Song of Solomon 2

He says himself, "I am a flower of the field, a lily of the valleys, as a lily among brambles." Consider, then, another place in which the Lord likes to reside, and not only one place but many. He says, "I am a flower of the field," because he often visits the open simplicity of a pure mind;"and the lily of the valleys," for Christ is the bloom of lowliness, not of luxury, voluptuousness, of lasciviousness, but the flower of simplicity and lowliness. "A lily among brambles" as the flower of a good odor is sure to grow in the midst of hard labors and heartfelt sorrow (since God is pleased with a contrite heart).

The Bridegroom, then, is a lily, but not a lily among thorns, since he has no thorns who committed no sin. Indeed he declared the bride to be a lily among thorns; since even she, if she should say that she has no thorns, deceives herself, and the truth is not in her. But he professed himself indeed a flower and a lily, yet not among thorns. Rather he says: "I am the flower of the field and the lily of the valleys" (Song 2:1-2). And there is no mention of thorns, because he alone among men has no need to say: "I was turned in my affliction, while the thorn was fastened in me" (Ps 31:4). Therefore he is never without lilies, who is always without vices; because he is wholly and always radiant, beautiful in form beyond the sons of men (Ps 44:3). You therefore who hear or read these things, take care to have lilies in your possession, if you wish to have this dweller among lilies dwelling in you.

"I am the flower of the field, and the lily of the valleys" (Song 2:1). I think this looks back to what the bride had commended concerning the little bed sprinkled with flowers. For lest she should ascribe to herself those flowers, by which the little bed appeared adorned and the bridal chamber beautified, the Bridegroom declares that he is the flower of the field; and that the flowers do not come forth from the bridal chamber, but from the field; and that by his gift and by participation in him is produced what shines and what gives fragrance. Lest therefore anyone should be able to reproach her and say: "What do you have that you have not received? And if you have received it, why do you glory as if you had not received it?" (1 Cor 4:7), he himself, as much an eager lover as a kind instructor of his beloved, piously and graciously shows her to whom she ought to attribute the splendor, about which she was glorying, and the sweet fragrance of the little bed. "I am the flower of the field," he says: from me is that in which you glory. Most wholesomely are we admonished also from this passage, that we ought by no means to glory: "and if anyone glories, let him glory in the Lord" (2 Cor 10:17). And this according to the letter: now let us examine, with the help of him of whom it speaks, the spiritual understanding that lies hidden therein.

And first observe for me now a certain threefold state of the flower: in the field, in the garden, in the bridal chamber; so that after this it may also more easily become clear why he chose above all to call himself the flower of the field. And in the field indeed and in the garden the flower springs up, but in the bridal chamber by no means. It gives fragrance and shines there, yet not standing erect, as in the garden or field; but plainly lying down, as one that has been brought in, not born there. And therefore it is indeed necessary to renew them frequently, and always to set out fresher flowers, because they do not long retain their fragrance or their beauty. But if, as I said in another sermon, the little bed sprinkled with flowers is the conscience filled with good works; you see certainly, that the likeness may be preserved, that it by no means suffices to do what is good once or twice, unless you ceaselessly add new things to the former, so that sowing in blessings, you may also reap from blessings. Otherwise the flower of the good work lies down and withers, and in a short time all splendor and vigor is destroyed from it, if it is not continually renewed by other and yet other acts of piety cast upon it. This is so in the bridal chamber.

In the garden however it is not so: but neither in the field similarly. For from themselves, having once produced flowers, they continually supply that whereby the inborn beauty may long persevere in them. Yet they also differ among themselves, in that the garden indeed, in order to flower, is cultivated by the hand and art of men: but the field naturally produces flowers of itself, and without any aid of human diligence. Do you think you now seem to yourself to perceive who that field is, neither furrowed by the ploughshare, nor dug up by the hoe, nor fattened with dung, nor sown by the hand of man; yet nevertheless adorned with that noble flower, upon whom the Spirit of the Lord is known to have rested? "Behold," he says, "the smell of my son is as the smell of a field full, which the Lord has blessed" (Gen 27:27). That flower of the field had not yet put on his beauty, and already he was giving forth his fragrance, when the holy and aged Patriarch, feeble in body, dim of sight, but keen of smell, perceived him in spirit, so as to cry out this for joy. He ought not therefore to have declared himself a flower of the bridal chamber, he who is a flower perpetually vigorous: but neither likewise of the garden, lest he should seem to have been produced by human work. But beautifully and most fittingly, "I am the flower of the field," he says, who both came forth without human effort, and once having come forth, no corruption thereafter had dominion over him, that the word which he spoke might be fulfilled: "You will not give your Holy One to see corruption" (Ps 16:10).

But, if it please you, receive also another reason for this matter, not to be despised, as I judge. For not without cause is the manifold spirit described by the Wise Man, except that beneath one rind of the letter it is accustomed to conceal frequently diverse understandings of wisdom. And so according to the aforesaid division concerning the state of the flower, virginity is a flower, martyrdom is a flower, a good work is a flower. Virginity in the garden, martyrdom in the field, good work in the bridal chamber. And well is virginity in the garden, to which modesty is familiar, shunning the public, rejoicing in hiding places, enduring discipline. For the flower is enclosed in a garden, which in the field is exposed and in the bridal chamber is scattered. And you have: "A garden enclosed, a fountain sealed" (Song 4:12). Which indeed signifies the enclosure of modesty in the virgin, and the guarding of inviolate sanctity: if nevertheless she be such a one as is holy both in body and in spirit. Well likewise is martyrdom in the field, since martyrs are exposed to the mockery of all, made a spectacle both to angels and to men. Is not their pitiable voice in the psalm: "We have been made a reproach to our neighbors, a derision and a mockery to those who are round about us" (Ps 79:4)? Well also is the good work in the bridal chamber, which makes the conscience both tranquil and secure. For after a good work one sleeps more securely in contemplation, and with that much more confidence does one undertake to gaze upon and investigate sublime things, the more one is conscious that one has by no means failed in works of charity out of love for one's own rest.

And all these things in a certain respect is the Lord Jesus. He is the flower of the garden, a virgin, the rod generated from a virgin. He is likewise the flower of the field, a martyr, the crown of martyrs, the pattern of martyrdom. For he was led forth outside the city, he suffered outside the camp, he was raised up on the wood, to be gazed upon by men, to be mocked by all. He is likewise the flower of the bridal chamber, the mirror and exemplar of all beneficence, as he himself declared to the Jews, saying: "Many good works have I shown you from my Father" (Jn 10:32); and likewise Scripture concerning him: "Who went about," it says, "doing good and healing all" (Acts 10:38). If therefore the Lord is these three things, what was the reason that out of the three he preferred to call himself the flower of the field? Assuredly in order that he might animate to endurance her whom he knew would have to suffer persecution, if indeed she wished to live piously in Christ. He therefore more willingly professes himself to be that to which he above all wishes to have a follower; and this is what I said on another occasion, that she always desires rest, and he urges her to labor, announcing to her that "through many tribulations it is necessary to enter into the kingdom of heaven" (Acts 14:22). Whence, when the new Church on earth, newly espoused to him, he was arranging to return to the Father, he said to her: "The hour comes when everyone who kills you will think he is offering service to God" (Jn 16:2); likewise: "If they have persecuted me," he says, "they will also persecute you" (Jn 15:20). You can also gather many similar announcements of evils to be endured in the Gospel.

"I am the flower of the field and the lily of the valleys." While she therefore points to the little bed, he calls to the field, he provokes to exercise. He does not think anything will be more persuasive to her for entering the contest than if he should set forth himself as either the example or the reward of the one contending. "I am the flower of the field." Indeed either meaning is given to be understood in this speech: either that he is the pattern of the one fighting, or the glory of the one triumphing. You are both to me, Lord Jesus, both the mirror of suffering and the reward of the one who suffers. Both strongly provoke and vehemently kindle. You teach my hands to fight by the example of your valor; you crown my head after victory by the presence of your majesty; whether because I behold you fighting, or because I await you not only crowning but also as the crown: in both you wonderfully draw me to yourself; each is a most violent cord for drawing. "Draw me after you": gladly I follow you, more gladly I enjoy you. If you are so good, Lord, to those following you, what will you be to those who attain you? "I am the flower of the field." He who loves me, let him come into the field, let him not refuse to enter the contest with me and for me, that he may be able to say: "I have fought the good fight" (2 Tim 4:7).

And since it is not the proud or arrogant, but rather the humble, who do not know how to presume of themselves, that are fit for martyrdom, he adds that he is also the lily of the valleys, that is, the crown of the humble, designating by the eminence of this flower the special glory of their future exaltation. For there will come a time when "every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be brought low" (Isa 40:4): and then that whiteness of eternal life, plainly a lily not of the hills but of the valleys, shall appear. "The just shall spring up as a lily," it says (Hos 14:5). Who is just, if not the humble? For when the Lord bowed himself to the hands of the Baptist, his servant, and he was terrified at the majesty, "Permit it," he said; "for thus it befits us to fulfill all justice" (Mt 3:15), establishing the consummation of justice in the perfection of humility. The just man therefore is the humble, the just man is the valley. And if we shall be found humble, we too shall spring up as the lily, and we shall flourish forever before the Lord. Or does he not truly and then especially prove himself the lily of the valleys, when "he shall reform the body of our humility, made conformable to the body of his glory" (Phil 3:21)? He does not say "our body," but "the body of our humility": so that by the wondrous and everlasting whiteness of this lily he signifies that the humble alone shall be illumined. And let these things be said on account of what the Bridegroom declared himself to be the flower of the field and the lily of the valleys.

The justified here begins to praise herself and says, "I am the flower of the field" because she was not spread abroad throughout the earth. For, behold, I am a flower to all men through faith in you.

This flower has become fruit that we might eat it, that we might consume its flesh. Would you like to know what this fruit is? A Virgin from a virgin, the Lord from the handmaid, God from man, Son from mother, fruit from earth. Listen to what the fruit itself says: "Unless the grain of wheat fall into the ground and die, it cannot bring forth much fruit."

[Christ] himself says in the Song of Songs, "I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valley." Our rose is the destruction of death, and [that rose] died that death itself might die in his dying.

It is necessary to understand that the valleys where the bride is a lily, as she is called, are comparable to these ravines. For in distinguishing herself in the midst of that which is called "hollow" by reason of actions or thoughts that are base, she who is adorned magnificently stands resplendent among them as a lily. It is also because at the age to come she is going to pass judgment on such souls by comparison with the perfection of her own deeds even though by nature she holds no advantage over them, just as the inhabitants of Nineveh and the Queen of the South pass judgment upon a generation that is faithless. Besides the fact that she became as a lily in the valleys where nothing was possible before, these valleys may have begun to bear fruit out of envy for the beauty of her flower, receiving seeds from the sower who went out to sow, … like a land rich and good that causes the seed to multiply. …If the valleys, because they are low, fallow and many in number, designate the Gentiles who have come to knowledge after being in the depths of impiety, then the field may designate Israel made level by the teachings of the prophets and the law in order to be ready for cultivation.… For the plow of the cross has not yet opened up the earth: that plow to which the Savior has yoked the apostles like oxen in sending them out to cultivate two-by-two. Nor has the land yet been moistened by the blood of the Savior, being sterile and infertile.

Well does Christ call himself a flower, who, while he destroys the thorns of sins, adorns the mind of the bride with the beauty of his righteousness, and while he applies heavenly desire to the nostrils of the heart, refreshes the interior of the soul as if with fragrance.

I was "a flower of the countryside," that is, I assumed an earthly body and sprang from the earth, being eternal and exalted or, rather, immeasurable. I became "a lily" not of mountains or hills, or simply of the countryside, but of "valleys": I brought not only the good news of salvation to the living but also resurrection to the dead, descending to the lower parts of the earth to fill everything. This is the reason he calls himself "a flower of the countryside, a lily of the valleys," that is, the dead: to them he both promised and brought into effect a return to life.

"I am the flower of the field, and the lily of the valleys, as a lily among thorns." This is a plain declaration that virtues are surrounded by the thorns of spiritual wickedness, so that no one can gather the fruit who does not approach with caution.

But would you like to know what is said to this lady somewhere else, in the Song of Songs? "Like a lily in the midst of thorns, so is my darling in the midst of the daughters." An extraordinary saying—he called the same people both thorns and daughters. And do those thorns do mightily? They do indeed. Can't you see how these heresies too pray, fast, give alms, praise Christ?

So also strange daughters: daughters, because of the form of godliness; strange, because of their loss of virtue. Be the lily there; let it receive the mercy of God: hold fast the root of a good flower, be not ungrateful for soft rain coming from heaven. Be thorns ungrateful, let them grow by the showers: for the fire they grow, not for the garner.

The Bridegroom, then, is a lily, but not a lily among thorns, since he has no thorns who committed no sin. Indeed he declared the bride to be a lily among thorns; since even she, if she should say that she has no thorns, deceives herself, and the truth is not in her. But he professed himself indeed a flower and a lily, yet not among thorns. Rather he says: "I am the flower of the field and the lily of the valleys" (Song 2:1-2). And there is no mention of thorns, because he alone among men has no need to say: "I was turned in my affliction, while the thorn was fastened in me" (Ps 31:4). Therefore he is never without lilies, who is always without vices; because he is wholly and always radiant, beautiful in form beyond the sons of men (Ps 44:3). You therefore who hear or read these things, take care to have lilies in your possession, if you wish to have this dweller among lilies dwelling in you.

"As the lily among thorns, so is my beloved among the daughters" (Song 2:2). Not good daughters who prick. Observe the most wretched offspring of that land of ours which was cursed. "When," he says, "you shall have cultivated it, it will bring forth thorns and thistles for you" (Gen 3:18). Therefore, as long as the soul is in the flesh, it dwells indeed among thorns; and it is necessary that it suffer the restlessness of temptations and the stings of tribulations. But if it is itself a lily according to the word of the Bridegroom, let it see how watchful and solicitous it ought to be over the guarding of itself, surrounded on all sides by thorns, extending their stings from every direction. For the tenderness of the flower in no way endures even the slightest prick of a thorn, but as soon as it is pressed even slightly, it is pierced. You perceive how rightly and necessarily the prophet exhorts us to serve the Lord in fear (Ps 2:11); and likewise the Apostle, to work out our own salvation with fear and no less trembling (Phil 2:12). They held assuredly by their own experience the truth of this judgment, inasmuch as they were friends of the Bridegroom, who in no way at all doubted that the words pertained to their own souls: "As the lily among thorns, so is my beloved among the daughters." Finally one of them says: "I was turned in my affliction, while the thorn was fastened in me" (Ps 31:4). Well fastened, he who was thereby turned. Well are you pricked, if you are pricked with compunction. Many, when they feel the punishment, correct the fault; and such a one can say: "I was turned in my affliction, while the thorn was fastened in me." A thorn is fault, a thorn is punishment, a thorn is a false brother, a thorn is an evil neighbor.

"As the lily among thorns, so is my beloved among the daughters." O gleaming lily! O tender and delicate flower! Unbelievers and subverters are with you: see how cautiously you walk among thorns. The world is full of thorns: they are in the earth, they are in the air, they are in your flesh. To dwell among these and not be harmed in the least belongs to divine power, not to your own virtue. "But be confident," he says, "because I have overcome the world" (Jn 16:33). Even if, therefore, you perceive the stings of tribulations, as of thistles, directed at you from every side, let not your heart be troubled nor let it fear, knowing that tribulation works patience, patience works proving, proving works hope, and hope does not confound (Rom 5:3-5). Consider the lilies of the field, how they flourish and shine among thorns. If God so guards the grass which today is and tomorrow is cast into the oven (Mt 6:28-30), how much more his beloved and most dear bride? Finally, "the Lord guards all who love him" (Ps 144:20). "As the lily among thorns, so is my beloved among the daughters." It is no small title of virtue indeed, to live as a good person among the depraved, and to retain the brightness of innocence and the gentleness of conduct among the malicious: and all the more if you show yourself peaceful to those who hate peace, and a friend to enemies themselves. This indeed will rightly claim for you the likeness given of the lily, by a certain right of special property, because it does not cease to illuminate and adorn with its own brightness the very thorns that prick it. Does not the lily seem to you thereby to fulfill in a certain way the perfection of the Gospel, by which we are commanded to pray for those who calumniate and persecute us, and to do good to those who hate us? (Lk 6:27-28.) Therefore do you likewise, and your soul will be a beloved of the Lord, and he will praise you concerning yourself, saying that "as the lily among thorns, so is my beloved among the daughters."

It is written of the church: "As a lily among thorns, so is my beloved among women."

For he was not good who refused to tolerate the evil. For hence it is that blessed Job asserts of himself, saying: I was a brother of dragons, and a companion of ostriches. Hence through Solomon it is said in the voice of the bridegroom to holy Church: As a lily among thorns, so is my beloved among the daughters.

Well, just as the lily among thorns, so the bride is said to be among the daughters; because while there are many in the Church who confess Christ with words alone, yet in their works pursue nothing but human concerns, that soul alone is counted worthy of the lily's dignity which rises from the root of mortality to heavenly beauty, and guards for itself the brightness of purity in heart and body, and refreshes all its neighbors with the fragrance of a good reputation. But because the Bridegroom held his bride worthy of such great praise, she now in turn rightly praises him by whom she perceives herself to be praised.

The Church, following this ever-flourishing greenness of grace in Christ, says: "In his shadow I desired, and I sat." The Apostles also received this privilege of the evergreen gift, not a leaf of theirs could ever fall, so that even their shadow could heal the sick. For the weaknesses of the body overshadow the faith of the mind, and the flourishing merits of virtues.

"As an apple tree among the trees of the woods, so is my beloved among young men." And seeing this, the church is glad and rejoices, saying with great delight, "I sat in his shadow, and his fruit was sweet to my taste."

"As an apple tree among the trees of the forest, etc." This is what the Psalmist speaks of, "For who in the clouds can be compared to the Lord? Or who is like God among the sons of God?" (Psalm 88). Just as the apple tree, which is pleasing to sight, smell, and taste, tends to surpass the wild trees, so does the man God rightfully surpass all who are pure men among the saints; and the merit of those who are sons of God by grace transcends the power of him who is the son by nature. Hence John says, "And we have seen his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth" (John 1). Hence Apostle Paul says, "And Moses indeed was faithful in all his house as a servant, for a testimony of those things which were to be spoken: but Christ as a son over his own house." (Hebrews 3:5-6). Let the cedar shine therefore; let the cypress lift itself in height; let the other trees of the forests display the miracles of their beauty, fragrance, and worth. The apple tree surpasses them all, which, besides the sweetness of its smell and appearance, also contains the power for nourishment. Let the righteous shine with their virtues: he who, born of a Virgin, provides us with the supports of eternal life, surpasses all. Whence it is well added:

Under the shadow of him whom I desired, I sat, etc. As if it were openly said, Therefore I judge my beloved to be preferred before all others, because in the sole protection of his piety, for whose desire I always burned, I find refreshment from the heat of tribulations, because I feel the most pleasant fruit of his gifts, by which I trust I am to be continually refreshed. But the holy Church desired to breathe a little under the shadow of the Author, when she complained that she was darkened by the excessive sun of persecutions, because the sons of her mother fought against her, when, imploring the help of his presence, she anxiously cried: Tell me, whom my soul loves, where you feed, where you rest at noon; when, not only worn out by the weariness of pressures but enticed by the memory of his beauty and comeliness, she said: Our bed is flowery. She showed that she had attained the desire, when she said: Under the shadow of him whom I desired, I sat, and his fruit was sweet to my throat. And it should be noted that above she proclaimed that the beams of her houses were cedar and the panelling cypress, yet she did not consider this protection sufficient for her, nor did she confess herself content with the contemplation of their loftiness and beauty; but she diligently sought the tree of life alone, in whose shadow she might rest, whose fruit might refresh her; because although some saints are able to propose for us sublime examples of their virtues, to show us the path of heavenly life by preaching, to bring the support of their intercession with the Lord, yet to none of them, but to our beloved Savior alone, must we say, But the sons of men will put their trust under the cover of your wings; they will be satiated with the fatness of your house (Psalm 35). Whence it is deservedly said that as an apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my beloved among the sons. Rightly then is the only Son preferred to all the sons of God, who protects us like a shady tree from the heat of the pursuing world, refreshes us with heavenly sweetness like an unfading apple. How great the refreshment of his sweetness, how great its virtue, is subsequently shown, when it is said:

There follows: "As the apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my beloved among the sons." The bride returns the exchange of praise to the Bridegroom who commends her, from whom to be praised is to be made praiseworthy, and to praise whom is to understand and admire the praiseworthy one. And just as her praise was figured by the Bridegroom from an eminent flower, so in return she too demonstrates his singular glory and eminence from an excellent tree. Yet it moves me concerning this tree, that it does not seem to be of so great an excellence as some of the others: and therefore less worthily taken up for the purpose of the similitude, inasmuch as it would not suffice to fulfill the exchange of praise. "As the apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my beloved among the sons." Indeed the bride herself does not seem to have esteemed it highly, she who took care to exalt it only among the trees of forests, that is, among sterile trees bearing no fruits suitable for human food. Why therefore, with better and nobler trees passed over, was the mediocrity of this tree brought forward to form the Bridegroom's praise? Was he who did not receive the Spirit by measure to receive praise by measure? For this similitude given from that tree makes it seem that he who has no equal has a superior. What shall we say to these things? I confess, it is a small praise, because it is the praise of the small one. For it is not in this place that the "great Lord and exceedingly to be praised" (Ps 144:3) is proclaimed, but the small Lord and exceedingly to be loved, the little one indeed "who has been born for us" (Isa 9:6).

Therefore it is not majesty that is extolled here, but humility that is commended; and worthily and reasonably that which is weak and foolish of God is preferred to the strength and wisdom of men. For they themselves are the wild and fruitless trees of the forest, because, according to the Prophet, "all have turned aside, together they have become useless; there is none who does good, there is not even one" (Ps 13:3). "As the apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my beloved among the sons." Alone among the trees of the forest the Lord Jesus is a tree bearing fruit, according to his humanity assuredly, even if set above men, yet "made lower than the angels" (Ps 8:6). For in a wondrous manner, having been made flesh, he both subjected himself to the angels, and remaining God, he retained the angels subject to himself. Finally: "You shall see," he says, "the angels ascending and descending upon the Son of man" (Jn 1:51): because in one and the same man Christ Jesus they both tend his weakness and stand in awe of his majesty. Because therefore to the bride that which he diminished of himself tastes sweeter, she more willingly extols his grace, sets forth his mercy, stands amazed at his condescension. It therefore pleased her to admire the man among men, not God among angels, as the apple tree excels among the trees of the forest, and not indeed among the plantings of gardens. Nor does she think that his praises are diminished, where the goodness of piety is exalted from the consideration of weakness. For in the measure that she tempers her praises in one respect, in that same measure she praises the more in another respect, pursuing less the glory of his dignity, so that the grace of his condescension may stand out. As therefore the Apostle says that what is foolish and weak of God is wiser and stronger than men (1 Cor 1:25), but not than angels; and as the Prophet proclaims him beautiful in form "above the sons of men" (Ps 44:3), and not above the angels; so she certainly, speaking in the same spirit, wished in this place under the type of a fruit-bearing tree and the trees of the forest to exalt the God-Man above all the grace of men, but not above the excellence of the angels.

"As the apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my beloved among the sons." And rightly "among the sons"; because, though he was the only-begotten of his Father, he was zealous to acquire for him many sons without envy, whom "he is not ashamed to call brothers," that he might be himself "the firstborn among many brothers." Rightly, however, is he who is Son by nature set before all those adopted through grace. "As the apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my beloved among the sons." Deservedly as the apple tree, who, after the manner of a fruit-bearing tree, both has the shade of refreshment and bears the best fruit. Is it not truly a fruit-bearing tree, "whose flowers are the fruit of honor and of virtue?" (Sir 24:23.) Finally, "it is a tree of life to those who lay hold of it" (Prov 3:18). All the trees of the forest shall not be compared to it, because, even if there are trees beautiful and great which seem to offer help by praying, by ministering, by teaching, by aiding with examples, nevertheless Christ, the Wisdom of God, alone is the tree of life, alone the "living bread that descended from heaven and gives life to the world" (Jn 6:41, 33).

Therefore she says: "I sat under the shadow of him whom I had desired, and his fruit was sweet to my palate" (Song 2:3). She had rightly desired his shadow, from whom she was about to receive both refreshment and nourishment alike. For the other trees of the forest indeed have the shade of solace, but not the nourishment of life, not the perpetual fruits of salvation. For there is one author of life, "one mediator of God and men, the man Christ Jesus" (1 Tim 2:5), who says to his bride: "I am your salvation" (Ps 34:3). "Not Moses," he says, "gave you this bread from heaven, but my Father gives you the true bread from heaven" (Jn 6:32). Therefore she had desired the shadow of Christ above all, because he alone is the one who not only cools from the heat of vices, but also fills with the delight of virtues. "I sat under the shadow of him whom I had desired." His shadow is his flesh; his shadow is faith. The flesh of her own Son overshadowed Mary; the faith of the Lord overshadows me. Although, how does his flesh not overshadow me also, who eat it in the sacrament? And the holy Virgin likewise experienced the shadow of faith herself, to whom it was said: "And blessed is she who believed" (Lk 1:45). "I sat under the shadow of him whom I had desired." And the prophet says: "The Spirit before our face is Christ the Lord; in his shadow we shall live among the nations" (Lam 4:20). In the shadow among the nations, in the light with the angels. We are in the shadow, as long as we walk by faith and not by sight; and therefore the just man is in the shadow, who lives by faith. But he who lives by understanding is blessed; because he is no longer in the shadow, but in the light. David was just, and he lived by faith, when he was saying to God: "Give me understanding, that I may learn your commandments, and may live" (Ps 118:73, 144); knowing that understanding would succeed faith, and that the light of life would be revealed to the understanding, and the life of the light. It comes first to arrive at the shadow, and so to pass through to that of which it is the shadow, because, "unless you shall have believed," he says, "you shall not understand" (Isa 7:9).

You see that faith is both life and the shadow of life. For on the contrary, the life that is spent in pleasures, because it is not of faith, is both death and the shadow of death. For "she who is a widow," he says, "living in pleasures, is dead while she lives" (1 Tim 5:6). Finally, "the wisdom of the flesh is death" (Rom 8:6). But it is also the shadow of death, namely of that death which torments for eternity. We too once sat in darkness and the shadow of death, living carnally and not living by faith; dead indeed already to justice, but very nearly about to be swallowed up by the second death. For as much as a shadow is near to the body whose shadow it is, so much assuredly did that life of ours draw near to hell. Finally: "Unless the Lord had helped me," he says, "my soul would have very nearly dwelt in hell" (Ps 93:17). But now we have passed from the shadow of death to the shadow of life; or rather "we have been translated from death to life" (1 Jn 3:14), living in the shadow of Christ, if indeed living, and not dead. For I do not think that as soon as anyone is in his shadow, he thereby lives in it, because plainly not everyone who has faith lives by faith. For faith without works is dead; nor can it give life, which it itself does not possess. Therefore the prophet, when he had said: "The Spirit before our face is Christ the Lord," was not content to follow and say: "We are in his shadow"; but: "In his shadow," he says, "we live among the nations." Therefore do you also see to it that you live, by the example of the prophet, in his shadow, so that at some time you may also reign in his light. For he does not have only a shadow; he has light also. He himself through his flesh is the shadow of faith; he himself is the light of understanding through the Spirit. For he is both flesh and spirit. Flesh, for those remaining in the flesh; spirit, before our face, that is, in the future; if indeed, forgetting those things which are behind and stretching ourselves forward to those things which are before, we may arrive at that point and experience concerning the Word what he said: "The flesh profits nothing, it is the Spirit that gives life" (Jn 6:64). Nor am I unaware that someone still remaining in the flesh said: "And if we have known Christ according to the flesh, yet now we know him so no longer" (2 Cor 5:16). But that was for him: for us indeed, who have not yet merited to be caught up to paradise, not yet to the third heaven, let us meanwhile feed on the flesh of Christ, let us venerate his mysteries, follow his examples, preserve the faith; and we live indeed in the shadow.

"I sat under the shadow of him whom I had desired." Perhaps she glories in having experienced something more blessed in this, that she says she is in the shadow: not, as the prophet, living, but sitting. For to sit is to rest. But it is more to rest in the shadow than to live in it, just as to live is more than merely to be in it. Therefore the prophet, assuming to himself what is common to many, says: "In his shadow we live"; but the bride, having the prerogative, glories also in this, that she alone sat under it. For not as he says in the plural, "We live," does she likewise say, "We sat"; but in the singular, "I sat," that you may recognize the prerogative. Where, therefore, we live with labor, we who, conscious of our sins, serve under fear, there this devoted and loving one sweetly reposes. Finally, fear has punishment, but love has sweetness. Whence she says: "And his fruit was sweet to my palate"; signifying the taste of contemplation, which she had obtained, having been sweetly lifted up through love. But this is in the shadow, because through a mirror and in a riddle. There will come a time when the shadows shall recede as the light increases, or rather shall utterly vanish, and there shall enter a vision as clear as it is perpetual; and there shall be not only sweetness to the palate, but also fullness to the belly; yet without weariness. "I sat under the shadow of him whom I had desired, and his fruit was sweet to my palate." Let us also, where the bride pauses, pause likewise, glorifying the master of the household for the taste we have received, who has invited us to such a feast, the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is over all things God blessed forever. Amen.

Wild trees do not produce fruits suitable for human consumption; but what the apple tree produces, people eat fittingly and healthfully. Rightly, therefore, Christ is figured by the apple tree, while other people are figured by the wild trees; because in Christ alone, whenever we seek the food of salvation, we find it; in His words and examples we refresh our souls with sweet and wholesome fruit. He Himself is indeed the tree of life, which He bestows upon us. He Himself is the one who, while breathing Himself into us, feeds the soul. But if we find any refreshment in others, we receive from them not what is theirs, but what is Christ's; because whatever in them is apart from God, we find without doubt to be deadly to us.

The shadow of Christ is the protection of the Holy Spirit. For the Holy Spirit overshadows the mind that it fills, because it tempers all the heat of temptations; and while the breeze of its inspiration gently touches the mind, it expels whatever harmful heat it was enduring; and the mind which perhaps the excessive heat of vices had already made withered, the protecting shadow of the Holy Spirit refreshes, so that while it sits resting in his inspiration, it gathers strength by which to run more vigorously toward eternal life. There follows: 'And his fruit was sweet to my throat.' For Christ himself, planted in the heart, stands as a fruit-bearing tree; which if our mind worthily loves and earnestly cultivates, it assuredly produces beautiful and useful fruits within. When the mind, seizing these, eagerly eats them, it sets aside all the pleasures of the world in comparison with his sweetness. For it is very sweet to think upon heavenly things, to fix the inward eye upon eternity, so that sometimes even amid weeping the enkindled mind is pierced with compunction, and, lifted up amid tears, is fed upon the food of angels — that is, wisdom itself — and the more sweetly, the more eagerly it is nourished.

He didn't abolish love of parents, wife, children, but put them in their right order. He didn't say, "Whoever loves" but "whoever loves above me." That's what the church is saying in the Song of Songs: "He put charity in order for me." Love your father, but not above your Lord; love the one who begot you, but not above the one who created you.

What is, "Set in order love in me"? Make the proper degrees, and render to each what is his due. Do not put what should come before, below that which should come after it. Love your parents but prefer God to them.

We ought to love God in the first place, enemies in the last; and the measure of love that ought to be weighed out to our neighbors will vary according to the diversity of their merits. We know that the patriarch Jacob, although he loved all his sons, nevertheless loved Joseph more than the rest because of his singular innocence, as Scripture bears witness. Hence the church says pleasingly of Christ in the Song of Songs: "He brought me into the wine chamber, he set charity in order in me."

The king brought me into the wine cellar, etc. Just as soon, she says, as the sweetness of His grace touched the throat of my heart, I felt myself so revived in spirit, and translated from the enjoyment of lowly things to heavenly desires, just as if, having been brought into the wine cellar, I were refreshed by the new fragrance and also by a cup. Therefore, rightly, He who gave such goods, converted me to loving Him with unquenchable charity. Typologically, since the grace of the Holy Spirit is often designated by the term wine; the Lord attesting, when He says that new wine is to be put into new wineskins (Matthew IX, Mark II, Luke V), that is, the fervor of spiritual gifts is to be infused into pure hearts. The wine cellar ought to be understood as the Church, in whose unity alone the Holy Spirit is typically given and received. Therefore, the beloved brought his friend into the wine cellar, because the Lord has gathered the Church from the whole world into one house for Himself, which He consecrated with the gift of His Spirit; this fabric, since it stands primarily on the foundation of charity, by His own work, it is rightly added after she said she was brought into the wine cellar, "He ordained charity in me." He ordained charity in me, she said, that is, He graciously gave to me to have ordered charity, that everyone should love the Lord God with all his heart, all his soul, all his strength; he should love his neighbor as himself, and also tolerate his enemy by loving him. He who either does not know or neglects this order of charity is the one about whom the very ordainer and bestower of charity says, "He who loves father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me," etc. (Matthew X). Although the ordination of charity can rightly be understood as also being for confirmation, because things placed haphazardly are weak; but those placed in order remain firmly, so it is rightly said that the Lord ordained charity in the Church, which He is known to strengthen in the hearts of His faithful with suitable progress. It can also be understood thus what is said, "He ordained charity in me," as if it were said, He loved me with ordered charity, that is, He united all my members, that is, all the elect, to Himself with pious charity; but He embraces the more eminent with greater affection as is fitting, when it is said, "Having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end" (John XIII). He therefore loved all; and yet a more tender love towards a certain one is intimated when it is said, "That disciple whom Jesus loved" (John XXI). In the Church, according to the distinction of merits, He loves some more than others. Again, "He ordered love in me": He Himself loved me first, and by loving me, in order that I might learn to return His love, He granted it; hence He says, "You did not choose me, but I chose you" (John XV). Hence also the apostle John says, "This is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us, and sent His Son as a propitiation for our sins" (1 John IV). Again, the Lord ordained love in the Church, because the very love by which He chose her before the ages, through some degrees of progress, He demonstrated in the increments of times; for the Apostle, as a witness, says, "God commends His own love towards us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for the ungodly" (Romans V). And with the increasing revelation of the same love, John says, "Behold, what manner of love the Father has bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God, and we are" (1 John III). Again, concerning the same perfect love, which no greater can be, and which itself can never diminish, the Lord Himself says: "He who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him, and the rest" (John XIV). For when He said with the verb of the present tense, "He who loves me," which can in no way be done unless one is first loved by Him, and kindled by the grace of His Spirit to love Him, what is it that He immediately subjoined with the verb of the future tense: "He will be loved by my Father, and I will love him, and will manifest myself to him"? unless it is that he who is still now loved by God, so that by believing he may be able to love, will then certainly be loved by God, so that by seeing Him he may love Him more, and with His face revealed, he may love Him more truly with all his strength, as he endures nothing from lesser things that could hinder this love. Therefore, the Lord ordains love in the Church, by which He either loves her Himself or enflames her to hold rightly to love of Him and neighbor. And how much that very love, having perfectly absorbed the mind, raises it from the love of feeble things, He teaches in the following verse, when He says:

On the Twofold Charity, Namely Actual and Affectual; and Its Ordering.

1. You perhaps expect the following verses to be treated, thinking the little verse which was most recently treated to be finished. But I am contriving something else: for I have something yet to set before you from the fragments of yesterday's banquet, which I had gathered for myself lest they perish. But they will perish if I set them before no one: for if I wish to have them for myself alone, I myself shall perish. Therefore I do not wish to defraud your gluttony, which I know well, of these things: especially since they are from the dish of charity, sweet insofar as they are subtle, savory insofar as they are small. Otherwise it is exceedingly contrary to charity to defraud of charity itself. And so here I am: "He ordered charity in me" (Song 2:4).

2. There is a charity in act, and there is one in affection. And concerning that which is of work, I think the law was given to men and a commandment was formed: for who so possesses it in affection as it is commanded? Therefore the one is commanded for merit, the other is given as a reward. We do not deny that divine grace can grant its beginning indeed, and its progress, to be experienced even in the present life; but its consummation we firmly reserve for future happiness. How then was it right to command what was in no way to be fulfilled? Or if it pleases you more that the commandment was given concerning affectual charity, I do not contend about that, provided that you too agree with me that it could in no way be fulfilled in this life by any man, or could have been. For who would dare arrogate to himself that which Paul himself confesses he has not comprehended? (Phil 3:13.) Nor was the weight of the precept, exceeding the powers of men, hidden from the teacher; but he judged it useful that they be reminded of their own insufficiency from this very thing, and that they might know clearly toward what end of righteousness they ought to strive with their powers. Therefore by commanding impossible things he did not make men transgressors, but humble, so that every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may be made subject to God; because by the works of the law no flesh shall be justified before him (Rom 3:19-20). For receiving the commandment, and feeling our transgression, we shall cry out to heaven, and God will have mercy on us: and we shall know in that day, that not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us (Titus 3:5).

3. And this I would have said, if indeed we agreed that affectual charity was commanded by law. But that this rather pertains to actual charity seems to appear most especially from this: that when the Lord had said, "Love your enemies," he at once adds concerning works: "Do good to those who hate you" (Lk 6:27). Likewise Scripture: "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he thirsts, give him drink" (Rom 12:20). And here you have what concerns act, not affection. But hear likewise the Lord commanding also concerning love of himself: "If you love me," he says, "keep my words" (Jn 14:15). And here too we are sent to works by the enjoined observance of commandments. But he would have warned about works superfluously, if love had already been in the affection. So it is necessary that you also receive in this way the command that you love your neighbor as yourself (Mt 22:39), even if it is not so openly expressed. Or do you not finally judge it sufficient for fulfilling this commandment concerning love of neighbor, if you perfectly observe that which is rightly prescribed to every man by the law of nature: "What you do not wish done to you, do not do to another"? (Tob 4:16.) And likewise: "Whatever you wish that men should do to you, do also to them" (Mt 7:12).

4. Nor do I say this so that we should be without affection, and with a dry heart move only our hands to works. I have read among the other great and grievous evils of men which the Apostle writes, this also numbered: namely to be without affection (Rom 1:31). But there is an affection which the flesh begets; and there is one which reason rules; and there is one which wisdom seasons. The first is that which the Apostle says is not subject to the law of God, nor can it be (Rom 8:7); the second is that which he affirms on the other hand to be consenting to the law of God, because it is good (Rom 7:16); nor is there any doubt that the contentious and the consenting differ from each other. But the third is far distant from both, which both tastes and savors that the Lord is sweet (Ps 34:8), eliminating the first and rewarding the second. For the first indeed is sweet, but base; the second is dry, but strong; the last is rich, and sweet. Therefore through the second, works are done, and in it charity resides -- not that affectual charity, which, seasoned with the salt of wisdom, growing rich, brings to the mind a great multitude of the sweetness of the Lord; but rather a certain actual charity, which even if it does not yet sweetly refresh with that sweet love, nevertheless vehemently inflames with a love of that very love. "Let us not love," he says, "in word, nor in tongue, but in deed and in truth" (1 Jn 3:18).

