The Cistercian Way of Life
The Cistercian Way of Life Bernard had heard the word of Jesus, 'Follow me'. For him it was to be by way of the monastic/Cistercian life; there was never to be any other way. And he drew many to follow Christ at Clairvaux, which he regarded, like the Church, as an earthly Jerusalem linked to the Holy City in heaven. In spite of his absences on the business of the Church his heart was rooted at Clairvaux — he was always a monk and thought as a monk. The monastic yoke of Christ was a light burden which even carried those on whom it was laid. It was a service of joy and gladness, which could not be explained in words or learnt in books: the knowledge came from experience.
Bernard was an excellent psychologist, aware of all the twists and turns of human nature, and through a deep self-knowledge and knowledge of others, he became a compassionate and merciful guide for his monks. He understood thoroughly that in the struggle with our faults and failings, we need more than our own human resources.
Our good works are done not only for God, but by God working in partnership with us.
The Cistercian Way Our way of life is an awareness of our need. It is humility, it is poverty freely accepted, obedience, and joy in the Holy
Spirit. Our way of life means learning to be silent, exerting ourselves in fasts, vigils, prayers. It means working with our hands, and above all clinging to that most excellent way which is love. It means furthermore to advance day by day in these things, and to persevere in them.
I trust that this is what you are busily doing. There is one thing you have done at which everyone marvels. It is that, although your lives were holy, you thought nothing of this but made it your business to share the holy lives of others that yours might become yet more holy. It is so rare that anyone leading a good life is ready to do this, that when it happens everyone admires it.
The Cistercian family welcomed you with open arms, and the angels looked down upon you with smiling faces. They know very well that what pleases God more than anything is brotherly concord and unity, since the prophet says: 'Gracious is the sight and full of comfort, when brothers dwell together in unity'; and again: 'When brother helps brother, theirs is the strength of a fortress.'
Monastic Life: a Second Baptism You have also asked my opinion on monastic profession considered as a second baptism. Why has our way of life rather than other penitential callings merited to be called this?
I think it is because of the more perfect renouncement of the world and the special excellence of such a spiritual way of life. For it restores the divine image in the soul and makes us Christ-like, much as baptism does. It is also like another baptism in that we mortify the earthly side of our nature, so that we may be more and more clothed with Christ, being thus again 'buried in the likeness of his death'. Just as in baptism we are delivered from the power of darkness and carried over into the kingdom of light, so likewise in the second regeneration of this holy profession we are refashioned in the light of virtue, being delivered, not now from the unique darkness of original sin, but from many actual sins.
To the Parents of a Novice If God is making your son his own, as well as yours, so that he may become even richer, even more noble, even more distinguished and, what is better than all this, so that from being a sinner he may become a saint, what do either you or he lose? But he must prepare himself for the kingdom which has been prepared for him from the beginning of the world...
Knowing that he is tender and delicate perhaps you are afraid for his health under the harshness of our life.
. Have comfort, do not worry, I shall look after him like a father and he will be to me a son until the Father of mercies, the God of all consolation, shall receive him from my hands. Do not be sad about your Geoffrey or shed any tears on his account, for he is going quickly to joy and not to sorrow.
I will be for him both a mother and a father, both a brother and a sister. I will make the crooked path straight for him and the rough places smooth. I will temper and arrange all things that his soul may advance and his body not suffer. He will serve the Lord with joy and gladness, 'his song will be of the Lord's, for great is the glory of the Lord'.
Christ's Yoke is Easy It is pleasant to admire the lightness of the burden of Truth.
And indeed it is really light for not only is it no burden for the man who carries it, but it even carries him! And what can be lighter than a burden which not only does not burden, but even carries him on whom it is laid?
This is the burden which the Virgin bore and by which she was borne and not burdened. This is the burden which supported the very arms of the old Simeon who bore it in his arms. And this is what snatched Paul up to the third heaven, even when he was weighed down by the corruptible body.
When I look for an example to illustrate this disburdening burden, nothing occurs to me more apt than the wings of a bird, for they, in an extraordinary way render the body both greater and yet more nimble. What a wonderful thing that a body should be made lighter by its very increase in size, so that the more it increases in bulk the more it decreases in weight. Here we have a clear illustration of the sweet burden of Christ which carries those who carry it.
