Sermon LXXXII. On the Manner in which Sin Spoils the Likeness of the Soul to God by Combining the Contrary Qualities with her Simplicity, Immortality and Liberty

"In my bed by night I sought Him Whom my soul loveth: I sought Him and found Him not. I will rise, and will go about the city: in the streets and the broad ways I will seek Him Whom my soul loveth: I sought Htm and I found Him not."

"The watchmen who kept the city found me: Have you seen Him

Whom my soul loveth?

"When I had a little passed beyond them, I found Him Whom my soul loveth: I held Him and I will not let Him go, till I bring Him into my mother's house, and into the chamber of her that bore me."

What think you, my brethren? May we now return to the point whence we digressed and resume the order of our exposition? For the digression was made for the purpose of demonstrating the affinity between the Word and the soul, and this has already been rendered sufficiently plain. We might indeed go back now, as it seems to me, did I not feel conscious that there still remains some little obscurity in regard to what has been said. I desire to defraud you of nothing. I should not like to pass over anything at all which I think might profit you. How then could I dare to withhold from you any part of that which has been given me for you especially? I know a person who once, whilst delivering a discourse, with a diffident although not with a faithless soul, wished to keep back and to reserve for himself some of the thoughts wherewith the Holy Spirit was inspiring him, in order to have matter for another sermon on the same subject: but lo 1 he heard a voice saying to him, "so long as thou withholdest this thou shalt receive nothing else."¹ What would have been the case had he kept back what was given him, not from any desire to make provision for his own poverty, but through envy of his brethren's progress in virtue? Would he not be deprived, and justly deprived, like the unprofitable servant, of even that which he seemed to have? May God continue always in the future (as He has always done in the past) to keep such a misfortune far from your servant! So may He, who is the ever-flowing Fountain of salutary wisdom, condescend henceforth to abound unto me without failing, according as I without envy have communicated to you and poured out for your benefit whatever He has so far deigned to impart to me! If I were to keep back what I owe to you, from whom could I any longer hope to receive anything? From no one surely, not even from the bounty of God.

Well, then, as I was saying, there is a difficulty arising out of my last two discourses, which I am afraid will prove a stumbling block to some of you, unless it is explained away. And indeed, if I am not mistaken, there are some here present whose minds are already perplexed concerning this very point whereof I am about to speak. With regard to that threefold likeness to the Word which I have assigned to the soul, or rather to which I have called your attention as naturally implanted in the soul, do you remember my saying also that it inheres inseparably in the soul? Yet this appears to conflict with certain passages of Holy Scripture, for example, with these words of the Psalmist, "man when he was in honour did not understand: he is compared to senseless beasts, and is become like to them"; and with these also, "They changed their glory into the likeness of a calf that eateth grass"; and with what the same Prophet says, speaking in the person of the Lord, "Thou thoughtest unjustly that I shall be like to thee"; as wtII as with all those other testimonies which seem to agree in declaring that man's likeness to God has been lost by sin. How are we to solve the difficulty, my brethren? Shall we say that the three attributes, which I have mentioned as constituting the likeness in question, are not found in God at all, and that therefore we have to seek for others to serve as a foundation for that likeness? Or shall we say, that although these attributes are really possessed by God, they do not likewise belong to the soul, and thus again cannot constitute a likeness between them? Or finally that, granting the existence both in God and in the soul of simplicity, immortality and liberty, yet the soul may also be without such characteristics, and therefore they are not inseparable from her? God forbid that we should speak so! Not only do these attributes exist both in the Word and in the soul, but they also exist inseparably in either. And so there is nothing in what I have said which I have reason to repent of, for it is all grounded on absolute and unquestionable truth. With regard to what Holy Scripture says about the soul's having been made unlike to God, I observe that it does not assert the putting off of the old similitude but only the putting on of a new dissimilitude. The soul, as is e\ident, has not stripped herself of her original form but simply covered it over with an adventitious. The latter has been added to, not substituted for the former. And although that which is superinduced has been able to obscure the natural form, it has not been able to destroy it completely. Hence St. Paul says, "Their foolish heart was darkened" (obscuratum), and Jeremias, "How is the gold become obscured, and the finest colour changed?" The Prophet laments that the gold has lost its brightness, 3'et acknowledges that it still preserves the nature of gold; he grieves to see the finest colour dimmed, but does not complain that it has been utterly destroyed. For the soul still retains her attribute of simplicity quite unimpaired in its essentials, although it is no longer visible, being overlaid with the vice of duplicity which exhibits itself in human deceit, simulation, and hypocrisy.