5. Do you see how he carefully proceeds in the middle between vicious and affectionate love, distinguishing from each equally this actual and salutary charity? He receives in this love neither the pretense of a lying tongue, nor in turn does he demand the taste of affecting wisdom. "Let us love," he says, "in deed and in truth": namely that we be moved to good works more by a certain impulse of living truth than by the affection of that savory charity. "He ordered charity in me." Which of these do you think? Both, but in opposite order. For actual charity prefers inferior things, affectual prefers superior things. For indeed in a well-affected mind there is no doubt, for example, that the love of God is set before the love of man; and among men themselves, the more perfect before the weaker, heaven before earth, eternity before time, the soul before the flesh. Yet in a well-ordered action, the opposite order is often, or even always, found. For concerning care for our neighbor we are both more urgently pressed and more frequently occupied; and we attend to weaker brethren with more diligent care; and to the peace of earth rather than the glory of heaven we attend by the right of humanity and by necessity itself; and by the restlessness of temporal cares we are scarcely permitted to perceive anything of eternal things; and to the ailments of our body, with care of the soul set aside, we attend almost continuously; and indeed to our very weaker members we assign the more abundant honor, according to the judgment of the Apostle (1 Cor 12:23): by this in a certain way fulfilling the word of the Lord, concerning which you have: "The last shall be first, and the first last" (Mt 20:16). Finally, who doubts that one who prays speaks with God? Yet how often are we thence led away and torn away at the command of charity, on account of those who are in need of our work or word? How often does pious quiet piously yield to the tumult of business? How often is a book put down with good conscience, so that one may sweat at the work of the hands? How often, for the sake of administering earthly things, do we most justly abstain from celebrating the very solemnities of the Mass? The order is reversed: but necessity has no law. Actual charity therefore follows its own order according to the command of the head of the household, beginning from the last (Mt 20:8). Surely it is pious and just, for it is no respecter of persons; nor does it consider the value of things, but the necessities of men.

6. But affectual charity is not so: for it draws its order from the first things. For it is wisdom, through which certainly each thing savors as it is: so that, for example, what is of greater value by nature, the affection itself also feels to be of greater value; lesser things less, the least things least. And that order of charity truth makes; but this order the charity of truth claims for itself. For charity is true in this also, that those who are in greater need receive first: and in turn in this truth appears dear, if we hold in affection the order which truth holds by reason. If therefore you love the Lord your God with your whole heart, your whole soul, and your whole strength (Mt 22:37); and leaping beyond that love of love, with which actual charity is content, by a more fervent affection, you receive at close range the divine love itself, toward which that is a step, having received the Spirit in fullness, and wholly catch fire: God surely savors to you, even if not altogether worthily as he is (which indeed is impossible for every creature), yet certainly as your capacity for savoring is. Then you will also savor to yourself as you are, when you perceive that you have absolutely nothing for which you may love yourself except insofar as you are God's: since you have poured out the whole of that for which you love, into him. You will savor, I say, to yourself as you are, when by the very experience of your love, and the affection which you will have toward yourself, you find that you are worthy of nothing that might be loved by you yourself, except on account of him, without whom you yourself are nothing.

7. Now indeed your neighbor, whom you are truly bound to love as yourself, that he too may savor to you as he is, will surely savor to you no differently than you to yourself, who is what you are: for he is a man. You therefore who love yourself only because you love God; consequently all who similarly love him, you love as yourself. Furthermore an enemy, since he is nothing, inasmuch as he does not love God: he cannot indeed be loved as yourself, who love God; yet you will love him so that he may love. But it is not the same thing, to love so that he may love, and to love because he loves. Accordingly that he too may savor to you as he is, he will savor to you, not indeed for what he is, since he is certainly nothing; but for what he perhaps will be in the future -- which is close to nothing, inasmuch as it still hangs in doubt. For concerning one of whom it is established that he will never return to the love of God, he must savor to you not close to nothing, but altogether nothing, inasmuch as he is nothing for eternity. That one therefore excepted, who is now not only not to be loved, but moreover to be held in hatred, according to that: "Did I not hate those who hated you, O Lord, and waste away on account of your enemies?" (Ps 139:21.) For the rest, charity -- rightly ambitious in this respect -- permits that not even the most hostile man be denied some small measure of affection. Who is wise, and will understand these things?

8. Give me a man who above all things indeed loves God with his whole self; but himself and his neighbor, insofar as they love God himself; his enemy, however, as one who perhaps will love him some day; his parents according to the flesh, more tenderly on account of nature; but his spiritual teachers more abundantly on account of grace; and in this manner attends to all other things of God with ordered love, despising the earth, looking up to heaven, using this world as though not using it, and discerning between things to be used and things to be enjoyed by a certain inmost savor of the mind, so that he cares for transitory things in a transitory way, and only for what is needed and insofar as it is needed, and embraces eternal things with eternal desire: such a man, I say, give me, and I will boldly pronounce him wise, to whom indeed each thing truly savors as it is, and to whom it belongs in truth and security to glory and to say that "he ordered charity in me." But where is he, or when are these things so? Which I say weeping: how long do we smell and not taste, gazing upon the fatherland and not apprehending it, sighing and saluting from afar? O truth, fatherland of exiles, end of exile! I see you, but I am not permitted to enter, held back by the flesh; nor am I worthy to be admitted, soiled with sins. O Wisdom, who reaches from end to end mightily in establishing and sustaining things; and disposes all things sweetly in blessing and ordering affections! Direct our actions, as our temporal necessity demands; and dispose our affections, as your eternal truth requires, so that each one of us may securely glory in you and say that "he ordered charity in me." For you are the power of God and the wisdom of God, Christ the Bridegroom of the Church, our Lord, over all things God blessed forever. Amen.

In moral discipline likewise three things are to be noticed, as it were three cells in one storeroom. And perhaps for this reason she said storerooms in the plural, and not storeroom, thinking of this number of cells. Further on, indeed, she glories in having been brought into the "wine cellar" (Song 2:4). We therefore, because we read, "Give occasion to a wise man, and he will become wiser" (Prov 9:9), having the occasion from the name which the Holy Spirit saw fit to impose on this cell, let us impose names also on the other two: "aromatic" on one, and "ointment" on the other. Now however observe that all things with the bridegroom are found to be healthful, all things sweet: wine, ointments, spices. Wine, as Scripture attests, "gladdens the heart of man" (Ps 104:15). No less does one read that the face is made cheerful by oil (ibid.), in which indeed the powder of spices is infused to make ointments. Spices are not only pleasing by the sweet fragrance of their scent, but also useful by their healing power. Rightly does the bride exult that she has been brought in there, where so great an abundance of grace overflows.

For as for the wine cellar too, I judge it to bear no other reason for its name than that in it is stored the wine of zeal fervent in charity. And no one at all who has not yet merited to be brought into it ought to preside over others. He who presides over others must absolutely burn with this wine, just as the Teacher of the Gentiles was burning when he said: "Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is scandalized, and I do not burn?" (2 Cor 11:29). Otherwise you quite improperly desire to preside over those whose good you do not seek; and you far too ambitiously claim for yourself the subjection of those for whose salvation you are not zealous. This cell I have also named of grace; not that anyone can obtain even the other two entirely without grace, but on account of the fullness which is singularly perceived in this one. For indeed "the fullness of the law is charity," and "he who loves his brother has fulfilled the law" (Rom 13:10, 8).

Yet he easily fulfills both who has perfectly attained discretion, the mother of virtues, and is nevertheless inebriated with the wine of charity to the contempt of his own glory, to the forgetfulness of his very self, and not to seeking the things that are his own; which is obtained solely and wondrously by the instruction of the Holy Spirit within the wine cellar. For the virtue of discretion without the fervor of charity lies inert, and vehement fervor without the tempering of discretion falls headlong.

How Charity Is Ordered Through Discretion, So That All the Members of the Church, That Is, the Elect, May Be Bound Together With One Another.

1. "The king has brought me into the wine cellar, he has ordered charity in me" (Song 2:4). As indeed the letter of the proposed chapter seems to sound, after having enjoyed a sweet and quite familiar conversation with the beloved according to her desires, when he departed the bride returns to the young maidens, so refreshed and inflamed by the sight and speech of him that she appeared like one drunk. And as though they were astonished at the novelty and seeking the cause, she replied that it was not at all strange if she burned with wine, who had entered into the wine cellar. And according to the letter it is so. According to the spirit also she does not deny being drunk, but with love, not with wine, except that love is wine. "The king has brought me into the wine cellar." When the bridegroom is present and the bride directs her speech to him, then he is called bridegroom or beloved, or "him whom my soul loves," she says; but speaking of him to the young maidens, she names him king. Why is this? I believe it is because it befits the bride, loving and beloved, to use more familiarly the names of love, as pertains to herself, while the young maidens, as those needing discipline, must be pressed by the reverential word of majesty.

2. "The king has brought me into the wine cellar." What this wine cellar may be, I pass over saying, because I recall having already said it. Nevertheless, if the discourse is referred to the Church, when the disciples, filled with the Holy Spirit, were thought by the people to be drunk with new wine, then Peter, standing as it were the friend of the bridegroom on behalf of the bride, in the midst of them said: "These are not, as you suppose, drunk" (Acts 2:15). Observe meanwhile that he did not deny them to be drunk altogether, but drunk as they were supposed by those people. For they were drunk, but with the Holy Spirit, not with new wine. And as though they were testifying to the people that they had indeed been brought into the wine cellar, Peter again said on behalf of all: "But this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel: 'And it shall be in the last days, says the Lord, I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and daughters shall prophesy; your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams'" (Acts 2:16-17). Does not that house seem to you to have been a wine cellar, in which the disciples were gathered together, when suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled the whole house where they were sitting (Acts 2:2), and fulfilled the prophecy of Joel! And could not each one of them, going out inebriated from the abundance of that house, and given to drink from the torrent of so great pleasure, deservedly say: "The king has brought me into the wine cellar"?

3. But you also, if with your spirit gathered, with a sober mind and free from cares, you should enter alone into the house of prayer, and standing before God at one of the altars, you should touch the gate of heaven with the hand of holy desire, and being presented to the choirs of saints, your devotion penetrating (since indeed the prayer of the just penetrates the heavens), in their very presence you should, pitiable as you are, bewail the miseries and calamities which you suffer; with frequent sighs and unutterable groanings you should reveal your necessity, entreat for mercy; if, I say, you should do this, I am confident in him who said, "Ask, and you shall receive" (Mt 7:7), that if you persevere knocking, you shall not go out empty. But when you have returned to us full of grace and charity, and, fervent in spirit, you cannot conceal the gift received, which you will communicate without envy; and you shall be to all, in the grace that has been given to you, not only pleasing but perhaps even to be wondered at; you too will be able to declare truthfully that "the king has brought me into the wine cellar." Only be careful to glory not in yourself but in the Lord. Nor would I say that every gift, even a spiritual one, comes from the wine cellar, since there are also other cellars or storerooms in the possession of the bridegroom, having different gifts and charisms stored within them, according to the riches of his glory. "Are not these things stored up with me," he says, "and sealed in my treasuries?" (Deut 32:34). Therefore, according to the diversity of cellars, there are divisions of graces, and to each one the Spirit is manifested for profit. And although to one indeed is given the word of wisdom, to another the word of knowledge, to another prophecy, to another the grace of healings, to another kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of speeches, and other similar things to others (1 Cor 12:7-11), nevertheless none of these will be able to say on account of such things that he was brought into the wine cellar. For these are taken from other cellars or treasuries.

4. But if anyone by praying should obtain to go out of his mind into that divine mystery, from which he may soon return burning most vehemently with divine love, and aflame with zeal for justice, and exceedingly fervent in all spiritual pursuits and duties, so that he can say, "My heart grew hot within me, and in my meditations a fire blazes forth" (Ps 39:3): this one plainly, when from the abundance of charity he begins to belch forth the good and wholesome drunkenness of the wine of gladness, shall not undeservedly be said to have entered the wine cellar. For since there are two ecstasies of blessed contemplation, one in the intellect and the other in the affections, one in light and the other in fervor, one in recognition and the other in devotion: surely a pious affection, and a breast warm with love, and the infusion of holy devotion, and also a vehement spirit filled with zeal, are plainly brought back from nowhere else than from the wine cellar. And to whomever it is given to rise from prayer with an abundance of these things, he can speak in truth that "the king has brought me into the wine cellar."

5. There follows: "He has ordered charity in me." This was altogether necessary. For zeal without knowledge is indeed unbearable. Where therefore there is vehement zeal, there especially is discretion necessary, which is the ordering of charity. Indeed, zeal without knowledge is always found to be less effective and less useful; and very often it is even felt to be very harmful. Therefore, the more fervent the zeal, and the more vehement the spirit, and the more lavish the charity, the more need there is of watchful knowledge, which may restrain zeal, temper the spirit, and order charity. Therefore indeed, lest on account of the impetuousness of the spirit which she seems to have brought back from the wine cellar, the bride should be feared, especially by the young maidens, as excessive and unbearable, she adds that she has equally received what belongs to discretion, that is, the order of charity. For discretion sets order upon every virtue; order gives measure and beauty, and even perpetuity. Indeed he says: "By your ordering the day perseveres" (Ps 119:91), calling virtue the day. Discretion, therefore, is not so much a virtue as a certain governess and charioteer of the virtues, and an orderer of the affections, and a teacher of conduct. Take this away, and virtue will become vice, and natural affection itself will be turned rather into disturbance and the destruction of nature. "He has ordered charity in me." But this was done when in the Church he gave some indeed as apostles, some as prophets, others as evangelists, others as pastors and teachers, for the perfection of the saints (Eph 4:11-12). But it is necessary that charity bind all these together and temper them into the unity of the body of Christ, which it will by no means be able to do at all if it itself has not been ordered. For if each one is carried by his own impulse according to the spirit he has received, and has flown indiscriminately to whatever things he wishes, as he is moved, and not by the judgment of reason; since no one will be content with the office assigned to him, but all will attempt all things equally with indiscriminate administration, there will plainly be not unity but rather confusion.

6. "He has ordered charity in me." Would that the Lord Jesus might also order in me the little bit of charity he has given, so that I may be concerned for all things that are his, yet that what has been established to be most especially of my own calling or office, I may take care of before all things; but in such a way that what comes first is so arranged that nevertheless I am more moved toward many things that do not specially pertain to me. For not always will what must be taken care of first also be loved more, since often what comes first in solicitude is less in usefulness, and on that account ought to be less also in affection. Frequently therefore what is put first because of duty is put behind in judgment; and what truth judges should be put first, the order of charity demands should be embraced more dearly. Is it not the case, for example, that by the duty enjoined upon me the care of all of you rests upon me? Now whatever I should perhaps prefer to this work, so as to be less vigilant in carrying it out worthily and usefully to the best of my abilities, even if I may seem to do this perhaps out of charity, nevertheless the reason of order does not consent. But if I attend to this care before all things, as I ought, yet do not rejoice more at the greater gains of God which I perhaps discover are being accomplished through another, it is clear that I hold the order of charity in part, but by no means entirely. But if I show myself both more solicitous toward that which especially rests upon me, and no less more moved toward that which is greater, on both counts I am found to have attained the order of charity, and there is no reason why I too cannot say that "he has ordered charity in me."

7. But if you say it is difficult for anyone to rejoice more in the great good of another than in his own small good, you will certainly perceive from this the excellence of grace in the bride, and that it is not for just any soul to say "he has ordered charity in me." Why have the faces of some of you fallen just now at this discourse? For deep sighs bear witness to the sadness of your souls and the dejection of your consciences. Doubtless, measuring ourselves by ourselves, some of us perceive from the experience of our own imperfection how rare a virtue it is not to envy the virtue of another, much less to rejoice at it, much less even for each one to rejoice so much more than at his own virtue as he has perceived himself to be surpassed in virtue. There is still a little light in us, brothers, as many of us as feel thus about ourselves. Let us walk while we have the light, lest the darkness overtake us (Jn 12:35). To walk is to make progress. The Apostle was walking, who said: "I do not consider that I have comprehended"; and he adds: "But one thing, forgetting what lies behind, I stretch forward to what lies ahead" (Phil 3:13). What is "but one thing"? "But one thing," he says, has as it were remained to me for a remedy, for hope, for consolation. What is that? "Forgetting what lies behind, I stretch forward to what lies ahead." Great confidence! Because the great vessel of election, refusing to be called perfect, confesses his progress. For me, who am not walking but sitting, there is the danger of being overtaken by the darkness of death. And who is sitting, except he who does not care to make progress? Beware of this, and if you have been forestalled by death, you shall be in refreshment. You will say to God: "Your eyes have seen my imperfection, and in your book nevertheless," he says, "all shall be written." Who are "all"? Surely those who are found in the desire of making progress. For there follows: "Days shall be formed, and no one in them" (Ps 139:16); supply: shall perish. Understand "days" as those making progress, who, if they have been forestalled by death, are to be perfected in what they lack. They shall be formed, and no one in them shall be left unformed.

8. "And how," you say, "can I make progress, who envy a brother who is making progress?" If you grieve that you envy, you feel it but do not consent to it. It is a passion, to be healed in due time, not an action to be condemned. Only do not settle there, meditating wickedness on your bed, namely devising how to foster the disease, satisfy the plague, persecute the innocent one by slandering, suppressing, perverting, and impeding the good things done by him and those yet to be done. Otherwise, it does not harm one who is walking and stretching himself toward better things, that it is no longer he himself who works this, but sin that dwells in him (Rom 7:20). There is therefore no condemnation for him who does not yield his members as weapons of iniquity, not the tongue for slandering, nor any other part of the body for hurting or harming in any way; but rather is confounded at being so badly disposed, and strives to expel the vice ingrown from long habit by confessing, weeping, and praying; and when he does not prevail, he is found to be gentler toward all on that account, and more humble in his own eyes. What man of sound judgment would condemn one who has learned from the Lord to be meek and humble of heart? (Mt 11:29). Far be it that an imitator of the Savior should be found devoid of salvation, of the Bridegroom of the Church, our Lord Jesus Christ, who is over all things God blessed forever! Amen.

The banqueting-house of the heavenly King, that is, His body which He built up for Himself as His house, and then also the kingdom of heaven.

There is a properly ordered love that, while hating no one, loves certain persons more by reason of their good qualities. Although it loves everyone in a general way, nonetheless it makes an exception for itself of those whom it should embrace with a particular affection. - "Conference 16.14.3"

Something of this sort too we have in the character of the bride in the Song of Songs, where she says: "Set in order love in me." For this is true love set in order, which, while it hates no one, yet loves some still more by reason of their deserving it, and which, while it loves all in general, singles out for itself some from those, whom it may embrace with a special affection, and again among those, who are the special and chief objects of its love, singles out some who are preferred to others in affection.

Naturally the bride now demands entry into the house of wine. For she alone had believed beforehand in the grape cluster hanging upon the cross, the grape cluster that was counted for nothing by everyone because while still in flower it had not exhibited to everyone the properties of wine. At that time she alone had believed in advance in this grape cluster, although its identity would become clearly manifest only at a later time. She had established in advance an idea so high, even before the wine season itself, which permitted her to anticipate a mental notion of the wine even in the flowering vine. Besides this, it permitted her to bear witness to Deity from on high present within the one who hung upon the cross, and thus to conceive of impassibility within suffering, of resurrection within death. She alone had firmly grasped, as though it had already been spoken, the message of the vine upon the cross that would soon be pressed out. And thus she experienced before the outcome of events that which the majority experienced only after their outcome had been realized. Hence she requests, as an exceptional privilege of such discernment, entry into the house of wine.

"Bring me into the wine cellar." The Bridegroom had stopped outside and was welcomed by the bride. Truly he had rested on her bosom. Many young maidens are not such as to be worthy of having the Bridegroom as their guest: "to the crowds" outside, he "speaks in parables." How I fear that many of us are maidens! "Bring me into the wine cellar." Why do I wait outside for so long? "See, I stand at the door and knock. If someone opens to me, I will come in to him, and sup with him, and he with me." "Bring me in." Even now the divine Word says the same words: see that the Christ says, "Let me in." He speaks also to you, catechumens, "Let me in," not simply into the house but "into the wine cellar," that your soul might be filled with the "wine of delight," the wine of the Holy Spirit. Thus, "bring into" your "house" the Bridegroom, the Word, Wisdom, the Truth. Thus it can also be said of those who are not yet perfect, "Bring me into the wine cellar."

For what do we more fittingly understand by the wine cellar than the hidden contemplation of eternity itself? In this eternity the holy angels are inebriated with the wine of wisdom, while seeing God himself face to face, they are satisfied with every spiritual delight. The holy mind, if it is led in by the bridegroom (all temporal things having been set aside), enters this cellar, in which it tastes of those angelic delights as much as is granted to it. And because it is still held in a corruptible body, it does not perfectly satisfy itself; yet from that small amount which it takes in passing, it considers how much it ought to love what it loves. The wine cellar can also, however, be understood as a figure of divine Scripture. For through it, charity is ordered in the bride, because in its teaching it is clearly learned how God and neighbor are to be loved in proper order.

The Word of God inflicts a wound, but it does not produce a sore. There is a wound of righteous love, there are wounds of charity, as she has said, "I am wounded with love." The one who is perfect is wounded with love. Therefore the wounds of the Word are good, and good are the wounds of the lover.

The love of eternal life sprouts from the love of knowledge, as does the ability to endure persecution from the love of eternal life, and the virtue of fortitude from persecution, and the perfected glory of martyrdom from fortitude.

In the Song of Songs it is said, "I am wounded with love"; that is, of being in love, of being inflamed with passion, of sighing for the bridegroom, from whom she received the arrow of the Word.

The wound of love is health-giving. The bride of Christ sings in the Song of Songs, "I am wounded with charity." When is this wound healed? When our desire is sated with good things. It's called a wound as long as we desire and don't yet have. Love, you see, in that case, is the same as if it were a pain. When we get there, when we have what we desire, the pain disappears, the love doesn't cease.

What reflection is sweeter than the thought of the magnificence of God? What desire of the soul is so poignant and so intolerably keen as that desire implanted by God in a soul purified from all vice and affirming with sincerity, "I languish with love." Totally ineffable and indescribable are the lightning flashes of divine Beauty.

"Sustain me with flowers, surround me with apples," etc. For the soul languishes with love when it truly tastes the ordered love of its Creator in itself, because when it is kindled to seek the light of eternity, it tires from the love of temporality, so that it cools in its zeal for the passing world as much as it rises more ardent to contemplate the joys of the eternal kingdom. But let us see, soul, who burns with such love, what place it seeks to lie down in, where it may rest when weary. "Sustain me," it says, "with flowers, surround me with apples." In the flowers are still tender beginnings of virtues, in the apples perfection is signified. Therefore, the soul languishing with love beseeches the daughters of Jerusalem, that is, those souls who preceded it in heavenly desire, to help its own beginnings with good examples, and to recall to its memory more frequently by what start, by what course, by what end they completed the way of virtues, so that through the sight of these, as if by a most pleasing scent of flowers and apples, it may lie down more softly and sweetly in the love of its Creator. This can equally be understood both from the deeds of the saints which we have before our eyes and from those which we gather from the fields and groves of the Scriptures, as well from the deeds or sayings of the preceding fathers.

How the Bride Asks That the Fruits of Good Works Be Heaped Up for Her Together with the Flowers and Fragrances of Faith; Likewise on Hope and Fear.

1. "Sustain me with flowers, surround me with apples, because I languish with love" (Song 2:5). Love has grown, because more incentives of love than usual have come forth. For you see how great on this occasion was the abundance not only of seeing, but also of conversing. The vision itself appears granted with a more serene countenance, and the speech was more pleasant, and the conversation longer and more drawn out. Nor was she only delighted by the conversation, but she also gloried in his praise. Besides this, she was refreshed by the shadow of him whom she had desired, fed with his fruit, given drink from his cup. For she is not to be thought to have gone out thirsty from the wine cellar, into which she just now most recently glories that she was brought; nay rather she was thirsty, because "he who drinks me," he says, "will thirst yet again" (Sir 24:29). After all these things, with the Bridegroom withdrawing in his customary manner, she declares that she languishes with love, that is, on account of love. For the more gracious she had experienced his presence, the more burdensome she afterward felt his absence. For the withdrawal of the thing you love is the increase of desire; and what you desire more ardently, you lack more painfully. She asks therefore to be sustained in the meantime by the fragrances of flowers and fruits, until he returns again, whose delay she endures most grievously. And this is the order of the words.

2. Now let us attempt, with the Spirit of truth as guide, to draw out the spiritual fruit that is in them. And if it is the common Church of the saints that is received here as speaking, we are designated in the flowers and fruits; but also all who have been converted from the world in the whole world. In the flowers indeed the new and still tender manner of life of beginners is shown; in the fruits, however, the strength of those advancing and the maturity of the perfect. Surrounded by these, the mother, on pilgrimage and bearing fruit, for whom to live is Christ, and to die is gain, surely bears more equably the burden of her delay, since, according to Scripture, she is given of the fruit of her hands, as from the firstfruits of the spirit, and her works praise her in the gates (Prov 31:31). But if according to the moral sense you wish both of these to be assigned to you in a single soul, both flowers and fruits; understand faith as the flower, and the deed as the fruit. Nor unfittingly, as I think, will this seem to you, if you consider how, in the likeness of a flower necessarily preceding the fruit, a good work too must be preceded by faith. Otherwise, without faith it is impossible to please God (Heb 11:6), as Paul attests, or rather as he himself equally teaches: "Everything that is not from faith is also sin" (Rom 14:23). And so neither fruit without flower, nor good work without faith. But also faith without works is dead (Jas 2:20); just as a flower also appears uselessly where fruit does not follow. "Sustain me with flowers, surround me with apples, because I languish with love." Therefore from good works rooted in unfeigned faith, the mind accustomed to rest receives consolation, as often as the light of contemplation is withdrawn from it, as is its wont. For who, I do not say continuously, but even for any length of time, while remaining in this body, enjoys the light of contemplation? But as often as, as I have said, one falls from the contemplative life, so often does one retreat into the active life, from there assuredly about to return more familiarly into the same, as from a nearby place; since these two are mutual companions, and they dwell together equally; for Martha is the sister of Mary. For even if one falls from the light of contemplation, one does not however in any way suffer oneself to fall into the darkness of sin, or the sluggishness of idleness, retaining oneself surely in the light of good works. And that you may know that even works are light: "Let your light shine," he says, "before men" (Mt 5:16): which without doubt was said concerning works, which men were able to behold.

3. "Sustain me with flowers, surround me with apples, because I languish with love." When what is loved is at hand, love is vigorous; it languishes when it is absent. Which is nothing other than a certain weariness of impatient desire, by which the mind of one who loves vehemently is necessarily affected in the absence of the one it loves, while wholly in expectation, it reckons any haste, however great, as tardiness. And therefore she asks that the fruits of good works be heaped up for her together with the fragrances of faith, in which, while the Bridegroom delays, she may rest in the meantime. I speak to you of my own experience, which I have experienced. If ever I found that some of you had made progress from my admonitions, then it did not trouble me, I confess, to have preferred the care of preaching to my own leisure and quiet. For when, for example, after a sermon someone who was wrathful is found changed into a gentle person, a proud one into a humble one, a fainthearted one into a strong one: furthermore when a gentle, humble, and strong person is recognized to have grown in his own grace and to have become better than himself; but also when those who perhaps had grown lukewarm and languished, torpid and drowsy around spiritual study, are seen to have been re-kindled and awakened by the fiery word of the Lord; and those who, having forsaken the fountain of wisdom, had dug for themselves cisterns of their own will, unable to hold water, and therefore murmured at every command laid upon them, with parched heart, having no moisture of devotion in themselves: these, I say, when from the dew of the word, and the willing rain which God set apart for his inheritance, they are proved to have reflowered into works of obedience, made willing and devout in all things; there is no cause, I tell you, for sadness to steal upon the mind, as if for the interrupted pursuit of delightful contemplation, when I shall have been surrounded by such flowers and fruits of piety. Patiently am I torn from the embraces of the barren Rachel, so that from Leah the fruits of your progress may abound for me. Not at all shall it trouble me to have interrupted my rest for the care of preaching, when I shall see my seed germinate in you, and from it the increase of the fruits of your justice grow. For charity, which does not seek the things that are its own (1 Cor 13:5), has long since easily persuaded me of this, namely that none of my desirable things should be preferred to your benefits. To pray, to read, to write, to meditate, and whatever other gains of spiritual study there are, I have counted these as losses for your sake.

4. "Sustain me with flowers, surround me with apples, because I languish with love." This therefore the bride spoke to the young maidens in the absence of the Bridegroom, urging them to advance in faith and good works until he should come, perceiving that in this there would be both the good pleasure of the Bridegroom, and the salvation of the daughters, and her own consolation. I know that I have explained this passage more fully in the book On the Love of God, and under a different interpretation: whether a superior or inferior one, let the reader judge, if it should please anyone to see both. Surely I shall not be judged by a prudent person for the diversity of senses, provided that truth be our patron in both cases; and let charity, which the Scriptures ought to serve, edify the more, the more true meanings it has drawn out from them for its own work. For why should this be displeasing in the senses of the Scriptures, which we constantly experience in the uses of things? Into how many uses, for example, does water alone serve for our bodies? So any single divine word will not be out of place, if it begets diverse meanings, to be applied to the diverse needs and uses of souls.

The church proclaims in the Song of Songs, "I am wounded by love." So the holy people pray to be pierced by the fear of the Lord, so that by dying they may live, whereas earlier by living they were dying.

For what do we understand by 'arrows' but the words of preachers? For when they are drawn forth by the voice of holy livers, they transfix the hearts of the hearers. With these arrows Holy Church had been struck, who was saying, I am wounded with love.

Hence again the Church says in the Song of Songs: "I am wounded with love." For it is just that she should reach health from the sight of the physician, who bears the wound of love in her breast through the heat of her desire for him.

By the tender and budding flowers, the beginning faithful are designated, but by the apples, the perfect faithful. For the Bride, because she languishes with love, desires to be supported with flowers and surrounded with apples, because while she afflicts herself with longing for eternity, while she seeks with total anxiety how she might arrive there, but does not at all find the arrival while she lives in the flesh, she rests, wearied in her desire, and rejoices in this alone: if she sees around her those by whom she herself, or in whose perfection, she might perceive consolation for her languishing.

As for the right hand of the Father, it isn't meant in the manner of the structure of the human body, as though he is on the Son's left, if the Son in terms of bodily positions and relationships is placed on his right. But the right hand of God means the inexpressible peak of honor and good fortune, as we read it said about wisdom: "His left hand under my head, and his right hand embraces me." If earthly convenience has been lying underneath, then eternal felicity is embracing from above.

Surely the left hand of the bridegroom is placed under the head of the bride because the Lord raises up the minds of the faithful with temporal benefits, separating them from earthly pleasures and longings so that they may desire and hope for eternal blessings. And he shall embrace her with his right hand because by revealing the vision of his majesty he glorifies her without end.

His left hand under my head, etc. In the left hand of Christ, temporal gifts are signified, and in the right hand, the happiness of eternal life. Therefore it is written elsewhere of him, who is the power and wisdom of God, "Length of days is in his right hand, and in his left hand riches and glory." Therefore the holy Church shows, the soul perfectly intent on the love of its Redeemer shows, what kind of rest it might find in this life which it so eagerly seeks, how it desires to lie in that flowery bed of virtues with its beloved in this exile of pilgrimage. He says, "His left hand under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me." But he calls his head, the principal part of the mind; and the beloved places his left hand under the head of his bride when the Lord confirms the hearts of the faithful still dwelling in this life with the knowledge of his understanding, lifts them up with participation in his sacraments, grants them the pledge of his Spirit, and suggests the comforts of the holy Scriptures. And his right hand shall embrace her when he also promises her the everlasting kingdom of heavenly life after this life. And it is well said that the left hand supports the head, and the right hand embraces her, because we receive temporal gifts as an aid for this pilgrimage, but we shall see heavenly rewards without end. Rightly then does the bride, who earlier languished in love and sought to be supported by flowers and surrounded by apples, now attest to having the hand of her beloved under her head. For even if the lover of the Creator delights in the flowers of virtues, in the progress of neighbors with whom he reaches the vision of His face, and in the remembrance of the examples of ancient saints, whereby he is stirred to love God or his neighbor more ardently, yet there is a singular hope for those who truly desire to rest, which is to be supported by the hand of their Author. And indeed, at first the left hand, so that through this, they may be deemed worthy to reach the embrace of the right hand; for the right hand will not embrace anyone unless the left hand first accepts them to be cherished, that is, no one will sublimely see His glory in the future who has not faithfully inclined to receive the mysteries of His humility in the present. Did not Paul, who showed himself to be the most faithful minister of this bride, saying, "For I am jealous over you with godly jealousy; for I espoused you to one husband, that I might present you as a pure virgin to Christ" (2 Cor. 11), take care to place the left hand of the bridegroom under her head to lead to the embrace of the right hand? For he said, "I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ and Him crucified" (1 Cor. 2). Again, he urges her to strive for the embrace of the right hand, saying, "Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth, where Christ is seated on the right hand of God" (Col. 3), and "When Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then shall you also appear with Him in glory" (ibid.). Therefore, he says, "His left hand is under my head, and His right hand doth embrace me." As if to say openly: may the temporal blessings of my Lord and Savior, which help me to rest a little from the lusts or disturbances of the world, assist me; but the promise of eternal things, in which I am perpetually rewarded, delights me more. How truly pleasing to the Lord is the rest of such a bride, that is, the Church or any chosen soul, is shown in her subsequent response, when it is said:

5. There follows: "His left hand is under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me." And moreover this too I recall having discussed more abundantly in the aforesaid little work; but let us mark the order of the discourse. It is clear that the Bridegroom is present again, I believe, so that by his presence he may raise up the one who languishes. For how would she not regain strength in his presence, whom his absence had cast down? Therefore he does not endure the distress of his beloved: he is present, nor indeed can he delay, summoned by such great desires. And because he had found her, while he was absent, faithful to works and solicitous for gains, in the fact, namely, that she had commanded flowers and fruits to be gathered for her; he has also returned this time with a more generous recompense of grace. And so with one of his arms he supports the head of the one lying down, preparing the other for an embrace, that he might warm her in his bosom. Happy the soul that reclines upon the breast of Christ, and rests between the arms of the Word. "His left hand is under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me." She does not say, "embraces"; but, "shall embrace me," so that you may know her to be so far from ungrateful for the first grace, that she has anticipated the second with thanksgiving.

6. Learn not to be slow or sluggish in returning thanks; learn to give thanks for each individual gift. "Consider carefully," he says, "what is set before you" (Prov 23:1), so that, namely, no gifts of God may be defrauded of their due thanksgiving; not great ones, not moderate ones, not small ones. For we are commanded to gather up the fragments lest they perish (Jn 6:12); that is, not to forget even the smallest benefits. Does not that which is given to an ungrateful person perish? Ingratitude is the enemy of the soul, the emptying of merits, the scattering of virtues, the loss of benefits. Ingratitude is a burning wind, drying up for itself the fountain of piety, the dew of mercy, the streams of grace. For this reason, then, the bride, as soon as she felt the grace from the left hand, gave thanks, not waiting for the fullness that is in the right hand. For indeed, where she has mentioned that the left hand was already under her head, she did not follow this by saying that she was likewise embraced by the right; but, "shall embrace me," she said.

7. But what do we think the left hand and the right hand are to the Word, the Bridegroom? Does that which is called the word of man have in itself bodily parts of this kind, divided and with distinct lineaments, distinguishing between left and right? How much more does he, who is both of God and is God, the Word, admit of absolutely no variety, but is who he is (Exod 3:14), in his nature indeed so simple that he has no parts, so one that he has no numbers. For he is the wisdom of God, of which it is written: "And of his wisdom there is no number" (Ps 146:5). But if what is invariable is necessarily also incomprehensible, and therefore also ineffable; where, I ask, will you find words with which you may either worthily describe that majesty, or properly express it, or fittingly define it? Yet let us speak as best we can of what we perceive as best we can of it, the Holy Spirit revealing it. We are taught by the authority of the Fathers and the custom of the Scriptures that it is permitted to borrow fitting likenesses from known things; but also not to invent new words, but to borrow known ones, with which those same likenesses may be clothed worthily and fittingly. Otherwise you will ridiculously attempt to teach unknown things through unknown things.

8. Therefore because by right and left, adversity and prosperity are usually designated: it seems to me that in this place one may understand the left hand of the Word as the threat of punishment; the right hand, however, as the promise of the kingdom. But there are times when our mind is pressed down in servile fashion by the dread of punishment: and then the left hand is by no means to be said to be under the head, but over the head; nor can a soul so affected say at all that "his left hand is under my head." But truly if one advancing from this spirit of servitude shall have passed into a certain more worthy disposition of willing service, so that one is provoked by rewards rather than constrained by punishments, or rather if one is moved by love of the good itself; then one will undoubtedly be able to say that "his left hand is under my head": inasmuch as one has overcome that servile fear, which is on the left, by a better and more excellent disposition of soul, and by worthy desires has also drawn near to the right hand itself, in which are all the promises, as the Prophet says to the Lord: "Delights in your right hand forevermore" (Ps 15:11). Whence also, having conceived a sure hope, one speaks with confidence: "And his right hand shall embrace me."

9. You now consider with me, whether it is fitting for a soul so disposed and having attained this place of such great sweetness, to borrow also that verse from the psalm, so that she too may say: "In peace, in the selfsame, I will sleep and I will rest"; especially since the reason that follows supplies it: "Because you, O Lord, have singularly established me in hope" (Ps 4:9-10). Which is indeed of this nature. As long as one is pressed by the spirit of servitude, and has little of hope and very much of fear; there is no peace or rest for that one, the conscience indeed fluctuating between hope and fear, and especially because it is tormented more abundantly by the exceeding fear: for fear has punishment. And therefore it is not for that one to say: "In peace, in the selfsame, I will sleep and I will rest," since one cannot yet say that one has been singularly established in hope. But if gradually, through the increase of grace, fear begins to diminish, and hope to advance; when at length it has come to this, that charity rising with all its strength to the aid of hope casts out fear: will not a soul of this kind seem to be singularly established in hope, and therefore also to sleep and rest in peace, in the selfsame?

The law is said to be in his left hand, the gospel in his right. Or, the left hand is to be understood as the present life and the right hand as the future life, which will indeed embrace me after it is said to those on the right: "Come, blessed of my Father." We also read elsewhere: "A long life is in wisdom's right hand and riches and glory in its left hand." Thus, his right hand is the knowledge of divine realities, from which comes eternal life, but his left hand is the knowledge of human realities, from which come riches and glory. He is saying, therefore, My mind exceeds human realities and divine knowledge covers me. For, it is said again: "Honor her that she will embrace you." … Rightly, then, is it said that the right hand embraces and the left hand offers support to the head, for the goods of the present life, however much they are thought to be visible, must be subject to the head of the perfect soul and used only out of necessity, as though they were a pillow for the head. But the goods of the future age, because they exceed human nature, being divine, signify the supernatural through this embrace. Perhaps also, since the hands are symbols of acts, the left hand indicates corporeal deeds, whereas the right hand signifies spiritual work. Because the right hand is more powerful, then, it embraces corporeal necessities.

These two hands are the two covenants of the old law and the gospel. When it refers to his left hand, it indicates the old covenant, but the right hand is the preaching of the gospel. The old covenant is inferior because it is placed beneath the head of the church, who is Christ, whereas the right hand embraced the church, meaning that old sins were covered by the sacraments of the gospel. Whoever goes forth in faith, therefore, and serves Christ with devotion, leaves the old person beneath himself and embraces anew the body of Christ, which is the church.

But we must note what it means that the angel is seen sitting on the right side. For what is designated by the left except the present life, and what by the right except eternal life? Hence it is written in the Song of Songs: "His left hand is under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me." Since therefore our Redeemer had already passed beyond the corruption of the present life, rightly the angel who had come to announce his eternal life was sitting on the right.

The hands are here a figure of wedlock.

Solomon also speaks of the right hand and the left hand in the Song of Songs in the person of the bride: "His left hand is under my head, and his right hand will embrace me." Although she indicates that both are beneficial, yet she puts the former under her head because adversities should be subject to the guidance of the heart. They are beneficial only to the extent that they discipline us for a time, instruct us for salvation and make us perfectly patient. But for being fondled and forever protected she desires the bridegroom's right hand to cling to her and to hold her fast in a saving embrace. - "Conference 6.10.9"

And of this right and left hand Solomon speaks as follows in the Song of Songs, in the person of the bride: "His left hand is under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me." And while this passage shows that both are useful, yet it puts one under the head, because misfortunes ought to be subject to the control of the heart, since they are only useful for this; viz., to train us for a time and discipline us for our salvation and make us perfect in the matter of patience. But the right hand she hopes will ever cling to her to cherish her and hold her fast in the blessed embrace of the Bridegroom, and unite her to him indissolubly. We shall then be ambidextrous, when neither abundance nor want affects us, and when the former does not entice us to the luxury of a dangerous carelessness, while the latter does not draw us to despair, and complaining; but when, giving thanks to God in either case alike, we gain one and the same advantage out of good and bad fortune.