To Henry Murdac What wonder if you are tossed about between prosperity and adversity since you have not yet gained a foothold on the rock. Oh, if only you knew, if only I could explain to you!
If you could but, taste for a moment the full ears of corn on which Jerusalem feasts.
If I could but have you as my fellow in the school of piety of which Jesus is the master! How gladly would I share with you the warm loaves which, still piping hot, fresh, as it were, from the oven, Christ of his heavenly bounty so often breaks with his poor!
Believe me who have experience, you will find much more when labouring among woods than you ever will amongst books. Woods and stones will teach you what you can never hear from any master. Do you imagine you cannot suck honey from the rocks and oil from the hardest stone; that the mountains do not drop sweetness and the hills flow with milk and honey; that the valleys are not filled with corn? So many things occur to me that I cannot restrain myself. But as it is for prayers and not a sermon that you have asked me,
I will pray God that he may open your heart. Farewell.
Clairvaux I write to tell you that your Philip has found a short cut to Jerusalem. Even now he stands in the courts of Jerusalem.
He has entered the holy city and has chosen his heritage with them of whom it has been said: 'You are no longer exiles or aliens; the saints are your fellow citizens, you belong to God's household.' His going and coming is in their company and he has become one of them, glorifying God and saying with them: 'We find our true home in heaven'. He is no longer an inquisitive onlooker, but a devout inhabitant and an enrolled citizen of Jerusalem; not of that earthly Jerusalem to which Mount Sinai in Arabia is joined, but of that free Jerusalem which is above and is the mother of us all.
And this if you want to know, is Clairvaux. She is the Jerusalem united to the one in heaven by wholehearted devotion, by conformity of life, and by a certain spiritual affinity.
Here, Philip promises himself, will be his rest for ever and ever. He has chosen to dwell here because he has found, not yet, the fulness of vision, but certainly the hope of that true peace, 'the peace of God which surpasses all our understanding'.
To Aelred of Rievaulx I have besought you, I have commanded you to write some little thing for me. You have said that you are ignorant of grammar, that you have come to the desert not from the schools but from the kitchen. That you have since, lived a rustic and rough life amidst rock and mountains, earning in the sweat of your brow your daily bread with axe and maul; and that flights of oratory ill become your poor fisherman's clothes.
I most gratefully accept your excuses, because knowledge that comes from the school of the Holy Spirit rather than the schools of rhetoric will savour all the sweeter to me.
I think that with that maul of yours you will be able to strike something out of those rocks that you have not got by your own wits from the book shelves of the schoolmen, and that you will have experiencéd sometimes under the shade of a tree during the heats of midday what you would never have learned in the schools.
I therefore order you to write down those thoughts that have occurred to you, concerning charity, its fruit, and its proper order, so that we may see as if in a mirror what charity is.
To Abbot Rainald I warned you of the very ills which you declare have befallen you, and you should have been forearmed against what was foreknown so as to have endured them with a lighter heartt}<s This is the burden of souls that are sick, for those that are well do not need to be carried and so are no burden. You must understand that you are especially Abbot of the sad, fainthearted and discontented among your flock. It is by consoling, encouraging and admonishing them that you do your duty and carry your burden and, by carrying your burden, heal those you carry.
If there is anyone so spiritually healthy that he rather helps than is helped by you, you are not so much his Father as his equal, not so much his Abbot as his fellow. Why then do you complain that you find the company of some of those who are with you more of a burden than a comfort?
You were given them as Abbot not to be comforted but to comfort, because you were the strongest of them all, and by God's grace, able to comfort them all without needing to be comforted by any. The greater your burden, the greater will be your gain; the easier your lot, the less your reward.
Giving Thanks for God's Help In the daily trials and combats arising from the flesh the world and the devil, that are never wanting to those who live devout lives in Christ, you learn by what you experience that man's life on earth is a ceaseless warfare. As often as temptation is overcome, an immoral habit brought under control, an impending danger shunned, the trap of the seducer detected, or when a passion long indulged is finally and perfectly allayed, or a virtue desired and repeatedly sought is ultimately obtained by God's gift, then, in the words of the prophet, 'let thanksgiving and joy resound.'
For every benefit conferred, God is to be praised in his gifts.
Otherwise when the time of judgement comes that person will be punished as someone ungrateful who cannot say to God: 'Your statutes were my song in the land of exile.'