How incongruous, my brethren, is such a combination of simplicity and duplicity! How unbecoming to raise so bad a superstructure upon a foundation so excellent! It was with duplicity of this kind that the serpent covered himself of old, when, in order to deceive our first parents, he offered himself as a counsellor and feigned to be their friend. It was to the same the two dwellers in paradise had recourse when, ha'ing been seduced by the tempter, they endeavoured to conceal their now shameful nakedness amidst the shadow of the trees, and with garments of fig-leaves and words of excuse. How universally thenceforth and all down through the centuries has the poison of hypocrisy, inherited from them, infected their posterity! Can you show me one amongst the children of Adam who, I do not say is willing, but can even endure, to be known for what he is? Nevertheless along with this hereditary duplicity, her natural simplicity persists in every soul, so that the union of opposite properties makes the confusion worse confounded. The soul's immortality likewise endures, but dimmed and darkened by the invading dense cloud of temporal death. For although she is not herself deprived of the gift of perennial life, she yet has not sufficient power to vindicate the same gift for her body. And not only that, but she has not even preserved her own spiritual life. "The soul that sinneth the same shall die," as the Prophet Ezechiel speaks. Does it not seem to you, my brethren, that the immortality, such as it is, which remains with her, is rendered very obscure and miserable by the invasion of this twofold death? Moreover, her desire for the things of earth, which are all only capable of destroying her, increases her darkness to such an extent that in the soul thus living nothing appears visible on any side save the pallid countenance, so to speak, and the lugubrious image of death. Wherefore, then, does not she that is immortal, seek after those things which are likewise immortal and eternal, so that she may show herself to be what she really is, and may live according as she has been made? But no, she longs for and relishes only what is contrary to her nature; and thus, by her unworthy conversation conforming herself to mortal creatures, she darkens the lustre of her immortality with the pitchy hue, as it were, of death-bearing conduct. For surely it is to be expected that an immortal being, by loving things mortal, should become like unto these and unlike herself. "He that toucheth pitch," says the Wise Man, "shall be defiled with it." The soul that takes delight in what is mortal puts on the semblance of mortality. Yet by assuming the likeness of death she does not put off but merely discolours the robe of her immortality.

Consider the case of Eve, how her immortal soul, through an inordinate affection for mortal objects, caused the glory of her immortality to be overlaid and obscured by the duskiness of a supervening liability to death. For since she was immortal, why did she not rather despise all that was mortal and transitory, and content herself with things like herself, things immortal and eternal? But, as we read, "The woman saw that the tree was good to eat, and fair to the eyes, and delightful to behold." It appertains not to thee, O woman, neither that goodness, nor that fairness, nor that delightfulness. Or if it does appertain to thee according to thy material part, it appertains not to thee alone, but is equally the property of all the beasts of the earth. That which is thine, which properly belongs to thee, comes from another source and has another nature; for it is from eternity and is itself eternal. Wherefore wouldst thou impress upon thy soul another form, especially an alien form, nay, what is more a deformity than a form? For the pleasure which the soul feels in acquiring temporal goods is accompanied with the fear of losing them; and this fear is a kind of colour, because it stains and so disguises the liberty of her will, and makes it look unlike itself. How much more worthy of her origin would it have been to desire nothing which could become a cause of uneasiness to her, that so she might defend her inborn freedom against this servile fear, and preserve it in all its natural strength and beauty! But

MANNER IN WHICH SIN SPOILS SOUL' 479 alas! it has not been so. The finest colour has lost its brilliancy. And so thou, poor Eve, fleest away and concealest thyself; thou hearest the voice of God and dost hide thyself. Why is this unless because thou art now afraid of Him Whom erstwhile Thou didst love, and because the form of the slave has superseded that of the free-born child?

