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Some
Exclamations
by St. Bernard of Clairvaux
Bernard's Appeal
I am no longer able to veil my grief, to
suppress my anxiety, to dissemble my sorrow.
Therefore, contrary to the order of justice, I who
have been wounded am constrained to recall him who
hath wounded me; I, the despised, must seek after
him who hath despised me; after suffering injury, I
must offer satisfaction to him from whom the injury
has come; I must, in a word, entreat him who ought
rather to entreat me. But grief does not
deliberate, it knows no shame, it does not consult
reason, it does not fear any lowering of dignity,
does not conform itself to rule, does not submit
itself to sound judgment; it ignores method and
rule; the mind is wholly and only occupied with
this: to seek to be rid of what it pains it to
have, or to gain what it grieves it to want. I am
wretched because I miss thee, because I do not see
thee, because I live without thee, for whom to die
would be to me life, to live without whom is to
die! Only come back, and all will be peace. Return,
and I shall be at rest. Return, I say: return! and
I shall joyfully sing, "He that was dead is alive
again; he was lost, and is found." No doubt it may
have been my fault that you departed. I must have
appeared severe to so delicate a youth, and in my
own hardness have treated thy tenderness too
harshly. What I say, my son, I do not say to
confound thee, but to admonish my most dear boy;
for though thou mayest have many teachers in
Christ, thou has not many fathers. If thou wilt
permit me to say so, I myself have brought thee
forth into the life of religion, by instruction and
example. How can it please thee that another should
glory in thee who has in no way labored for
thee?
St. Bernard's Hymn
- Jesu, the very thought of thee
- With sweetness fills the breast;
- But sweeter far Thy face to see
- And in Thy presence rest.
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- No voice can sing, no heart can frame,
- Nor can the memory find,
- A sweeter sound than Jesus' name,
- The Saviour of mankind.
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- O hope of every contrite heart,
- O joy of all the meek,
- To those who fall how kind Thou art!
- How good to those who seek!
-
- But what to those who find! Ah this
- Nor tongue nor pen can show;
- The love of Jesus, what it is
- None but His lov'd ones know.
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- Jesu our only joy be Thou,
- As Thou our prize wilt be
- In Thee be all our glory now,
- And through eternity.
My Enemies
The world lays close siege, and my five senses
are the avenues by which it enters and attacks me.
They give free passage to the fatal darts, and here
death makes its approaches to my heart. My eye
gazes about, and by admitting variety of engaging
subjects, draws off my attention from the one thing
necessary. The ear is open to pleasing sounds, and
these disturb the mind in its meditations. The
smell amuses, and obstructs serious thinking. The
tongue is lavish in speech, and lets itself loose
in flattery and falsehood. The touch kindles impure
fires, takes every slight occasion to defile itself
with lust, and unless the first motions be
carefully guarded, and resolutely rejected, it
seizes, vanquishes, and inflames the whole body:
the steps by which it advances in this conquest
are, first to tickle the imagination with unclean
thoughts, then to pollute the mind with unlawful
delight, and at last to subdue the reason by
consenting to wicked inclinations. Lastly, the
devil bends his bow, and makes ready his arrows
within the quiver.
Excerpted from Lectures on
Bernard, by R.S. Storr and Meditations of
St. Bernard
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The
Mystical Theology of Saint Bernard, by Etienne
Gilson
Bernard
of Clairvaux, by Jean LeClercq
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