An Abbot to Hildegard
The Letters
comes, his lord says to him: Go to the field and seek the fruit among the flowers, which sometimes flourish and sometimes dry up. But he finds nothing there.
Hear: The vineyard is the priestly office. He who holds the rod of correction over a recalcitrant people has a rocky field. And when he grows weary, he says to himself: This life doesn't suit me; that life is better for me. And so because he has such thoughts, he abandons his charge immediately, just like a flower that dries up. But if you were to act like this, you would have to be addressed in the same way as that steward who was criticized before his master for his stewardship. And when he considered that he was about to be discharged, he reduced the debt of everyone who owed his master. Therefore, his lord said to him: "The children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light"
[Luke 16.8].
The first angel fell and refused to sigh in penitence, and would not permit the others to sigh either. But a priest should raise himself up and hasten to help others. Now, take the wise course: see to these things, and remain with the sons of this world, because if you act in accordance with the thoughts that are flying in you, you will be deficient in each part, and you will remember in penitence how you failed. But remain with your people and do not desert them, so that you may live in eternity.
Haina(?)
An Abbot to Hildegard Before 1170 Threatened by ills of both body and soul, as he says, the abbot seeks to have the yoke of his duties removed, and thus seeks Hildegard's advice.
To Hildegard, beloved of God and venerable mistress of the sisters of St. Rupert in Bingen, W., administrator of the brothers in Haina, although unworthy, wishing her the gift of knowledge and wisdom, and the reward for perpetual chastity.
When I first heard of your fame, holy lady, I hastened to send a letter to you. But whether it ever arrived in your presence or not, I have no idea, and so I keep sending new ones until I am sure one gets through to you. And so now in this letter, poor and needy as I am, I rush to the riches of your prayers, because
I do not know what gifts I have received from the Almighty other than the form of a man. My sight is cloudy, my hearing obstructed, my tongue afflicted by slowness of speech. I do not raise up divine praises as I should because, in my devotion, I am halting in both speech and mind. I am dull-witted and absentminded.
My soul is puffed up with pride, set ablaze by ire, bound in by sadness, cast down by sloth, and is continually confounded by cowardice and shame.