He who has joined you to his company will not sadden you. With his left hand, in which is honor and glory, under your head, with his right arm, in which is length of life, he will embrace you.

But turn yourself quickly toward the life-giving Spirit and, while avoiding physical terms, look keenly at what is the "left hand" of the Word of God and what is the "right hand" and also what is the "head" of his bride, namely of the perfect soul or of the church, and let not the carnal and changeable sense of the word take hold of you.For this here is the "right hand" and "left hand" of the groom, that is said concerning Wisdom in Proverbs, where she says, "Long life is in her right hand, but in her left hand are riches and glory."

By the left hand of the bridegroom the present life is signified, and by the right hand the eternal life. By the head of the bride, moreover, the mind that rules over the soul is understood. But the left hand of the bridegroom is said to be under the head of the bride, and his right hand embraces her, because she always places the temporal life beneath her mind, but desires to embrace the eternal life in every way. For those things which she sees, she tramples with greatness of soul and a lofty mind, and occupies herself with heavenly duties. She endures the former out of necessity, but for the latter she sighs with utmost desire, as if bound by the right arm of the bridegroom. When she enters into these things even a little, she rests delightfully, and out of love for that rest she utterly despises worldly tumults. The bridegroom surely loves her all the more as she rests thus, and drives away all the wicked from disturbing her.

"His left hand under my head, and his right hand will embrace me." Let us be careful once more, however, not to get involved in corporeal ideas on hearing "left hand" and "right hand." Solomon, in fact, speaks of wisdom, which is a habit and not substance: "Length of life and years of existence are in her right hand, and in her left wealth and glory." Likewise regarding the "embrace" you can find in the Proverbs the saying, "Love her, and she will keep you safe; ring her about with a rampart, and she will exalt you; honor her, and she will embrace you." Let us take occasion from this, then, to understand the references spiritually, believing the so-called embrace to be a communion between the divine Word and the pious soul, and the "right and left hands" should be understood in the way taken by us. So as not to leave its deeper meaning undiscerned, however, let us interpret it this way: God is in the habit of bestowing both beneficence and punishment, distributing both to those who deserve them. Let us accordingly understand beneficent grace in the case of the right hand, and punishment in the case of the left, and thus listen to the bride saying, "His left hand under my head," that is, "I am beyond punishments, I am not subject to them, on account of my closeness to the bridegroom and my attention to his service"; and "His right hand will embrace me," that is, "He will regale me with his beneficence and fill me with it as though enfolding and embracing me, and satisfying my desire."

I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles and the hinds of the field, etc. The daughters of Jerusalem signify souls burning with the desire for the heavenly homeland. The bridegroom adjures these souls not to awaken the bride resting in His love, neither presume to disturb her happily asleep from human disturbances. For whoever unduly disrupts an elect soul, either speaking to God in devout prayers or meditating on divine commandments or promises in sacred readings, indeed awakens the bride of Christ from blessed slumber before she herself wishes. For the bride herself desires to awaken refreshed by this most blessed sleep since she knows to devote herself to divine duties at the appropriate time and then to return at a fitting time to care for the necessities of human frailty. Therefore, whoever does not fear to impede any of the faithful intent on heavenly studies indeed harms his own virtues, which he believes to possess. Hence, the bridegroom rightly adjures the daughters of Jerusalem by the gazelles and the hinds of the field not to do this. By gazelles and hinds, notably pure animals and enemies of poison, the works of spiritual virtues are figured; which, just as they excel in purity, so they have been accustomed to scorn, even destroy and annihilate the harmful schemes of the ancient enemy. And beautifully referring to the gazelles and hinds, he adds, of the field, to patiently express the simplicity of pure souls and those blooming with sincere faith in which virtues arise and are nurtured. Thus, the bridegroom adjures the daughters of Jerusalem by the gazelles and hinds of the field not to awaken nor rouse the beloved until she herself wishes. As if he openly says: I adjure all the faithful, and by their own virtues, which they desire to nurture with a pure heart, not to disdain the holy studies of the brethren, not to hinder them recklessly, but let each one rejoice in the progress of others just as in their own, and let them fear to inflict losses on the spiritual gain of the brethren as they would fear to inflict on themselves; for he undoubtedly diminishes his own virtues who scorns to spare, rather to assist, the virtues of his neighbor as much as he can. The bride gladly receiving this adjuration of the bridegroom immediately responds: The voice of my beloved. It is understood, This is the one I heard adjuring the daughters of Jerusalem not to wake me resting in His embrace until I myself wish. For surely it is necessary for a soul filled with God to greatly rejoice when amidst the adversities of the world it happens to hear His comforting voice, either through the gift of hidden inspiration or through meditation or hearing of sacred scriptures. For even if we are not yet allowed to behold the face of our beloved, it is already a great gift to be refreshed in the meantime by the sweetness of His words in the holy Scriptures. A great benefit is conferred to those to whom a higher gift is granted that, with a gaze of a pure mind lifted to heavenly things, they may even now taste some of the sweetness of future life. Hence it is fitting, after the bride joyfully says, The voice of my beloved, immediately desiring to also see the same beloved but not yet able...

10. "If you sleep between the midst of the lots, the wings of the dove are silvered" (Ps 67:14). Which I think was said for this reason: that there is a place between fear and security, as between the left and the right, namely the middle place of hope, in which the mind and conscience, with the soft bedding of charity laid beneath, rests most sweetly. And perhaps in what follows in this very canticle, this place will have been designated, where in the description of the litter of Solomon among other things you have: "The middle he spread with charity on account of the daughters of Jerusalem" (Song 3:10). For he who feels himself singularly established in hope no longer serves in fear, but rests in charity. And so the bride rests and sleeps, on whose behalf it is said: "I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles and the deer of the fields, that you do not rouse or cause to awaken the beloved, until she herself wills." Great and astonishing is the condescension, that he makes the contemplating soul rest in his bosom, and moreover guards her from troublesome cares, and protects her from the disturbances of actions and the annoyances of business; nor does he allow her to be awakened at all, except indeed at her own will.

1. "I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles and the deer of the fields, that you do not rouse or cause to awaken the beloved, until she herself wills" (Song 2:7). The young maidens are forbidden: for he calls these the daughters of Jerusalem, because, even if they are delicate and soft, and as if still weak with womanly affections and actions, they nevertheless cling to the bride in the hope of advancing and of setting out for Jerusalem. They are forbidden, therefore, from the disturbance of the sleeping bride, lest, namely, they presume to awaken her in any way contrary to her own will. For the most sweet Bridegroom has placed his left hand under her head, according to the things that have been set forth above, so that he might cause her to rest and sleep in his bosom. And now, as the Scripture proceeds in turn, he himself, as her guardian, most graciously and most benevolently watches over her, lest, disturbed by the frequent and minor needs of the young maidens, she be forced to awaken. This is the literal coherence of the text. But indeed that adjuration made by the gazelles and the deer of the fields seems to have nothing at all of reasonable consequence according to the letter; to such a degree does the spiritual understanding claim it entirely for itself. But in whatever way that may stand, in the meantime it is good for us to be here, and to contemplate for a little while the goodness, sweetness, and condescension of the divine nature. For what, O man, have you ever experienced sweeter among human affections, than is now expressed to you from the heart of the Most High? And it is expressed by him who searches the deep things of God, and cannot be ignorant of what is in him, because he is his Spirit; nor can he speak anything other than what he has seen with him, since he is the Spirit of truth.

2. And indeed there is not lacking in our kind one who has merited to be made glad, blessed by this gift, and to have had in himself the experience of this most sweet mystery; unless, however, we entirely refuse to believe the passage of Scripture that is before us, where the heavenly Bridegroom is manifestly shown to be most vehemently zealous for the rest of a certain beloved of his, anxious to guard her sleeping in his own arms, lest she be perhaps disturbed from her most sweet sleep by some trouble or unrest. I cannot contain myself for joy, that that majesty does not at all disdain to incline itself to our weakness in so familiar and sweet a fellowship, and that the supreme Deity does not despise entering into marriage with an exiled soul, and showing to her the affection of a bridegroom seized with most ardent love. Thus, thus I do not doubt it is in heaven, as I read on earth, and the soul will feel for certain what the page contains, except that the page is not sufficient at all to express how much the soul will then be able to receive, nor even how much it already can. What, do you think, will she receive there, who here is endowed with such great familiarity, that she feels herself embraced by the arms of God, cherished in the bosom of God, guarded by the care and zeal of God, lest while sleeping she be awakened by anyone, until she awakens of her own accord?

3. Come then, let us say if we can, what that sleep may be, in which the Bridegroom wills his beloved to fall asleep, and does not suffer her at all to be awakened except at her own will; lest perhaps when someone reads in the Apostle: "It is now the hour for us to rise from sleep" (Rom 13:11), or in the Prophet, that he entreats God himself that his eyes may be enlightened lest he ever sleep in death (Ps 12:4), he be troubled by the equivocation of the terms, and not find at all what he might worthily think of the slumber of the bride that is spoken of in this place. For not even that which the Lord says of Lazarus in the Gospel is similar to this: "Lazarus our friend sleeps, let us go and awaken him from sleep" (Jn 11:11). For this he was saying of the death of his body, while the disciples thought it was said of the repose of sleep. But the sleep of the bride is not a slumber of the body, neither the peaceful kind, which gently lulls the senses of the flesh for a time, nor the dreadful kind, which is accustomed to take away life utterly. Much more indeed is it remote from that sleep in which one sleeps unto death, when, namely, one perseveres irrevocably in a sin that is unto death. Rather this sort of living and watchful slumber illuminates the interior sense, and, having driven away death, bestows eternal life. For it is truly a slumber, which however does not stupefy the sense, but carries it away. It is also a death, which I would say without hesitation, since the Apostle, commending certain ones still living in the flesh, speaks thus: "You are dead, and your life is hidden with Christ in God" (Col 3:3).

4. Therefore I too would not absurdly call the ecstasy of the bride a death, one which however snatches her not from life, but from the snares of life, so that she may say: "Our soul, like a sparrow, has been snatched from the snare of the hunters" (Ps 123:7). For one walks in the midst of snares in this life, which indeed are not feared as often as the soul is carried away from itself by some holy and vehement thought; if only the mind so withdraws and flies away as also to transcend this common use and habit of thinking: for indeed "the net is spread in vain before the eyes of the winged" (Prov 1:17). For why should luxury be feared, where not even life is felt? For when the soul departs, if not from life, certainly from the sense of life, it is necessary that the temptation of life also not be felt. "Who will give me wings like a dove, and I will fly, and I will rest?" (Ps 54:7). Would that I might frequently fall by this death, so as to escape the snares of death, so as not to feel the deadly blandishments of a life given to luxury, so as to be numb to the sense of lust, to the heat of avarice, to the stings of anger and impatience, to the anguish of anxieties and the troubles of cares! Let my soul die the death of the just, so that no deceit may ensnare it, no iniquity may delight it. Good is the death that does not take away life, but transfers it to what is better; good, in which the body does not fall, but the soul is raised up.

5. But this is the death of men. Yet let my soul die also the death, if it can be said, of the angels, so that, departing from the memory of present things, it may strip itself not only of the desires but also of the likenesses of lower and corporeal things, and its conversation with those with whom there is a likeness of purity may be pure. Such an ecstasy, as I think, is either solely or chiefly called contemplation. For not to be held by the desires of things while living is a matter of human virtue; but not to be entangled by the likenesses of bodies while contemplating is a matter of angelic purity. Each, however, is a matter of the divine gift; each is a going out, each is a transcending of yourself, but the one goes far, the other not far. Blessed is he who can say: "Behold, I have gone far away in flight, and I have remained in solitude" (Ps 54:8). He was not content to go out, unless he also made himself far away, so that he might rest. You have leapt past the delights of the flesh, so that you no longer obey its desires, nor are held by its enticements: you have advanced, you have separated yourself, but you have not yet gone far away, unless you also prevail by purity of mind to fly beyond the phantasms of corporeal likenesses rushing in from every side. Until that point, do not promise yourself rest. You err, if you think to find on this side of that the place of quiet, the secret of solitude, the serenity of light, the dwelling place of peace. But give me one who has arrived there, and I will unhesitatingly confess him to be at rest, who may rightly say: "Return, O my soul, to your rest; because the Lord has been bountiful to you" (Ps 114:7). And this is truly a place in solitude and a dwelling in light, altogether according to the prophet, "a tabernacle for shade from the heat by day, for security and for a hiding place from the storm and from rain" (Isa 4:6); concerning which also the holy David says: "He hid me," he says, "in his tabernacle in the day of evils, he protected me in the secret place of his tabernacle" (Ps 26:5).

6. Think therefore that the bride has withdrawn into this solitude, and there, on account of the pleasantness of the place, has sweetly fallen asleep amid the embraces of the Bridegroom, that is, has gone out in spirit, when the young maidens were forbidden to awaken her, until she herself should will. But how was this done? For they were not forbidden simply, nor with a light admonition, as is customary; but with an altogether new and unusual adjuration, namely by the gazelles and the deer of the fields. By this kind of wild creature, it seems to me, the holy souls stripped of bodies are suitably enough expressed, and likewise the angels who are with God, on account of the keenness of their sight and the swiftness of their leaping. For we know that both of these things are fitting for both kinds of spirits: for they easily seek the heights and penetrate the innermost depths. Their dwelling also, designated in the fields, evidently marks out the free and unimpeded courses of contemplation. What then does the adjuration made by these mean? Assuredly, that the restless young maidens should not dare, for some slight reason, to call the beloved away from so reverend a company, with which she is without doubt mingled as often as she goes out in contemplation. Beautifully, therefore, they are frightened by the authority of those from whose fellowship it is clear she is torn away by their importunity. Let the young maidens consider whom they offend when they likewise disturb their mother; and let them not so rely on maternal charity as not to fear intruding without great necessity upon that heavenly assembly. For let them consider that this is what they do, as often as they are troublesome beyond what is just to one resting in contemplation. It is, to be sure, placed in her own will both to be free for herself and to attend to the care of those young maidens, as she shall judge it fitting, since she is forbidden to be awakened by them until she herself wills. The Bridegroom knows with how great a love the bride burns also toward her neighbors, and that the mother is sufficiently moved by her own charity concerning the progress of the daughters, and that she will in no way withdraw or deny herself to them as much and as often as shall be necessary: and therefore he judged that this dispensation should be securely entrusted to her discretion. For she is not of such a kind as we see many marked by the prophetic branding, who, "taking for themselves what is fat and strong, cast away what is weak" (Ezek 34:3-4). Does the physician seek those who are well, and not rather those who are sick? If it should happen, he acts perhaps as a friend, but not as a physician. Whom will you teach, good Master, if you have repelled all the unlearned? To whom, I ask, will you apply the diligence of discipline, if you have either driven away all the undisciplined, or fled from them? In whom, I beseech, will you prove your patience, if you have admitted only the gentle and excluded the restless?

7. There are, however, among those sitting here, some who I wish would observe the present chapter more attentively. They would certainly consider how great a reverence is owed to superiors, whom, by rashly disturbing them, they render themselves troublesome also to the citizens of heaven: and perhaps they would at last begin to spare us a little more than usual, and no longer thrust themselves upon us so irreverently and lightly when we are at leisure. Rare enough is the hour granted to me for resting from those who come upon me, as they well know, even when they themselves will bear with me in all patience. But I raise this kind of complaint rather scrupulously, lest perhaps some fainthearted one should conceal his needs beyond the strength of his own patience, while he fears to disturb me. I desist therefore, lest I seem rather to give an example of impatience to the weak. The little ones of the Lord are those who believe in him; I do not suffer that they should receive scandal from me (Mt 18:6). I do not use this power; rather let them use me as they please: only let them be saved. They will spare me if they have not spared me, and I will rather rest in this, if they have not feared to disturb me for their needs. I will accommodate them as far as I shall be able, and in them I will serve my God as long as I shall live, in charity unfeigned. I will not seek the things that are my own; nor what is useful to me, but what is useful to many, that I will judge to be useful to me. This alone I pray, that my ministry may be made acceptable and fruitful to them, if perhaps even from this I may find mercy in the evil day in the eyes of their Father and likewise of the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who with him is over all things God blessed forever. Amen.

An oath works in two ways. In the present text, the soul is progressing toward great heights, as we have seen. At the same time she is instructing less advanced souls in the way of perfection. She uses the oath not to assure them of the progress she herself has made but to lead them through their oath to a life of virtue. She adjures them to keep their love alert and watchful until his good will come to fulfillment, that is, until all are saved and come to a knowledge of the truth.

"I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the powers and the forces of the field, that you arouse and waken love as far as it pleases." This verse is of great difficulty. However, it is often necessary to let the understanding run towards the point of the text, in imitation of those who in the practice of archery release many arrows at the target but can hardly reach it even one time. Indeed, there is a resemblance to archers on the part of those who apply their craft to the divine Scripture as if aiming an arrow directly at the point of a passage. It is not easy to say to which of the characters should be applied the expression "to awaken love." To express this in a better way, the act of wakening love is clearly assigned to the "daughters of Jerusalem," but in whom is love to be awakened? In themselves, in the bridegroom, or in the one who is speaking? This is uncertain. For this reason it is necessary to try to fit the meaning of the passage to each example and whatever one finds in the way of a target that has been hit, whether close to "love" or to "truth," that must be accepted as a successful explanation.

Deer and goats are said to be clean animals in the law. What then do we understand by deer and goats, if not faith, hope, and charity? While we keep these clean within ourselves, through them we ascend the high mountains of contemplation. But the holy soul, the bride of Christ, desires to rest from all the disturbances of the world; she longs to sleep in holy leisure in the bosom of the bridegroom, with earthly desires lulled to rest, so that she sometimes even disdains necessary conversations, and rejoices in the conversation of the bridegroom alone all the more serenely the more quietly it takes place. But the carnal ones who are in the Church sometimes rudely awaken her as she sleeps; they desire to entangle her in the affairs of the world, because they consider her life useless when they see her abstaining from their cares. Such people are quite fittingly called not sons but daughters, because while they nurture effeminate habits, having lost manly dignity, what they are inwardly is outwardly designated by a feminine name. These are forbidden under the weight of an oath to awaken the beloved, lest they disturb the mind that girds itself to be free for God and longs to cling to spiritual pursuits alone with importunate anxieties, and cloud the eye of her heart with the darkness of earthly cares. And yet not all care for her neighbor is forbidden to her, but when she ought to be awakened is left to her own will, because indeed every perfect soul must discern both when to devote herself to heavenly contemplation and when to serve the needs of her neighbors.

"I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, by the powers and forces of the field to stir up and awaken love for as long as he wishes," that is, "Do not allow love for God in us to slumber: stir it up and inflame it, and pour the memory of kindnesses like oil on it lest it be said of us also, 'They fell into a deep sleep, and found nothing.' " In other words, if you do not proclaim day in day out his salvation and recall the marvels he worked, and instead you forget his kindnesses, love will be extinguished and die, as it were. We must, on the contrary, continually rekindle it, stir it up and lift the flame itself on high.

For at first, impatient of love and unable to bear the delays of the Word, she prays to be worthy of kisses, and she deserved to see the desired. Secondly, when she was also introduced into the king's chambers and engaged in mutual conversation, she rested in his shadow, and suddenly the Word departed from the midst of their conversation; however, it was not absent for long, but came forth leaping over the mountains and bounding over the hills. And not long after, like a young deer or a fawn, while addressing his beloved, he leaped forth and departed.

Behold, he comes leaping upon the mountains, etc. He calls those mountains and hills who, with singular purity of mind, transcend the common conduct of the holy Church, almost like the blooming plain of the fields, and the more they render themselves lighter from the desire of the lowly, the more capable of contemplating the heavenly they become. Of whom Isaiah, when describing the coming in the flesh of the Mediator of God and men, said: "And in the last days, the mountain of the house of the Lord shall be prepared on the top of the mountains, and shall be exalted above the hills" (Isaiah II). For rightly that mountain is said to be on the top of the mountains, and to be exalted above the hills, that is, it is remembered as being higher than the high men, because, indeed, in the last days, a man appeared among men, but He existed as God with the Father before the ages. But coming upon these mountains, the Beloved is said to leap, to pass over these hills, because the Lord frequently illuminates the hearts of the sublime with the grace of His visitation. And it is beautifully said that he does not remain on these hills, but leaps or passes over them, because the sweetness of internal contemplation, as high as it is due to the recognition of heavenly things, is equally brief and rare, due to the heaviness of minds still held down by the mass of the flesh. For the corruptible body weighs down the soul, and the earthly habitation depresses the mind that thinks on many things (Wisdom IX). Nor should it be thought contrary to this sentiment, that the Beloved Himself also promises His spouse in the Gospel, saying: "Behold, I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world" (Matthew XXVIII). And again, "If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him, and make our abode with him" (John XIV). For He always remains, through His faith and love, and through the assistance of His grace, with all the saints; but more excellently, for a short time, He appears to a few of the more sublime, to whom He wills and when He wills: for it is the saying of a few, and of those who, due to the loftiness of their hearts, are compared to mountains and hills, "For whether we are beside ourselves, it is to God; or whether we are sober, it is for your cause" (II Corinthians V). But it is said to all the faithful, "Whoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwells in him, and he in God" (I John IV). It is for the entire Church to hear with a faithful heart, "Because God is love; and he that dwells in love, dwells in God, and God in him." It is only for the perfect to say, "For we have not followed cunningly devised fables, when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of His majesty" (II Peter I). An evident example of this contemplation is further added...

"The voice of my beloved." The bride, seeing the new modesty of the young maidens, and their modest fear, namely that they had newly begun not to dare to intrude upon her holy leisure, nor to presume to be troublesome to her as she rested in contemplation, as yesterday and the day before: she recognizes that this had come about for her by the care and work of the Bridegroom; and exulting in spirit, whether on account of their progress, in that they are restrained from excessive and superfluous restlessness, or on account of her own freer quiet henceforth to come, or even on account of the condescension and favor of the Bridegroom, who so zealously guards this very rest of hers, and with such great zeal defends her most sweet leisure—nay, her most fervent pursuits—she says that the voice of her beloved does this, made unto them for this purpose. For indeed he who presides over others in solicitude scarcely ever, or rarely, securely attends to himself, while he always fears to cause a lack of himself to his subjects, and not to please God, in that he prefers his own quiet and the sweetness of contemplation to the common advantage. But no small joy and security accrues from time to time to one sweetly resting, when, from a certain fear and reverence toward her divinely sent into the hearts of subjects, she understands that her rest is pleasing to God, who causes them to bear their own necessities with a more equable spirit rather than dare rashly to disturb the welcome leisure of their spiritual father. For the just trepidation of the little ones manifestly indicates that they have heard within, as it were, the threatening and rebuking voice, without doubt, of him who speaks in the prophet: "I who speak justice" (Isa 63:1). His voice is his inspiration, and the striking of just fear.

Having discovered this voice, therefore, the bride, rejoicing and exulting, says: "The voice of my beloved." She is a friend, and rejoices with joy on account of the voice of the Bridegroom. And she adds: "Behold, he comes leaping upon the mountains, bounding over the hills." Having discovered from the hearing of the voice the presence of the beloved, she without delay directs her well-curious eyes to see him whom she had heard. Hearing leads to sight, because faith comes from hearing (Rom 10:17), by which hearts are cleansed so that God may be seen: for thus you have: "Cleansing their hearts by faith" (Acts 15:9). She sees therefore the one coming, whom she had heard speaking, the Holy Spirit observing also here that order which is described in the Prophet thus: "Hear, O daughter, and see" (Ps 44:11). And that you may more surely notice that it is not by chance or accident, but rather by design and purpose, that hearing is here placed before seeing; see whether this order of words is not found observed also by holy Job, where he speaks thus to God: "By the hearing of the ear I heard you, and now my eye sees you" (Job 42:5). But also where the Holy Spirit is recalled to have descended upon the apostles on the day of Pentecost, is not hearing described as having preceded sight? For it says: "Suddenly there came from heaven a sound as of a rushing mighty wind"; and below: "And there appeared to them divided tongues as of fire" (Acts 2:2, 3). And here therefore the coming of the Holy Spirit is reported to have been perceived first by hearing, then by sight.

Now let us consider that which requires more diligent inquiry: who those mountains or hills are, upon which, leaping and bounding over them, the Church beheld the Bridegroom with joyful gaze, as he hastened to the redemption of her whose beauty he had desired. Something similar from the Prophet occurs to me, evidently foreseeing in spirit and expressing the coming of the Savior: "In the sun he has set his tabernacle, and he himself as a bridegroom coming forth from his bridal chamber. He exulted as a giant to run his course: from the highest heaven is his going forth, and his circuit unto the highest part thereof" (Ps 18:6, 7). Shall we picture to ourselves a man of giant stature, captured by love of some absent little woman, and, while he hastens to the desired embraces, leaping over these mountains and hills which we see rising by their corporeal mass above the flat earth? Truly it is not fitting to imagine corporeal phantasies of this kind, especially when treating this spiritual canticle: but neither is it in any way permitted to us, who remember having read in the Gospel that "God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit" (Jn 4:24).

Who then are these spiritual mountains and hills, so that we may afterward consequently recognize what kind and what manner of leaps the Bridegroom (who is God, and therefore also spirit) gave upon them, or over them? If we think of those in which the Gospel relates that ninety-nine sheep were once left, when the pious shepherd came to seek on earth the one that had perished (Mt 18:12); the matter is nonetheless still in obscurity, and the understanding halts: since it is difficult to discover what or what kind of other spiritual mountains or hills likewise those spiritual and super-celestial blessednesses (for they themselves are without doubt the sheep which are there mentioned) have for dwelling in, or being pastured upon. Nevertheless, if some did not exist in truth, the Truth would not have said this. Nor would the Prophet long before have declared of the heavenly city Jerusalem that "its foundations are in the holy mountains" (Ps 86:1), if there were not truly holy mountains there. Finally, that that celestial habitation truly has not only spiritual, but also living and rational mountains and hills, hear Isaiah: "The mountains and the hills shall sing praises before God" (Isa 55:12).

Who then are these, if not those same spirits who inhabit the heavens, whom by the Lord's voice we have said are called sheep, so that they themselves are the mountains who are the sheep? Unless perhaps it seems absurd to you that either mountains are pastured upon mountains, or sheep upon sheep. And according to the letter indeed it sounds harsh; but according to the spiritual understanding it has a sweet taste, if we subtly observe how the pastor of both flocks, namely Christ the wisdom of God, administers one and the same pasture of truth in one way on earth, in another way among his heavenly flocks. For we mortal men in the meantime in the place of our pilgrimage must eat our bread in the sweat of our face, begging it from outside in labor and hardship; that is, either from learned men, or from sacred books, or certainly, through the things that have been made, beholding the invisible things of God understood. But the angels in all fullness, if not from themselves, yet in themselves, receive with as much ease as felicity that by which they also live blessedly. For they are all taught of God: which the elect of men are promised with certain truth to attain one day, but are not yet granted to experience with secure felicity.

Mountains are pastured upon mountains, therefore, or sheep upon sheep, when indeed those heavenly spiritual substances find abundantly within themselves, from the Word of life, that by which they perpetuate their blessed life; they themselves being both mountains and sheep: mountains, on account of their fullness or loftiness; sheep, on account of their meekness. Full indeed of God, lofty in merits, heaped with virtues, they nonetheless submit and incline their upraised summits with total and humble obedience to the command of that far surpassing majesty, as most meek sheep walking in all things at the nod of their shepherd, and following him wherever he goes. And in these, according to the prophet David, truly holy mountains, as it were the first-created wisdom, the foundations of the city of the Lord from the beginning stand firmly established (Ps 86:1); which city is assuredly one in heaven and on earth, although partly on pilgrimage, and partly reigning. And from these likewise, according to Isaiah, as from certain living cymbals sounding well, continual thanksgiving resounds, and the voice of praise (Isa 51:3), filling with sweet and unceasing voice what we recalled a little earlier from the same Prophet, that "the mountains and the hills shall sing praises before God": and likewise what that other one says, speaking to the Lord God: "Blessed are those who dwell in your house, O Lord: they shall praise you forever and ever" (Ps 83:5).

These therefore are the mountains and hills upon which the Church saw the heavenly Bridegroom leaping with wondrous eagerness, as he hastened to her embraces; and not only leaping, but also bounding over them. David says of him that "he set his tabernacle in the sun, and he himself as a bridegroom coming forth from his bridal chamber: he exulted as a giant to run his course, from the highest heaven is his going forth" (Ps 18:6, 7). Behold what a great leap he gave, from the highest heaven to earth! For indeed I do not find elsewhere where he set his tabernacle in the sun, that is, where the dweller in inaccessible light deigned to display his presence in the light and in the open, except assuredly on earth. Finally: "On earth he was seen, and he conversed with men" (Bar 3:38). On earth, I say, openly, which is "in the sun," he set his tabernacle, namely the body, which he deigned to fashion for himself from the body of the Virgin for this purpose, that in it he, invisible in himself, might be seen; and thus all flesh might see the salvation of God, since he had come in the flesh.

He leaped therefore upon the mountains, that is, upon those supreme spirits, when he descended even to them, graciously revealing to them the mystery hidden from the ages, and the great mystery of godliness. But bounding over these higher and more eminent mountains, namely the cherubim and seraphim, and also the dominations, principalities and powers, and the virtues, he deigned to descend even to the lower order of angels, as to the hills. But did he even remain among them? He bounded over the hills also. For, it says, "not angels, but the seed of Abraham he takes hold of" (Heb 2:16), which is assuredly lower than the angels, so that the word might be fulfilled which the aforementioned Prophet spoke, saying thus to the Father concerning the Son: "You have made him a little less than the angels" (Ps 8:6). Although this can indeed be understood as said in commendation of human nature, in that man, made in the image and likeness of God, and endowed with reason in the likeness assuredly of an angel, yet differs a little from the angel on account of his body from the earth. But hear the apostle Paul openly declaring concerning him: "Who, being in the form of God, did not consider it robbery to be equal with God: because he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of men, and found in appearance as a man" (Phil 2:6, 7); and again: "When the fullness of time had come," he says, "God sent his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, that he might redeem those who were under the law" (Gal 4:4, 5). He therefore who was made of a woman, and made under the law, without doubt not only bounded over the mountains, that is, the greater and higher blessednesses, but also the lesser angels by descending, who indeed in comparison with the higher ones are deservedly designated by the name of hills. For the rest, he who is lesser in the kingdom of heaven is greater than anyone bearing flesh upon the earth, even if that one be the great John the Baptist (Lk 7:28). For even though we confess that God as man also surpasses by far, incomparably, all principality and power; it is certain, however, that although he goes before in majesty, yet in infirmity he succumbed. Thus therefore he leaped upon the mountains, and bounded over the hills, when he most graciously showed himself lower not only than the higher, but also than the lower spirits. And not only to those heavenly spirits, but also to those very ones who inhabit houses of clay, did he show himself subject, bounding over and surpassing in humility even the humility of men. For he was indeed subject to Mary and Joseph, when he was twelve years old, at Nazareth (Lk 2:51, 42): and at the Jordan he inclined himself, now a young man, to the hands of John (Mt 3:13).

On the same chapter which was treated in yesterday's sermon, I am about to speak also another understanding which I have reserved for today: do you examine it, and choose what is better. There is no need to repeat what came before, which I do not think has slipped your mind in so short a time. If it has, however, what was said has been written down and taken down with a stylus, just as the other sermons, so that what has perhaps slipped away may easily be recovered. Therefore receive these other things. "Behold, he comes," she says, "leaping upon the mountains, bounding over the hills" (Song 2:8). She speaks of the Bridegroom: who indeed leaped upon the mountains at that time, when, sent by the Father to preach good tidings to the poor, he did not disdain to perform the office of Angels, being made the Angel of great counsel, he who was the Lord. He descended to the earth by himself, who was accustomed to delegate others: by himself the Lord made known his salvation, by himself in the sight of the nations he revealed his justice (Ps 97:2). Since, therefore, all are, according to Paul's declaration, ministering spirits, sent for service on account of those who receive the inheritance of salvation (Heb 1:14); he who was above them was made among them as one of them, concealing the injury, heaping up the grace. But hear him: "I came," he says, "not to be served, but to serve, and to give my life for many" (Mt 20:28). Which indeed no one else has been found to have done, so that all who have been seen to minister, he himself has surpassed in devoted and faithful services. A good minister, who ministered his flesh as food, his blood as drink, his soul as a price. Good indeed, who, eager in spirit, fervent in charity, devoted in piety, not only leaps upon the mountains, but also bounds over the hills, that is, surpasses and conquers them in the eagerness of his ministering, inasmuch as God his God anointed him with the oil of gladness beyond his companions (Ps 44:8): in which indeed he singularly exulted as a giant to run his course. And so he bounded over Gabriel, and arrived before him at the Virgin, the same archangel bearing witness, when he said: "Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you" (Lk 1:28). What? Him whom you just left in heaven, now you find in a womb. How? He flew and flew ahead upon the wings of the winds. You are vanquished, O archangel: he who sent you before him has bounded over you.

Or certainly he was leaping upon the mountains, when in angels he appeared of old to the fathers: which indeed seems to agree more properly with the letter. For he does not say, "leaping onto the mountains"; but, "upon the mountains," so that he himself may seem to leap in them, who makes and gives them to leap; just as he speaks in the prophets, works in the just, when he bestows words on the former, and works on the latter. Add that some of them bore his person, so that each one of them spoke, not as an angel, but as the Lord. For example, that angel who was speaking with Moses said, not, "I am of the Lord," but, "I am the Lord," and repeated this very frequently. He was leaping therefore upon the mountains, that is, in the angels, in whom he both spoke and exhibited his presence to men. For he was leaping to men, but in angels, not in himself; not in his own nature, but in a subject creature. For he who leaps goes from place to place: which does not apply to God. Therefore upon the mountains, that is, in the angels, he leaped, who could not in himself; and he leaped all the way to the hills, that is, the patriarchs and prophets, and the other spiritual men of the earth. But he bounded over the hills also, since he deigned not only to speak and appear in angels to great and spiritual men, but also to some of the people, and even to some women as well. Or by hills he means the aerial powers, which are no longer counted among the mountains, for the reason that they have flowed down from the height of virtues through pride; nor yet do they subside to the low places of the valleys, or to the valleys of the humble through repentance. Of these I believe that saying in the psalms was spoken: "The mountains melted like wax before the face of the Lord" (Ps 96:5). These swollen and barren hills, therefore, as though placed in the middle between the mountains of the perfect and the valleys of the penitent, he has beyond doubt bounded over, who leaps upon the mountains; and passing by and despising them he descends to the valleys, that the valleys may abound with grain. But they on the other hand are condemned to eternal dryness and barrenness, as you have the prophet's imprecation upon them: "Neither dew," he says, "nor rain descend upon you." And that you may know that under the figure of the mountains of Gilboa he speaks of the angels who transgressed, "Where," he says, "many wounded fell" (2 Sam 1:21). How many on these cursed mountains have fallen from the army of Israel from the beginning, and fall daily! Of whom you also have in the same prophet, when he says to the Lord: "Like the wounded sleeping in tombs, whom you remember no more, and they have been cast out from your hand" (Ps 87:6).

It is therefore not surprising, if these remain barren and unfruitful, not heavenly mountains, but aerial hills, upon which neither dew nor rain descends; since the author of grace and the bestower of blessings bounds over them, and descends to the valleys, that he may drench with heavenly rain the humble who are upon the earth, and they may bear fruit in patience, fruit thirtyfold, sixtyfold, and a hundredfold (Mt 13:8, 23; Lk 8:15). And so he visited the earth, and made it drunk: he multiplied to enrich it (Ps 64:10). He visited the earth, not the air, because the earth is full of the mercy of the Lord (Ps 32:5). And so, "He worked salvation in the midst of the earth" (Ps 73:12); did he also in the midst of the air? This against Origen, who with a shameless lie crucifies the Lord of glory anew in the air for the sake of demons, while Paul, conscious of this mystery, affirms that "rising from the dead he dies no more, death shall have dominion over him no more" (Rom 6:9).

But not only did he visit the earth, who bounded over the air, but also heaven, as Scripture says: "O Lord, in heaven is your mercy, and your truth reaches to the clouds" (Ps 35:6). For up to the clouds is the heaven which the holy angels inhabit, whom the Bridegroom did not bound over, but leaps in them, so that he imprints upon them two certain footprints of his feet, mercy and truth: concerning which footprints of the Lord I recall having discussed more fully in earlier sermons. But from the clouds and below is the habitation of demons in this lowest and murky air; in whom the Bridegroom does not leap, but bounds over them and passes by, and they retain in themselves no footprint of God passing through. For how is there truth in the devil, of whom in the Gospels this judgment of the Truth stands, that he did not stand in the truth, but was a liar from the beginning? But neither would anyone call him merciful, who is equally convicted by that same truth of the Gospel to have been a murderer from the beginning (Jn 8:44). But as the master of the household, so also are his household members. Beautifully therefore the Church, singing of the Bridegroom, that he dwells on high and looks upon the lowly things in heaven and on earth (Ps 112:5-6), makes absolutely no mention of those spirits of pride who dwell in the air, since God resists the proud and gives grace to the humble (Jas 4:6).

She sees him therefore leaping upon the mountains and bounding over the hills, according to the imprecation of David who says: "All the mountains that are round about him," that is, round about Gilboa, "let the Lord visit; but from Gilboa let him pass by" (2 Sam 1:21). For the devil, who is designated by Gilboa, has mountains on either side which the Lord visits: above the angels, below men. For as his punishment he has received by lot a place in this air, midway between heaven and earth, having fallen from heaven, so that he may see and envy, and be tormented by that very envy, as Scripture says: "The sinner shall see and be angry, he shall gnash with his teeth and waste away" (Ps 111:10). How wretched, when he looks up at the heavens, in which he beholds innumerable mountains shining with divine brightness, resounding with divine praises, lofty in glory, abounding in grace! How much more wretched, when he looks down upon the earth, having likewise very many mountains from the people of God's possession, solid in faith, lofty in hope, spacious in charity, adorned with virtues, filled with the fruits of good works, from the dew of heaven as from the leap of the Bridegroom taking daily blessing! With how much grief and rancor, do we think, does that one most greedy for glory look upon these mountains around him so glorious, while he looks down upon himself and his own in contrast as uncultivated, dark, barren of all goods, so that he feels himself to be the reproach of men and angels, he who reproached all, according to that in the Psalms: "This dragon which you formed to make sport of him" (Ps 103:26).

And this because, on account of their own pride, the Bridegroom bounds over them, leaping upon the mountains that are round about him, as a fountain ascending from the midst of paradise, irrigating all things, and filling every creature with blessing. Blessed are they who from the torrent of this pleasure are deemed worthy to drink from time to time, or even rarely, in whom, even if it does not flow continuously, at least through certain hours the water of wisdom and the fountain of life leaps, so that there may be made in them also a fountain of water leaping unto eternal life. And indeed the rush of this river gladdens the city of God, assuredly perpetually and abundantly. But upon our mountains that are on earth, would that from time to time, as if by a kind of flooding, he would not disdain to give certain leaps, by which, being sufficiently irrigated, they too might distill even rare drops for us, who are the valleys, lest we remain altogether dry and barren! Misery, and want, and altogether a mighty famine in that region which is never moistened by any such leaps or instillings, the fountain of wisdom flowing past and bounding over it: "And because they did not have wisdom," he says, "they perished on account of their foolishness" (Bar 3:28).