Dedication of a Monastic Church My Brethren, we ought to observe today's festivity all the more devoutly for the reason that it is so specially our own.
All the other sacred solemnities which we keep are common to us and the faithful in general. But this is so special to ourselves that if we do not keep it, it will not be kept at all.
It is our own feast, because it is the feast of the dedication of our own church.
It is still more our own because it is the feast of our own selves. For what holiness can belong to these dead walls on account of which they should be honoured with a religious solemnity? They are undoubtedly holy, but it is because of your bodies, since they are 'the temples of the Holy Spirit'.
Consequently, your souls are sanctified because of the Spirit of God who is in you, your bodies are sanctified because of your souls, and this house is sanctified also because of your bodies.
Many among you have manfully forsaken their vices and sins, and now they offer a stout resistance to the enemy's daily onslaughts; these activities of the spiritual life manifest the indwelling of the Spirit, which is revealed in the practice of charity and the other virtues.
Against Detractors It has come to my notice that there are some members of our Order who are speaking unfavourably of other Orders, contrary to what the Apostle said, 'Do not pass judgement, before the coming of the Lord'. Who are you to pass judgement on another's servant? Who made you their judges? You glory in the Rule, yet you yourselves do not keep it. The Rule itself has to accord with both Gospel and Apostle, otherwise it would be no Rule at all, since it would be itself untrue.
You hypocrite! First remove the log from your own eye. Do you wish to know to which log I am referring? It is the long, large log of pride, which makes you think you are something when in fact you are nothing. You foolishly rejoice in your own soundness, and notwithstanding the log, you scoff at others because of their splinters. The man who shifts his gaze from himself, and is more interested in others' faults than in his own, will be wrenched back and made to take stock of himself; and it will serve him right.
The Kingdom of God is Within You You retort, 'How can these monks be said to keep the Rule?
They wear furs, and they eat meat and fat. Every day they have three or four different dishes, which the Rule forbids, and they leave out the manual work it enjoins. Many points of their Rule they modify or extend or leave out as they like.
This is so; no-one could deny it. But look at God's Rule with which St Benedict's regulations agree. It says: "The Kingdom of God is within you'. The Apostle says: 'It is not food and drink, but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit." And also, "The kingdom of God consists in power, not in word.' There are people who go clad in tunics and who have nothing to do with furs who, nevertheless, are lacking in humility. Surely humility in furs is better than pride in tunics.
We fill our stomachs with beans and our minds with pride.
We condemn rich food as though it were not better to take delicate fare in moderation than to bloat ourselves to belching point with vegetables. Remember that Esau was censured because of lentils, not meat, Adam was condemned for eating fruit not meat. oi
The Self-opinionated Monk And what greater pride is there than that one man should try to impose his opinion upon the whole community, as if he alone had the spirit of God? Indeed I am amazed at the impudence of some monks among us, who after they have upset the entire community with their own will, and have irritated us with theic impatience, condemned us with their rebelliousness and their bad tempers, desire to aspire, with most fervent prayers, to mystical union with the Lord of all purity.
The centurion begged the Lord not to enter under his roof because of his own unworthiness: and these men would compel the Lord to enter in to their dwelling though it is vile with the filth of such great vices?
"What would you have me do,' such a one will ask. I would first of all have you cleanse your conscience of every stain of anger and quarrelsomeness, of murmuring and bad temper.
Then hasten to drive out of your heart whatever goes against peace with your brethren of obedience to your superiors.
Then go and prepare yourself with good works, with praiseworthy thoughts, and the sweet-odour of virtues.
The Boaster His hunger and thirst are for listeners, someone to listen to his boasting, on whom he can pour out all his thoughts, someone he can show what a big man he is. At last the chance to speak comes. He brings forth from his treasury old things and new. He is not shy about producing his opinions; words are bubbling over. He does not wait to be asked. His information comes before any question. He asks the questions; gives the answers; cuts off anyone who tries to speak.
He may have the capacity to help others but that is the least of his concerns. His aim is not to teach you nor to be taught by you, but to show how much he knows. He warmly recommends fasting, urges watching and exalts prayer above all. He will give a long discourse on patience and humility and each of the other virtues — all words, all bragging. He trusts you will draw the conclusion: 'out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks'.