But that voluntary necessity also and that "contradicting law" imposed on the bodily members (whereof I treated in my last discourse) militate against the same liberty, and by means of his own will reduce to servitude, whilst alluring him, man, a creature naturally free, "filling his face with shame"; so that even in spite of himself he has to serve with his flesh the "law of sin." Therefore, because he neglected to defend the nobility of his nature by probity of life, it has come to pass by the just judgment of his Creator, not indeed that he is deprived of his native liberty, but that he is "clothed over with his confusion as with a double cloak." Very appropriate is this image of a double cloak. For man wears now a double mantle, so to speak, because whilst his freedom still remains on account of his will, his slavish manner of life is a proof of his servitude. And such is the case, as you may notice, not alone with the soul's liberty, but also with her simplicity and with her immortality. In fact, if you examine the matter closely, it will appear to you that there is nothing at all in her which is not similarly covered with this double cloak of likeness and unlikeness to God. Have you not there a double cloak where duplicity exists, not as a natural quality, but as something superadded to a native simplicity, fastened and sewed on to it, as it were, with the needle of sin; and where in the same manner death is combined with immortality, and necessity with freedom? For simplicity of essence is not excluded by duplicity of heart, nor immortality of nature by either the voluntary death of sin or the involuntary death of the body, nor liberty of will by the constraint of a willing servitude. Accordingly, accidental evil supervening on the good of nature is not substituted for, but rather coexists with that good: it does not destroy but dishonours it; it confounds without expelling it. Hence it is that the soul is made unlike to God, aye, and made unlike to herself also; hence she "is compared to senseless beasts and is become like to them"; hence it is said of her that she "hath changed her glory into the likeness of a calf that eateth grass"; hence men, like foxes, have formed for themselves cunning refuges of craft and duplicity, and because they have lowered themselves to the level of foxes, "they shall be the portions of foxes"; hence, according to the words of Solomon, "The death of man and of beast is one." Why should he not resemble them in his death, if he has resembled them in his mode of life? In the manner of the beast he bends down to the earth, therefore he shall leave the earth also in the manner of the beast. And listen to something more. What wonder is it that man's end should be found similar to the brute's, since there has been the same similarity in their beginnings? For that intemperate heat of passion and that excess of violent pain which attend our origin and our entrance into this world, whence come they except from our likeness to the beast? And thus, in his conception and in his birth, in his life and in his death, man "is compared to senseless beasts and is become like them."

What shall I say, my brethren, of the fact that man, a free creature, instead of ruling as a lord the inferior appetite which was made subject to him, prefers to obey it and to follow it like a slave? Does he not herein also make himself the equal and the associate of the irrational animals which have not been endowed with liberty, but fashioned for servitude without the power of resisting their appetites and passions? Is it not with reason that God is ashamed to be represented or reputed like a creature so degraded? Therefore He says, "Thou thoughtest, O wicked one, that I shall be like to thee,"² and He adds, "But I will reprove thee and set (thee) before thy face." It is not possible for a soul that sees herself to regard herself as like to God, at least this is not possible for a wicked and sinful soul such as mine. And it is to souls of this kind that the above reproof is addressed. For God does not say, "Thou thoughtest, O soul," or, "Thou thoughtest O man," but "Thou thoughtest, O wicked one, that I shall be like to thee." But if the wicked one be set before his own face, and be shown the dead and corrupted countenance of his interior man, so that he cannot shut his eyes or refuse attention to the impurities of his conscience, but has to gaze upon the soil of his sins even in spite of himself, and to contemplate the foulness of his evil habits, then, I believe, he will no longer be able to think God Uke himself, but, humbled by the great dissimilarity which he beholds, he will cry out with the Psalmist, "Lord, who is hke to Thee?" I have spoken this with reference to the voluntary and superadded dissimilitude of the soul to her Creator. For the natural and original likeness still remains, and by its presence only renders the unlikeness more displeasing. Oh, how great a good is the former! How great an evil the latter! And they are greatly good and greatly evil even when separately considered. But when viewed together, their conjunction has the effect of rendering more apparent both the goodness of the one and the badness of the other.