"Behold, he comes leaping upon the mountains, bounding over the hills." He leaps in order to bound over, who does not wish to reach all; for God is not well pleased in all. Brothers, if, according to the wisdom of Paul, these things have been written for our correction (1 Cor 10:11), let us observe the discerning and circumspect leaps of the Bridegroom, namely how, both among the Angels and among us, he leaps upon the humble and bounds over the proud: since the exalted Lord looks upon the lowly, and the lofty he knows from afar (Ps 137:6). Let us, I say, attend to these things, so that we may be cautious to prepare ourselves for the saving leaps of the Bridegroom, lest as from the mountains of Gilboa he pass by from us also, if he should see us unworthy of his visitation. Why are you proud, earth and ashes? Even from among the Angels the Lord bounds over, abhorring their pride. Therefore let the rejection of the angels become the correction of men: for it was written for their correction. Let even the evil of the devil work together for my good, and let me wash my hands in the blood of the sinner. How, you ask? Hear. Upon the proud devil certainly a dreadful and fearsome curse is hurled, the prophet David saying in the spirit concerning him under the figure of Gilboa, as was mentioned above: "The mountains," he says, "that are round about him, let the Lord visit, but from Gilboa let him pass by."

Indeed when I read this, and turn my eyes upon myself, and look diligently, I find myself infected with that very plague which the Lord abhorred so greatly in the angel that on account of it he turned away from him, while he deigned to honor all the mountains round about him, whether of Angels or of men, with the grace of his visitation; and trembling and quaking I say to myself: If it was thus dealt with the angel, what will become of me, earth and ashes? He swelled with pride in heaven, I upon a dunghill. Who would not consider pride more tolerable in the rich man than in the poor? Woe to me! if such harsh punishment was dealt upon that powerful one because his heart was lifted up, and it did not profit him that pride is recognized as native to the powerful; what must be exacted from me, both wretched and proud? And so I am already paying the penalty, already being beaten most bitterly. Not without cause indeed from yesterday and the day before has this languor of soul invaded me, and this dullness of mind, a certain unaccustomed sluggishness of spirit. I was running well: but behold, a stone of stumbling in the way; I struck against it and fell. Pride was found in me, and the Lord turned away in anger from his servant. Hence this barrenness of my soul, and the poverty of devotion which I suffer. How is it that my heart has so dried up, has curdled like milk, has become like earth without water? I cannot even be moved to tears, so great is the hardness of heart. The psalm has no taste, reading gives no pleasure, prayer brings no delight, I cannot find my accustomed meditations. Where is that intoxication of spirit? Where the serenity of mind, and peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit? Therefore I am sluggish for manual labor, drowsy at vigils, headlong into anger, obstinate in hatred, more indulgent of tongue and throat, duller and more obtuse for preaching. Alas! The Lord visits all the mountains round about me, but does not draw near to me. Am I not a hill from among those which the Bridegroom bounds over? For I behold one man of singular abstinence, another indeed of admirable patience, another of the greatest humility and meekness, another of great mercy and piety; that one frequently going beyond himself in contemplation, this one knocking at and penetrating the heavens by the urgency of his prayers, and others excelling in other virtues. These, I say, I observe all fervent, all devout, all of one mind in Christ, all abounding in heavenly gifts and grace, as truly spiritual mountains who are visited by the Lord, and frequently receive the Bridegroom leaping in them. But I, who find none of these things in me, what else should I think myself than one of the mountains of Gilboa, whom he passes by in his wrath and indignation, that most kindly visitor of all the rest?

Little children, this thought takes away the haughtiness of the eyes, wins grace, and prepares for the leaps of the Bridegroom. These things I have transferred to myself on account of you, that you also may do likewise. Be imitators of me. Which I do not say now of the exercise of virtues, or the discipline of conduct, or the glory of holiness (for indeed of such things I would not rashly claim for myself anything worthy of imitation); but I want you not to spare yourselves, but to accuse your very selves, whenever perhaps you perceive that the grace in you has grown even a little tepid, or that virtue has grown languid, just as I too accuse my own self for such things. To do this is the mark of a man who is a diligent observer of himself, and a searcher of his ways and pursuits, and who in all things always holds the vice of arrogance suspect lest it creep in. In truth I have learned that nothing is equally efficacious for meriting grace, retaining it, and recovering it, as if at all times you be found before God not to savor lofty things, but to fear. "Blessed is the man who is always fearful" (Prov 28:14). Fear therefore when grace has smiled upon you, fear when it has departed, fear when it returns again; and this is to be always fearful. Let these three fears succeed one another in turn in the soul, according as grace is felt either to deign to be present, or to withdraw offended, or to return again appeased. When it is present, fear lest you not work worthily from it: for this the Apostle warns: "See," he says, "that you do not receive the grace of God in vain" (2 Cor 6:1); and to his disciple: "Do not," he says, "neglect the grace that is in you" (1 Tim 4:14); and of himself he said: "Because the grace of God in me was not in vain" (1 Cor 15:10). The man knew, having the counsel of God, that to neglect a gift and not to spend it for that for which it was given redounds to the contempt of the giver; and he judged this to be intolerable pride: and therefore he himself most studiously guarded against this evil, and taught that it should be guarded against. But again a pitfall lurks here, which I do not want to be hidden from you, from which that same spirit of pride, the more dangerously the more secretly, as you have in the psalm, "lies in ambush like a lion in his den" (Ps 10:9). For if he is not able to hinder the action, he tempts the intention, suggesting and persuading that you should arrogate to yourself the effect of grace. Which kind of pride indeed you should not doubt is far more intolerable than that former kind. For what is more hateful than that voice in which certain ones said: "Our hand is exalted, and not the Lord, has done all these things" (Deut 32:27)?

If therefore one must fear while grace remains; what if it has departed? Must one not fear much more then? Certainly much more; because where grace fails you, you yourself fail. Hear indeed what the giver of grace says. "Without me," he says, "you can do nothing" (Jn 15:5). Fear therefore when grace is withdrawn, as one about to fall immediately; fear and tremble, with God angry at you, as you feel; fear, because your guard has left you. Nor should you doubt that pride is the cause, even if it does not appear, even if you are conscious of nothing in yourself. For what you do not know, God knows; and he who judges you is he himself. But neither is he who commends himself approved, but he whom God commends (2 Cor 10:18). Does God commend you when he deprives you of grace? Or does he who gives grace to the humble (Jas 4:6) take away from the humble what was given? Therefore the privation of grace is the proof of pride. Although, however, sometimes grace is withdrawn, or held back, not for pride that already exists, but for that which would exist if grace were not withdrawn. You have a clear testimony of this from the Apostle, who endured the goads of his flesh unwillingly, not because he was being exalted, but lest he be exalted (2 Cor 12:7). But whether already existing or not yet, pride will nevertheless always be the cause of grace withdrawn.

Now if grace, having been reconciled, should return, much more must one fear then, lest perhaps it happen that one suffers a relapse, according to that word from the Gospel: "Behold, you have been made well; go and sin no more, lest something worse befall you" (Jn 5:14). You hear that to relapse is worse than to fall in the first place. Therefore as the danger increases, let fear also increase. Blessed are you, if you have filled your heart with this threefold fear, so that you fear indeed for grace received, more for grace lost, far more for grace recovered. Do this, and you will be a water jar at the banquet of Christ, filled to the brim, containing indeed measures, not only two, but also three, that you may merit the blessing of Christ, which may convert your waters into the wine of gladness, and perfect charity may cast out fear (1 Jn 4:18).

What I say is of this nature. Fear is water, because it cools from the heat of carnal desires. "The beginning," he says, "of wisdom is the fear of the Lord" (Ps 110:10); and you have: "The water of saving wisdom gave him to drink" (Sir 15:3). If fear is wisdom, and wisdom is water; fear is water; and so: "The fear of the Lord," he says, "is a fountain of life" (Prov 14:7). Moreover the water jar is your mind. "Containing each," he says, "two or three measures." Three measures, three fears. "And they filled them," he says, "to the brim" (Jn 2:6-7). Not one fear, not two either, but all three together fill to the brim. At all times fear God, and from your whole heart, and you will have filled your water jar to the brim. God loves an undivided offering, a full affection, a perfect sacrifice. Take care therefore to bring a full water jar to the heavenly wedding feast, so that of you too it may be said: "Because he filled him with the spirit of the fear of the Lord" (Isa 11:3). He who fears thus neglects nothing. For how would negligence enter into fullness? Otherwise that which can still receive something more is not full. By the same reasoning one cannot simultaneously both fear thus and savor lofty things. For there is no room to admit pride when one is filled with the fear of the Lord. And so it is to be understood concerning the other vices as well, because all must necessarily be excluded by the fullness of fear. Then at length, if you have feared fully, if perfectly, charity will give flavor to your waters at the blessing of the Lord. For without charity, fear has punishment. And indeed charity is wine, which gladdens the heart of man (Ps 103:15). But perfect charity casts out fear, so that where water had been, wine may begin to be, to the praise and glory of the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is God blessed above all things forever. Amen.

"Behold, he comes leaping upon the mountains and jumping across the hills." … Some things imply that the bridegroom is already present, whereas other things suggest that the bridegroom is being sought by the bride. For we too investigate some problems for which we do not know the solution and some problems, when the bridegroom and Word enlightens our hearts, which we find already solved. Then, in other matters, we doubt again and it is revealed to us anew. This will happen often until we possess the bridegroom fully, when he not only comes to us but also remains within us.… "He comes leaping upon the mountains." He also comes trampling upon the nets cast by the evil demon, breaking them that we too might trample on them contemptuously.

The mountains are patriarchs, vast with holiness, robust in faith, founded upon a mass of charity, but the hills are prophets, established for seeing. He is said therefore to be raised higher than every mountain, or patriarch, and to leap over every hill, or prophet, because he is Lord over all, with all things being put under his feet.

The voice of the bridegroom was heard when God spoke through the prophets. After the voice the Word came leaping over the mountains that stood in his way, and by bounding over the hills, he made every rebellious power subject to himself, both the inferior powers and those that are greater. The distinction between mountains and hills signifies that both the superior adversary and the inferior one are trampled and destroyed by the same power and authority. The lion and the dragon, superior beasts, are trampled; so too are the serpent and the scorpion, which are inferior.

Hence in the voice of this same Church it is said through Solomon, "Behold, he comes leaping upon the mountains and bounding over the hills." For she considered the heights of such great works and said, "Behold, he comes leaping upon the mountains." For in coming for our redemption, He made certain leaps, so to speak. Do you wish, dearest brothers, to recognize His very leaps? From heaven He came into the womb, from the womb He came into the manger, from the manger He came to the cross, from the cross He came into the tomb, from the tomb He returned to heaven. Behold, so that He might make us run after Him, the Truth made manifest through the flesh made certain leaps for us, because "He rejoiced as a giant to run His course," so that we might say to Him from the heart, "Draw us after You; we will run in the fragrance of Your ointments."

Let us follow Christ in the mountains since our brother like a gazelle or a young stag came leaping over the hills, springing across the mountains. In truth, Christ after the resurrection did not ascend into heaven from the valley but from the mountain. Unless we are mountains of virtue, we cannot ascend into heaven.

But first understand that before he appeared to the eyes of the bride, the groom had been recognized by her by his voice alone, but afterwards he appeared to her sight, leaping on top of certain mountains near that place in which the bride tarried, and passing over the hills and mountains not so much in steps as much as in some big leaps like a stag or a roe and coming with all haste to his bride.But when he came to the house where his bride stayed, note that he stood behind the house for a little while so that he would indeed be perceived to be present but nonetheless not yet willing to enter the house openly and plainly, but first wished to look at the bride through the windows in the guise of love, as it were. But note that certain nets and traps had been placed near the bride's home so as to capture her or another of her companions from the daughters of Jerusalem, if by chance they should have ever left. The groom came to those nets, confident that he would not be captured by them, but having been made stronger than them, he tore those nets asunder, and once he had torn them, he walked on top of them and even looked through them; and after he had done this task, he said to the bride, "Arise, come, my neighbor, my bride, my dove." But he says this to show to her by that very act how she, with faith in him, ought to despise now the nets that her enemy had stretched out against her, and not to fear the snare, that she now sees have been torn asunder by her groom. Furthermore, in order that he may call the bride forth to hasten to him, he says to her that now all the time that seemed dire has passed away and the winter, which seemed to have arisen as her excuse, has departed and the useless rains have gone away and now the time of flowers has come.… Therefore, if we also wish to see the Word of God and the groom of the soul as he leaps over mountains and jumps over hills, let us first hear his voice and, when we have heard him in all matters, then we will be able to see him according to thoese things which the bride is said to have seen in this present passage. For although she herself also saw him earlier, she nonetheless did not see him as now, leaping over the mountains and jumping over the hills, nor even leaning through her windows or looking through the nets, but rather it seems that she had seen him earlier in the time of winter.… For if you were to consider how in a the space of a brief amount of time the Word of God has run throughout the world that had been seized by false superstitions and called the world back to knowledge of the true faith, you will understand how "he leaps over the mountains"—namely, he overpowered all the great kingdoms by his leaps and he inclined them to accept knowledge of divine religion—and how "he jumps over the hills"—since he quickly subdues lesser kingdoms and leads them to the piety of true worship.

As if she were saying: I recognize this to be the voice of my beloved spouse; I desire always to hear this from his mouth, because in this I see how much he loves me, since he forbids anything to hinder me from his desirable embraces. How she arrived at these embraces she suddenly narrates, saying: Behold, he comes leaping upon the mountains, bounding over the hills. Christ, arranging to come to the embraces of his bride, graciously assumed our humanity. To accomplish this mystery, he came as if leaping upon the mountains, because he displayed certain works among men which the human race, perceiving them to be exceedingly sublime and beyond human capacity, could admire but could not attain. For he was born of a virgin; an angel urged the shepherds to go and adore the crying infant; a star led the magi; hanging on the cross, he gave up his spirit at the hour he willed; dead, he raised himself on the third day; entering heaven, he bestowed the Holy Spirit on those whom he pleased; through fishermen and unlettered men he subjected the world to his faith — doing these things, he walked as it were upon the mountains, where no creature was able to follow him. In these works, indeed, he bounded over the hills, because he transcended all the saints, however much they may have grown, by the power of his working.

Be more like him who leaps over mountains and transcends hills, looking through windows, standing above nets. The chains of pleasure are evil. It delights the eyes, soothes the ears, but corrupts the mind: it tells many lies, adds falsehood, subtracts truth, promises money, offers gold; but takes away discipline.

But because we must always be anxious, always attentive; and because the Word of God leaps forth like a young goat, or like a fawn, the soul must always be vigilant and strive for what it seeks and desires to hold.

Therefore, he comes, and first after the wall is removed, which seemed to be an obstacle to harmony, in order to dissolve the enmities between soul and body. Then he looks through the windows. About what the windows are, hear the prophet saying: The windows are opened from heaven. Certainly, the prophet signifies those through whom the Lord looked upon the human race before he himself descended to the earth. And today, if any soul earnestly seeks him, it will receive much mercy; for the one who seeks much is owed the most. Therefore, if any soul seeks him diligently, it hears his voice from far away: and even though it may seek from others, it hears his voice before those from whom it seeks. It sees him coming towards it, that is, hastening and running, and surpassing those who are unable to grasp his power with a weak heart; finally, it sees him looking through the riddles of the prophets, reading them and understanding their words. It sees him looking, but as through a window, not yet as present.

My beloved is like a roe or a young deer. And indeed, all who know well how to explore the natures of these animals discover many things in them that most fittingly apply to the beloved of the Church, that is, the Lord and Savior. But in this place, it is especially to be noted that they delight in dwelling in the heights of the mountains and in giving very swift leaps, because of which they are seen by us more rarely than oxen or donkeys or other such animals, which, being domesticated together, we use as often as we please. This is very suitably adapted to the height of supreme contemplation, which is not within the discretion of human speculations but in the grace of God, appearing when it wills. I believe Isaiah, who is indeed an exalted mountain, saw Him seated upon a high and elevated throne not when he chose, but when the Lord willed; he saw and the heavenly hosts singing due praises to Him. Paul, also a mountain, much despising earthly things and touching the stars with his summit, was caught up into paradise and into the third heaven, not when he disposed, but when it pleased God, and heard the secret words which it is not lawful for a man to speak. It certainly agrees with the humility and truth of the assumed humanity that the Lord is compared not to a stag but to a roe or a young deer—smaller animals, who among men appeared not only as a man but as a humble man. He became a young deer because He took true flesh from the fleshly material of His ancestors; for He was made of the seed of David according to the flesh (Rom. I). And David himself says, As the deer longs for the water brooks, so my soul longs for you, God (Psalm 42). And again: He has made my feet like hinds' feet (Psalm 18). But concerning the other deer, His companions in life, he says, The voice of the Lord makes the deer give birth (Psalm 29); for He indeed prepares the deer when He bestows the gifts of virtues on the faithful; because that they may direct the course of their minds to higher things, ceaselessly thirst for the fountain of life, drive out and trample upon the serpents of heretical speech with their spiritual scent, ruminate on the word of life, and maintain the measure of salvific discretion in the straight steps of their actions is not in their power but in the divine granting. Therefore the voice of the Lord prepares the deer because His grace places the saints in the height of virtues. From such deer was born the fawn rightfully beloved of the bride, that is, of the Church or of every faithful soul, because Christ according to the flesh is from the fathers, who is over all, God blessed forever. And since the sublimity of the contemplative life is expressed in these verses, it remains, therefore, for the perfection of the active life, which is common to the whole Church, to be demonstrated. It follows:

Behold, he stands behind our wall, etc. For now the beloved remains in the vicinity of the bride, now leaping upon the hills on high, because the same Lord and Savior of ours, presents Himself to the more perfect at times, when He wills, even if through a glass and in enigma, and He always shows the invisible grace of His presence to all the elect. Concerning the manifestation of His presence, it is now rightly said, Behold, he stands behind our wall, for He indeed remains with us, nay He remains in us, so that He cannot be seen by us, as John attests, who says: No one has ever seen God (1 John 4). If we love one another, God abides in us, and His love is perfected in us (ibid.). But the wall which excludes us from His sight is the very condition of our mortality, which we have earned by sinning, we who were so conditioned in the first parent that if we had never consented to sin, all the elect would endlessly and without any labor see the light of divine contemplation, that now very few of the more perfect, with the greatest labor, reach by purifying their hearts through faith. But in this wall, divine mercy made windows and lattice-work from where He would look upon us, for He opened to our minds, however burdened by the blindness of this age, the grace of His knowledge, and frequently refreshes us with the light of His hidden inspiration. By this sight of His inspiration, because our gracious Creator chiefly acts to draw us from the love of temporal things to attain the joys of heavenly peace, it is aptly added:

"My beloved is like a gazelle and a young stag" (Song 2:9). This depends on the preceding verse. For him whom she had just described as leaping and hastening, she consequently compares to a gazelle and a young stag. Aptly indeed, because this kind of animal is swift in running and agile in leaping. Moreover the discourse is about the Bridegroom, and the Word is the Bridegroom. And the Prophet says of God that "his word runs swiftly" (Ps 147:15); surely fitting to this place, where the Bridegroom, who is the Word of God, is described as leaping and springing over, made like therefore to a gazelle and a young stag. And this is the reason for the likeness. Add, however, lest any portion of the likeness itself, however small, remain without a soul, that the gazelle indeed excels not only in swiftness of running, but also in sharpness of sight. Which indeed properly regards that part of the narrative in which the Bridegroom is reported to appear not only leaping, but also springing over; because unless with a keen and penetrating gaze he could not at all, especially while running, discern upon whom he should leap and whom he should spring over. Otherwise the comparison with the young stag alone could have sufficed to designate the swiftness of one hastening; for it is known to carry itself with a more rapid course. But now, because this Bridegroom, even if as one ardently loving he seems to rush headlong into the embraces of his beloved, nevertheless knows how to direct his steps, or rather his leaps, with prudent consideration, cautious as to where he ought to set his foot: it was assuredly necessary that the likeness be given not only of the young stag but also of the gazelle, so that through the former the desire of the one saving, and through the latter the judgment of the one choosing, might be expressed. For Christ is just and merciful, savior and judge: and because he loves, he wills all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth (1 Tim 2:4); and because he judges, he knows who are his (2 Tim 2:19), and he himself knows whom he has chosen from the beginning (Jn 13:18).

Therefore let us in the meantime perceive these two goods of the Bridegroom, namely mercy and judgment, as commended to us by the Holy Spirit in these two animals, so that in testimony of the integrity and perfection of our faith, we too, imitating the Prophet, may sing to the Lord of mercy and judgment (Ps 100:1). But I do not doubt that other things too can be shown from the nature of these animals by those who are curious about and knowledgeable of such matters, which could be usefully and fittingly applied to the Bridegroom: but these, as I think, can suffice to give the reason for the likeness introduced. Beautifully, however, the Holy Spirit gave the likeness not of a stag, but of a young stag, in which he both made mention of the Fathers, from whom Christ according to the flesh, and recalled the infancy of the Savior. For as a young stag there appeared "the little one who was born for us" (Is 9:6). But you who desire the coming of the Savior, fear the scrutiny of the Judge, fear the eyes of the gazelle, fear him who says through the prophet: "And it shall be in that day, I will search Jerusalem with lamps" (Zeph 1:12). He is of keen sight; his eye will leave nothing unsearched. "He will search the hearts and minds" (Ps 7:10), and the very thought of man will confess to him (Ps 75:11). What is safe in Babylon, if scrutiny awaits Jerusalem? For I think the prophet in this place designated by the name Jerusalem those who in this age lead a religious life, imitating the manners of that heavenly Jerusalem by an honest and ordered way of life, as far as their powers allow; and not like those who are of Babylon, ruining their life in the disturbance of vices and the confusion of crimes. Indeed the sins of those are manifest, going before them to judgment, and they need not scrutiny, but punishment. But my sins, who seem to be a monk and a Jerusalemite, are certainly hidden, shadowed by the name and habit of a monk: and therefore it will be necessary for them to be investigated by a subtle examination, and as if by lamps brought near, to be brought out of darkness into light.

We can bring forward something also from the psalm to confirm what is said about searching Jerusalem. For he says in the person of the Lord: "When I shall have received the time, I will judge justices" (Ps 74:3). The ways of the just, unless I am mistaken, and their acts he says he will examine and investigate. It is greatly to be feared, when it shall have come to this, lest under so subtle an examination many of our justices, as they are thought to be, may appear as sins. There is one thing, however: if we judge ourselves, we shall certainly not be judged (1 Cor 11:31). Good is the judgment that withdraws and hides me from that strict and divine judgment. Utterly do I dread to fall into the hands of the living God; I desire to be presented to the face of wrath as one already judged, not as one still to be judged. The spiritual man judges all things, and he himself is judged by no one (1 Cor 2:15). I will therefore judge my evil deeds, and I will judge also my good ones. The evil ones I will take care to correct by better acts, to wash away with tears, to punish with fasts and the other labors of holy discipline. In my good deeds I will think humbly of myself, and, according to the precept of the Lord, I will reckon myself an unprofitable servant, who has only done what I was obliged to do (Lk 17:10). I will take care neither to offer tares for grain, nor chaff with grain. I will search out my ways and my pursuits, so that he who is about to search Jerusalem with lamps may find nothing unsearched or unexamined in me. For he will not judge twice in the selfsame matter.

Who will grant me to pursue and track down all my offenses so thoroughly, that I need fear the eyes of the gazelle in nothing, that I need blush at the light of the lamps in nothing? And now I am seen, but I do not see: present is the eye to which all things lie open, even if that eye itself does not lie open. There will be a time when I shall know, even as I also am known: but now indeed I know in part, yet not in part am I known, but wholly. I fear the gaze of that searcher who stands behind the wall. For Scripture adds this about him whom it has likened to a gazelle on account of his sharpness of sight: "Behold, he himself stands," it says, "behind the wall, looking through the windows, peering through the lattices." Of which we shall see in its own place. This one therefore I fear, the hidden searcher of hidden things. The bride fears nothing, because she is conscious of nothing against herself. What indeed should she fear, friend, dove, beautiful one? For straightway you have: "Behold, my beloved," she says, "speaks to me." He leaves nothing unsaid; and therefore I dread his gaze, because I do not have testimony. What do you hear about yourself, O bride? What does your beloved say to you? "Arise, hasten, my friend, my dove, my beautiful one" (Song 2:9-10). But this too I will reserve for another beginning, and I will not compress into brevity those things that require diligence; lest perhaps I be found guilty even of this, if somehow you are found less built up in this regard unto the understanding and love of the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is over all things God blessed forever. Amen.

"Behold, he himself stands behind the wall, looking through the windows, gazing through the lattices" (Song 2:9). According to the letter indeed he seems to say that he who was seen approaching with leaps had drawn near even to the dwelling of the bride, and standing behind the wall was peering in more curiously through the windows and cracks, and bashfully did not presume to thrust himself in. According to the spirit, however, he is understood to have drawn near no less, but in another way, in such a manner assuredly as it was fitting both for the heavenly Bridegroom to act and for the Holy Spirit to speak. For the true and spiritual understanding will admit nothing that would be unbecoming either to the author or to the narrator. Therefore he drew near to the wall when he adhered to flesh. The flesh is the wall, and the drawing near of the Bridegroom is the incarnation of the Word. Furthermore, the lattices and windows through which he is said to look are, as I suppose, the senses of the flesh and human affections, through which he took up experience of all human necessities. For "he himself bore our weaknesses, and he himself carried our sorrows" (Is 53:4). Therefore he used human affections and bodily senses as openings and windows, so that, having been made man, he might know the miseries of men by experience, and might become merciful. He knew even before, but in another way. For the Lord of hosts himself knew the virtue of obeying, and yet, as the Apostle attests, "he learned obedience from the things which he suffered" (Heb 5:8). In this manner he also learned mercy, even though the mercy of the Lord is from eternity. The same teacher of the nations teaches this also, where he asserts that he was "tempted in all things according to likeness, without sin, that he might become merciful" (Heb 4:15). Do you see that he was made what he was, and learned what he knew, and sought for himself among us cracks and windows, through which he might explore our calamities more diligently? And he found as many openings in our ruinous wall full of cracks as he felt experiences of our weakness and corruption in his own body.

Thus therefore the Bridegroom was standing behind the wall and looking through windows and lattices. And rightly standing, because he alone truly stood in the flesh who did not experience the sin of the flesh. We can also faithfully hold this, that he stood by the power of divinity who fell by the weakness of the flesh, as he himself said: "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak" (Mt 26:41). But I think that also that other passage lends support to this meaning, which holy David, as a prophet of the Lord and prophesying, spoke of the Lord in this mystery; and indeed speaking of Moses, but looking to the Lord. For he himself is the true Moses, who truly came through water, and not in water only, but in water and blood. And so the aforementioned prophet said: "He said that he would destroy them" (for he was speaking of the Father), "if Moses his chosen one had not stood in the breach in his sight, to turn away his wrath, lest he destroy them" (Ps 105:23). In what way, I ask, did Moses stand in the breach? How, I say, did he either stand, if he was broken; or if he stood, how was he broken? But I will show you, if you wish, who truly stood in the breach. I know no other who could do this, except my Lord Jesus, who certainly was living in death, who, broken in body on the cross, was standing by divinity with the Father; in the one supplicating with us, in the other propitiating with the Father. And he was standing behind the wall, since what lay prostrate in him was manifest in the flesh, and that by which he stood was hidden in him as if behind the flesh; one and the same indeed, man manifest and God hidden.

But also for each one of us who desire his coming, I think he stands no less behind the wall, while this body of ours, which is certainly of sin, hides from us in the meantime his face and shuts off his presence. For: "As long as we are in this body," he says, "we are pilgrims from the Lord" (2 Cor 5:6). Not because we are in a body, but because we are in this body, which assuredly is of sin and is not without sin. And that you may know that it is not bodies but sins that obstruct, hear the Scripture: "Our sins," it says, "separate between us and God" (Is 59:2). And would that only one wall of the body stood in my way, and I suffered only the obstacle of that which is the sin in the flesh, and that not many partition walls of vices stood between! For I fear that beyond that which is in nature, I have added very many from my own iniquity, by the interposition of which I have set the Bridegroom exceedingly far from me; so that, if I wished to speak the truth, I should confess that he stands behind walls rather than behind a wall for me.

But I say this more plainly. The Bridegroom indeed is equally and indifferently present everywhere, by the presence assuredly of the divine majesty, and by the greatness of his power. Yet by the exhibition or withholding of grace he is said to be far from some and near to others, that is, of angels and men, that is, of rational creatures. For "salvation is far from sinners" (Ps 118:155). And holy David likewise says: "Why, O Lord, have you withdrawn far off?" (Ps 9:1). But from the saints, by a pious dispensation, he makes himself far for a time and not entirely, but according to something, sometimes. But from sinners of whom it is said: "The pride of those who hate you ascends always" (Ps 73:23); and likewise: "Their ways are defiled at all times" (Ps 9:5); he is always and very far away, and this in wrath and not in mercy. Wherefore the saint prays to God and says: "Do not turn away in anger from your servant" (Ps 26:9); knowing that he could also turn away in mercy. The Lord is therefore near to his saints and his elect, even when he seems to be far away; and not equally to all, but to some more, to others less, according to the diversity of merits. For even if the Lord is near to all who call upon him in truth, and is close to those who are of a troubled heart; yet not to all perhaps, so that they may be able to say that he himself stands behind the wall. But how near he is to the bride, who is separated by only one wall! For this reason she desires to be dissolved, and with the middle wall broken through, to be with him whom she trusts to be behind the wall.

But I, since I am a sinner, do not desire to be dissolved but dread it, knowing that "the death of sinners is most wretched" (Ps 33:22). How is death not most wretched where Life does not come to aid? I dread going out, and I tremble at the very entrance of the harbor, since I do not trust that he who would receive me as I go out stands near. For what? Do I go out securely, if the Lord does not guard my going out? Alas! I shall be a mockery of demons intercepting me: with none standing by to redeem, nor to save. Nothing such was to be feared by the soul of Paul, for whom only one wall stood in the way from the sight and embrace of the Beloved, namely the law of sin, which he found in his members. This is the concupiscence of the flesh, which he could not entirely lack as long as he was in the flesh. With this one wall surely interposed, he was not wandering far from the Lord; whence also he wished, crying out: "Who will deliver me from the body of this death?" (Rom 7:24). Knowing that by the shortcut of death he would immediately arrive at life. By this one law therefore Paul confessed himself to be held, namely concupiscence, which, immovably implanted in his flesh, he endured unwillingly; for the rest: "I am conscious," he says, "of nothing against myself" (1 Cor 4:4).

But who is like Paul, who does not, namely, sometimes consent to this concupiscence so as to obey sin? Let him know therefore, he who has consented to sin, that he has set up another wall against himself, namely that very depraved and illicit consent: nor can he who is of this kind boast that the Bridegroom stands behind a wall for him, when already walls stand between, not a wall. Much less if the consent has proceeded to effect, since now a third wall also bars and impedes the access of the Bridegroom, namely the very act of sin. What if habit has perhaps led the sin into use, or use even into contempt? As it is written: "The impious one, when he has come into the depth of evils, shows contempt" (Prov 18:3). Will you not, if you go out in such a state, be devoured a thousand times by those roaring ones prepared for food, before you can reach the Bridegroom, who is now shut off from you not by one wall but by so great a number of walls? The first is concupiscence; the second, consent; the third, the act; the fourth, habit; the fifth, contempt. Take care therefore to resist the first concupiscence with all your strength, lest it drag you into consent; and every structure of malice thereafter vanishes: nor is there anything at all to prevent the Bridegroom from drawing near to you, except only the wall of the body, so that you may be able to boast, you too, saying of him: "Behold, he himself stands behind the wall."

But this too you must provide for with all vigilance, that he may always find open the windows and certain lattices of your confessions, through which he may kindly look upon you within, since his looking upon you is your progress. They say that lattices are narrower than windows, such as those assuredly who copy books are accustomed to fit for themselves to receive light upon the pages. Whence also I think those are called chancellors who are deputed by office to the writing of documents. Since therefore there are two kinds of compunction, one in sorrow for our transgressions, the other in exultation for divine gifts, as often surely as I make that confession of my sins which is by no means done without anguish of heart, I seem to myself to open a lattice, that is, a narrower window. Nor is there doubt that he who stands behind the wall, the pious searcher, willingly looks through this one, because "a contrite and humbled heart God will not despise" (Ps 50:19). For he also exhorts to this very thing: "Declare you," he says, "your iniquities first, that you may be justified" (Is 43:26). But if at times, with heart enlarged in charity, on account of the consideration of the divine condescension and compassion, it pleases to release the mind into a voice of praise and thanksgiving, I think I am opening no longer a narrow but a most ample window for the Bridegroom standing behind the wall, through which, unless I am mistaken, he looks all the more willingly, inasmuch as "the sacrifice of praise honors him" the more. It is ready at hand from the Scriptures to approve both of these confessions; but I speak these things to those who know, and you are not to be burdened with superfluous things, who scarcely suffice for investigating the necessary ones. For so great are the mysteries of this wedding song, and the proclamations of praise that are sung in it to the Church and to her Bridegroom Jesus Christ our Lord, who is over all things God blessed forever. Amen.

Hence the holy Church says to Him in the Song of Songs, whom she seeks under the likeness of a young deer: "Show me, O you whom my soul loves, where you feed, where you rest at midday." For the Lord is called a young deer, according to His assumed flesh the son of the ancient fathers. Indeed, a more fervent heat burns at midday, and the young deer seeks a shady place where the fire of heat does not affect it. Therefore, the Lord rests in those hearts which the love of the present age does not inflame, which the desires of the flesh do not burn up, which, set ablaze by their anxieties, do not wither in the lusts of this world.

He is rightly said to be like a roe, because he drew his flesh from the Synagogue, which is signified by the roe. And because he was begotten from the stock of the ancient saints, he is rightly declared to be as it were a young hart of the stags.

Christ incarnate stood, as it were, behind our wall, because in the humanity he assumed, his divinity lay hidden. And because if he were to reveal his immensity, human weakness could not endure it, he set before himself the barrier of flesh, and whatever great things he accomplished among men, he did as one hiding behind a wall. Now he who looks through windows and lattices is partly seen, but partly conceals himself. So also the Lord Jesus Christ, while he both performed miracles through the power of his divinity and endured lowly things through the weakness of his flesh, looked forth as it were through the window and lattices, because while hiding in one nature, in the other he revealed who he was. Therefore, incarnate, he speaks to his Church, or to each perfect soul, and exhorts her toward the eternal homeland.

He is a fine deer, whose mountain is the house of God, to which he runs with such speed that he surpasses the wishes and desires of his bride. Indeed, when he saw him coming from afar, he suddenly recognized that he was present beside him. Hence he says: Behold, he is here behind our wall, looking through the windows, peering through the lattice. My cousin answered and said to me: Arise, come, my nearest one, my beautiful one, my dove; for behold, winter has passed, the rain has gone, it has departed for itself, flowers have appeared on the earth. Winter is the Synagogue: the rain is the Jewish people, who could not see the sun: the apostles are the flowers. And he added: The harvest of the incision has come, the voice of the turtledove was heard in our land. That harvest is the faith of the Church: the voice of the turtledove is chastity.

"Arise, come to me, my love," that is, rise from worldly pleasures, rise from earthly things, and come to me, who are still laboring and burdened, because you are anxious for the things of the world. Come above the world, come to me, for I have conquered the world. Come near to me now, beautiful with the beauty of eternal life, now a dove, that is, gentle and meek, now completely full of spiritual grace. Now winter has passed, that is, Easter has come, indulgence has come, remission of sins has come, temptation has ceased, the rain has gone, the storm has gone, and the shaking. Before the coming of Christ, there is winter, after His coming there are flowers. Hence it says: Flowers are seen on the earth. Where there were thorns before, there are now flowers. It is said that the time for cutting has come. Where there was a desert before, there is now a harvest. The voice of the turtle-dove has been heard in our land.

Behold, my beloved speaks to me, "Arise," etc. All things have their season, and all things pass in their own time under heaven (Eccles. III). Therefore, the bride of Christ, namely the Church, or any chosen soul, has a time for resting; likewise, it has a time for rising to work. Finally, as above, he adjures the daughters of Jerusalem not to awaken or arouse her until she pleases, and now, with a changed tone, he himself bids her to rise and come quickly to him; no longer does he consent to her entering the flowery bed with celestial studies, but rather he instructs her to go out with him to cultivate the vineyards and drive away harmful beasts from them, as the subsequent song teaches; adding to provoke and inflame her zeal that, with the winter seasons passed, the mild spring now aids the industry of the laborer, and even the arrival and songs of spring birds make the rural places more joyful than the courtly ones, and the bloom of flowers promises future fruit to the farmers. But since we have barely touched the surface of the letters, let us now turn our pen to exploring the depths of the allegorical senses. It was said above, under the figure of a roe or a fawn of the hinds, how the Lord reveals the secrets of heavenly contemplation through internal visions. It was said under the figure of him standing behind our wall and looking through windows and lattice, how he often illuminates the whole Church, though still invisible, with the frequent regard of salutary compunction. It remains now to intimate how he incites the same Church, either to the office of preaching or to the exercise of good works. "Arise," he says, "hurry, my friend, my dove, my beautiful one, and come. Arise from that bed much beloved by you, in which you delight in caring for yourself through psalms and prayers and other studies of life. Hurry, and come to also devote care to the salvation of others, through the zeal of diligent preaching: for indeed we hurry to the Lord who calls us, by performing works of virtue for His cause."

"Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away," etc. If, according to the Apostle's exposition, the Rock was Christ (1 Corinthians 10), what are the clefts of the rock except the wounds which Christ received for our salvation? In these very clefts the dove resides and nests, whether each meek soul or the entire Church, places its sole hope of salvation in the Lord's passion, relying on the sacrament of his death to protect themselves, as if from the snatching of a hawk by an ancient enemy, and strives to bring forth spiritual offspring—either children or virtues—in the same. Hence well Jeremiah, under the guise of Moab, urging heretics to the unity of ecclesiastical faith, says, "Leave the cities and dwell in the rock, inhabitants of Moab. Be like a dove nesting in the highest mouth of the cleft" (Jeremiah 48). Moreover, the wall which is usually constructed of stones to fortify vineyards (whence it is said in the song of Isaiah, "My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill, and he built a wall around it" [Isaiah 5]) signifies the guardianship of heavenly virtues by which the Lord surrounds the Church, his vineyard, lest it be ravaged by the incursions of unclean spirits like those of wicked creatures. Hence, therefore, the Psalmist says, "The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear Him, and delivers them" (Psalm 34). And the Apostle, speaking of angels, says, "Are they not all ministering spirits sent forth to serve for the sake of those who are to inherit salvation?" (Hebrews 1). Thus, in this secure wall, the bride and friend of Christ, like a dove, finds a hole for herself, while the Holy Church has learned to defend itself from the deceptions of the devil through angelic help. Therefore, the Lord exhorts the same Church, He exhorts every soul devoted to Him, to the exercise of holy and fruitful labor; and He says, "Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away. For behold, the winter is past," and so on, until He says, "Arise, my love, my bride, and come away; my dove in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the cliff." As if He openly says, "After the tempest of the Gentile life has been removed by divine mercy, after the flowers of saving conversation have already emerged on earth, after the vines have begun to be pruned by the celestial husbandmen with the sickle of discernment so that the wicked are separated from the just and the vices from the virtues, after the herald of salvation has already widely resounded in the world, after the world itself has been converted to the acknowledgment of the truth, and the most delightful fame of new life has spread among the Gentiles, I beseech you, O greatly beloved company of faithful souls, to whom I have bestowed the gifts of my friendship, whom I have deigned to unite to myself as a bride, to whom I have given the simplicity of the dove-like mind by the infusion of my Spirit, for whose health and life I have taken upon myself wounds and death, to whom I have granted the help of heavenly protection against invisible enemies; I beseech you, I say, who have been made the recipient of such gifts, not to become sluggish in idle ease, but to rather hasten to gird yourself with zealous effort and diligence in the esteemed struggle for eternal rest."

