may make your souls the spouses of Christ, study to beautify the two cheeks of your intention, that, after the example of the turtle dove, the most modest of birds, you may sit solitary, as the Prophet Jeremias says, because you have raised yourselves above yourselves. For surely it is to be raised above yourselves to be espoused to the Lord of angels. Are you not raised above yourselves when you cleave to God and are made one Spirit with Him? Sit solitary, then, like the turtle dove. Have nothing to do with the throng, nothing in common with the multitude of men. O holy soul, even "forget thy people and thy father's house, and the King shall greatly desire thy beauty." Remain alone, and amongst all preserve thyself for Him alone, Who has chosen thee from amongst all. Shun the public view; shun even the members of thine own household; withdraw from the company of friends and familiars, even from him who ministers to thy necessities. Knowest thou not that thy Beloved is of a shy disposition, and will not lend thee His presence in the presence of others? Seek solitude, therefore, not of the body, but of the mind and of the spirit, solitude in intention and in devotion. For "a Spirit before thy face is Christ the Lord," and what He requires of thee is not a physical but a spiritual isolation. Nevertheless, thou wouldst do well to withdraw thyself in body as well from time to time, according to thy opportunity, and especially at the hour of prayer. Thou hast for this also both the precept and the example of thy Beloved. "But thou," He says, "when thou shalt pray, enter thy chamber, and having shut the door, pray to thy Father in secret." And what He preached to others, He practised Himself. He used to pass the night alone in prayer, separating Himself not only from the crowds, but also from every one of His disciples, not even excepting His most familiar friends. When of His own accord He was hastening to meet death, He took with Him the three apostles with whom He was most intimate. But He retired even from their company when He wished to pray. Therefore, do thou act similarly when thou wouldst give thyself to the exercise of prayer.

For the rest, nothing more is enjoined you, my brethren, but the solitude of mind and of spirit. You are alone in this way, when you exclude the thought of common things, and all attachment to present things; when you contemn what the many admire, and count as nothing what they eagerly covet; when you avoid disputes, make light of temporal losses and forget injuries. Otherwise, you will not be really alone, even when you have no visible company. Or do you not understand that one can be alone although surrounded by a multitude and, contrariwise, one can be in the company of many when exteriorly alone? You are alone, my brethren, no matter what number are with you, provided you are careful neither to inquire too curiously into the conduct of your neighbour, nor rashly to sit in judgment upon his doings. And if you happen to discover some fault in him, even so, beware of con-damning, but rather excuse. At least excuse the intention, if you cannot excuse the act. Believe that what appears blameworthy is due to ignorance, or to surprise, or to mere accident. But if the guilt is so manifest that you cannot shut your eyes to it, still do your best to extenuate what you are unable to excuse, and say to yourselves, "The temptation no doubt was exceedingly strong. What would have become of me were I subjected to a similar trial?" And remember that it is to the Spouse I have been speaking thus, not to the friend of the Bridegroom.² For the latter has the special duty of keeping diligent watch to prevent sin on the part of his charge, of examining whether sin has been committed, and, if so, of administering due correction. But the Spouse is under no such obligation and lives to herself alone and to Him Whom she loves, her Bridegroom and her Lord, Who is over all things, God blessed for ever. Amen.

Footnotes

1. "Et non potest terrenorum actuum vel tenui pulvere non respergi," with which compare the words of St. Leo the Great in his fourth Lenten sermon: "Dum per varias actiones vitae hujus sollicitudo distenditur, necesse est de mundane pulvere etiam religiosa corda sordescere." — (Translator.) I. 2 g ↩

2. By the friend of the Bridegroom the Saint evidently means a religious Superior, who is responsible for the conduct of those committed to his care. — (Translator.) ↩