The talk takes a lighter turn. He is more in his element here and becomes really eloquent. If you hear him, you will say his mouth has become a fountain of wit, a river of smart talk. He can set the most grave and serious laughing heartily.
To say it briefly, when words are many, boasting is not lacking.
Making Excuses There are many ways of excusing sins. One will say: 'I didn't do it.' Another: 'I did it, but I was perfectly right in doing it." If it was wrong he may say: 'It isn't all that bad.' If it was decidedly harmful, he can fall back on: 'I meant well.'
If the bad intention is too evident he will take refuge in the excuses of Adam and Eve and say someone else led him into it. If a man defends his obvious sins like that, he is hardly likely to fulfil the fifth degree of humility in St Benedict's
Rule and 'make known to his Abbot by humble confession the evil thoughts of his heart and the sins he has committed in secret'.
On the Death of Archbishop Malachy at Clairvaux Dear sons, I feel the deepest compassion for the Irish Church in her great bereavement, and my sympathy for you is all the greater for my realisation of the debt I owe you. The Lord has highly honoured our place with the blessed death of Malachy and enriching it with the treasure of his body.
Do not take it ill that he should have his tomb with us, since God out of his abundant mercy has so ordained it that you should have him while he lived and we when he was dead.
For both you and us he was a common father, and still is, for this was the wish he expressed to us on his deathbed.
Wherefore we embrace you all with deep affection as our true brothers for the sake of this great father of ours.
I exhort you, my brethren, to follow carefully in the footsteps of our father, knowing from daily experience his holy way of life. You will prove yourselves his true sons by manfully keeping his teaching. And as you saw in him a pattern of how you ought to live, live by that pattern, and make more of it than ever.
Even I have been stirred from my sloth and imbued with reverence by the pattern of perfection he set before me. May he so draw me after him that I may run eagerly in the fragrance of his virtues.
On the Death of his Brother Gerard O, Gerard, what a harvest of joys, what a profusion of blessings is yours. In place of my insignificant person you have the abiding presence of Christ. You have no cause to complain that we have been cut off from you, favoured as you are by the constant presence of the Lord of Majesty and of his heavenly friends. But what do I have in your stead?
How I long to know what you think about me, once so uniquely yours, as I sink beneath the weight of cares and afflictions, deprived of the support you lent to my feebleness!
Perhaps you still give thought to our needs now that you have plunged into that sea of endless happiness.
But God is love and the deeper one's union with him, the more full one is of love. Your love has not been diminished but only changed; when you were clothed with God you did not divest yourself of concern for us, for God is certainly concerned about us. All that smacks of weakness you have cast away, but not what pertains to love. And since love never comes to an end, you will not forget me for ever.
Living for God Alone Today, my Brothers, you shall hear something concerning the promise of the Father, the reward of our labour, and the fruit of our captivity. Hard indeed is our captivity, not only that which we endure in common with other men, and which is the general condition of the human race; but also that whereby, in order the more effectually to mortify our wills and to lose our lives in this world, we have bound ourselves by so strict a Rule and such asceticism. Surely a wretched bondage, yet only so if suffered against our will, instead of by free choice.
As it is, however, we have freely offered our liberty to God, and there is no other violence done to our own will than that which comes from the will itself. There must be some cause for this. Indeed there is, my Brothers, and a cause than which none greater can be conceived. I mean the love of God.
All our good works are done not only for God, but also by God. He is the Author of the good we do, just as he is its
Rewarder and its whole Recompense. Is it not by him that we overcome? Yes. For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so also by Christ does our comfort abound.
Learn to be Merciful If Christ submitted himself to human misery so that he might not simply know of it, but experience it as well, how much more ought you not to make any change in your condition, but pay attention to what you are, because you are truly full of misery. This is the only way, if you are to become merciful. If you have eyes for the shortcomings of your neighbour and not for your own, no feeling of mercy will arise in you but rather indignation.
You will be more ready to judge than to help, to crush in the spirit of anger than to instruct in the spirit of gentleness.
"You who are spiritual, instruct such a one in the spirit of gentleness,' says the Apostle. His counsel, or rather, his precept, is that you should treat an ailing brother with the same spirit of gentleness with which you would like to be treated yourself in your weakness.
He shows then how to find out the right way to apply this spirit of gentleness: 'Considering yourself lest you also be tempted.'