"Behold, my beloved speaks to me" (Song 2:10). See the advances of grace, and mark the degrees of divine condescension. Attend to the devotion and skill of the bride, with what vigilant eye she observes the advent of the bridegroom, and thereafter gazes upon all his movements more diligently. He comes, he hastens, he draws near, he is present, he looks upon her, he speaks to her; and none of these moments escapes the industry of the bride, anticipating each with her awareness. He comes in the angels, he hastens in the patriarchs, he draws near in the prophets, he is present in the flesh, he looks upon her in miracles, he speaks in the apostles. Or thus: He comes with the affection and zeal of showing mercy, he hastens with the eagerness of bringing aid, he draws near by humbling himself, he is present to those of the present time, he looks ahead to those of the future, he speaks teaching and persuading concerning the kingdom of God. Thus therefore is the advent of the bridegroom. Blessings and riches of salvation are with him, and all things that pertain to him overflow with delights, abounding surely in joyful and salutary sacraments. Moreover she who loves, watches and observes. And blessed is she whom the Lord shall find watching. He will not pass her by, nor will he go past her, but he will stand and speak to her, and he will speak words of love: he will speak indeed as a beloved. For thus you have it: "Behold, my beloved speaks to me." Rightly "beloved," who comes to speak words of love, and not of reproach.

For she is not of those who are justly reproached by the Lord, that they knew how to discern the face of the sky, but did not at all recognize the time of his coming (Mt 16:3). For this bride, so skillful, and prudent, and well-watchful, both saw him coming from afar, and noticed him leaping on account of his haste, and most vigilantly observed him leaping over the proud, that he might draw near to his humble one through humility; and at last, when he was already standing and hiding himself behind the wall, she nonetheless recognized his presence, and also perceived him looking through the windows and lattices; and now, as a reward for such great devotion and religious solicitude, she hears him speaking. For indeed if he had looked upon her and had not at all spoken, that look could have been suspect, lest perhaps it were of indignation rather than of love. For he looked upon Peter, and did not make a word to him: and therefore Peter perhaps wept (Lk 22:61-62), because he who was looking upon him was silent. But this bride, since after his gaze she also merited his address, not only does not weep, but even glories with joy, crying out: "Behold, my beloved speaks to me." You see that the gaze of the Lord, although it always remains the same in itself, is nevertheless not always of the same efficacy; but it conforms itself to the merits of each one whom he regards, and to some indeed it strikes fear, but to others it rather brings consolation and security. For he looks upon the earth and makes it tremble, whereas on the other hand he looked upon Mary and poured grace into her. "He has regarded," she says, "the humility of his handmaid; for behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed" (Lk 1:48). These are not the words of one weeping or trembling, but of one rejoicing. He looked upon the bride similarly in this place, and she neither trembled nor wept after the manner of Peter, because she did not savor of the earth, as he did; but he gave joy in her heart, testifying by his address with what affection he had regarded her.

Hear then the words which he speaks, how they are not of one who is indignant, but of one who loves. There follows: "Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my beautiful one." Happy the conscience that merits to hear these things of itself! Who, do you think, among us is so watchful and observant of the time of his visitation, and so diligently scrutinizing the bridegroom as he approaches through each of his movements, that when he has come and knocked, he may immediately open to him? For these things are not so related of the Church that we individually, who together are the Church, should not have to participate in these her blessings. For in this we are all generally and without distinction called, that we may possess blessings as an inheritance. Whence also one dared to say to the Lord indeed: "I have acquired your testimonies as an inheritance forever, because they are the exultation of my heart" (Ps 119:111); by that inheritance, I think, by which he presumed himself to be a son of his father, who is in heaven. Moreover if a son, then also an heir; an heir of God, and a co-heir with Christ. He glories that he has acquired a great thing by this inheritance, namely the testimonies of the Lord. Would that I had merited to hold even one testimony of the Lord concerning myself! because he exults not in one, but in many testimonies. For he says again: "In the way of your testimonies I have delighted, as in all riches" (Ps 119:14). And truly what are the riches of salvation, what are the delights of the heart, what is the true and prudent security of the soul, if not the attestations of the Lord? "For it is not he who commends himself," he says, "who is approved, but he whom God commends" (2 Cor 10:18).

Why are we hitherto still defrauded of these divine commendations and attestations, and deprived of our paternal inheritance? As if he had not willingly begotten us also by the word of truth, so we remember ourselves commended by him in no such way, nor to have obtained any testimonies of his concerning ourselves. Where is what the Apostle says, that "the Spirit of God himself gives testimony to our spirit, that we are sons of God" (Rom 8:16)? How are we sons, if we are without share in the inheritance? Our very poverty itself convicts us surely of negligence and carelessness. For if any one of us, wholly and perfectly, according to the word of the Wise man, would give his heart to watching at dawn for the Lord who made him, and would pray in the sight of the Most High (Sir 39:6), and at the same time with all his desires would strive, according to Isaiah the prophet, to prepare the ways of the Lord, to make straight the paths of his God (Isa 40:3), so that it would be his to say with the Prophet: "My eyes are always toward the Lord" (Ps 25:15); and "I foresaw the Lord in my sight always" (Ps 16:8): would not this man receive a blessing from the Lord, and mercy from the God of his salvation? (Ps 24:5). He would be visited frequently indeed, nor would he ever be ignorant of the time of his visitation, however secretly and furtively he who visits in spirit may come, as being a bashful lover. Therefore while he is still far off, the well-watchful soul will discern him with a sober mind, and thereafter will discover all those things which we have shown the bride to have noticed so skillfully and so distinctly in the advent of the beloved, because he himself says: "Those who watch for me in the morning shall find me" (Prov 8:17). For she will also recognize the desire of the one hastening; and when he is near, and when he is already at hand, she will immediately perceive; and also the eye of the one looking upon her, entering like a ray of the sun through windows and cracks of the wall, she will behold with a blessed eye: and at last she will hear voices of exultation and love, being called love, dove, beautiful one.

Who is wise and will understand these things, so as to be able also worthily to distinguish them from one another, and to designate each one, and to define them for the understanding of others? If that is expected of me, I would prefer to hear these things from one experienced, and one who is accustomed and exercised in such matters. But since everyone who is of this kind modestly chooses rather to conceal in silence what he perceives in silence, and to keep his secret to himself, judging that safer for himself: I say, I whose office it is to speak, and to whom silence is not permitted, whatever it is that I hold of such matters either from my own or from another's experience, and what many can easily experience, leaving aside indeed the higher things for those who are able to grasp them. If therefore I shall have been admonished, either outwardly by a man or inwardly by the Spirit, concerning the guarding of justice and the keeping of equity; such a salutary persuasion will be for me indeed a herald of the imminent coming of the bridegroom, and a certain preparation for worthily receiving the heavenly visitor, the Prophet indicating this to me by saying that "justice shall walk before him" (Ps 85:13); and likewise he speaks to God thus: "Justice and judgment," he says, "are the preparation of your seat" (Ps 89:14). No less indeed will the same hope smile upon me, if a word has sounded concerning humility or patience, or even concerning fraternal charity and obedience to be rendered to superiors; but especially concerning the pursuit of holiness and peace, and the seeking of purity of heart, since indeed Scripture says: "Holiness befits the house of the Lord" (Ps 93:5); and: "His place has been made in peace" (Ps 76:2); and: "The pure in heart shall see God" (Mt 5:8). Whatever therefore, whether concerning these or any other virtues, shall have been suggested to the mind, it will be a sign, as I have said, that the visitation of the Lord of hosts is imminent for my soul.

But also if a just man shall correct me in mercy, and rebuke me, I shall feel the same thing, knowing that the zeal and benevolence of the just man make a way for him who ascends above the west (Ps 68:4). A good setting, when at the correction of the just man the man stands firm, and the vice falls, and the Lord ascends above it, trampling it underfoot and crushing it lest it rise again. Therefore the rebuke of the just man is not to be despised, for it is the ruin of sin, the health of the heart, and moreover the way of God to the soul. But neither is any word at all which builds up toward piety, toward virtues, toward the best conduct, to be heard negligently; since in that too is "the way by which the salvation of God is shown" (Ps 50:23). But if the word comes welcome and pleasing, so that, with disgust driven away, it is heard with desire, then the Bridegroom is to be believed not only to come, but also to hasten, that is, to come with desire. For his desire creates your desire; and the reason you hasten to admit his word is that he himself hastens to enter; for "it was not we who loved him, but he himself," it says, "first loved us" (1 Jn 4:10). Now if you also feel the word to be fiery, and your conscience to be burned by it in the remembrance of sin; remember then of whom the Scripture says that "a fire shall go before him" (Ps 97:3), and do not doubt that he himself is near. For "the Lord is near to those who are of a troubled heart" (Ps 34:18).

But if in that word you are not only pricked with compunction, but also turned wholly to the Lord, swearing and resolving to keep the judgments of his justice, know that he is also already present, especially if you feel yourself burning with love of him. For you read both of him, that a fire indeed precedes him, and that he himself is no less a fire. For Moses says of him that "he is a consuming fire" (Deut 4:24). But they differ, in that the fire which is sent before has burning heat, but not love: it singes, but does not refine; it stirs, but does not advance. It is sent ahead only to arouse and prepare, and at the same time to remind you of what you are of yourself, so that what you will shortly be of God may taste all the sweeter afterward. But the fire which is God indeed consumes, but does not afflict; it burns sweetly, it lays waste blessedly. For it is truly a desolating coal, but one which so exercises the power of fire upon vices, that in the soul it performs the office of anointing. Therefore in the power by which you are changed, and in the love by which you are inflamed, understand the Lord to be present. For "the right hand of the Lord works power" (Ps 118:16). Moreover this change "of the right hand of the Most High" (Ps 77:10) does not happen except in fervor of spirit, and in charity unfeigned, so that he who is of this kind may say: "My heart grew hot within me, and in my meditation a fire shall burn" (Ps 39:3).

Moreover, when by this fire every stain of sin, and the rust of vices, has been consumed, if upon a cleansed and serene conscience there follows a certain sudden and unwonted enlargement of the mind, and an infusion of light illuminating the understanding either for the knowledge of the Scriptures, or for the awareness of mysteries, of which I believe the one is given for our delight, the other for the edification of our neighbors; that is without doubt the eye of the one looking upon you, bringing forth "as the light your justice, and your judgment as the noonday," according to that word of the prophet Isaiah: "Your light shall arise," he says, "as the sun" (Isa 58:10), etc. But assuredly not through open doors, but through narrow openings, will this ray of such great brightness pour itself in, while this ruinous wall of the body still stands. You err if you hope otherwise, to whatever degree of purity of heart you may advance, since that preeminent contemplator says: "We see now through a mirror and in an enigma, but then face to face" (1 Cor 13:12).

After this regard of such great condescension and mercy, there follows a voice gently and softly insinuating the divine will, which is nothing other than love itself, which cannot be idle, urging and persuading concerning the things that are of God. For the bride hears that she should arise and hasten, without doubt for the winning of souls. For this is what true and chaste contemplation has, that the mind which it has vehemently kindled with divine fire, it sometimes so fills with zeal and desire for winning for God those who would similarly love him, that it most willingly interrupts the leisure of contemplation for the zeal of preaching; and again, having obtained its desires, it returns all the more ardently to the same, inasmuch as it remembers itself to have interrupted more fruitfully; and in turn, having tasted contemplation, it runs back with greater strength and accustomed eagerness to pursue its gains. But amid these alternations the mind often fluctuates, fearing, and vehemently burning with anxiety, lest perhaps it cling to one of these more than is just, while it is pulled in different directions by its affections on this side and that; and so in either one deviate even slightly from the divine will. And perhaps holy Job was suffering something of this kind, when he said: "If I sleep, I say, when shall I arise? and again I shall wait for the evening" (Job 7:4): that is: Both at rest, I accuse myself of neglected work; and occupied, I accuse myself no less of disturbed rest. You see the holy man gravely distressed between the fruit of work and the sleep of contemplation: and although always engaged in good things, yet always as if doing penance for evils, and seeking the will of God with groaning at every moment. For the sole remedy and refuge in such matters is prayer, and frequent groaning to God; that he may deign continually to show us what, when, and to what extent he wills us to do. You have, as I think, these three things, that is, preaching, prayer, and contemplation, commended and designated in three words. For rightly is she called "love," who zealously and faithfully seeks the gains of the bridegroom by preaching, counseling, and ministering. Rightly "dove," who no less, groaning and supplicating in prayer for her own faults, does not cease to reconcile divine mercy to herself. Rightly also "beautiful one," who, shining with heavenly desire, puts on the beauty of supernal contemplation, at those hours, at least, when she can do so conveniently and opportunely.

But see also whether this can be fitted to this threefold good of one soul; concerning those three persons, namely, dwelling together in one house, friends surely of the Savior, and exceedingly familiar to him. I speak of Martha serving, and Mary at leisure, and Lazarus as if groaning under the stone, and pleading for the grace of resurrection (Lk 10:38-42; Jn 11). These things have been said on account of the fact that the bride is described as so skillful and watchful in observing the paths of the bridegroom, that it can in no way be hidden from her when, and with how great haste, he comes to her; but also when he is far, and when near, and when present, she cannot be taken by surprise so as to be unaware: and that for this reason she merited, not only to be looked upon mercifully, but also to be graciously gladdened by voices of love, and to rejoice with joy on account of the voice of the bridegroom.

We also have added to these things, though boldly, that any soul among us also, if it watches similarly, will similarly be greeted as a love, consoled as a dove, and embraced as a beautiful one. Everyone will be considered perfect in whose soul these three things are seen to come together fittingly and opportunely, so that he both knows how to groan for himself, and to exult in God, and at the same time is capable of serving the needs of his neighbors; pleasing to God, watchful over himself, useful to his own. But for these things who is sufficient? Would that these things themselves in all of us, if not all in each individual, yet at least each one in different persons, as they seem to be held today, may be preserved for a long time! For we have Martha, as a friend of the Savior, in those who faithfully administer external affairs. We have also Lazarus, as a groaning dove, namely the novices, who, having recently died to sins, still labor in their groaning under recent wounds with fear of judgment; and as the wounded sleeping in the tombs, of whom no one is mindful any longer, so they do not think themselves regarded, until at Christ's command, with the weight of fear removed, as if the burden of a pressing stone, they can breathe again into the hope of pardon. We have also Mary contemplating, in those who, by the progress of a longer time, with the grace of God cooperating, have been able to advance to something better and more joyful; when now, presuming upon forgiveness, they are not so anxious to turn over within themselves the sad image of their sins, as they are insatiably delighted to meditate in the law of God day and night; sometimes also with unveiled face beholding the glory of the bridegroom with ineffable joy, they are transformed into the same image from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the Lord (2 Cor 3:18). Now to what end the bridegroom urges the bride to arise and hasten, he who a little before seemed to have defended her lest she be awakened while sleeping, we shall see in another sermon. May he himself be present, that he may deign to open for us the meaning of this mystery also, the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is over all things God blessed forever. Amen.

"Arise, make haste, my friend, my dove, my beautiful one, and come" (Song 2:10). Who says this? Without doubt the Bridegroom. And is he not the one who a little before was so earnestly forbidding the beloved to be awakened? By what agreement then does he now command not only that she arise, but also that she hasten? Something similar from the Gospel comes to mind. For on that very night in which the Lord was betrayed, when he had at last commanded the disciples who were with him, fatigued by the prolonged vigils, to sleep and to rest, in that very hour he said: "Arise, let us go; behold, he who will betray me has drawn near" (Mt 26:46). Now likewise in almost one and the same moment he both forbids the bride to be awakened and awakens her, saying: "Arise and come." What then does so sudden a change of will or counsel mean? Do we suppose that the Bridegroom acted from levity, and willed something before which he shortly after did not will? Not at all. But recognize those alternations which I commended to you above, if you remember, and not once only, alternations namely of holy repose and necessary action; and that in this life there is no abundance of contemplating nor length of leisure, where the more pressing and more urgent usefulness of duty and work presses upon us. After his custom, therefore, when the Bridegroom perceives that the beloved has rested a little in his own bosom, he does not delay to draw her again to those things which seemed more useful. Not however as though she were unwilling: for what he forbade to be done, he himself would by no means do. But for the bride to be drawn by the Bridegroom is to receive from him the desire by which she is drawn, the desire for good works, the desire to bear fruit for the Bridegroom; since for her to live is the Bridegroom, and to die is gain.

And this is a vehement desire, which urges her not only to arise but also to arise hastily: for thus you have it: "Arise, make haste, and come." And it comforts her not a little that she hears "come" and not "go": understanding by this that she is not so much sent as led, and that the Bridegroom would come equally with her. For what would she reckon difficult with him as companion? "Set me," she says, "beside you, and let the hand of whomever fight against me" (Job 17:3); likewise: "If I shall walk in the midst of the shadow of death, I will not fear evils, for you are with me" (Ps 22:4). She is therefore not awakened against her will, since it is first brought about that she wills: which is nothing other than an infused eagerness for holy gain. She is also animated toward the enjoined work, and is rendered more eager by the opportunity of the time. "It is the time for doing," he says, "O bride, because the winter has passed, when no one could work. The rain also, which having made a flood covered the earth, impeded cultivation, and either destroyed what had been sown or prevented sowing; this rain, I say, has run off, has departed and receded; flowers have appeared in our land, signifying indeed that the springtime mildness is at hand, the convenience for working, the nearness of crops and fruits." Then he adds where and what must first be worked: "The time of pruning has arrived" (Song 2:11-12). She is led therefore to cultivating the vineyards: which, in order that they may repay the vine-dressers with more abundant fruits, it is above all necessary that the sterile branches be cast off, the noxious ones cut down, the superfluous ones pruned. These things according to the letter.

Also in the Song of Songs we find Christ calling to the bride there described, and who represents the person of the church, in these words: "Arise, come, my neighbor, my beautiful dove. For lo! the winter is past, and the rain is gone; it has passed away. The flowers appear on the ground. The time of the pruning is come." … A certain spring-like calm was about to arise for those who believe in him.

Then the bridegroom makes answer to the bride and teaches her that the shadow of the old law has passed away and the truth of the gospel has come. "Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away, for lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone." … "The voice of the turtle [dove] is heard in our land." The turtle [dove], the most chaste of birds, always dwelling in lofty places, is a type of the Savior.

Each one of the blessed will first be obliged to travel the narrow and hard way in winter to show what knowledge he has acquired for guiding his life, so that afterwards there may take place what is said in the Song of Songs to the bride when she has safely passed through the winter. For she says, "My beloved answers and says to me, 'Arise and come away, my love, my fair one, my dove; for lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.' " And you must keep in mind that you cannot hear "the winter is past" any other way than by entering the contest of this present winter with all your strength and might and main. And after the winter is past and the rain is over and gone, the flowers will appear that are planted in the house of the Lord and flourish in the courts of our God.

On account of faith, Christ calls his bride his friend; a dove on account of simplicity; beautiful on account of her works. For since without faith we cannot please God, rightly through faith we are called friends, because while by faith we seek heavenly things, having cast aside earthly things, we cling to God. The soul is rightly called a dove on account of simplicity, because while it searches for the simple God with simplicity of heart, it by no means pursues in dissoluteness the foolish joy of the world, but always hastening toward eternal things, it lovingly imitates the groaning of the dove. The soul is rightly called beautiful on account of her works, because while she redeems the sins of her past life through good works, she hides, as it were, her former ugliness by assuming a better form before the eyes of the Bridegroom. Therefore the Bridegroom exhorts her to arise and come, because it is fitting that whoever hastens to the love of Christ should cast off the sluggishness of the flesh as much as he can, and gird himself quickly to attain eternal things.

It makes sense, therefore, for the bridegroom to call the bride, mature in virtue as she is, "dove," that is, spiritual and filled with the Holy Spirit.…The bridegroom encourages and consoles his church in its struggle with trials, "peeps through the windows and looks in through the netting," and urges her to stand fast and to fly to him.… He is saying, if you rest in the middle of the two Testaments and draw benefit from both, you will find there the manifold gifts of the Spirit. The bride, accordingly, by accepting the spiritual exhortation and lying between the lots, found the wings coated in silver through which she was bidden fly up to the bridegroom.

For now the winter is past, etc. This is what the Apostle says: The night is far gone, the day is at hand. Let us then cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light (Rom. XIII). For as the darkness of night is correctly expressed by the harshness of winter and rains, so too is the storm of unbelief, which governed the whole world until the time of the Lord's incarnation. But when the Sun of righteousness shone upon the world, with the old perfidy of wintry unbelief soon departing and being driven away, flowers appeared on the earth, for the beginnings of the nascent Church shone in the faithful and pious devotion of the saints. The time of pruning has come. That is to say, as the Lord mentions in the Gospel, who, when He declared Himself the true vine and His Father the vinedresser, immediately added and said, Every branch in me that does not bear fruit He takes away, and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit (John XV). The duty of pruning can also be properly understood according to what the Apostle says: Putting off the old man with his deeds, put on the new (II Cor. III). Explaining this himself elsewhere, he says: Therefore, putting away all falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor (Eph. IV). And again: Let the one who steals steal no longer, but rather let him labor, doing honest work with his own hands (Ibid.).

Furthermore, the winter time, which he signifies has passed, seems to me to designate that period when the Lord Jesus no longer walked openly among the Jews, because they had conspired against him, wishing to kill him. Whence also he said to certain ones: "My time has not yet come; but your time is always ready"; and again: "Go up yourselves to this feast; I am not going up" (Jn 7:1-10). Yet he went up afterward himself also, not openly, but as it were in secret. From that time, then, and thenceforth until the coming of the Holy Spirit, by which the sluggish hearts of the faithful grew warm again, as by fire, which the Lord sent upon the earth for this very purpose (Lk 12:49), it was winter. Will you deny that it was winter then, when Peter sat at the coals, his heart no less frozen than his body? Finally: "It was cold," it says (Jn 18:18). A great cold indeed had gripped the heart of the one denying. Nor is it surprising, since the fire had been taken from him. For a little before he was burning with no small zeal, being as yet close to the fire, who, with sword drawn, lest he lose the fire, cut off the ear of the servant. But it was not the time of pruning: and therefore he hears: "Put your sword back in its place." For it was the hour and the power of darkness: and if any of the disciples then raised the sword either of iron or of the word, he was either to be cut down by iron and would gain no one, nor bring forth any fruit; or certainly he was to be compelled by the sword of fear to deny, and so rather he himself would perish, according to the word of the Lord which he added immediately, saying thus: "All who take the sword will perish by the sword" (Mt 26:51-52). For who among the rest would stand undaunted before the dreadful image of death, when the chief himself was trembling and yielding, he who had been fortified by the encouraging voice of his commander, and forewarned to strengthen the others? (Lk 22:32.)

But neither he nor they had yet clothed themselves with power from on high; and on this account it was not safe for them to go out into the vineyards, to wield the hoe of the tongue, and to prune the vines with the sword of the Spirit, to cleanse the branches, that they might bear more fruit. Finally, the Lord himself was silent in the Passion, and when questioned on many things did not answer (Mt 27:12), having become, according to the Prophet, "like a man not hearing, and not having reproofs in his mouth" (Ps 37:15). But he said: "If I shall tell you, you will not believe me; and if I shall also question you, you will not answer me" (Lk 22:67-68): knowing that the time of pruning had not yet arrived, and that his vineyard would in no way respond to the labors expended, that is, would bring back no fruit of faith or of good works. Why? Because it was winter in the hearts of the faithless, and certain wintry rains of malice had occupied the earth, readier to smother than to foster the seeds of the word that had been cast; but also to frustrate all the labor that should be equally expended on the cultivation of the vineyards.

What rains do you now think I mean? These which we see the turbulent clouds running through the air scattering upon the earth? It is not so. But those which men of turbulent spirit carry upward from the earth into the air, setting their mouth against heaven, and their tongue passing over the earth, as a most bitter rain, makes the earth itself marshy and barren, and useless both for plants and for sowings -- not indeed those visible and corporeal ones given for our bodily uses, of which plainly, as neither of oxen, God has no care. But which ones? Assuredly those which the hand of God, and not of man, sowed and planted; which could either sprout or take root in faith and charity, and bring forth fruits of salvation, if they were watered by good and timely rains. Souls, in short, they are, for which Christ died. Woe to the clouds raining such rains upon them, which make mud and bring forth no fruit! For just as there are both good and bad trees, each bearing fruits differing according to their unlikeness, good ones good and bad ones bad: so also I think there are both good clouds, which rain good rains, and bad ones, which rain bad. And see whether perhaps he who said this did not hint to us at this difference of clouds and rains: "I will command my clouds not to rain upon it" (beyond doubt upon the vineyard) "rain" (Is 5:6). Why do you think he pointedly added "my," unless because there are also bad clouds which are not his? "Away, away with him," they say, "crucify him" (Jn 19:15). O violent and turbulent clouds! O stormy rain! O torrent of iniquity, fit to overthrow rather than to make fruitful! Nor was that rain which followed any less bad or less bitter, though bursting forth with lesser force: "He saved others, he cannot save himself. Let Christ the King of Israel come down now from the cross, and we will believe him" (Mt 27:42). The windy loquacity of the philosophers is not a good rain, which brought barrenness to the lands rather than fertility. Much more are the perverse dogmas of the heretics bad rains, which produce thorns and thistles instead of fruits. Bad rains also are the traditions of the Pharisees, which the Savior rebuked, and they themselves are bad clouds. And unless you think I am doing an injustice to Moses -- for that cloud is a good one -- yet I will say that not everything which even it rained was good, lest I contradict him who says: "I gave them," that is, the Jews, "precepts that were not good" (without doubt through Moses) "and ordinances in which they would not live in them" (Ezek 20:25). That literal observance, for example, of the Sabbath, sounding of rest but not granting it; the prescribed rite of sacrifices; the prohibited eating of pork and of certain similar things which are judged unclean by Moses -- all this is rain descending from that cloud, but I do not want it ever to descend upon my field or my garden. It may well have been good in its own time; after its time, if it comes, I no longer judge it good. Even every gentle rain and gently descending, if it is untimely, is troublesome.

For us, brothers, it is always the time of pruning, just as it is always the work to be done. For I trust that for us the winter has now passed. You know what winter I mean? That fear which is not in charity, which although it initiates all to wisdom, perfects no one; because charity coming upon it drives it out, as summer does winter. For charity is summer: and if it has now come -- indeed, because it has come, as it is right for me to think of you -- it has necessarily dried up every wintry rain, every tear of anxiety, namely, which the bitter recollection of sin and the fear of judgment formerly wrung from us. And so -- which I say without doubt, even if not of all of you, certainly of very many -- this rain has now departed and receded: for flowers too appear, tokens of a sweeter rain. Summer has its own rains too, sweet and plentiful. What is sweeter than the tears of charity? For charity weeps, but from love, not from sorrow; it weeps from desire, it weeps with those who weep. With such rain I do not doubt that the acts of your obedience are more abundantly watered, which I look upon with gladness -- not gloomy with murmuring, not dimmed with sadness, but pleasant and blooming with a certain spiritual joy. They are as if you always bore flowers in your hands.

There is thus no doubt that winter has a double meaning, either that harshness and severity belong to it, or that it is a time for sowing with the coming of the rain. When it says winter, therefore, it refers to the present world, where the Word of God is sowed in this age like a seed of righteousness by prophets and apostles, or priests, and is fertilized by assiduous preaching, as though by rains from heaven.…But with the passing of winter, that is, the tribulations of this world, and the cessation of the rains, that is, the preaching of the Word of God, and the subsequent arrival of the joy of Spring (which designates the coming of Christ's vernal kingdom in great peace), then the bodies of the saints everywhere will emerge from the graves of the earth like flowers—lilies or roses—pure white with holiness and red with passion.

What is to be understood by winter, if not the austerity of the law? Which, while it held the ancient people in carnal sacrifices, did not help its observers to seek spiritual and heavenly things. We can also understand by winter the present life, which, while it assails us with constant temptations, compels us to grow sluggish in following Christ, as if by relentless rains. But let the bride now arise, because the winter has passed, since the more the last day presses near, the more the present life recedes, and the more time is drawn toward its end, the more quickly one must run, lest the chosen soul be deprived of the eternal gifts offered to it. For it is said to have "passed" because it is not doubted that it is about to pass away shortly.

The voice of the turtledove has been heard in our land. The voice of the preacher has been heard in the land, which has now begun to be ours, having received the word of faith; of which it is said in the psalm of the first Sabbath, that is the resurrection of the Lord, which has become the first of the Sabbaths; "The earth is the Lord's, and the fullness thereof" (Psalm 23). For the voice of the turtledove, which by its sound usually signifies the end of winter and the coming of spring, suits those who know how to say that the darkness has passed away, and the true light now shines (1 John 2). The voice of the turtledove, which humbly resounds with a groan instead of a song, fits those who, mindful of their pilgrimage and the promised homeland, are accustomed to say: "But we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait for the adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies." They also cry out to their listeners, "Be miserable, and mourn; let your laughter be turned into mourning, and your joy into sorrow." The bird itself, which is a lover of chastity, and always dwells on mountain peaks and treetops, represents the life of those who declare for themselves and others that it is good for a man not to touch a woman (1 Corinthians 7), and, "Our conversation is in heaven" (Philippians 3). For the fact that it shuns the roofs of men and their company and prefers to live in forests and deserts, signifies those who, although placed in the world in body, are separated from it in mind and desire to see the things above.

Now let us see what is spiritually to be understood by us from this quasi-historical figure. That the vineyards are souls or Churches, and at the same time what the reason for this is, I have already told you, and you have heard, nor do you need to hear it again. To revisiting these, then, to correcting, instructing, and saving them, the more perfect soul is invited, one who has received that ministry not by her own ambition but called by God, as was Aaron. Furthermore, what is this invitation itself, if not a certain inward stirring of charity piously urging us to be zealous for the salvation of our brothers, zealous for the beauty of the house of the Lord, for the increase of his gains, the increase of the fruits of his righteousness, the praise and glory of his name? Whenever, therefore, he who has the charge of governing souls, or who by office must devote himself to the study of preaching, perceives his inner man to be moved by such devout affections toward God, let him understand for certain that the Bridegroom is present, that he is being invited by him to the vineyards. For what purpose, unless to uproot and to destroy, and to build and to plant?

But since for this work, as also for every thing under heaven, not every time is available and fit, he who invites adds that the time of pruning has arrived. He who said this knew it was at hand: "Behold, now is the acceptable time, behold, now is the day of salvation; giving no offense to anyone, that our ministry may not be blamed" (2 Cor 6:2-3). Without doubt he was admonishing them to prune and cut away the vicious and superfluous, and indeed everything that could give offense and impede the fruit of salvation, knowing that the time of pruning had arrived. Therefore he also said to a certain faithful cultivator of vineyards: "Rebuke, reprove, exhort" (2 Tim 4:2); enjoining in the first and second of these pruning or uprooting, and in the last, planting. And these things the Bridegroom spoke through the mouth of Paul concerning the time for working. But hear what he spoke through his own mouth concerning the consideration of times, under indeed a different figure and name of things, when the bride was new. "Do you not say," he says, "that there are yet four months and the harvest comes? Behold, I say to you: Lift up your eyes and see the regions, for they are already white for the harvest" (Jn 4:35); likewise: "The harvest indeed is great, but the laborers are few: pray the Lord of the harvest to send laborers into his harvest" (Mt 9:37-38). Just as there, therefore, he was showing that the time for reaping the harvests of souls was at hand, so also here he announces that the time for pruning the equally intelligible vineyards, that is, souls or Churches, has arrived; wishing perhaps that this distinction be made between the two things by the diversity of terms, that by harvests we understand the peoples, and by vineyards the congregations of saints dwelling together.

As long, therefore, as pestilent waters of this kind had occupied the earth and prevailed upon it, the vineyards did not have their time, nor was there cause for the bride to be invited to prune the vineyards. But when those had run off, the dry land appeared, and flowers appeared in it, signifying that the time of pruning was at hand. You ask when this was? When do you think, if not when the flesh of Christ reflowered in the resurrection? And this is the first and greatest flower that appeared in our land. For "the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep is Christ" (1 Cor 15:20). He himself, I say, "the flower of the field and the lily of the valleys," Jesus (Song 2:1), as he was supposed the son of Joseph, from Nazareth (Lk 3:23), which is interpreted "flower." This flower therefore appeared first, not alone. For "many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep also arose together," who, like certain most brilliant flowers, appeared at the same time in our land. Finally, "they came into the holy city, and appeared to many" (Mt 27:52-53). Flowers also were those who first believed from among the people, the firstfruits of the saints. Their miracles were flowers, producing fruit of faith after the manner of flowers. For after that rain of unbelief had somewhat, or in part, departed and receded, there followed immediately a willing rain, which God set apart for his inheritance, and flowers began to appear. "The Lord gave his bounty, and our land gave its flowers," so that in one day three thousand, and in another five thousand from the people believed (Acts 2:41; 4:4): to such a degree in a short time the number of flowers, that is, the multitude of believers, increased. And the frost of malice could not prevail against the flowers that were appearing, nor snatch away, as it is wont to do, the fruit of life which they promised.

For when all who had believed were clothed with power from on high, there arose from among them men who despised the threats of men, strong in faith. They suffered indeed very many contradictors; but they did not yield, nor did they shrink from both doing and proclaiming the works of God. For according to that in the psalm, spiritually indeed: "And they sowed fields, and planted vineyards, and made the fruit of their produce" (Ps 106:37). In the course of time the storm was calmed, and with peace restored to the lands, the vineyards grew, and were propagated, and extended, and multiplied beyond number. And then at last the bride is invited to the vineyards, not indeed to plant, but to prune what had already been planted. Opportunely indeed: for that work required a time of peace. For when in a time of persecution would this be permitted? Otherwise, to take in hand two-edged swords, to execute vengeance upon the nations, rebukes upon the peoples; to bind their kings in fetters, and their nobles in chains of iron; and to execute upon them the judgment that was written (Ps 149:6-9) -- for this is to prune the vineyards -- these things, I say, are scarcely carried out even in a time of peace peaceably. And enough of these things.

The sermon could also have been ended, if first I had admonished each one of you, according to my custom, about his own vineyard. For who has so precisely cut away from himself all superfluous things that he thinks he has nothing worthy of pruning? Believe me, even what has been pruned sprouts again, and what has been driven off returns, and what has been extinguished is rekindled, and what has been lulled to sleep is once more stirred up. It is therefore too little to have pruned once; one must prune often -- indeed, if it could be, always -- because always, if you do not dissemble, you find what ought to be pruned. However far you may have advanced while remaining in this body, you err if you think your vices are dead and not rather suppressed. Whether you will or not, the Jebusite dwells within your borders (Judg 1:21); he can be subjugated, but not exterminated. "I know," he says, "that good does not dwell in me." It is not enough unless he also confesses that evil is present in him. For he says: "Not what I will, this I do; but what I hate, that I do. But if what I hate, that I do, it is no longer I who work it, but sin which dwells in me" (Rom 7:18-20). Either therefore, if you dare, prefer yourself to the Apostle -- for this is his own voice -- or confess with him that you too are not free from vices. Virtue indeed holds the middle ground among vices; and therefore you need not only diligent pruning, but also circumcision. Otherwise it is to be feared that, while the vices lick at it all around, or rather gnaw at it, virtue, while you are unaware, may little by little grow feeble; or, if they have grown over it, may be suffocated. In so great a peril, the one counsel is to observe diligently, and as soon as the heads of the regrowing ones appear, to cut them down with ready severity. Virtue cannot grow equally alongside vices. Therefore, that it may flourish, let these not be allowed to increase. Take away the superfluous, and wholesome things arise. Whatever you subtract from cupidity accrues to usefulness. Let us devote ourselves to pruning. Let cupidity be pruned, that virtue may be strengthened.

For us, brothers, it is always the time of pruning, just as it is always the work to be done. For I trust that for us the winter has now passed. You know what winter I mean? That fear which is not in charity, which although it initiates all to wisdom, perfects no one; because charity coming upon it drives it out, as summer does winter. For charity is summer: and if it has now come -- indeed, because it has come, as it is right for me to think of you -- it has necessarily dried up every wintry rain, every tear of anxiety, namely, which the bitter recollection of sin and the fear of judgment formerly wrung from us. And so -- which I say without doubt, even if not of all of you, certainly of very many -- this rain has now departed and receded: for flowers too appear, tokens of a sweeter rain. Summer has its own rains too, sweet and plentiful. What is sweeter than the tears of charity? For charity weeps, but from love, not from sorrow; it weeps from desire, it weeps with those who weep. With such rain I do not doubt that the acts of your obedience are more abundantly watered, which I look upon with gladness -- not gloomy with murmuring, not dimmed with sadness, but pleasant and blooming with a certain spiritual joy. They are as if you always bore flowers in your hands.

If therefore the winter has passed, the rain has departed and receded; if indeed flowers have appeared in our land, and thereupon a certain springtime mildness of spiritual grace announces the time of pruning: what remains except that henceforth we devote ourselves entirely to this work so holy, so necessary? Let us search, according to the prophet, our ways (Lam 3:40) and our pursuits, and in this let each one judge himself to have profited, not when he finds nothing to reprove, but when he reproves what he has found. Then you have not searched yourself in vain, if you have noticed that there is again need for searching: and so many times your inquiry has not deceived you, as many times as you have thought it must be repeated. But if you always do this when there is need, you always do it. Let it always be remembered therefore that you are in need of heavenly aid, and of the mercy of the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is over all things God blessed forever. Amen.

1. "The voice of the turtledove has been heard in our land" (Song 2:12). I can by no means any longer conceal the fact that behold, for a second time, he who is from heaven speaks of the earth: assuredly so condescendingly, so companionably, as if he were one from the earth. This is the Bridegroom: who, when he had said beforehand that flowers had appeared in the earth, added "our"; and now no less: "The voice," he says, "of the turtledove has been heard in our land." Shall then a manner of speaking so unusual for God, not to say unworthy, be without reason? Nowhere, as I think, will you find him having spoken thus of heaven, nowhere elsewhere of earth. Attend therefore, how great a sweetness it is for the God of heaven to say, "in our land." You also, O earth-born and sons of men, hear; "the Lord has done great things for us" (Ps 125:3). Much has he to do with the earth, much with the bride, whom he was pleased to take to himself from the lands. "In our land," he says. This word plainly does not sound of sovereignty, but of partnership, of familiarity. As a Bridegroom he says this, not as a Lord. What? He is the Creator, and he reckons himself a partner! Love is speaking, which knows no lord. This is indeed a song of love, and it was fitting that it be supported by none other than amatory expressions. God also loves, nor does he have this from elsewhere, but he himself is the source whence he loves. And therefore he loves more vehemently, because he does not so much have love, as he himself is this very thing. But those whom he loves, he has as friends, not as servants. Finally, from a master he becomes a friend: for he would not have called his disciples friends, if they were not such.

2. You see that even majesty yields to love? So it is, brothers; love looks up to no one, but neither does it look down on anyone. It regards all equally, who love one another perfectly, and in itself it tempers together the lofty and the lowly; not only making them equals, but one. Perhaps you still think that God is excepted from this rule of love; but "he who clings to God is one spirit" (1 Cor 6:17). Why do you marvel at this? He himself was made as one of us. I have said too little: not as one, but one. It is a small thing to be equal to men: he is man. Thence he claims our land for himself, but as a homeland, not as a possession. Why should he not claim it? Thence comes his bride, thence the substance of his body; thence the Bridegroom himself; thence "two in one flesh." If one flesh, why not also one homeland? "The heaven of heaven is the Lord's," it says, "but the earth he has given to the sons of men" (Ps 113:16). Therefore as Son of Man he inherits the earth, as Lord he subjects it, as Creator he administers it, as Bridegroom he shares it. For by saying "in our land," he plainly renounced exclusive ownership, but did not refuse partnership. And let this suffice concerning the fact that the Bridegroom used so kindly a word, that he deigned to say, "in our land." Now let us consider the rest.

3. "The voice of the turtledove has been heard in our land." This too is a sign that winter has passed, announcing no less that the time of pruning is at hand. This according to the letter. Otherwise, the voice of the turtledove does not sound very sweet, but it signifies sweet things. The little bird itself, if you buy it, is not of great cost; if you examine it, it is not of small worth. And its voice indeed, more like a moaning than a singing, reminds us of our pilgrimage. Gladly do I hear the voice of that teacher: who moves not applause for himself, but lamentation in me. Truly you display the turtledove, if you teach how to groan: and if you wish to persuade, you will need to strive for it by groaning rather than by declaiming. Example indeed, both in many other things and especially in this matter, is more effective than the word. You will give to your voice the voice of power, if what you urge you are recognized to have first persuaded yourself of. The voice of deed is stronger than the voice of mouth. Do as you speak, and not only will you correct me more easily, but you will also free yourself from no slight reproach. It will no longer pertain to you, if someone says: "They bind heavy and unbearable burdens, and lay them on the shoulders of men, but with their own finger they are unwilling to move them" (Mt 23:4). But neither need you fear that saying: "You who teach others, do you not teach yourself?" (Rom 2:21).

