Chapter XIII
THE MYSTICAL ARK
cherubim mentioned above. Surely this is that sufficiently worthy material of which the angelic form and winged animals must be forged. We form the cherubim for ourselves from this material when we accustom ourselves to draw into contemplation the secrets of our faith, which we have either learned by a showing or received from theologians, and also when we accustom ourselves to suspend our soul in wonder at them and to feed, humiliate and inflame it greatly with longing for divine things. Following the example of Abraham and Elijah, we ought to await the coming of the Lord at the very exit of our habitation, and in the doorway as it were.
According to the divine pattern we ought to spread out the wings of our cherubim and hasten with quick steps of longings to meet the grace of a showing.
Chapter XIII That a holy and contemplative soul ought to be preparedfor receiving grace at every hour The holy soul and friend of the true Bridegroom ought always to thirst with great longing for the coming of her Beloved, being always prepared to run to the One who calls and to open to the One who knocks.
I say, the soul ought always to be anxious about this matter and to be found prepared, lest the One who comes suddenly and unexpectedly finds her less adorned and less splendidly dressed and lest He endure any of the trouble of a long period of waiting when shut out for a long time. Troublesome and very burdensome to one burning with desire are these words: "Command, command again; command, command again; wait, wait again; wait, wait again; a little here, a little there" (Isa. 28:10,
13). These surely are words of a lazy soul, a soul that is tepid, less careful and excessively ungrateful. For what can such a soul say when she is found in her sordidness, when she grieves that she has been caught off guard by an unexpected coming of the Lover and is ashamed to be found less adorned and less splendidly dressed? She says, "I certainly ought to have known beforehand about your coming so that I could receive you solemnly and run to meet you with all due swiftness in the way
RICHARD OF ST. VICTOR
in which I ought. In the future, therefore, announce your coming to me in advance and inform me beforehand of the hour of your coming by means of a messenger who comes in advance. And so, let a messenger run between, to teach me what you wish me to do.
I say, let an intermediary messenger run between us, to instruct me concerning individual things and teach me not only about my condition but even about your condition. Let him teach me how it is with you and what from me will be pleasing to you. And so:
Command and command again; announce and announce again.
It is not fitting for lovers not to know mutual pursuits and mutual longings for one another; nor does it suffice for a soul that is seething with burning desire to hear only once. Therefore
I beg you: Command and command again; command and command again."
Perhaps He greatly loves and burns greatly with desire for those things which He pursues so and seeks so urgently by an intermediary. Let us see, therefore, what He must do. Behold, according to His word, after messengers have been sent often and have been sent again, finally at last He follows after His messengers so that the soul may enjoy fully the desired embraces and may be caressed with mutual love. Behold now He stands before the door; behold now He knocks at the door. Behold the voice of your Beloved as He knocks: "Open to me my sister, my friend, my dove, my unstained one, for my head is full of dew, and the curls of my hair are full of the drops of the night" (Song of Songs 5:2). What,
I beg you; what, I say, does it profit that He sent messengers in advance, if He finds a closed door? But at the very least, why at the voice of the Beloved do you not spring up, open, bring in and fall into an embrace? She says, "I have stripped off my garment; how shall I put it on?
I have washed my feet, how shall I stain them?"
(Song of Songs 5:3). However, let Him wait a moment if He will, in order that I may receive Him. He knocks and demands to enter; you say: "Wait." Behold, He knocks again; you say: "Wait again."
And you say, "Why is it important if He waits a moment?" O how much I fear lest you draw this moment of time into a long time, until He passes by, turns away, and withdraws after He has been long and greatly wearied. Your voice and your too-late complaint show this to Him: "I opened the bolt of my door to my beloved; and He has turned away and passed by" (Song of Songs 5:6). But behold
THE MYSTICAL ARK
the One who comes again, who does not reckon the injury of the earHer contempt: He stands behind the wall, looking through the windows, gazing through the lattices. Hear Him calling; receive as you wish the One who knocks. Lo, your Beloved is speaking to you: "Arise my friend, my love, my beautiful one; be quick and come" (Song of Songs 2:10). Why do you not immediately spring forth, run, grasp and unite with a kiss? Why do you still say, "Wait"? Behold, He still waits. Behold He calls again: "Arise my friend, my spouse; come into the opening of the rock, into the grotto of the wall" (Song of Songs 2:13-14). Why do you say, "Wait again, yet a little while"? O ungrateful soul, O hard heart!
Do you continually cast down your friend? Do you continually weary your Beloved? He knocks, and you do not wish to open. He calls, and you do not wish to go out. He knocks once and then again, and you command Him to wait and to wait again; a moment and a moment. He calls once; He calls again.
Nevertheless you force Him to wait and to wait again, a moment and a moment. A moment in one place and a moment in another; a moment here, a moment there. And so, your Beloved is forced very often to do what you say, a moment and a moment. For you draw a moment and a moment into a longer and longer time. In this way you cheat your friend and weary your Beloved. O how much better, O how much more right it would be for you to keep watch before the door, so that with Abraham and Elijah you might await the coming of your Beloved, run to Him when He comes, and receive Him with rejoicing. Surely as the dove of your Beloved, being supported by wings in the opening of a rock, in the grotto of a wall, you ought to have looked outside with an outstretched neck, seeking and awaiting the advent of your only One with the kind of song and sighing that a dove makes. But perhaps our cherubim still do not have wings, or if they have them they have not yet stretched them out.
Perhaps we have not yet fully formed our work nor yet completed that angelic form in its wholeness according to the Lord's declaration.