When, therefore, the soul perceives within her single self qualities so widely differing from each other, placed, as she finds herself, between hope and despair, has she not reason to cry out, "Lord, who is like to Thee?" She is drawn towards despair by the consciousness of so much evil, but encouraged to hope by the possession of so great a good. Hence it is, my brethren, that the more she is disgusted with herself on account of the evil which she discovers within her, by so much the more ardently does she endeavour to conform herself to the good, viz., to the likeness to God, which she also beholds within her, and the more eagerly does she desire to become again such as she was originally made, *' simple and upright, and fearing God, and avoiding evil."Why should she not be able to abandon the evil which she has been able to embrace? And why should she not be able to embrace the good which she has been able to abandon? Nevertheless it has to be admitted that it is on the grace of God she must depend for the power both to avoid evil and to do good, not on nature or on human industry. For, as we read, it is by wisdom alone, and not by natural force or by our own efforts, that malice can be resisted. However there is not wanting to her a reason for presuming that this grace or wisdom shall be given her, because *' her turning is towards" the Word. That noble affinity which connects her with the Divine Word (which I have now been three days discussing) and that likeness which endures as a witness to the relationship between them are not without influence to conciliate His favour. He graciously admits to the society of His Spirit one who so closely resembles Him in nature. Indeed, it is the law of nature that like should seek its like. And hear how He even calls after her, "Return, return, O Sulamitess: return that We may behold thee." He will look with complacency upon her now when she is made like to Him, whereas when she was unlike He took no notice of her at all. And not only will He look upon her, but He will also allow her to look upon Him. "We know," says the Evangelist, "that when He shall appear, we shall be like Him; because we shall see Him as He is." In my opinion, therefore, it is a difficulty rather than an impossibility that is implied in the Prophet's question, "Who is like to God"? Or perhaps you would prefer to hear it called a cry of admiration. For admirable and astounding that likeness assuredly is which brings with it the vision of God, yea, which is itself the vision of God. But I am speaking of the likeness and the vision which are one and the same with charity. For that likeness is charity and charity too is that vision. Who does not stand amazed. at beholding the charity of God despised and yet recalling the soul that has spurned it? Well, therefore, did that "wicked one," whom I referred to a while ago, deserve the reproach addressed f

484 r" ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS to him for claiming a likeness to God, although he could not love either himself or God. For so we read: "He that loveth iniquity hateth his own soul." But let him remove from his soul the iniquity which forms in her a partial unlikeness to the Word, and then there shall be unity of spirit, there shall be mutual vision, there shall be mutual love. For as the Apostle says, "When that which is perfect shall come, that which is in part shall be done away." The Word and the soul shall love each other with a pure and perfect love, they shall know each other fully, they shall behold each other clearly, they shall be united to each other firmly, they shall live together inseparably, they shall be like each other absolutely. Then the soul shall know even as she is known; then she shall love even as she is loved; and over His Bride shall rejoice the Bridegroom, knowing and known, loving and beloved, Jesus Christ Our Lord, Who is over all things, God blessed for ever. Amen.

Footnotes

1. The Saint is here referring to himself, after the manner of St. Paul (2 Cor. xii. 2). — (Translator.) ↩

2. "Existimasti inique quod ero tui similis" (Ps. xlix. 21). St. Bernard takes the word "inique" to be the vocative of the adjective, whilst the Douay Translators render it as an adverb: "Thou thoughtest unjustly, etc.," which is certainly more in accord with the Greek: vneXaes dvofxiav on k.t.X. — (Translator). ↩