4. "The voice of the turtledove has been heard in our land." As long as men received for the worship of God a reward only on earth, and only earth, namely that land flowing with milk and honey, they by no means recognized themselves as pilgrims upon earth, nor did they groan after the manner of the turtledove as if remembering their homeland; but rather, using their exile as a homeland, they gave themselves to eating rich foods and drinking sweet wine. Thus for so long the voice of the turtledove was not heard in our land. But when the promise of the kingdom of heaven was made, then men understood that they did not have here an abiding city, but began to seek the future one with all eagerness; and then for the first time the voice of the turtledove sounded clearly in the land. For while each holy soul was sighing for the presence of Christ, bearing with difficulty the delay of the kingdom, greeting from afar the desired homeland with groans and sighs: does it not seem to you that any soul that had so acted on earth was fulfilling the role of the groaning and most chaste turtledove? From that time therefore and henceforth the voice of the turtledove has been heard in our land. Why should not the absence of Christ move me to frequent tears and daily groaning! "Lord, before you is all my desire, and my groaning is not hidden from you" (Ps 37:10). "I have labored in my groaning," you know; but blessed is he who was able to say: "I will wash my bed every night, with my tears I will drench my couch" (Ps 6:7). And not only for me, but also for all who love his coming, these groanings have been experienced. For this is what he himself was saying. "Can the sons of the bridegroom mourn," he says, "as long as the bridegroom is with them? But the days will come, when the bridegroom shall be taken from them, and then they will mourn" (Mt 9:15); as if he were saying: And then the voice of the turtledove will be heard.

5. So it is, good Jesus, those days have come. For "creation itself groans and travails until now, awaiting the revelation of the sons of God. And not only it, but we ourselves also groan within ourselves, awaiting the adoption of the sons of God, the redemption of our body" (Rom 8:22-23): knowing this, that "as long as we are in this body, we are pilgrims from the Lord" (2 Cor 5:1-6). Nor are the groanings vain, to which such a merciful answer is given from heaven: "Because of the misery of the helpless and the groaning of the poor, now I will arise, says the Lord" (Ps 11:6). There was also in the time of the Fathers this voice of those groaning; but it was rare, and each one's groaning was kept to himself. Whence also someone would say: "My secret is mine, my secret is mine" (Is 24:16). But also he who said: "My groaning is not hidden from you," surely showed that it was hidden from all, since it was not hidden from God alone. And therefore it could not then be said: "The voice of the turtledove has been heard in our land"; because the secret, still belonging to a few, had not yet gone out to the multitude. But when it was openly proclaimed: "Seek the things that are above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God" (Col 3:1), this turtle-like groaning began to pertain to all, and there was one reason for groaning for all, because all knew the Lord, according to what is read in Jeremiah: "And they shall all know me, from the least to the greatest, says the Lord" (Jer 31:34).

6. But if many are groaning, what does the mention of one signify? "The voice of the turtledove," it says. Why not "of turtledoves"? Perhaps the Apostle resolves this, where he says that "the Spirit himself intercedes for the saints with unutterable groanings" (Rom 8:26). So it is. He himself is introduced as groaning, who makes others groan. And however many they be whom you hear groaning thus, the voice of one sounds through the lips of all. Why not his, who forms that very voice in the mouth of each according to the needs of each? Finally, "to each one is given the manifestation of the Spirit for profit" (1 Cor 12:7). His own voice makes each one manifest and indicates his presence. And hear from the Gospel, that the Holy Spirit has a voice. "The Spirit," he says, "breathes where he wills, and you hear his voice; and you do not know whence he comes or where he goes" (Jn 3:8). Even if that one did not know, who, a dead teacher, was teaching the dead the letter that kills; let us know, who, having been translated from death to life through the life-giving Spirit, prove by certain and daily experience, with him illuminating us, that our prayers and groanings come from him, and go to him, and there find mercy in the eyes of God. For when would God make void the voice of his own Spirit? But he himself knows what the Spirit desires, because he intercedes according to God for the saints.

7. Nor do groanings alone commend the turtledove; chastity also commends it. By the merit of this chastity indeed it was worthy to be given as an offering for the virginal birth. For so you have it: "A pair of turtledoves, or two young pigeons" (Lk 2:24). And although elsewhere indeed the Holy Spirit is usually designated by a dove; yet because it is a lustful bird, it was not fitting that it be offered in sacrifice to the Lord, except at that age when it would not know lust. But no age is specified for the turtledove, because its chastity is recognized at every age. For it is content with a single mate; and when that one is lost, it no longer admits another, reproving the multiplicity of marriages among humans. For even if perhaps the fault is venial on account of incontinence, yet such great incontinence itself is shameful. It is a cause for shame that reason in a human being cannot accomplish for the matter of honor what nature can accomplish in a bird. For one may observe the turtledove in the time of its widowhood, strenuously and tirelessly carrying out the work of holy widowhood. You will see it everywhere solitary, everywhere you will hear it groaning; nor will you ever observe it perching on a green branch, so that you may learn from it to avoid the poisonous greenery of pleasures. Add that on the ridges of mountains and on the tops of trees its dwelling is more frequent: so that, what especially befits the commitment of chastity, it may teach us to despise earthly things and to love heavenly things.

8. From these things it is gathered that the voice of the turtledove is also the preaching of chastity. For in the beginning this voice was not heard on earth, but rather that one: "Increase and multiply and fill the earth" (Gen 1:28). In vain indeed would the voice of chastity have sounded, when the homeland of those rising again had not yet been revealed: in which far more happily "men will neither marry nor be given in marriage, but are as the angels of God in heaven" (Lk 20:35-36). You would say that there was a time for that voice, when every barren woman in Israel was subject to a curse, when the Patriarchs themselves had several wives at the same time, when a brother was compelled by the law to raise up offspring for a brother who had died without children. But when the commendation of those eunuchs "who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of God" (Mt 19:12) sounded from the mouth of the heavenly turtledove; and likewise the counsel of another, that same most chaste turtledove, concerning virgins everywhere prevailed (1 Cor 7:25), then for the first time it could be truly said, that "the voice of the turtledove has been heard in our land."

9. Therefore, if in our land both flowers have appeared and the voice of the turtledove has been heard, then assuredly the truth has been ascertained both by sight and by hearing. For a voice is heard, a flower is seen. A flower is a miracle, as our earlier interpretation has it, which, coming to the voice, brings forth the fruit of faith. Even if faith comes from hearing, yet from sight comes confirmation. A voice sounded, a flower shone forth, and "truth has sprung from the earth" (Ps 84:12) through the confession of the faithful, with word and sign alike concurring in testimony of faith. These testimonies have been made exceedingly credible, since the flower testifies to the voice, the eye to the ear. Things heard are confirmed by things seen, so that the testimony of the two (I speak of the ear and the eye) may be established. For this reason the Lord was saying: "Go, report to John" (for he was speaking to his disciples) "what you have heard and seen" (Lk 7:22). Nor could the certainty of faith have been conveyed to them more briefly or more clearly. The same persuasion was indeed made in a short time to the whole earth as well, and by the same shortcut of argument. "What you have heard," he says, "and seen." O abbreviated word, yet living and effective! Without doubt I surely assert what I have perceived with my ears and eyes. The trumpet of salvation sounds, miracles flash forth, and the world believes. What is said is quickly believed, when what causes astonishment is shown. But you have it that the apostles "went forth and preached everywhere, the Lord working with them, and confirming the word with signs that followed" (Mk 16:20). You have him on the mountain transfigured with stupendous brightness, and no less attested by a voice from above (Mt 17:2-5). You have at the Jordan likewise both a dove designating, and a voice testifying (Mt 3:16-17). Thus these two things everywhere equally, voice and sign, concur from divine bounty for the introduction of faith: so that a wide entrance to the soul through both windows may lie open for the truth.

Such did the Savior of all become toward us, showing the most perfect gentleness, and like a turtle [dove], moreover, soothing the world and filling his own vineyard, even us who believe in him, with the sweet sound of his voice. For it is written in the Song of Songs, "The voice of the turtle[dove] has been heard in our land." For Christ has spoken to us the divine message of the gospel, which is for the salvation of the whole world.

The flowers are said to have appeared on the earth, because when holy souls depart from their bodies, they are received in heaven. And because in this life, although it was winter, they did not grow sluggish from good work, as soon as they departed, they gloriously flourished in the land of the living. Rightly therefore follows what he says: The time of pruning has arrived, because the more the number of the elect is gathered in heaven, the more quickly the reprobate are cut off from the Church like useless branches, so that the world may end more swiftly.

What is designated by the turtledove, if not the Church; what by the land of the bridegroom, if not that blessed life? But the voice of the turtledove is said to have been heard in the land of the bridegroom, because while the holy Church prays for what it desires, it is most mercifully heard by Christ in heaven.

The fig tree has produced its early fruit. They call the early and immature figs "grossi," which are unsuitable for eating and fall off even with a light touch if shaken. And when the turtle dove is singing, the fig tree produced its early fruit, for when the apostles were preaching in Judea, the synagogue produced many who had zeal for God, but not according to knowledge; who would rather hold to the still imperfect and as if immature observance of the letter of the law than receive in it the sweetness of spiritual understanding. Apponius explains this verse in such a way that the fig tree produced its early fruit when the synagogue brought forth apostles, who, being generated from it, would minister the sweetest food of doctrine to believers. And since, when the synagogue brought forth either the apostles who preached the Gospel or those who still tried to prefer the ceremonies of the law over the Gospel, nevertheless, at that time, the faith and salvation of the whole world followed...

The flowering vines have given forth their fragrance. For through the blossoming of the vines, the beginnings of the multiplying Churches, from that one which was first planted in Jerusalem, through its fragrance diffused far and wide, its fame was expressed. For what is more pleasant than the fragrance of a flowering vine? Since indeed the juice expressed from their flowers makes the kind of cup that is suitable for both health and pleasure. Who would not easily see the comparison with the reputation of good deeds? Therefore, the example of the vines, from which wine is born that gladdens the heart of man, is fitting both for the churches of the faithful in general and for the elect individually, who bring forth spiritual joy and gladness for themselves. According to the Apostle: "This is our glory, the testimony of our conscience" (I Cor. III). And as the Psalmist says, "All the glory of the king's daughter is within" (Psalm XLV). Saint Jerome explains these verses thus: "the voice of the turtle-dove has been heard in our land: The turtle-dove, the most chaste bird, always dwelling in the heights, is a type of the Savior." And a little later, "And immediately the turtle-dove says to the turtle-dove: The fig tree has brought forth its green figs, that is, the precepts of the old law have fallen, and from the Gospel, the flowering vines have given forth their fragrance."

On the Unbelief of the Jews, by Which They Filled Up the Measure of Their Fathers in Killing Christ.

1. "The fig tree has put forth its green figs" (Song 2:13). The present passage depends on what preceded. For he had said that the time of pruning had come, asserting this both from the flowers that were already appearing and from the voice of the turtledove that had been heard. He affirms the same thing still further from the production of green figs; because the evidence of the season is taken not only from the flowers and the voice of the turtledove, but is taken also from the fig tree. For the air is not other than more clement when the fig tree has put forth its green figs. The fig tree has no flowers, but in place of flowers it sends forth green figs at the time when the other trees bloom. And just as flowers appear and pass away, useful for nothing except that they are certain forerunners of the fruit to follow, so also the green figs. They arise, but they fall prematurely, and give place to the fruits that are to ripen, being themselves in no way fit for eating. And from this therefore, as I said, the Bridegroom takes the evidence of the season, and the argument of his persuasion, that the bride should not be slow to go to the vineyards, because the labor is not lost that comes in due season. And the letter indeed is thus.

2. But what does the spirit say? That plainly in this place we may look not upon a fig tree, but upon a people: for God has care for men, not for trees. Truly a fig tree is the people, fragile in flesh, small in understanding, humble in spirit, whose first fruits, that we may meanwhile play upon the name, are certainly gross and earthly. For it is not the pursuit of the common people to seek first the kingdom of God and his justice (Mt 6:33); but, as the Apostle says, to think about the things of the world, how they may please their wives, or they their husbands. "Those of this kind will have tribulation of the flesh" (1 Cor 7:33, 28); but in the last things we do not deny that they will attain the fruits of faith, if they have had a good final confession, and especially if they have redeemed the works of the flesh with almsgiving. Therefore the first fruits of the common people are no more fruits than the green figs of fig trees. Finally, if they shall afterward have brought forth worthy fruits of repentance (for "that which is spiritual is not first, but that which is natural" [1 Cor 15:46]), it shall be said to them: "What fruit did you have then in those things of which you are now ashamed?" (Rom 6:21).

3. Yet in this place I do not think it free to interpret this of just any people: one is pointedly expressed. For he did not say "they put forth," as if speaking of many; but as if of one, he says, "the fig tree put forth its green figs"; and, as I understand it, she who is the people of the Jews. How much does the Savior seem to speak parabolically against this people in the Gospel? As is that saying: "A certain man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard" (Lk 13:6) etc.; likewise: "Look at the fig tree and all the trees" (Lk 21:29); and to Nathanael it was said: "When you were under the fig tree, I saw you" (Jn 1:48). And again he curses the fig tree, because he did not find fruit on it (Mk 11:13-14). Rightly a fig tree, which, although it came forth from the good root of the patriarchs, nevertheless never wished to grow up on high, never to lift itself from the ground, never to correspond to its root in the loftiness of its branches, the nobility of its flowers, the fruitfulness of its fruits. Badly indeed do you agree with your root, O tree small, twisted, and knotted. For the root is holy. What appears in your branches that is worthy of it? "The fig tree," he says, "has put forth its green figs." You did not draw these from your noble root, O wicked seed. What is in it is from the Holy Spirit; and therefore is altogether subtle and sweet. From where do you have these green figs? And truly what was not gross in that nation? Neither its deeds, certainly, nor its affections, nor its understanding, and not even the rite it had in worshipping God. For its deeds were entirely in wars, its affections entirely in profits, its understanding in the thickness of the letter, its worship in the blood of cattle and herds.

4. But someone says: since that nation never at any time ceased to put forth green figs of this kind, therefore there was never a time when the time of pruning did not exist, because one and the same time is declared to exist for both things. It is not so. We say that women have brought forth children, not when they are in labor, but when they have already given birth. We also say that trees have put forth their flowers, not when they have begun to bloom, but rather when they have ceased. So here also it is said that the fig tree has put forth its green figs, not when it produced some of them, but when it produced them all, that is, when the production reached its end. You ask at what time such a completion befell that people? When it killed Christ, then its malice was completed, according to what he himself had foretold to them: "Fill up the measure of your fathers" (Mt 23:32). Whence on the cross, about to deliver up his spirit, he said: "It is finished" (Jn 19:30). O what a consummation this accursed fig tree gave to its green figs, and was thereupon condemned with eternal barrenness! O how the last things are worse than the first! Beginning from useless things, it arrived at things pernicious and poisonous. O gross and viperous affection, to hate the man who heals the bodies of men and saves their souls! O understanding no less gross and certainly bovine, who did not recognize God even in the works of God!

5. Perhaps the Jew may complain that I am too much given to reviling him, since I call his understanding bovine. But let him read in Isaiah, and he will hear it is worse than bovine. "The ox," he says, "has known its owner, and the ass the manger of its lord: Israel has not known me; my people has not understood" (Is 1:3). You see me, O Jew, more mild toward you than your own prophet. I have compared you to beasts; he sets you beneath them. Although the prophet did not say this in his own person, but in the person of God, who proclaims himself God even by his very works: "Even if you do not believe me," he says, "believe the works: if I do not do the works of my Father, do not believe" (Jn 10:38, 37); and not even so do they rouse themselves to understanding. Not the flight of demons, not the obedience of the elements, not the life of the dead, was able to drive away from them this bestial, and more than bestial, dullness: from which no less wondrous than wretched blindness it came about that they rushed into that so horrible and so enormously gross crime, laying sacrilegious hands upon the Lord of majesty. From that time therefore it could be said that the fig tree had put forth its green figs, when now the lawful things of that people began to be, as it were, at their departure upon the summit: so that, according to the ancient prophecy, as new things came upon them, the old things might be cast away (Lev 26:10). Not otherwise, surely, than as green figs fall and yield to the good figs arising after them. "So long," he says, "as the fig tree did not cease producing its green figs, I did not call you, O bride, knowing that the best figs could not come forth at the same time. But now, when those that had first to be produced have been produced, I invite you not now untimely, since good and salutary fruits are known to be near at hand, about to replace the useless ones."

6. "For the vines in flower have given their fragrance"; which is likewise a sign of approaching fruit. This fragrance puts serpents to flight. They say that when the vines are in flower, every poisonous creeping thing yields its place, and can in no way bear the fragrance of the new flowers. I wish our novices to attend to this, and to act with confidence, considering what manner of spirit they have received, whose first-fruits the demons cannot endure. If such is the fervor of a novice, what will be the accomplished perfection? Let the fruit be estimated from the flower, and the virtue of the savor from the force of the fragrance. "The vines in flower have given their fragrance." And indeed in the beginning it was so. Upon the preaching of the new grace there followed a newness of life in those who had believed, who had their manner of life good among the nations. They "were the good odor of Christ in every place" (2 Cor 2:14-15). A good odor, a good testimony. This fragrance proceeds from a good work as from a flower. And since with such a flower and such a fragrance in the beginnings of the nascent faith, faithful souls, as certain spiritual vineyards, appeared filled, having good testimony also from those who were outside; not unfittingly, as I think, we understand it to be said of them that "the vines in flower have given their fragrance." To what end? So that those who had not yet believed, provoked by that fragrance, considering them from their good works, might themselves also glorify God, and so that fragrance might begin to be for them "an odor of life unto life." Therefore they are not without cause reported to have given their fragrance, who sought not their own glory, but the salvation of others from their good reputation. Otherwise they might, in the manner of certain ones, "esteem godliness as gain," for example, of display, of reward. But that would be not to give the fragrance, but to sell it. But now, because they did all their things in charity, they plainly did not sell the fragrance, but gave it.

7. Moreover, if the vines are souls, the flower is the work, the fragrance is the reputation: what is the fruit? Martyrdom. And truly the fruit of the vine is the blood of the martyr. "When he has given sleep to his beloved, behold, the inheritance of the Lord is children, the reward is the fruit of the womb" (Ps 126:2-3). I had nearly said, the fruit of the vine. Why should I not call it the most pure blood of the grape, the blood of the innocent, the blood of the just? Why not the ruddy must, proven, precious, plainly from the vineyard of Sorech, pressed out in the winepress of the passion? Finally, "precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints" (Ps 115:5). This is said on account of the statement that the vines in flower have given their fragrance.

8. Thus, if we prefer to refer this passage to the times of grace, or if it is more pleasing that it be referred to the Fathers (for "the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel" [Is 5:7]), the meaning will be: the prophets and patriarchs caught the scent of Christ, who was to be born and to die in the flesh, but they did not then give forth this same fragrance of theirs, because they did not exhibit in the flesh him whom they perceived in the spirit. They did not give their fragrance, nor did they make public their secret, waiting for it to be revealed in its own time. Who indeed would then have grasped the wisdom hidden in mystery, not yet exhibited in the body? And so the vines at that time did not give their fragrance. But they gave it afterward, when through the successions of generations they brought forth Christ born from them according to the flesh by a virginal birth into the ages. Then plainly, I say, those spiritual vines gave their fragrance, when "the kindness and the humanity of God our Savior appeared" (Tit 3:4); and the world began to have present him whom few had yet perceived while absent. That man, for example, who touching Jacob and sensing Christ, said: "Behold, the odor of my son is as the odor of a full field, which the Lord has blessed" (Gen 27:27); when he said this, he kept his delights to himself and communicated them to no one. But when the fullness of time came, "in which God sent his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, that he might redeem those who were under the law" (Gal 4:4-5); then altogether the fragrance that was in him spread itself everywhere, so that the Church, sensing it from the ends of the earth, cried out: "Your name is oil poured out"; and "the young maidens ran in the odor of this oil" (Song 1:2, 3). So this vine gave its fragrance, and at that time the others also gave theirs, in whom this same odor of life had existed. Why should they not have given it, they from whom is Christ according to the flesh? It is said therefore that the vines have given their fragrance, either because faithful souls spread a good reputation of themselves everywhere; or because the oracles and revelations of the Fathers were made manifest to the world, and into all the earth went forth their fragrance, the Apostle saying: "Confessedly great is the mystery of godliness, which was manifested in the flesh, justified in the spirit, appeared to angels, was preached to the nations, was believed in the world, was taken up in glory" (1 Tim 3:16).

9. It would be strange indeed if neither the fig trees nor these vines have anything that edifies our conduct. I judge this passage to be a moral one as well. I say moreover, by the grace of God which is in us, that we have both fig trees and vines. Fig trees indeed are those who are sweeter in their ways; but vines, those who are more fervent in spirit. Everyone who among us acts in a common and sociable manner, and not only lives without complaint among the brethren, but also with much sweetness offers himself to all for their enjoyment in every office of charity, why should I not most fittingly say that he takes the place of a fig tree? Who nevertheless must first put forth and cast away his green figs, namely the fear of judgment, which perfect charity casts out; and the bitterness of sins, which must yield to true confession and the infusion of grace and the frequent shedding of tears, and other such things which, in the manner of green figs, precede the sweetness of the fruits: which things you also can think of by yourselves.

10. That I may nevertheless still add something of this kind that occurs to me, consider whether perhaps even these may be reckoned among the green figs: knowledge, prophecy, tongues, and the like. For these, in the manner of green figs, are destined to fail and to yield to better things, the Apostle saying that "knowledge will be destroyed, and prophecies will be emptied, and tongues will cease." Faith itself too understanding will exclude, and it is necessary that vision succeed hope. For what one sees, why does he hope for it? "Charity alone never falls away" (1 Cor 13:8), but that by which God is loved with the whole heart, the whole soul, and the whole strength (Lk 10:27). Therefore I would by no means number this among the green figs, nor would I say it pertains to the fig tree, but to the vines. Now those who are vines show themselves to us as more severe than sweet, acting in a vehement spirit, zealous for discipline, most sharply rebuking vices, fitting to themselves most congruently that voice: "Did I not hate those who hate you, O Lord, and waste away over your enemies?" (Ps 138:21). Likewise: "The zeal of your house has consumed me" (Ps 68:10). And to me indeed the former seem to excel in the love of neighbor, while the latter excel in the love of God. But it is pleasing to rest under this vine and under this fig tree, where the love of God and of neighbor gives its shade. I hold both when I love you, Lord Jesus Christ, who are my neighbor, because you are man, and have shown mercy to me; and who are no less God blessed above all things forever. Amen.

"Arise, my love, my bride, and come" (Song 2:13). The Bridegroom commends his great love by repeating words of affection. For repetition is an expression of feeling: and that he again urges the beloved to the labor of the vineyards shows how anxious he is for the salvation of souls. For you have already heard that the vineyards are souls. Let us not linger needlessly on things that have been said. See what follows. Yet nowhere, as I recall, in this entire work had he yet openly called her bride, except now when they go to the vineyards, when the wine of charity is being approached. When this has come and been perfected, it will make a spiritual marriage; and they will be two, not in one flesh, but in one spirit, as the Apostle says: "He who clings to God is one spirit" (1 Cor 6:17).

10. There follows: "The fig tree has put forth its green figs." Let us not eat of them: for they are not fit for eating on account of their unripeness. They have the appearance of good figs, but the likeness, not the flavor, perhaps designating hypocrites. Let us not cast them away, however; perhaps at another time we will have need of them. Otherwise they will fall of themselves easily enough, and before their time, "like grass upon the rooftops, which withers before it is plucked up" (Ps 128:6); which I believe is said of hypocrites. Not without reason, however, was mention made of them in the wedding song. They will without doubt be of some use, even if not for eating. Many things besides food are necessarily provided at weddings. I indeed consider this matter so far from something to be passed over, that whatever it is, I am unwilling to discuss it within the constraints of the closing of this sermon; but I defer it to another day and a freer hour. Whether indeed it is necessary, you will then be able to judge: only let your prayers obtain for me the opportunity and the ability to set forth what I think, for your own edification, to the praise and glory of the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ the Lord, who is over all things God blessed forever. Amen.

Immediately the turtle says to its fellow, "The fig tree has put forth its green figs," that is, the commandments of the old law have fallen, and the blossoming vines of the gospel give forth their fragrance.… While you covered your countenance like Moses and the veil of the law remained, I neither saw your face, nor did I condescend to hear your voice. I said, "Yes, when you make many prayers, I will not hear." But now, with unveiled face behold my glory, and shelter yourself in the cleft and steep places of the solid rock.

For the fig tree put forth its green figs, because the holy Church sent its martyrs ahead to the eternal homeland. After whom the flowering vines gave their fragrance, because throughout the whole world examples of good works increased. The vines indeed produce flowers when the individual churches lead souls previously unbelieving to the newness of faith through baptism. But the flowers themselves bring forth fragrance when believing souls spread good examples to one another and to others through a sweet reputation. But because Christ draws us by both modes of exhortation — namely, that he both admonishes us by precepts and raises us up by the examples of the saints — therefore he first commanded his bride by admonishing her to arise, and then brought the examples of the saints to her knowledge, and after the presentation of examples he again turned to the admonition of precept.

The soul rises when it lifts itself from the commission of sin; it comes when through good works it advances with the holy steps of holy desire toward heavenly things. For when a holy mind beholds the shameful deeds of its past life, when it counts up the sins it has committed, it soon blushes with shame within its own conscience, and turning to hatred everything it had loved in the world, it punishes itself with tears, and made stronger by that very repentance, it leaps free from every defilement and shakes itself loose from all the sluggishness of negligence, so that it no longer lies prostrate in base thoughts but stretches itself out through holy desires toward the longing for invisible things. This mind, therefore, rises and comes, because it both lifts itself from the weakness of torpor through compunction and, exercising itself in holy pursuits, runs toward eternal things on the feet of love.

Show me your face, etc. You who in the hidden recesses of quiet, like a dove in the clefts of the rock, or in the hole of the wall, desire to be concealed, I pray that you come forth into the public sphere of action, and show your faith from your works, and declare to others also outwardly as an example what beauty you have within. For indeed to me, who perceive the inner part of the heart, I consider your face shown when I see your action demonstrating unblemished, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, for the benefit of others. For as long as one does something to the least of these, they do it to Me. Let your voice sound in my ears, namely the voice of praise or preaching, that is, either which praises me in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, or which by proclaiming stirs the mouths and minds of others to my praise. Therefore, the bride shows her face to the Lord in what she does in His sight; she also shows the sound of her voice in what she rightly says before Him. It is also to be considered more attentively what He says, Show me your face. He says, yours, not another's, that is, holy and unblemished: for such I have made it, cleansing it by the washing of water with the word; such I have perfected by the anointing of the Holy Spirit, signing upon you the light of my face. Let your voice sound in my ears, not another's, that is, the one which I taught you to have on your wedding day, by which you promised to keep your chastity for me. Again show me your face, let your voice sound in my ears, that is, to me, not to others, show your face. To my ears, not others, remember to give your voice; that is, for the sake of my love, not any other reason, and take care to do good works and speak holy words; for whoever expends their good works or words for human approval shows the beauty of their face or the sweetness of their voice to externals rather than to the Creator. But also according to the letter, women who strive to beautify the face of their body for the deception of fools and to soften their words over oil are transgressors of this Lord's precept, and therefore remain unworthy of that eminent praise by which the Lord glorifies His bride...

Because your voice is sweet, etc. Indeed, the voice of that soul is sweet to the Lord, which knows how either to announce the words of the Lord to neighbors or to resound praises to the Lord Himself sweetly with the prophet, How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth (Psalm 119)! That face seems beautiful to the Lord, which strives to present itself as worthy to behold His face, which is accustomed to say to Him from the innermost heart, I have sought Your face, O Lord; Your face will I seek; do not turn Your face away from me (Psalm 27). However, our diligence in cleanliness will not be sufficient for us, if we do not also correct those who err, as much as we can, if we do not care to defend the weaker ones from their snares...

There follows: "My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hollows of the wall, show me your face, let your voice sound in my ears." He loves and continues to speak words of love. Again he calls her dove as a term of endearment; he says she is his, and claims her as his own: and what he himself was accustomed to be more earnestly asked by her, he now in turn requests both her presence and her conversation. He acts as a bridegroom; but as a modest one, he blushes at what is public, and resolves to enjoy his delights in a secluded place, namely in the clefts of the rock and in the hollows of the wall. Suppose therefore the Bridegroom to speak thus: Do not fear, my love, as though this labor of the vineyards to which we exhort you should impede or interrupt the business of love. There will certainly be some use in it for what we both desire. The vineyards indeed have walls, and these have retreats pleasant to the modest. This is the play of the letter. Why should I not call it play? For what serious thing does this sequence of the letter have? What is heard outwardly is not even worthy of hearing, unless the Spirit inwardly aids the weakness of our understanding. Let us therefore not remain outside, lest we seem to be rehearsing the enticements of shameful loves, which God forbid! Bring chaste ears to the discourse that is in hand concerning love; and when you think of the lovers themselves, you ought to understand not a man and a woman, but the Word and a soul. And if I should say Christ and the Church, it is the same; except that by the name of the Church is designated not one soul, but the unity of many, or rather the unanimity. Nor indeed should you think the clefts of the rock or the hollows of the wall to be hiding places of workers of iniquity, lest any suspicion at all should arise concerning works of darkness.

Another has expounded this passage thus, interpreting the clefts of the rock as the wounds of Christ. Rightly indeed; for the rock is Christ. Good clefts, which build up faith in the resurrection and the divinity of Christ. "My Lord," he says, "and my God" (Jn 20:28). Whence was this oracle brought back, if not from the clefts of the rock? In these the sparrow has found herself a house, and the turtledove a nest where she may place her young (Ps 83:4); in these the dove protects herself, and fearlessly beholds the hawk circling about. And therefore he says: "My dove in the clefts of the rock." The voice of the dove: "Upon a rock he has exalted me" (Ps 26:6); and likewise: "He has set," she says, "my feet upon a rock" (Ps 39:3). A wise man builds his house upon a rock, because there he fears neither the injuries of winds nor of floods (Mt 7:24-25). What good thing is not in the rock? Upon the rock I am exalted, upon the rock I am secure, upon the rock I stand firmly. Secure from the enemy, strong against falling; and this because I am exalted from the earth. For everything earthly is uncertain and prone to falling. Let our way of life be in heaven, and we shall fear neither to fall nor to be cast down. The rock is in heaven; in it is firmness and security. "The rock is a refuge for hedgehogs" (Ps 103:18). And truly, where is there safe and firm security and rest for the weak, if not in the wounds of the Savior? So much the more securely do I dwell there, as he is more powerful to save. The world rages, the body presses, the devil lies in ambush: I do not fall; for I am founded upon a firm rock. I have sinned a great sin: my conscience will be troubled, but it will not be confounded, because I will remember the wounds of the Lord. For indeed "he was wounded for our iniquities" (Is 53:5). What is so deadly that it cannot be loosed by the death of Christ? If therefore so powerful and so efficacious a remedy comes to mind, I can no longer be terrified by any malignity of disease.

And therefore it is clear that he erred who said: "My iniquity is greater than that I should deserve pardon" (Gen 4:13). Except that he was not of the members of Christ, nor did it pertain to him to presume upon the merit of Christ, to call his own what was Christ's; as a member would claim what belongs to the head. But I confidently take for myself from the bowels of the Lord what I lack of my own, because they overflow with mercy; nor are there lacking clefts through which they may flow out. They have dug his hands and his feet, and they have pierced his side with a lance: and through these openings it is permitted me to suck honey from the rock, and oil from the hardest stone; that is, to taste and see that the Lord is sweet. He was thinking thoughts of peace, and I did not know it. For who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor? But the key that opens, the nail that penetrates, has become for me the means to see the will of the Lord. Why should I not see through the opening? The nail cries out, the wound cries out, that truly God is in Christ reconciling the world to himself. The iron pierced through his soul, and drew near to his heart, so that he might now know how to have compassion on my weaknesses. The secret of the heart lies open through the openings of the body; that great mystery of godliness lies open, the bowels of the mercy of our God lie open, in which the Rising Sun from on high has visited us. Why should not the bowels lie open through the wounds? For in what would it have shone forth more clearly than in your wounds, that you, O Lord, are sweet and gentle, and of great mercy? For no one has greater compassion than that one should lay down his life for those condemned to death and damnation.

My merit, therefore, is the compassion of the Lord. I am surely not lacking in merit, so long as he is not lacking in compassion. If the mercies of the Lord are many, I likewise am great in merits. What if I am conscious to myself of many transgressions? For surely where sin abounded, grace superabounded also (Rom 5:20). And if the mercies of the Lord are from eternity and unto eternity (Ps 102:17), I too will sing the mercies of the Lord forever (Ps 88:2). Shall I sing my own righteousness? "O Lord, I will remember your righteousness alone" (Ps 70:16). For it is also mine; for you have been made for me righteousness from God. Should I fear that one will not suffice for both? It is not a short cloak, which, according to the prophet, cannot cover two (Is 28:20). "Your righteousness is righteousness forever" (Ps 118:142). What is longer than eternity? It will cover both you and me generously, this generous and eternal righteousness. And in me indeed it covers a multitude of sins; but in you, O Lord, what but treasures of loving-kindness, riches of goodness? These are stored up for me in the clefts of the rock. "How great is the multitude of your sweetness" in them, hidden indeed, but from those who perish! For why should what is holy be given to dogs, or pearls to swine? But to us God has revealed them through his Spirit, and has even introduced us through the opened clefts into the holy places. How great in these is the multitude of sweetness, the fullness of grace, the perfection of virtues!

I will go for myself to those storerooms so filled, and at the admonition of the prophet I will leave the cities and dwell in the rock (Jer 48:28). I will be as a dove nesting at the very mouth of the opening, so that, like Moses placed in the cleft of the rock, with the Lord passing by, I may deserve at least to behold his back (Ex 33:22-23). For the face of him who stands, that is, the brightness of the Unchangeable, who may see, except one who has already merited to be introduced, not into the holy places, but into the holy of holies? Yet the contemplation of his back is neither worthless nor to be despised. Let Herod despise it; I all the more do not despise it, the more contemptible he showed himself to Herod. Even the back of the Lord has something that it delights one to see. "Who knows if he may turn and forgive, and God may leave behind him a blessing?" There will come a time when he will show his face, and we shall be saved. But in the meantime let him go before us with blessings of sweetness, those indeed which he is accustomed to leave behind himself. Now let him show the back of his condescension; at another time he will show his face in the glory of his majesty. He is sublime in his kingdom, but sweet on the cross. Let him go before me with this vision, and with that let him fulfill me. "You will fill me," he says, "with joy before your face" (Ps 15:11). Both visions are salutary, both are sweet; but the former is in sublimity, the latter in humility; the former is in splendor, the latter is in pallor.

Finally he says: "And the back parts of his back in the pallor of gold" (Ps 67:14). How should he not grow pale in death? But gold that is pale is better than gleaming brass, and "the foolishness of God is wiser than men." Gold is the Word, gold is Wisdom. This gold discolored itself, hiding the form of God and displaying the form of a servant. It discolored also the Church, who says: "Do not consider me because I am dark, for the sun has discolored me" (Song 1:5). Therefore her back parts also are in the pallor of gold, she who did not blush at the darkness of the cross, was not horrified by the burning of the passion, did not flee from the bruising of wounds. Indeed she takes pleasure in these things, and desires her own end to be like unto them. For this reason she hears: "My dove in the clefts of the rock," because she occupies herself in the wounds of Christ with total devotion, and dwells upon them in continual meditation. From this comes the endurance of martyrdom, from this her great confidence before God most high. The martyr has no cause to fear lifting up to him a bloodless and bruised face, by whose bruise he has been healed, to present a glorious likeness of his death, indeed in the pallor of gold. What should he fear, to whom even the Lord says: "Show me your face"? For what purpose? As it seems to me, he wishes rather to show himself. So it is: he wishes to be seen, not to see. For what does he not see? There is no need for anyone to show himself to him by whom nothing is unseen, not even if one should hide himself. Therefore the gracious commander wishes to be seen, wishes that the devoted soldier lift up his face and eyes to his own wounds, so that he may thereby raise up his spirit, and by his own example render him stronger for endurance.

For indeed he will not feel his own wounds while he gazes upon those of his Lord. The martyr stands exulting and triumphing, though his whole body is torn; and as the iron probes his sides, not only bravely but even eagerly he watches the sacred blood bubbling forth from his flesh. Where then is the soul of the martyr? Surely in safety, surely in the rock, surely in the bowels of Jesus, in the wounds that lie open for entering. If he were in his own bowels, the iron searching them would surely be felt; he would not bear the pain, he would succumb and deny. But now, dwelling in the rock, what wonder if he has hardened after the manner of rock? But neither is this a wonder, if one exiled from the body does not feel the pains of the body. Nor does insensibility produce this, but love. For sensation is suppressed, not destroyed. Nor is pain absent, but it is overcome, it is despised. Therefore from the rock comes the fortitude of the martyr, from there he is certainly able to drink the cup of the Lord. "And this cup that inebriates, how splendid it is!" (Ps 22:5). Splendid, I say, and joyful no less to the commander watching than to the soldier triumphing. "For the joy of the Lord is our strength" (Neh 8:10). Why should he not rejoice at the voice of the most brave confession? Indeed he seeks it with desire: "Let your voice sound," he says, "in my ears." Nor will he delay to repay in turn according to his promise: as soon as one has confessed him before men, he himself also will confess him before his Father (Mt 10:32).

"My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hollows of the wall" (Song 2:14). Not only in the clefts of the rock does the dove find a safe refuge; she finds it also in the hollows of the wall. But if by the wall we understand not a heap of stones, but the communion of saints, let us see whether perhaps he has called the hollows of the wall the places, as it were left empty, of the angels who fell through pride: inasmuch as these are to be filled up from among men, as ruins to be repaired from living stones. Whence the apostle Peter says: "Coming to the living stone, you also as living stones are being built up into spiritual houses" (1 Pet 2:4-5). Nor do I think it beside the point, if we understand the guardianship of the angels to serve in the place of a wall in the vineyard of the Lord, which is the Church of the predestined, since Paul says: "Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth for service on behalf of those who are to inherit salvation?" (Heb 1:14), and the Prophet: "The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him" (Ps 33:8). And if this is agreeable, the sense will be that two things console the Church in the time and place of her pilgrimage: from the past indeed, the memory of the passion of Christ; and from the future, that she thinks and trusts she will be received into the lot of the saints. Both of these, as if having eyes before and behind, she gazes upon with insatiable desire; and each view is exceedingly welcome to her, each is a refuge for her from the tribulation of evils and sorrow. Full is the consolation, when she knows not only what is to be hoped for, but also on what ground this may be presumed. A joyful and not uncertain expectation, which has been confirmed by the death of Christ. Why should she tremble at the greatness of the reward, when she considers the worth of the price? How gladly does she visit in mind the clefts through which the price of the most sacred blood flowed for her! How gladly does she traverse the hollows and lodgings and mansions which are many and diverse in the house of the Father, in which she may place her children according to the diversity of the merits of each! And now indeed, since this alone is possible for the present, she rests in these by memory alone, already putting on in her mind the heavenly habitation which is from above. But there will come a time when she will fill up the ruins, when she will inhabit the hollows both in body and in mind; when the empty dwellings which the ancient inhabitants abandoned she will illuminate by the presence of her whole company, nor will any hollow appear any longer at all in the heavenly wall, thenceforth rejoicing in its happy perfection and integrity.

Or, if you prefer this more, we shall say that these hollows are not found by studious and pious minds, but made. In what way, you ask? By thought and ardent desire. For the pious wall yields to the desire of the soul, as a softer wall would yield; it yields to pure contemplation, it yields to frequent prayer. Indeed "the prayer of the righteous penetrates the heavens" (Ecclus 35:21). It will not, to be sure, cut through the spacious heights of this corporeal air, as if by some rowing of its wings like a flying bird, nor will it pierce through the solid and lofty summit of the firmament itself like a sharp sword: but there are heavens that are holy, living, rational, who "declare the glory of God," who with a certain favorable piety willingly incline themselves to our prayers, and with their affections curved at the touch of our devotion receive us into their inmost depths, whenever we knock upon them with a worthy intention. For "to him who knocks it will be opened." It will be permitted therefore to each one of us, even in this time of our mortality, to hollow out for ourselves, in whatever part we wish, hollows in the supernal wall; now indeed to revisit the patriarchs, now truly to greet the prophets, now to mingle with the senate of the apostles, now to be inserted into the choirs of the martyrs; but also to traverse and survey with the entire alacrity of the mind the stations and mansions of the blessed virtues, from the least angel even to the cherubim and seraphim, as each one's devotion may carry him. With whichever ones he will be more moved, the Spirit sending itself into him as it wills; if he has stood and knocked, immediately it will be opened to him, and a hollow having been made, as it were, in the mountains, or rather in the holy minds, since they freely bend themselves to piety, he will rest even a little while among them. The face and voice of every soul that acts thus is pleasing to God: the face, on account of its purity; the voice, on account of its confession. For "confession and beauty are before him" (Ps 95:6). Whence it is also said to the one who is of this kind: "Show me your face, let your voice sound in your ears." The voice is wonder in the mind of the one contemplating, the voice is the giving of thanks. God is exceedingly delighted by hollows of this kind, from which the voice of the giving of thanks resounds to him, the voice of wonder and praise.

Happy is the mind that has striven to hollow frequently for itself in this wall; but happier the one that has done so in the rock. It is indeed permitted to hollow also in the rock; but for this a purer edge of the mind is needed, and an altogether more vehement intention, and also superior merits of holiness. And for these things, who is fit? Surely he who said: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God: this was in the beginning with God" (Jn 1:1-2). Does he not seem to you to have immersed himself in the very inmost recesses of the Word, and to have drawn out from the hidden depths of his breast a certain most sacred marrow of interior wisdom? What of him who spoke wisdom among the perfect, wisdom hidden in a mystery, which none of the princes of this world knew? (1 Cor 2:6, 8). Did he not, with one heaven and then another pierced by his keen but pious curiosity, bring forth this at last from the third, a pious searcher? But he did not keep it silent from us, faithfully making it known in whatever words he could to the faithful. Yet he heard "unspeakable words, which it was not permitted for him to speak" (2 Cor 12:2, 4). Not indeed to any man, for he spoke those things to himself and to God. Suppose therefore that God consoles the anxious charity of Paul in this manner, and says: Why are you troubled that what you have conceived cannot be grasped by human hearing? Let your voice sound in my ears; that is: If what you feel is not permitted to be revealed to mortals, take comfort nevertheless, that your voice is able to soothe the divine ears. You see the holy soul, now indeed sober for us by charity, now truly exceeding to God by purity? (2 Cor 5:13). See also concerning holy David, whether perhaps he himself is the very man of whom he speaks with God, as if about another: "For the thought of man shall confess to you, and the remnants of thought shall keep festival to you" (Ps 75:11). Therefore whatever of prophetic thought could come forth publicly by the word and example of the Prophet, the Prophet immediately released into public confession, and from it he confessed to the Lord among the peoples, keeping the remainder for himself and God, and together with him spending it festively in joy and exultation. This, then, is what he wished to make known to us by the aforementioned verse. Whatever, that is, he was able to draw out from the secret place of wisdom by his searching and eager thought, the part that he could he imparted for the salvation of the peoples by zealous preaching; the remainder that the common people could not grasp, he spent in festive jubilation in the praises of God. You see that nothing is lost to holy contemplation, since what cannot be spent for the edification of the people is, on that very account, a most pleasing and fitting praise to God.

Since these things are so, it is clear that there are two kinds of contemplation: one, concerning the state and happiness and glory of the heavenly city, with what activity or rest that great multitude of heavenly citizens may be occupied; the other, concerning the majesty, eternity, and divinity of the King himself. The former is in the wall, the latter is in the rock. But the latter, the more difficult it is to hollow, the more sweetly does what you draw out from it taste. Nor should you fear that which Scripture threatens against searchers of majesty (Prov 25:27). Only bring a pure and simple eye; you will not be oppressed by glory, but admitted to it, unless you have sought not God's glory but your own. Otherwise each person is oppressed by his own glory, not God's, while inclined toward the former, he is not permitted to lift his neck to the latter, weighed down as it is by desire. With this cast off, let us securely search in the Rock, in which "are hidden treasures of wisdom and knowledge" (Col 2:3). If you still doubt, hear the Rock itself: "Those who work in me," it says, "will not sin" (Ecclus 24:30). "Who will give me wings like a dove, and I will fly, and I will rest?" (Ps 54:7). There the gentle and simple one finds rest, where the deceitful, or the proud, and the one desirous of vain glory is oppressed. The Church is a dove, and therefore she rests. A dove, because she is innocent, because she groans. A dove, I say, because "in meekness she receives the implanted word". And she rests in the Word, that is in the rock: for the rock is the Word. The Church therefore is in the clefts of the rock, through which she peers in and sees the glory of her Bridegroom; nor is she oppressed by the glory, because she does not usurp it for herself. She is not oppressed, because she is not a searcher of majesty, but of the will. For as regards majesty, sometimes indeed she dares to gaze even upon it, but as if wondering, not as if searching. But even if it should happen at some time that she is carried away into it by an ecstasy, this is the finger of God, graciously lifting up the human person, not the temerity of a human person insolently invading the heights of God. For since the Apostle recalls that he was "caught up" (2 Cor 12), so as to excuse his boldness, what other mortal would presume to entangle himself in this dread scrutiny of the divine majesty by his own efforts, and as an importunate contemplator burst into the awesome mysteries? Searchers of majesty, therefore, I consider to be called intruders, that is, not those who are caught up into it, but those who burst in. They themselves therefore are oppressed by glory.

Therefore the searching of majesty is fearsome: but that of the will is as safe as it is pious. Why should I not press on with all diligence in searching the mystery of the glory of the will, which I know I must obey in all things? Sweet is the glory that proceeds from nothing else than the contemplation of his very sweetness, than from the beholding of the riches of goodness and of great compassion. Indeed "we have seen this glory, the glory as of the Only-begotten from the Father" (Jn 1:14). For all that appeared of glory in this regard was entirely benign and truly paternal. That glory will not oppress me, even if I strain toward it with all my strength: I rather will be imprinted upon it. For "with unveiled face beholding as in a mirror, we are transformed into the same image from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the Lord" (2 Cor 3:18). We are transformed when we are conformed. But far be it that conformity to God by man should be presumed in the glory of majesty, and not rather in the modesty of the will! This shall be my glory, if ever I should hear concerning myself: "I have found a man after my own heart." The heart of the Bridegroom, the heart of his Father. What is it like? "Be merciful," he says, "just as your Father also is merciful" (Lk 6:36). This is the form which he desires to see, when he says to the Church: "Show me your face": the form of piety and meekness. This face she lifts up with all confidence to the Rock, to which she is like: "Come to him," he says, "and be enlightened, and your faces shall not be confounded" (Ps 33:6). In what way will the humble be confounded by the humble, the holy by the pious, and the modest by the meek? Surely the pure face of the bride will not be abhorrent to the purity of the rock, no more than virtue to virtue, or light to light.

But since the Church cannot yet for the present approach the rock for hollowing in every respect (for it does not belong to all who are in the Church to inspect the mysteries of the divine will, or to apprehend by themselves the deep things of God), therefore she is shown to dwell not only in the clefts of the rock, but also in the hollows of the wall. Therefore in the perfect indeed, who dare to search out and penetrate the secrets of wisdom by purity of conscience, and are able to do so by keenness of understanding, she dwells in the clefts of the rock. For the rest, in the hollows of the wall: so that those who either are not able or do not presume to dig in the rock by themselves, may dig in the wall, being content to behold even the glory of the saints in their mind. If for anyone not even this is possible, for him indeed Jesus will be set forth, and him crucified: so that even he, without labor of his own, may dwell in the clefts of the rock, in which he himself did not labor. The Jews labored in these, and he himself shall enter into the labors of the faithless, so as to be faithful. Nor should it be feared that he will suffer rejection, who is even called to enter. "Enter into the rock," he says, "hide yourself in the pit of the ground from the face of the fear of the Lord, and from the glory of his majesty" (Is 2:10). To the soul that is still weak and sluggish (which, as a certain man in the Gospel confesses of himself, "is not able to dig, and is ashamed to beg") (Lk 16:3), a pit of the ground is shown where it may hide, until it grows strong and advances, so that it too may be able by itself to hollow out for itself clefts in the rock, through which it may enter into the interior things of the Word, assuredly by vigor and purity of mind.

And if we have understood the pit of the ground to be that which says: "They have dug my hands and my feet" (Ps 21:17), there will be no doubt about the health to be more quickly obtained in it for the wounded soul that will abide in it. For what is so efficacious for healing the wounds of conscience, and also for purging the eye of the mind, as the diligent meditation on the wounds of Christ? But until it has been perfectly purged and healed, I do not see how that which is said can be applied to it: "Show me your face, let your voice sound in my ears." How indeed should it dare to show its face, or lift up its voice, when it is also told to hide? "Hide yourself," he says, "in the pit of the ground." Why? Because its face is not beautiful, nor worthy to be seen. It will not be worthy to be seen, so long as it is not fit to see. But when through the inhabiting of the pit of the ground it has made so much progress in healing the interior eye, that "with unveiled face" it too can "behold the glory of God"; then at last what it will see, it will speak with confidence, pleasing in voice and face. The face must needs be pleasing, which is able to gaze upon the brightness of God. For it could not do this unless it were itself also bright and pure, having been transformed indeed into the same image of brightness which it beholds. Otherwise it would recoil from the very dissimilarity, repelled by the unaccustomed splendor. Therefore when, being pure, it has been able to behold the pure truth, then the Bridegroom will desire to see its face, and consequently also to hear its voice.

For how much the preaching of truth with purity of mind pleases him, he shows when he immediately adds: "For your voice is sweet." That indeed the voice does not please if the face displeases, he demonstrates when he forthwith adds: "And your face is beautiful." What is the beauty of the interior face, if not purity? In many, this has been pleasing without the voice of preaching; the latter without the former, in no one. Truth does not show itself, Wisdom does not entrust itself, to the impure. What therefore do they speak, who have not seen it? "What we know," he says, "we speak, and what we have seen we testify" (Jn 3:11). Go then, you, and dare to testify what you have not seen, and to speak what you do not know. You ask whom I call impure? He who seeks human praises, who does not provide the Gospel without charge, who preaches in order to eat, who considers piety to be gain, who does not seek the fruit, but the gift. Such persons are impure; and while they do not have the means to see the truth on account of their impurity, they do have the means to speak it. Why do you act so hastily? Why do you not wait for the light? Why do you presume upon the work of light before the light? "It is vain for you to rise before the light." The light is purity, the light is charity, "which does not seek the things that are its own" (1 Cor 13:5). Let this go before, and the foot of the tongue is not placed on uncertain ground. By the proud eye the truth is not seen; to the sincere eye it lies open. There is no reason for the truth to deny itself to be seen by the pure heart, and therefore neither to be spoken. But to the sinner God says: "Why do you declare my statutes, and take my covenant upon your mouth?" (Ps 49:16). Many, having neglected purity, have tried to speak before they could see; and they have either erred gravely, not knowing the things of which they spoke, nor the things which they affirmed; or they have sunk into disgrace shamefully, since those who would teach others had not taught themselves. From this twofold evil may the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is over all things God blessed forever, ever guard us, entreated by you. Amen.

The rock is Christ. He is a wall and a shelter to us who believe and a perfect guardian, which is denoted by the wall. When you arrive, he says, you will be protected with every defense.

"Because your voice is sweet." And who would not profess that voice of the catholic church confessing the true faith is sweet, but the voice of the heretics is rough and unpleasant, which does not speak the teachings of truth but blasphemies against God and iniquity against the Most High? Thus also the appearance of the church is comely, but that of the heretics is ugly and foul—that is, if there is someone who knows how to test the beauty of the face, that is, if there is some spiritual person who knows how to examine all things. For among the unskilled and unregenerate people the sophistries of the lie seem more beautiful than the teachings of the truth.

By the holes of the rock, moreover, I would gladly understand the wounds of the hands and feet of Christ hanging on the cross. And the cavity of the wall I would interpret in the same sense as the wound in his side made by the lance. And rightly is the dove said to be in the holes of the rock and in the cavity of the wall, because while it imitates the patience of Christ in the remembrance of the cross, while it recalls those very wounds to memory for the sake of example, just as a dove in the holes of a rock, so the simple soul finds in the wounds the nourishment by which it grows strong. Nevertheless, by the holes of the rock can be signified the mysteries of Christ's incarnation, and by the cavity of the wall can be figured the very protection of angelic guardianship.

For what do we understand by the face, except the faith by which we are known by God? And what do we understand by the voice, except preaching? But the bridegroom commands the bride to show him her face, because whoever says he has faith must necessarily exercise himself in good works, so that through outward works the interior faith may become known. But it is also necessary that the voice of preaching follow the works, because whoever expands himself in holy works, it follows that he should exhort all his neighbors to do the same. Therefore it follows: 'For your voice is sweet, and your face is beautiful.' For the voice pleases and the face is made beautiful when preaching accompanies works, and in turn good works accompany preaching.

These are they concerning whom the Lord declared His mind with bitterness and severity, saying that "they are false Christs and false teachers;" who have blasphemed the Spirit of grace, and done despite to the gift they had from Him after the grace of baptism, "to whom forgiveness shall not be granted, neither in this world nor in that which is to come;" who are both more wicked than the Jews and more atheistical than the Gentiles; who blaspheme the God over all, and tread under foot His Son, and do despite to the doctrine of the Spirit; who deny the words of God, or pretend hypocritically to receive them, to the affronting of God, and the deceiving of those that come among them; who abuse the Holy Scriptures, and as for righteousness, they do not so much as know what it is; who spoil the Church of God, as the "little foxes do the vineyard;" whom we exhort you to avoid, lest you lay traps for your own souls. "For he that walketh with wise men shall be wise, but he that walketh with the foolish shall be known."

What does "catch" mean? [This means to] come to grips with them, convince, refute them, so that the vineyards of the church may not be spoiled. What else is catching foxes, but overcoming heretics with the authority of the divine law, and so to say binding and tying them up with the cords provided by the testimonies of the Holy Scriptures? [Samson] catches foxes, ties their tails together and attaches firebrands. What's the meaning of the foxes' tails tied together? What can the foxes' tails be but the backsides of the heretics, whose fronts are smooth and deceptive, their backsides bound, that is condemned, and dragging fire behind them, to consume the crops and works of those who yield to their seductions?

This animal, which is very shrewd with respect to deceit and craftiness, represents the Jews, Gentiles and heretics, who are always plotting against the church of God, and, as it were, continuously making a racket with their babbling voices. Concerning them the command is given to the guardians of the church: "Catch for us the tiny foxes which are wrecking the vineyards."

Catch for us the little foxes, etc. Indeed, the foxes that destroy the vineyards are heretics and schismatics, who with the teeth of perverse doctrine are accustomed to tear apart the flourishing vineyards of Christ, that is, the unripe minds of the faithful. If only we did not know how much they tend to damage them! Therefore Christ commanded His bride, with her maidens, whom He usually calls the daughters of Jerusalem, that is, with preachers exalted in holy humility, busily in pious labor to catch the little foxes, that is, as soon as they begin to discern and challenge the tricks of the fraudulent; lest, having grown larger over time, they are driven away from harming His spiritual vineyards with that much more difficulty, as they have already accustomed to graze longer; and beautifully, He who had first spoken of the vineyards in the plural, again used the singular number. For "our vineyard has blossomed"; thus indeed, He calls many vineyards one vineyard, just as He wished to call many churches throughout the world one Church for Himself. For He said the vineyards have blossomed, to show widely germinating populations of the chosen; and rightly, where He admonished to catch the foxes, there soon marked the singular appellation vineyard, to teach that for this reason above all, heretics should be pursued and crushed, lest the infestation tear apart and scatter into parts the faith of the Church, which ought to be one. Moreover, the nature of foxes aptly aligns with the manners and words of heretics, because they are indeed very deceitful animals, which hide in holes or caves, and when they appear, they never run in straight paths, but in winding turns. How these fit with the deceit and fraud of heretics, anyone can easily understand. It should not be overlooked that He did not say, "Catch for yourselves," when speaking to the children of the Church, or "Your vineyard has blossomed"; but, "Catch for us the little foxes, for our vineyard has blossomed"; so that He might more strongly incite all, who could, to conquer or correct the wickedness of heretics or bad Catholics, showing that they serve Him in this endeavor, and to demonstrate Himself as the defender of the vineyard, which is the rewarder of pious labors. Rightly, therefore, His beloved friend and bride responds immediately with the simplicity of a dove's heart:

"Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vineyards: for our vineyard has flourished" (Song 2:15). It is clear that the visit to the vineyards was not made in vain, since foxes were found there destroying them. This indeed is according to the letter. But what does the Spirit say? Before all things, certainly, let us thoroughly reject from this explanation the common and customary sense of the letter, as being inept and tasteless, and plainly unworthy to be received in Scripture so holy, so authoritative. Unless perhaps someone is so senseless and dull of mind that he considers it a great thing to have learned from it, after the manner of the children of this age, to take care of earthly possessions, to guard and defend vineyards from the incursions of beasts, lest perchance the fruit of wine, in which is excess, should happen to be lost; and at the same time the labor and expense should perish. A great loss indeed, that we should therefore read the holy book with such zeal and such great veneration, because we are taught in it to guard vineyards from foxes, lest in cultivating them our purses be emptied in vain, if we have been lazy in guarding them! You are not so unlearned, nor so devoid of spiritual grace, as to think so carnally. Therefore let us seek these things in the spirit. There indeed we find, with a sound understanding and a sense no less worthy, both flourishing vineyards and destroying foxes, in capturing or removing which we labor both more honorably and more fruitfully. Or do you doubt that we must attend far more vigilantly to keeping our minds than to keeping our crops; that we must watch far more carefully against spiritual wickednesses on account of the former, than against cunning little foxes on account of the latter?

But now these spiritual vines, as well as foxes, must be shown by me. It will be your concern, sons, for each one to look after his own vineyard, when from my discussion he shall have perceived in what things and from what things he must especially be on guard. To the wise man his own life is a vineyard, his own mind, his own conscience. For a wise man will leave nothing in himself uncultivated or deserted. Not so the fool. You will find everything neglected in him, everything lying prostrate, everything uncultivated and squalid. There is no vineyard for the fool. How can there be a vineyard, where nothing planted, nothing worked upon anywhere is to be seen? The whole life of the fool grows wild with thorns and thistles: and is it a vineyard? Even if it was one, it is no longer, having been reduced indeed to a wasteland. Where is the vine of virtue? Where is the cluster of good work? Where is the wine of spiritual joy? "I passed by the field of the lazy man," he says, "and by the vineyard of the foolish man: and behold, nettles had filled the whole of it, and thorns had covered its surface, and the stone wall was broken down" (Prov 24:30-31). You hear the wise man mocking the fool, because the goods of nature and the gifts of grace, which he had perhaps received through the washing of regeneration, as though that first vineyard of his, which God and not man had planted, he reduced by negligence into a non-vineyard. Finally, there cannot be a vineyard where there is no life. For that the fool lives, I would judge to be death rather than life. How can there be life with barrenness? A tree that is dry and turned to barrenness, is it not judged to be dead? And dead branches they are. "And he killed," it says, "their vines with hail" (Ps 78:47); showing that those which were condemned to barrenness were deprived of life. So the fool, by the very fact that he lives uselessly, is living yet dead.

To the wise man alone, therefore, does it belong to have, or rather to be, a vineyard, who has life. He is a fruit-bearing tree in the house of God, and therefore a living tree. Since indeed wisdom itself, by which he is called and is wise, is a tree of life to those who lay hold of her (Prov 3:18). Why should not he who lays hold of her live? He lives, but by faith. For the wise man is certainly just, and the just lives by faith (Heb 10:38). And if the soul of the just is the seat of wisdom, as it is; then assuredly he is wise who is just. He therefore, whether you call him just or wise, will never live without a vineyard, because he will never not live. For the vineyard is the same to him as life. And good is the vineyard of the just man, indeed good is the vineyard that the just man is, for whom virtue is the vine, action is the branch, wine is the testimony of conscience, and the tongue is the press of expression. Finally: "Our glory is this," he says, "the testimony of our conscience" (2 Cor 1:12). Do you see that nothing is idle in the wise man? Speech, thought, conduct, and whatever else comes from him, why is not the whole of it God's agriculture, God's building, and the vineyard of the Lord of hosts? What indeed can perish of his own, when even his leaf shall not fall away?

But for such a vineyard, infestations and ambushes will never be wanting. For where there are many riches, many also are those who consume them (Eccl 5:10). The wise man will be solicitous to guard his vineyard no less than to cultivate it, and will not allow it to be devoured by foxes. A most wicked fox is the secret detractor, but no less wicked is the smooth flatterer. The wise man will beware of these. He will take pains, indeed as much as is in him, to catch those who do such things; but to catch them with benefits and services, with salutary admonitions, and with prayers to God on their behalf. He will not cease to heap such coals of fire upon the head of the slanderer (Rom 12:20), and likewise upon the head of the flatterer, until, if it can be done, he removes envy from the heart of the one and pretense from the heart of the other, carrying out the command of the Bridegroom who says: "Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vineyards." Does not that man seem to you to be caught, who, his face suffused with blushes, blushing indeed at his own judgment, is himself the witness of his own confusion and repentance; either because he hated a man most worthy of love, or because he loved only in word and tongue the one by whom he has discovered, even if late, that he is loved in deed and in truth? Caught plainly, and caught for the Lord, according to what he himself expressly said: "Catch," he says, "for us." Would that I could so catch all who oppose me without cause, that I might either restore them or gain them for Christ! So, so let those who seek my soul be confounded and put to shame; let those who wish me evil be turned back and blush: so that I too may be found obedient to the Bridegroom, that I too may catch the foxes, not for myself, but for him. But let the discourse be turned back to its beginning, so that the sequence of the explanation may proceed in its order.

"Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vineyards." This is a moral passage; and according to the discipline of morals we have already shown that these spiritual vineyards are none other than spiritual men, whose whole interior is cultivated, and everything germinating, everything bearing fruit and bringing forth the spirit of salvation, just as it is said of the kingdom of God; so of these vineyards of the Lord of hosts we can equally say that they are within us (Lk 17:21). Finally, in the Gospel we read that the kingdom of God shall be given to a nation bringing forth its fruits (Mt 21:43). These are what Paul enumerates, saying: "But the fruit of the Spirit is charity, joy, peace, patience, long-suffering, goodness, kindness, meekness, faith, modesty, continence, chastity" (Gal 5:22-23). These fruits are our progress. These are acceptable to the Bridegroom, because he himself has care for us. Does God care about trees? It is men, not trees, that God-made-Man loves, and he reckons our progress as his own fruits. He diligently observes the time of these, he smiles upon them as they appear, and anxiously busies himself lest they perish to us, when they have appeared; or rather lest they perish to him: for he reckons himself as it were as us. And therefore, foreseeing, he commands that the foxes lying in ambush be caught for him, lest they snatch away the new fruits. "Catch," he says, "us the little foxes that destroy the vineyards." And as if someone should say: You fear prematurely, the time of fruits has not yet come: "It is not so," he says, "for our vineyard has flourished." After the flowers there is no delay of fruits; while the former are still falling, the latter burst forth at once, at once they begin to appear.

This parable is of the present time. Do you see these novices? They have come recently, they have been recently converted. We cannot say of them that our vineyard has flourished: for it is flourishing. Meanwhile, what you see appearing in them is a flower: the time of fruits has not yet arrived. The flower is their new conversion, the flower is the fresh form of an amended life. They have put on a disciplined countenance and a good composure of the whole body. I confess that the outward appearances are pleasing: a more negligent style of dress is what shows outwardly in their bodies and garments, speech is rarer, the face more cheerful, the look more modest, the gait more measured. But since these things have been recently begun, by their very newness they are to be reckoned as flowers, and hopes of fruits rather than fruits. For you, little children, we do not fear from the fraud of foxes, which are known to envy fruits rather than flowers. Your danger is from another quarter. I certainly fear burning for the flowers; not a stealing away, but a burning from the cold. The north wind is suspect to me, and the morning frosts, which are accustomed to destroy untimely flowers and to snatch away fruits before they come. Indeed from the north your evil is disclosed. "Before his cold, who shall stand?" (Ps 147:17). If this cold should once pervade the soul (and indeed, as is usual, the soul is heedless while the spirit sleeps), and if then, with no one checking it, which God forbid, it should reach its interior parts, should descend into the depths of the heart and the bosom of the mind, should shake the affections, should occupy the paths of counsel, should disturb the light of judgment, should bind the freedom of the spirit: then soon, as is accustomed to happen in the body of those who have fever, a certain rigidity of soul follows, and vigor grows slack, a languor of strength is feigned, horror of austerity is heightened, fear of poverty agitates, the spirit contracts, grace withdraws, the length of life stretches out before one, reason is lulled to sleep, the spirit is extinguished, the novice fervor cools, a tedious lukewarmness grows heavy, fraternal charity grows cold, pleasure flatters, false security deceives, old habit calls one back. What more? The law is ignored, justice is renounced, right is proscribed, the fear of the Lord is abandoned. Finally the hands are surrendered to shamelessness; that reckless, that shameful, that most disgraceful leap is presumed, full of ignominy and confusion, from the heights into the abyss, from the pavement into the dunghill, from the throne into the sewer, from heaven into the mire, from the cloister into the world, from paradise into hell. The beginning and origin of this plague, and by what skill it may be avoided or by what virtue it may be overcome, it is not the time to demonstrate now: that will be for another occasion; for now let us pursue what we have begun.

The discourse must be turned back to the more advanced and the stronger, to the vineyard that has already flourished, which indeed, even if it has nothing to fear for its flowers from the cold, yet its fruits are not safe from the foxes. It must be stated more openly what these foxes are spiritually, why they are called little, why they are commanded especially to be caught and not driven away or killed: also the diverse kinds of these beasts must be introduced for the greater knowledge and caution of the hearers; not indeed in this sermon, that we may take thought for weariness, and that the readiness of our devotion may be perpetuated in the grace and confession of the glory of the great Bridegroom of the Church, our Lord Jesus Christ, who is God over all things, blessed forever. Amen.

I am present to my promise. "Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vineyards: for our vineyard has flourished" (Song 2:15). Foxes are temptations. It is necessary that temptations come. For who will be crowned, unless he has competed lawfully? (2 Tim 2:5.) Or how will they compete, if there is no one to attack them? You therefore, coming to the service of God, stand in fear, and prepare your soul for temptation (Sir 2:1), certain that all who wish to live piously in Christ will suffer persecution (2 Tim 3:12). Moreover, temptations are diverse, according to the diversity of times. And indeed upon our beginnings, as upon the tender flowers of newly planted vines, the force of cold presses down openly, which we mentioned in the other sermon, and we made beginners cautious against this plague. But now against the holier pursuits of those who are advancing, the opposing powers indeed do not at all dare to set themselves openly, but are accustomed to lie in ambush in secret, like certain deceitful little foxes; in appearance indeed virtues, but in reality vices. How many, for example, who had entered the ways of life, who had progressed to better things, who were well and securely proceeding and advancing upon the paths of justice, have I found to have been shamefully supplanted by the fraud, O the shame! of these foxes, and to bewail too late the fruits of virtues suffocated within themselves!

I myself saw a man running well; and behold a thought: was it not a little fox? To how many, he says, could I share the good of which I alone enjoy, if I were in my homeland, with brothers and relatives, acquaintances and friends? They love me, and would easily consent to one persuading them. Why this waste? I shall go there, and save many of them, and myself likewise. Nor need I fear in a change of place. For so long as I do good, what does it matter where? except that there it is without doubt more profitable, where I may live more fruitfully. What more? He goes, and perishes, wretched man, not so much an exile returning to his homeland, as one having returned to the vomit of the flesh. And the unhappy man lost himself, and acquired none of his own. Behold one little fox, namely that deceptive hope which he had in the gaining of his own people. You too can by yourself find or notice in yourself other and yet other foxes similar to this one, if you are not negligent.

But do you wish me to show you yet one more? I will do it, and I will demonstrate a third and a fourth as well, if I find you vigilant to catch those which you may have noticed in your own vineyard from among these. Sometimes the soul of someone who is advancing well, when he has felt something of heavenly grace more lavishly sprinkled upon him, is seized by the desire of preaching, not indeed to parents and relatives, according to that word: "Immediately I did not acquiesce to flesh and blood" (Gal 1:16); but as if more purely, more fruitfully, and more strongly, indiscriminately to strangers and to all. Altogether cautiously! Indeed he fears to incur the prophetic curse, if the grain which he has received in secret he should hide among the peoples (Prov 11:26): and to act contrary to the Gospel, unless what he has heard in his ear he should preach upon the rooftops (Mt 10:27). It is a fox, and one more harmful than the former by as much as it comes more secretly. But I catch it for you. First Moses says: "You shall not plow with the firstborn of the ox" (Deut 15:19). Paul interpreting this says: "Not a neophyte, lest being puffed up with pride, he fall into the judgment of the devil" (1 Tim 3:6): and again, "Nor does anyone," he says, "take the honor to himself, but he who is called by God as Aaron" (Heb 5:4); likewise he himself says: "How shall they preach unless they are sent?" (Rom 10:15.) And we know that the duty of a monk is not to teach, but to mourn. From these and similar texts collected together I weave a net for myself, and I catch the fox, lest it destroy the vineyard. From these indeed it is clear and certain that to preach publicly neither befits a monk, nor is expedient for a novice, nor is permitted to one not sent. Moreover, to go against these three things, how great a destruction of conscience it is! Therefore whatever such thing is suggested to the soul, whether it be your own thought, or an immission through an evil angel, recognize a deceitful little fox, that is, an evil under the appearance of good.

But behold another. How many fervent in spirit has the solitude of the desert received from monasteries, and either vomited them out grown tepid, or held them contrary to the law of the desert, not only relaxed, but even dissolute? And so it appeared that a little fox had been present, where so great a devastation of the vineyard had occurred, that is, the detriment to the life and conscience of the man. He was thinking that if he lived alone, he would receive far more abundant fruits of the spirit, since he had experienced such great spiritual grace in the common life. And his thought seemed good to himself; but the outcome of the matter showed that the same thought had been for him rather a fox destroying the vineyard.

What of that which also disturbs us so often and so gravely in this house: I mean the conspicuous and superstitious abstinence of certain ones who are among us, by which they render themselves troublesome to all, and all troublesome to themselves? How is this very discord, so general, not a dissipation of one's own conscience, and, so far as is in his power, a destruction of this great vineyard which the right hand of the Lord has planted, namely the unanimity of you all? "Woe to the man through whom the scandal comes!" (Mt 18:7.) "Whoever shall scandalize one of these little ones" (Mk 9:42): what follows is harsh. How much harsher does he deserve, who scandalizes so great and so holy a multitude? Truly, he shall bear a most severe judgment, whoever he may be. But of these things at another time.

Now let us attend to those things which are said by the Bridegroom concerning these little and crafty animals that destroy the vineyards. I would say they are little, not in malice, but in subtlety. For this kind of animal is by nature crafty, and very ready to do harm in secret: and it seems to me to designate most fittingly certain most subtle vices concealed under the appearance of virtues, of which kind indeed I have already somewhat expressed the form through the examples set forth above for your knowledge, few though they be. For they cannot harm in any other way, except that they feign themselves virtues by a certain likeness to virtues. But they are either the vain thoughts of men, or immissions made through evil angels, angels of Satan, who transform themselves into angels of light (2 Cor 11:14), preparing their arrows in the quiver, that is, in secret, to shoot in the dark at the upright of heart (Ps 11:2). Whence also I think they are called little for this reason, that while other vices manifest themselves by a certain, so to speak, corpulence of their own, this kind, on account of its subtlety, can hardly be recognized, and therefore can hardly be guarded against, except only by the perfect and the trained, who have the eyes of their heart illumined for the discernment of good and evil, and especially for the discernment of spirits, who can say with the Apostle that "we are not ignorant of the devices of Satan, nor of his thoughts" (2 Cor 2:11). And see whether perhaps for this reason they are ordered by the Bridegroom not indeed to be exterminated, or driven away, or killed, but to be caught: because, namely, such spiritual and crafty little beasts ought to be observed and examined with all vigilance and caution, and so caught, that is, comprehended, in their own craftiness. Therefore, when the deceit is exposed, when the fraud is laid open, when the falsehood is convicted, then most rightly is it said that a little fox has been caught that was destroying the vineyard. Indeed, we say a man is caught in his speech, just as you have in the Gospel, that the Pharisees came together to catch Jesus in speech (Mt 22:15).

So then the Bridegroom commands the little foxes that destroy the vineyards to be caught, that is, to be detected, convicted, exposed. This kind of malice alone has this proper quality, that once recognized it no longer harms, so that to be recognized is for it to be vanquished. For who, unless he is mad, having discovered a trap, knowingly and deliberately puts his foot in it? It suffices therefore if those which are of this kind are caught, that is, if you expose them and bring them to the open; since for them to appear is to perish. It is not so with other vices. For they come openly, they harm openly; they captivate the knowing, they overcome the resisting, inasmuch as they act by force, not by deceit. Therefore against beasts of this kind that rage openly, there is need not of investigation, but of restraint. Only these little foxes, greatest dissemblers, because once exposed they no longer harm, it suffices to bring them into the light and to catch them in their cunning. For they have dens. For such a reason, therefore, these foxes are both commanded to be caught and described as little. Or they are called little so that, watching vigilantly for vices arising in their very beginning while they are still little, you may immediately apprehend them, lest growing they harm more and be caught with greater difficulty.

And if according to the allegory we understand the vineyards as Churches, the foxes as heresies, or rather the heretics themselves: the meaning is simple, that heretics should rather be caught than driven away. Let them be caught, I say, not by arms, but by arguments, by which their errors may be refuted; and they themselves, if it can be done, let them be reconciled to the Catholic Church, let them be called back to the true faith. For this is the will of him who wills all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth (1 Tim 2:4). Indeed he declares that he wills this, who does not simply say "catch the foxes," but "catch," he says, "the foxes for us." Therefore he commands these foxes to be acquired for himself and his bride, that is, for the Catholic Church, when he says, "Catch them for us." And so a man of the Church, experienced and learned, if he undertakes to dispute with a heretical man, ought to direct his intention to this, that he may so convince the one who errs that he also converts him, considering that word of the Apostle James: "That he who has caused a sinner to be converted from the error of his way, will save his soul from death, and will cover a multitude of sins" (Jas 5:20). But if he will not wish to return, even having been convicted after a first and now a second admonition, inasmuch as he is utterly perverted, he must according to the Apostle be avoided (Tit 3:10). From this point on it is better, as indeed I judge, that he be driven away, or even bound, than that he be permitted to destroy the vineyards.

Nor on that account should the one who has defeated and convicted a heretic, who has confuted heresies, who has clearly and openly distinguished the plausible from the true, who has shown by plain and irrefutable reasoning that depraved doctrines are depraved, who has finally brought into captivity the depraved understanding that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, think that he has accomplished nothing. For he has nonetheless caught the fox, he who has worked such things, even if not for the heretic's salvation; and he has caught it for the Bridegroom and the bride, albeit in another way. For even if the heretic has not risen from the dregs, the Church is nonetheless confirmed in the faith: and indeed the Bridegroom without doubt rejoices at the progress of the bride. For "the joy of the Lord is our strength" (Neh 8:10). Indeed he does not consider our gains as foreign to himself, he who so graciously associates himself with us, when he commands the foxes to be caught, not for himself, but for us together with himself. "Catch," he says, "for us." For one may observe that he says "for us." What is more companionable than this word? Does he not seem to you to speak thus, like a certain head of a household, who has nothing of his own, but all things in common with his wife and children and household members? And he who speaks is God -- yet he speaks this not at all as God, but as the Bridegroom.

"Catch us the foxes." You see how companionably he speaks, who has no companion? He could have said: "For me," but he preferred "for us," delighting in partnership. O sweetness! O grace! O the force of love! Has the highest of all thus become one of all? Who has done this? Love, which knows not dignity, rich in condescension, powerful in affection, efficacious in persuasion. What is more violent? Love triumphs over God. Yet what is so non-violent? It is love. What is this force, I ask, so violent unto victory, so conquered unto violence? Indeed "he emptied himself" (Phil 2:7), that you might know that it was love's doing that the fullness was poured out, that the height was made equal, that singularity was made companionable. With whom, O wondrous Bridegroom, have you so familiar a partnership? "For us," you say, "catch them." With whom do you share? Is it with the Church from the Gentiles? She has been gathered from mortals and sinners. We know what she is. But who are you, so devoted, so ardent a lover of this Ethiopian woman? Surely not another Moses, but more than Moses (Num 12:1). Are you not he who is "beautiful in form beyond the sons of men"? (Ps 45:2.) I have said too little; you are the brightness of eternal life, the splendor and the image of the substance of God (Heb 1:3); and finally, over all things, God blessed forever. Amen (Rom 9:5).

I have discussed two sermons for you on one chapter: I prepare a third, if you are not weary of hearing. And I think it necessary. For as regards our own domestic vineyard, which you are, I consider that in two sermons I have done enough to fortify it against the wiles of the threefold kind of foxes, who are flatterers, detractors, and certain seductive spirits, skilled and accustomed to introduce evils under the appearance of good. But not so for the Lord's vineyard. I speak of that one which has filled the earth, of which we too are a portion: a vineyard exceedingly great, planted by the hand of the Lord, redeemed by his blood, watered by his word, propagated by grace, made fruitful by the Spirit. Therefore, caring more for my own, I have profited less for the common good. But I am moved on behalf of it by the multitude of those who demolish it, the fewness of those who defend it, and the difficulty of the defense. The concealment creates the difficulty. For although the Church has always had foxes from its beginning, all were quickly discovered and caught. The heretic contended openly (for he was chiefly a heretic because he desired to conquer openly), and he was overcome. Thus those foxes were easily caught. For what did it matter if, when the truth was set in the light, the heretic, remaining in the darkness of his obstinacy, alone withered outside, bound fast? No less was the fox considered caught, when the impiety was condemned and the impious one was cast out, thenceforth to live for display, not for fruit. From this, according to the prophet, his were "breasts that are dry, and a barren womb" (Hos 9:14); because an error publicly refuted does not sprout again, and an exposed falsehood does not germinate.

What shall we do with these most malignant foxes, that they may be caught, who prefer to harm rather than to conquer, and do not even wish to appear, but to creep? All heretics have always had one single intention: to seize glory from the singularity of their knowledge. This one alone, more malignant and more cunning than the other heresies, feeds on the losses of others, neglectful of its own glory. Taught, I believe, by the examples of the ancients, which, once betrayed, were unable to escape but were immediately caught, it is careful to work the mystery of iniquity by a new kind of malice, all the more freely as it is more hidden. Finally, as it is said, they have appointed hiding places for themselves, they have strengthened for themselves an evil speech. Swear, forswear; do not betray the secret. Yet on other occasions they do not consent to swear even slightly at all, on account of that saying from the Gospel: "Do not swear, neither by heaven, nor by the earth" (Mt 5:34-35), etc. O foolish and slow of heart, plainly filled with the Pharisaic spirit, straining out a gnat and swallowing a camel! (Mt 23:24). It is not lawful to swear, and it is lawful to perjure? Or is it only in this one matter that both are lawful? From what passage of the Gospels do you produce for me this exception, you who, as you falsely boast, do not pass over even an iota? It is clear that you both superstitiously observe the rule about swearing, and shamefully presume upon perjury. O perversity! That which was counseled as a precaution, namely, not to swear, this they observe so contentiously as though it were a commandment: and that which was established by immovable law, namely, that one must not perjure, this they dispense as though indifferent, according to their own will. No, they say, but lest we make public the mystery. As if it were not the glory of God to reveal a word. Or do they begrudge God his glory? But I rather believe that they blush to disclose it, knowing it to be inglorious. For they are said to do unspeakable and obscene things in secret, since indeed the hind parts of foxes also stink.

But I pass over what they would deny: let them answer to what is manifest. Do they, according to the Gospel, take care not to give what is holy to dogs, and pearls to swine (Mt 7:6)? But to confess this openly is to admit that they are not of the Church, since they consider all who are of the Church to be dogs and swine. For without exception they hold that their thing, whatever it is, must be withheld from all who are not of their sect. However, even if they think this, they will not answer so, lest they become manifest, which is certainly what they flee by every means, but they will not escape. Answer me, O man, who are wiser than you ought to be, and more foolish than can be said. Is it, or is it not, a mystery of God that you conceal? If it is, why do you not make it known for his glory? For the glory of God is to reveal a word. If it is not, why do you have faith in that which is not of God, unless because you are a heretic? Either, therefore, let them disclose the secret of God for the glory of God; or let them deny that it is a mystery of God, and let them by no means deny that they are heretics; or certainly let them confess themselves to be nonetheless manifest enemies of the glory of God, they who do not wish that to be made manifest which they know will be to his glory. For the truth of Scripture stands firm: "It is the glory of kings to conceal a word, the glory of God to reveal a word" (Prov 25:2). You do not wish to reveal? Therefore you do not wish to glorify God. But perhaps you do not receive this Scripture. So it is: they profess themselves to be zealots of the Gospel alone, and the only ones. Let them answer, therefore, to the Gospel. "What I say to you in darkness, speak in the light; and what you hear in the ear, preach upon the housetops" (Mt 10:27). Now silence is no longer permitted. How long is that kept concealed which God commands to be made public? How long is your Gospel covered? I suspect; yours is not Paul's: for he confesses that his own is not covered. "Even if," he says, "my Gospel is covered, it is covered in those who perish" (2 Cor 4:3). See whether he was not speaking of you, among whom the Gospel is found to be covered. What is more evident than that you are perishing? Or perhaps you do not even receive Paul? Concerning some I have heard it is so. For not all among you agree on all things, even though you all dissent from us.

But truly the words, and writings, and traditions of those who were bodily with the Savior, all of you, unless I am mistaken, receive without distinction, with equal authority of the Gospel. Did they keep their Gospel covered? Did they keep silent about the weakness of the flesh, the horrors of death, the ignominy of the cross--all in God? Indeed, "their sound has gone out into all the earth" (Ps 19:4). Where is the apostolic form and life that you boast of? They cry out, you whisper; they in public, you in a corner; they "fly as clouds" (Is 60:8), you lurk in darkness and underground houses. What likeness to them do you show in yourselves? Is it that you do not exactly lead women about with you, but rather shut them in? The suspicion attaches not equally to companionship as to cohabitation. But who would suspect anything sinister about those who raised the dead? Do you likewise, and I will consider the woman reclining there to be a man. Otherwise you rashly usurp for yourself the dispensation of those whose sanctity you do not have. To be always with a woman and not to know a woman, is that not more than raising the dead? What is less you cannot do; and what is greater you wish me to believe of you? Daily your side is at the side of a young woman at table; your bed is next to her bed in the chamber; your eyes are upon her eyes in conversation; your hands are upon her hands in work: and you wish to be thought continent? Granted that you are: but I am not free from suspicion. You are a scandal to me: remove the cause of scandal, so that you may prove yourself a true zealot of the Gospel, as you boast. Does not the Gospel condemn the one who scandalizes even one of the Church? You scandalize the Church. You are a fox demolishing the vineyard. Help me, companions, that she may be caught; or rather, catch her for us, O holy angels. She is very cunning, covered with her wickedness and impiety. Plainly she is so small and subtle that she easily frustrates human eyes. Surely not yours as well? Therefore that voice is addressed to you, as friends of the Bridegroom: "Catch us the little foxes" (Song 2:15). Therefore do what you are commanded; catch for us this so crafty little fox, whom behold we have long pursued in vain. Teach and suggest how the fraud may be detected. For this is to have caught the fox; because a false catholic does far more harm than if a true heretic were to appear. But it is not for a man to know what is in a man, unless one has been either illumined by the Spirit of God for this very purpose, or informed by angelic effort. What sign will you give, so that this most wicked heresy may become manifest, which has learned to lie not only with the tongue, but with its life?

And indeed the recent devastation of the vineyard indicates that a fox has been present: but by I know not what art of pretense, this most cunning animal so confuses its tracks that by what way it either enters or exits can hardly be detected by a man. And while the work is evident, the author does not appear; so through those things which are on the surface, it disguises everything. Finally, if you inquire about its faith, nothing is more Christian; if about its conduct, nothing is more irreproachable: and what it speaks, it proves by deeds. You see a man, in testimony of his faith, frequenting the church, honoring the presbyters, offering his gift, making confession, sharing in the sacraments. What is more faithful? Now as regards his life and manners, he defrauds no one, overreaches no one, extorts from no one. Their faces moreover are pale with fasting, they do not eat bread in idleness, they work with their hands to sustain their life. Where now is the fox? We had hold of her: how has she slipped from our hands? How has she so suddenly disappeared? Let us press on, let us search: by her fruits we shall know her. And certainly the demolition of vineyards bears witness to a fox. Women, leaving their husbands, and likewise men, dismissing their wives, betake themselves to these people. Clerics and priests, having abandoned their people and their churches, are frequently found among them, unshaven and bearded, among weavers, both men and women. Is this not a grave demolition? Are not these the works of foxes?

But perhaps these things are not discovered so manifestly among all of them: and if they exist, there is no way to prove them. How shall we catch them? Let us return to their association and cohabitation with women, for there is no one among them who lacks this. I question some one of them. Ho there, good man! Who is this woman, and how is she yours? Is she your wife? No, he says, for that does not agree with my vow. Your daughter then? No. What then? Not a sister, not a niece, not anyone connected to you by any degree at least of kinship or affinity? None at all. And how is your continence safe with her? Indeed this is not even lawful for you. The Church forbids the cohabitation of men and women among those who have vowed continence, if you did not know. If you do not wish to scandalize the Church, cast out the woman. Otherwise, from this one thing the other things, which are not so manifest, without doubt become credible.

But from what passage of the Gospel, he says, do you show me that this is forbidden? You have appealed to the Gospel; to the Gospel you shall go. If you obey the Gospel, you will not cause scandal: for the Gospel plainly forbids scandal to be made. But you cause it, by not removing her according to the decree of the Church. You were suspect, but now you will be manifestly judged both a despiser of the Gospel and an adversary of the Church. What do you judge, brothers? If he is obstinate so that he neither obeys the Gospel nor acquiesces to the Church, what further evasion is possible? Does not the fraud seem to you to be openly detected and the fox caught? If he does not remove the woman, he does not remove the scandal; if he does not remove the scandal when he is able to remove it, he is held to be a transgressor of the Gospel. What is the Church to do, except remove him who does not wish to remove the scandal, lest she be like him, disobedient? For she has a commandment from the Gospel about this: not to spare the eye that scandalizes her, nor the hand, nor the foot; but to pluck it out, to cut them off, and to cast them from her. "If," it says, "he will not hear the Church, let him be to you as a heathen and a publican" (Mt 18:6-9, 17).

Have we accomplished anything? I think we have. We have caught the fox, because we have perceived the fraud. Manifest are those who lay hidden as false Catholics, true plunderers of the Catholic faith. For while with me you were taking sweet food (I mean the body and blood of Christ), while in the house of God we walked in agreement, there was a place for persuasion, indeed an opportunity for seduction, according to that saying of Wisdom: "The dissembler deceives his friend with his mouth" (Prov 11:9). But now easily, according to the wisdom of Paul, after a first and second admonition I will avoid a heretical man, knowing that such a one is subverted (Tit 3:10-11); and therefore cautious to take care lest he now become also a subverter. And so it is something, according to the word of the Wise Man, that "the wicked are caught in their own snares" (Prov 11:6), those wicked especially who are careful to use snares in place of arms. For open conflict and defense have utterly perished from among them. For this is a base and rustic sort, without letters, and altogether unwarlike. Finally, they are foxes, and small ones; but neither are those things in which they are said to think wrongly defensible; nor so subtle as they are persuasive, and that only to rustic and ignorant women, such as indeed all of them are, as many as I have yet found to be of this sect. Nor in all their assertions, for they are many, do I recall having heard anything new or unheard of, but what is well-worn and long debated among the ancient heretics, yet crushed and thoroughly winnowed by our own. Nevertheless it must be said, and I will say, what those absurdities are; partly what they themselves have confessed, answering less cautiously when Catholics questioned them; partly what, divided from one another and quarreling, they have revealed about each other; partly also what some of them, returning to the Church, have disclosed: not that I may respond to all of them, for that is not necessary, but only that they may become known. But that will be the work of another sermon, to the praise and glory of the name of the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is over all things God blessed forever. Amen.

"Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vineyards" (Song 2:15). Behold, I go after these foxes. They are the ones who pass beyond the way and who plunder the vineyard. They are not content to desert the way, unless they can also lay waste the vineyard, adding transgression. It is not enough for them to be heretics, unless they be also hypocrites, so that sin may be sinful beyond measure. These are they who come in sheep's clothing to strip the sheep bare and to despoil the rams. Does not each of these things seem to you to have been fulfilled, where both the people have been robbed of their faith and the priests of their people? Who are these robbers? They are sheep in garb, foxes in cunning, wolves in deed and in cruelty. These are they who wish to seem good, not to be so; who wish not to seem evil, but to be so. They are evil, and they wish to seem good, lest they be evil alone; they fear to seem evil, lest they be insufficiently evil. For malice openly practiced has always done less harm, and no good man was ever deceived except by the pretense of goodness. And so they strive to appear good, for the ruin of the good; they do not wish to appear evil, so that more license may be given to their malignity. For it is not their way to cultivate virtues, but to color over vices with a certain vermilion, as it were, of virtues. And so the impiety of superstition they entitle with the name of religion. Innocence they define as merely not harming openly, thereby claiming for themselves only the color of innocence. As a covering for their turpitude, they mark themselves with the vow of continence. Moreover, they consider turpitude to consist only in having wives: whereas the only case in which turpitude in intercourse is excused is that which is with a wife. They are rustic men and unlearned, and altogether contemptible: but there is no dealing negligently with them, I tell you. For they advance greatly unto impiety, and their speech spreads like a cancer (2 Tim 2:16-17).

And so the Holy Spirit did not neglect this, who once prophesied concerning them so manifestly, the Apostle saying: "Now the Spirit manifestly says that in the last times some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to spirits of error and to doctrines of demons, speaking lies in hypocrisy, having their conscience seared, forbidding to marry, commanding to abstain from foods which God created to be received with thanksgiving" (1 Tim 4:1-3). It was precisely these, precisely these he was speaking of. These forbid to marry, these abstain from foods which God created, concerning which we shall see afterward. But now see whether this is not properly a mockery of demons and not of men, according to what the Spirit had foretold. Inquire of them the author of their sect; they will give you none. What heresy has not had from among men its own heresiarch? The Manicheans had Mani as their founder and teacher, the Sabellians Sabellius, the Arians Arius, the Eunomians Eunomius, the Nestorians Nestorius. So all the other plagues of this kind are known to have had, each one, individual masters, men from whom they drew both their origin and their name. By what name or title will you designate these? By none; since their heresy is not from man, nor did they receive it through man. Far be it, however, that it should be through a revelation of Jesus Christ; rather and without doubt, as the Holy Spirit foretold, it is through the insinuation and fraud of demons, "speaking lies in hypocrisy, forbidding to marry!"

In hypocrisy plainly and with fox-like craftiness they speak this, feigning that they say it from love of chastity, which they have rather devised for the sake of fostering and multiplying turpitude. Yet the matter is so much in the open that I wonder how any Christian man could ever have been persuaded of it, except that these are either so bestial that they do not perceive how he who condemns marriage gives free rein to every uncleanness; or else so full of wickedness and swallowed up in diabolical malignity that, perceiving, they dissemble, and rejoice in the destruction of men. Take away from the Church honorable marriage and the undefiled bed (Heb 13:4); will you not fill her with fornicators, the incestuous, those who waste their seed, the effeminate, men who lie with men, and indeed every kind of unclean persons? Choose therefore whichever you will: either all these monstrosities of men are to be saved, or the number of those to be saved is to be reduced to the small number of the continent. How sparing in the one! How lavish in the other! Neither of these befits the Savior. What? Shall turpitude be crowned? Nothing less becomes the author of honor. Shall the whole world be damned except a few continent ones? This is not what it means to be a Savior. Continence is rare upon the earth, and not for so small a gain did that fullness empty itself to the earth. And how have we all received from that fullness, if he granted participation in himself to the continent alone? They have nothing they can answer to this. But neither, I believe, to the following. If there is a place in heaven for what is honorable, but there is no fellowship between the honorable and the base, just as there is no partnership of light with darkness: then assuredly no place of salvation awaits any of the unclean. If anyone thinks otherwise, the apostolic voice will refute him, asserting without all ambiguity: "For those who do such things shall not possess the kingdom of God" (Gal 5:21). By what way now will this treacherous little fox come out of her den? I think she has been caught in the pit in which she has made for herself, as it were, two openings: one by which to enter, another by which to exit. For she is accustomed to do so. See therefore how the exit is blocked for her on both sides. If she places only the continent in heaven, salvation perishes for the most part; if she places all filthiness together with the continent, what is honorable perishes. But more justly she herself perishes, who shall go out neither by this way nor by that, shut up in perpetuity and caught in the pit which she has made.

Certain ones, however, dissenting from the others, confess that marriage can be contracted only between virgins. But what reason they can offer in this distinction, I do not see: except that each one, according to his own pleasure, strives in competition with the others to tear apart the sacraments of the Church, as the mother's womb, with the tooth of a viper. For as to what they are said to allege concerning the first married couple, that they were virgins: how, I ask, does this prejudice the freedom of marriage, so that it should not be lawfully contracted also between non-virgins? But I know not what they whisper about having found in the Gospel, which they vainly suppose to support their foolishness. It is this, I believe: that the Lord, having first set forth the testimony from Genesis, "And God created man in his own image and likeness; male and female he created them," afterward added: "Therefore what God has joined together, let not man put asunder" (Gen 1:27; Mt 19:4, 6). These, they say, God joined together because both were virgins, and thereafter it was not permitted to be separated: but a coupling presumed otherwise will not be from God. Who told you they were joined by God on account of the fact that they were virgins? For Scripture does not say this. Were they not virgins? one asks. They were; but it is not the same thing, to have been coupled as virgins and to have been coupled because they were virgins. Although not even this will you find stated by name, that they were virgins, even though they were. What was expressly stated was the diversity of sexes, not virginity, when it was said: "Male and female he created them." And rightly so. For the marital coupling of bodies does not require integrity, but the aptitude of sexes. Well therefore did the Holy Spirit, instituting this very thing, express the sex and was silent concerning virginity, and gave no occasion for entrapping a word to the treacherous little foxes. Which they would readily have done; though even that would have been in vain. For what if he had said: "Virgins he created them"? Would you therefore immediately have established that only virgins may be lawfully joined? And yet how you would have exulted at the mere occasion of the word! How you would have blown away second and third marriages! How you would have insulted the Catholic Church, which all the more willingly joins harlots and pimps to each other, inasmuch as it does not doubt that thereby they pass from the base to the honorable! Perhaps you would also have reproved God for commanding the prophet to take a fornicating woman (Hos 1:2): but now even the occasion is lacking, and it pleases you to be a heretic gratuitously. For the testimony which you usurped to build up your error has been found to be of greater force for destroying it; it does nothing for you, everything against you.

But now hear that which either altogether confounds or corrects you, and utterly crushes and shatters your heresy. "A woman is bound to her husband as long as her husband lives; but if her husband dies, she is freed from the law of her husband; let her marry whom she wishes, only in the Lord" (1 Cor 7:39). It is Paul who grants to a widow that she may marry whom she wishes: and you on the contrary prescribe: "No one may marry except a virgin, and she only to a virgin," so that not even she herself may marry whom she wishes. Why do you shorten the hand of God? Why do you restrict the ample blessing of marriage? Why do you claim as proper to a virgin what has been granted to the sex? Paul would not concede this unless it were lawful. But I say too little, he concedes: he also wills it. "I wish," he says, "the younger women to marry" (1 Tim 5:14): and there is no doubt that he is speaking of widows. What is more manifest? Therefore what he concedes, because it is lawful, he also wills, because it is expedient. What is lawful and expedient, the heretic forbids? He will persuade nothing by this prohibition except that he is a heretic.

It remains that we also pursue them somewhat concerning the rest of the apostolic prophecy. For these abstain, as he foretold, "from foods which God created to be received with thanksgiving" (1 Tim 4:3): by this also proving themselves heretics, not indeed because they abstain, but because they abstain heretically. For I too abstain at times; but my abstinence is a satisfaction for sins, not a superstition in the service of impiety. Do we reprove Paul for chastising his body and bringing it into subjection? (1 Cor 9:27). I will abstain from wine, because in wine there is wantonness (Eph 5:18); or if I am weak, I will use a little, according to Paul's counsel (1 Tim 5:23). I will abstain from meats, lest while they nourish the flesh too much, they nourish at the same time the vices of the flesh. I will endeavor to take bread itself with measure, lest with a burdened stomach it should be wearisome to stand for prayer, and lest the prophet also reproach me, because I have eaten my bread in satiety (Ezek 16:49). But neither will I accustom myself to gorge on even plain water, lest the distension of the stomach reach all the way to the titillation of lust. The heretic does otherwise. Indeed he shudders at milk and whatever is made from it: and lastly at everything that is procreated from coitus. Rightly and in a Christian manner, if not on account of its being from coitus, but lest they provoke to coitus.

But what does it mean that everything that is generated from coitus is thus universally avoided? This observance of foods so pointedly expressed generates suspicion in me. Nevertheless, if you bring this forward to us from the rules of physicians, we do not reprove the care of the flesh, which no man ever hated, provided it is not excessive. If from the discipline of abstainers, that is, from the school of spiritual physicians, we approve even the virtue by which you tame the flesh and bridle lust. But if from the madness of Mani you prescribe against the beneficence of God, so that what he created and gave to be received with thanksgiving, you, not only ungrateful but also a rash censor, should decree unclean and should abstain from it as from something evil; I will by no means commend the abstinence, but will execrate the blasphemy: and I would call you yourself more unclean, who think something unclean. "All things are clean to the clean," says that best evaluator of things: "and nothing is unclean, except to him who thinks something unclean: but to the unclean and unfaithful nothing is clean, but their mind and conscience are polluted" (Tit 1:15). Woe to you who reject foods which God created, judging them unclean and unworthy for you to convey into your bodies: whereas on that very account the body of Christ, which is the Church, has spewed you out as polluted and unclean.

I am not unaware that they glory that they alone are the body of Christ: but let those persuade themselves of this who are also persuaded that they have the power daily at their table to consecrate the body and blood of Christ for nourishing themselves into the body of Christ and its members. Indeed they boast that they are successors of the apostles, and call themselves apostolics, yet they are able to show no sign of their apostleship. How long is the lamp under a bushel? "You are the light of the world," was said to the apostles: and therefore the apostles are upon the lampstand, so that they might shine upon the whole world. Let the successors of the apostles be ashamed to be the light not of the world but of a bushel, and to be the darkness of the world. Let us say to them: You are the darkness of the world: and let us pass on to other things. They call themselves the Church. But they contradict him who says: "A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden" (Mt 5:14-16). Do you believe that the stone cut from the mountain without hands, which has become a mountain and fills the world (Dan 2:34-35), is enclosed in your caves? But neither should we linger here. The opinion itself shuns being published, content with its own whispering. Christ has, and always will have, his inheritance intact, and his possession the ends of the earth. They rather withdraw themselves from this great inheritance, who strive to take it away from Christ.

Behold the detractors, behold the dogs. They mock us because we baptize infants; because we pray for the dead; because we seek the intercession of the saints. In every kind of men and in both sexes they hasten to proscribe Christ: in adults and in little ones, in the living and the dead; on the one hand prescribing against infants from the impossibility of nature, and on the other against adults from the difficulty of continence. Furthermore, they defraud the dead of the helps of the living, and despoil the living no less of the intercession of the saints who have departed. Far be it! The Lord will not forsake his people, which is as the sand of the sea, nor will he be content with the small number of heretics, he who redeemed all. For redemption with him is not small, but truly plentiful. But how great is their number in comparison with the greatness of the price? They rather defraud themselves of the price, who strive to empty it of its value. For what if an infant cannot speak for himself, on whose behalf the voice of the blood of his brother, and of such a brother, cries to God from the earth? The mother Church also stands and cries. But what of the infant? Does he not also seem to you to gape in a certain way toward the fountains of the Savior, to cry out to God, and by his very wailings to clamor: "Lord, I suffer violence, answer for me"? (Isa 38:14). He begs the aid of grace, because he suffers violence from nature. The innocence of the wretched one cries out, the ignorance of the little one cries out, the weakness of the condemned one cries out. And so all these things cry out: the blood of the brother, the faith of the mother, the destitution of the wretched one, and the wretchedness of the destitute: and the cry is to the Father. Now the Father cannot deny himself: for he is a father.

Let no one say to me that the infant does not have faith, when the mother imparts her own to him, wrapping him in it in the Sacrament, until he becomes fit to receive it, set free and pure, by his own not only understanding but also assent. Surely the cloak is not so short that it cannot cover both? Great is the faith of the Church. Is it less than the faith of the Canaanite woman, which was able, as is established, to suffice both for her daughter and for herself? Therefore she heard: "O woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you have asked" (Mt 15:28). Is it less than the faith of those who, lowering the paralytic through the tiles, obtained for him the health of soul and body alike? Indeed you have: "When he saw their faith, he said to the paralytic: Take heart, son, your sins are forgiven you; and shortly after: Take up your bed and walk" (Mt 9:2, 5-6). He who believes these things will easily be persuaded that the Church rightly presumes, by its own faith, salvation not only for baptized infants but also a crown of martyrdom for infants slain for Christ. Since this is so, those regenerated will suffer no prejudice from that which was said: "Without faith it is impossible to please God" (Heb 11:6), since they are not without faith, who have received the grace of baptism in testimony of faith. Nor from that which was likewise said: "But he who does not believe will be condemned" (Mk 16:16). For what is to believe, if not to have faith? And so also a woman will be saved through the bearing of children, if she continues in faith with gentleness (1 Tim 2:15); and infants will be succored through the regeneration of the font; and adults who cannot be continent will redeem themselves by the thirtyfold fruit of marriage; and the dead who have need of it and are worthy will receive, through the mediation of angels, the prayers and sacrifices of the living; and the consolations of those who have already arrived will by no means be lacking to those still living, through the God who is everywhere and through a love that in God is never absent from those afar. For Christ also died and rose again for this purpose, that he might be Lord both of the living and of the dead (Rom 14:9). For this reason also an infant was born, and advanced through each degree of age into manhood, so that he might be lacking to no age.

They do not believe that a purgatorial fire remains after death; but that the soul, once freed from the body, passes either to rest or to damnation. Let them therefore inquire of him who said that there is a certain sin that will be forgiven neither in this age nor in the age to come (Mt 12:32), why he said this, if no remission or purgation of sin remains in the future. But now, those who do not acknowledge the Church, it is no wonder if they detract from the orders of the Church, if they do not accept her institutions, if they despise the sacraments, if they do not obey the commandments. "Sinners," they say, "are the popes, archbishops, bishops, and priests: and therefore they are fit neither for giving nor for receiving the sacraments. Shall these two things ever agree, to be a bishop and to be a sinner?" It is false. Caiaphas was a bishop: and yet how great a sinner was he, who pronounced a sentence of death against the Lord? If you deny he was a bishop, the testimony of John will refute you, who relates that he even prophesied in testimony of his pontificate (Jn 11:51). Judas was an apostle: and though avaricious and wicked, he was yet chosen by the Lord. Or do you doubt his apostleship, whom the Lord chose? "Did I not choose you twelve," he says, "and one of you is a devil?" (Jn 6:71). You hear that he was at once a chosen apostle and turned out to be a devil; and you deny that one who is a sinner can be a bishop? Upon the seat of Moses sat the Scribes and the Pharisees, and those who did not obey them as bishops were guilty of disobedience, even against the Lord himself who commanded and said: "Whatever they tell you, do" (Mt 23:2-3). It is clear therefore that although they were Scribes, although Pharisees, although indeed the greatest sinners, yet on account of the seat of Moses, to them also no less pertains what he likewise said: "He who hears you hears me; and he who despises you despises me" (Lk 10:16).

Many other evils indeed have been persuaded upon this foolish and senseless people by spirits of error speaking lies in hypocrisy: but it is not possible to answer all of them. For who knows them all? Then the labor would be infinite and not at all necessary. For as regards these people, they are not convinced by arguments, because they do not understand; nor are they corrected by authorities, because they do not accept them; nor are they moved by persuasions, because they are perverted. It has been proven: they choose to die rather than to be converted. Their end is destruction, their last state a fire awaits. For indeed the figure of these went before them in the deed of Samson, when the tails of the foxes were set on fire (Judg 15:4-5). Often the faithful, having laid hands upon some of them, have dragged them out into the open. When asked about their faith, since they denied outright, in their usual manner, all the things of which they were suspected, they were examined by the ordeal of water and were found to be liars. And when they could no longer deny, being exposed since the water did not receive them, having taken the bit between their teeth, as they say, as wretchedly as freely they did not confess but professed their impiety, openly asserting their piety and prepared to undergo death for it. And those who stood by were no less prepared to inflict it. And so the people, rushing upon them, gave the heretics new martyrs of their own perfidy. We approve the zeal, but we do not recommend the deed; for faith is to be persuaded, not imposed. Although without doubt it is better that they be restrained by the sword, namely of him who does not bear the sword in vain, than that they be permitted to draw many into their error. For he is the minister of God, an avenger unto wrath against him who does evil (Rom 13:4).

Some wonder that they were led to death not only patiently, but even gladly, as it seemed; but they do not sufficiently consider how great is the power of the devil, not only over the bodies of men, but also over the hearts which, once permitted, he has possessed. Is it not a greater thing for a man to lay hands upon himself than to endure it willingly from another? But that the devil has been able to do this in many cases we have frequently experienced, of those who either drowned themselves or hanged themselves. Indeed Judas hanged himself (Mt 27:5), the devil without doubt putting it into him. Yet I consider it a greater thing, and marvel at it more, that he was able to put it into his heart to betray the Lord (Jn 13:2), than to hang himself. There is therefore no likeness between the constancy of the martyrs and the obstinacy of these; because contempt of death is wrought in the former by piety, in the latter by hardness of heart. And therefore the Prophet, perhaps with the voice of the martyr, was saying: "Their heart is curdled like milk, but I have meditated on your law" (Ps 113:70): on account of this, that even though the punishment might seem the same, the intention was far different; the one, to be sure, hardening his heart against the Lord, the other meditating on the law of the Lord.

Since this is so, there is no need, as I have said, to say many things in vain against men most foolish and most obstinate: it suffices that they have been made known so that they may be avoided. Wherefore, in order that they may be detected, they must be compelled either to put away their women or to go out of the Church, as those who scandalize the Church by cohabitation and companionship with women. It is greatly to be lamented that not only lay princes, but also certain men, as is said, of the clergy, and even of the order of bishops who ought rather to have persecuted them, tolerate them for the sake of gain, receiving gifts from them. "And how," they say, "shall we condemn those who are neither convicted nor confessed?" A frivolous enough excuse, not a reason but a pretext. By this alone, even if there were nothing else, you easily detect them if, as I have said, you separate the men and women who call themselves continent from one another: and compel the women indeed to live with others of their own sex and vow; and the men equally with men of the same profession. For by this provision will be made for the vow and the reputation of both alike, since they will have both witnesses and guardians of their continence. But if they do not endure this, they will be most justly expelled from the Church, which they scandalize by cohabitation that is not only notable but also illicit. Therefore let these things suffice for detecting the wiles of these foxes, to give knowledge and caution to the beloved and glorious Bride of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is over all things God blessed forever. Amen.

It calls these foxes "little" because there are also greater ones. Indeed, the ruling powers of the world are greater at raging than the fallacies of the heretics are at seducing. They are both equally evil, but their respective powers to punish are unequal, for the heretic coaxes to destroy, but the Gentile rages to conquer, the former being peacefully deceptive and the latter being cruel in persecution. But the Lord commands that both receive appropriate dispositions from the keepers of the vineyards, that is, from the leaders of the churches.

[Those] who spoil the church of God, as the "little foxes do the vineyard," we exhort you to avoid, lest you lay traps for your own souls. "For he that walks with wise men shall be wise, but he that walks with the foolish shall be known."

By the foxes, heretics are designated; by the vineyards, individual Churches. But the foxes destroy the vineyards, because through heretics the Churches are dried up from the greenness of right faith. They are rightly called "little," because although they are inwardly puffed up against the truth, outwardly they pursue humility in their words through pretense. They are then caught by holy preachers when, in the course of disputation, they are refuted by the judgments of truth. Indeed, holy preachers are sometimes called dogs by way of comparison, because through their constant preaching, as if by relentless barking, they strive to drive all adversaries away from the flock of sheep. These dogs catch the foxes for Christ, because while they faithfully love their leader, laboring for love of him, they lead the evasive heretics out from the entanglements of their questions, as if from dark dens into the light of truth. The reason the destruction wrought by the foxes is to be feared is made clear when it says: 'For our vineyard has flourished.' The vineyard has indeed flourished, because the holy Church through baptism has brought her children to a new manner of life in the faith. For these there is reason to fear lest they be corrupted by heretics, because when any believers are regenerated into the newness of Christ, the more tender each one is, the more quickly he is seduced into error. There is every reason to fear for the blossoms, lest they perish, because while anyone has not yet grown strong toward perfection through long practice, if he is bitten by a venomous tooth, he easily fades from what he had attained. For every perfected soul does not easily lose what it has long exercised itself in, because the more frequently it has tasted with its innermost palate how sweet the Lord is, the more steadfastly it holds to the righteousness of the bridegroom and spurns what is crooked.

"Catch us little foxes that demolish vineyards." Some commentators actually applied "little" to the "vineyards"; but the sense is no different in either case. By "foxes" he refers to those with a deceitful attitude who harm the Lord's churches that are just beginning to flourish—hence his saying "our vines blossom." By "foxes" he is hinting at the heretics warring against people in the church and endeavoring furtively and deceitfully to steal away those not yet made firm in the faith. By persuasiveness in word and by the snares and intricacies of argumentation they lead astray those of simpler disposition and damage the vines. For this reason he bids those exercising the teaching role to hunt them down and ensnare them with the arguments of the truth and rid the blossoming vines of this damage.

Without any loss therefore, he passed by the guardians, and the Word mixed with the daughters of that heavenly city seeks, and by seeking it arouses love in himself, and where it seeks the Word, it recognizes. It knows what waits among the prayers of the saints, and what clings to them, and understands how it feeds his Church, or the souls of his righteous ones among the lilies. The Lord demonstrated this mystery to you in the Gospel when he led his disciples through the fields on the Sabbath. Moses led the people of Judea through the desert: Christ leads through the fields, Christ leads through the lilies; for through his passion the desert blooms like a lily.

My beloved is mine, and I am his, etc. The meaning of this response is as broad as it seems to be briefly concluded. For it may rightly be understood in this way: My beloved is mine, and I am his, we are united by true and sincere love. It may also be understood in this way: My beloved has promised me such words of His divine exhortation, consolation, and promise, and I will always offer Him a clear face of my conduct and a pure voice of my speech and grace. But it can also be very decently accepted that, since pronouns usually have great force, the Church, that is, the multitude of all the elect, says, My beloved is mine, and no other; and again, My beloved is mine, not to anyone else, implying that He grants eternal favor of His love and repays fruitfully; and I am His, not to anyone else; I am His, not any other crowd of people, implying that I am always united with Him in full devotion of humility and obedience. To all these meanings aptly fits what follows:

Who feeds among the lilies. That is, who is accustomed to rejoice in the most radiant and sweetest fragrance of my virtues, who delights in the most pleasing fruit of the glittering churches throughout the world. Thus indeed the holy universal Church is sometimes described in the plural as lilies, sometimes in the singular as a lily. For as it says, As a lily among thorns, so is my beloved among the daughters. Similarly, it refers to vineyards in the plural, where it says: Blooming vineyards; and again in the singular as a vineyard, where it adds, For our vineyard has blossomed, it represents the one Church. It is named in the singular because there is one heart and one soul of the multitude of believers (Acts IV); and it is also very aptly named in the plural because that unity of faithful heart and soul is no longer contained in a few, but in a multitude of believers. Noteworthy is also that lilies, even in that they are accustomed to heal limbs burned by fire, correspond to the acts of the saints. If they chance to detect hearts being burned by the flames of vices, they immediately extend the help of brotherly love to heal them, and lest the heat of desire or luxury, arrogance or anger, or other crimes overwhelm them, they provide them with the refreshment of their consolation and exhortation with diligent care. Some interpret the Lord feeding among the lilies as among the purest choirs of virgins, and rightly so, because both their chastity of the flesh shines outwardly and the brilliance of their inviolate hearts shines inwardly. Again, the Lord feeds among the lilies, that is, among the most pleasing virtues or bands of saints, in the very reason that He is born among them; for since He Himself, the Mediator of God and men, willed to be of one nature with His Church, hence the same Church is often called His body and He the head of the body of the Church. He feeds among the lilies when the number of the faithful within the Church is increased through the fountain of regeneration. He feeds among the lilies when the faithful, who are certainly members of Him, advance in the love of the highest by the illustrious examples of previous faithful. And it is noteworthy that here the beloved is said to feed, while above he is said to lead the pastures: the bride saying, Tell me, whom my soul loves, where you feed, where you rest at midday; for he is fed in us, because we are His body, and members from His member; He feeds us because He is our head, in whom we all rightly glory, each saying, But now has He exalted my head above my enemies, implying that He will also later exalt us, and gather us to the head; and since this pasturing of the Lord, which takes place in the progress of His saints, extends to the end of this age (for when they reach His vision, they will have nothing further to advance in), it is rightly added:

1. "My beloved is mine, and I am his, who feeds among the lilies" (Song 2:16). Who would now charge her with presumption or insolence, if she says she has entered into fellowship with him who feeds among the lilies? Even if he fed among the stars, by the sole fact that he fed, I know not what greatness could appear in having friendships or familiarity with one of this sort. Something altogether ignoble and lowly sounds in the word "to feed." But now, since he is declared to feed among the lilies, this addition of lowliness further removes and drives away the charge of recklessness. For what are lilies? According to the word of the Lord, grass, which today is, and tomorrow is cast into the oven (Mt 6:28-30). How great is this one who feeds on grass, as though one of the lambs or calves? And indeed a lamb, and a fatted calf. But perhaps you have more watchfully noticed that it is not pasture that is designated in this place, but a place: for it was not said that he feeds on lilies, but among lilies. So be it. He does not eat grass like an ox; yet to dwell in the grass and to recline upon the grass as one of the crowd, what eminence can this have? And what glory to her, to have as beloved one who does this? And according to the letter indeed, the modesty and prudent caution of the bride in speaking sufficiently appears, she who disposes her words in judgment, and tempers the glory of things by the modesty of her words.

2. But otherwise she is not ignorant that the one who is fed and the one who shepherds are one and the same; he who dwells among the lilies and he who reigns above the stars. Yet she more gladly recalls the lowly things of her beloved, on account of humility indeed, as I said; but more so because he began to be beloved from the time he also began to feed. And not only from that time, but on account of that. For he who is Lord in the highest is beloved in the lowest; reigning above the stars, and loving among the lilies. He loved also above the stars, because nowhere and never could he not love, because he is love; but until he descended to the lilies and was found to feed among the lilies, he was neither loved nor made beloved. What? Was he not loved by the patriarchs and prophets? He was: but not before he was seen by them also to feed among the lilies. For indeed they did see him whom they foresaw; unless someone is so devoid of the Spirit as to think that one who sees in the Spirit sees nothing. Whence then are they called Seers, for so the prophets were named (1 Sam 9:9), if they saw nothing? Hence it is that they wished to see him whom they did not see. For they could not have wished to see in the body him whom they had not seen in the Spirit. But I say: Were all of them prophets? As if all wished to see, or the faith belonged to all. But indeed those who saw were either prophets or those who gave assent to the prophets. For to have believed is to have seen. For not only he who sees through the spirit of prophecy, but also he who sees through faith, if someone should say that he too sees in the Spirit, does not seem to me to err.

3. And so that he who feeds all deigned to descend to the lilies and to feed among the lilies, this made him beloved, because he could not be loved before he was known. And on this account, when mention was made of the beloved, beautifully that too was recalled which was the cause of love and recognition. This refreshment among the lilies is to be sought in the Spirit: for to think of a bodily one is ridiculous. Indeed the lilies themselves, being spiritual, must be demonstrated by us, if we are able. I think we must also say this: whence the beloved feeds among the lilies -- whether on the lilies themselves, or on other herbs or flowers hidden among the lilies? And in these matters that seems more difficult to me, that he is said to feed, not to shepherd. For that he shepherds, there is no doubt, nor indeed is it unworthy of him: but to feed implies need, and not even spiritually does it seem possible to assign this to him easily without injury to his majesty. Nor do I indeed recall having noticed until now in this canticle that he is anywhere said to feed, though I think you recall with me that he shepherds. Finally, she once asked that it be shown to her where he shepherded and rested at midday (Song 1:7). And now indeed she declares what she had not yet said, that he feeds, but she does not similarly ask that the place be shown to her; rather she herself points it out, assigning it as among the lilies. She knows this, but that she did not know; because what is sublime and in the heights cannot be equally at hand as what is lowly and upon the earth. The work is sublime, and the place is sublime: nor is there access to it even for the bride herself as yet.

4. And therefore he emptied himself even to this, that the very shepherd of all should himself feed; and he was found among the lilies, and seen by the Church, he was loved by the needy as a poor man, made beloved on account of his likeness. And not only so, but also on account of truth, and meekness, and justice: because through him, that is, the promises were fulfilled, because iniquities were forgiven, because the proud demons together with their prince were judged. Such therefore did he appear who was rightly to be loved: truthful on his own behalf, gentle toward men, just on behalf of men. O truly to be loved and to be embraced with all the marrow of the heart, this Bridegroom! Why should the Church now hesitate to commit herself entirely with all devotion to so faithful a restorer, so gracious a pardoner, so just a champion? Moreover the Prophet had said before: "In your splendor and beauty stretch forth prosperously." Whence this splendor and beauty? I think, from the lilies. What is more beautiful than a lily? So nothing is more beautiful than the Bridegroom. What then are those lilies from which the splendor of his beauty comes? "Proceed," he says, "and reign, on account of truth, and meekness, and justice" (Ps 45:4). They are lilies, lilies, I say, sprung from the earth, shining upon the earth, preeminent among the flowers of the earth, fragrant beyond the scent of spices. Therefore the Bridegroom is among these lilies, and altogether from them is he beautiful and fair. For otherwise (as regards the weakness of the flesh) he had no splendor nor beauty (Isa 53:2).

5. Now truth is a good lily, conspicuous in whiteness, preeminent in fragrance; indeed it is the brightness of eternal light, the splendor and figure of the substance of God (Wis 7:26). Plainly a lily, which our earth brought forth to a new blessing, and prepared before the face of all peoples, a light for the revelation of the nations (Lk 2:31-32). While the earth was under a curse, it brought forth thorns and thistles. But now Truth has sprung from the earth, the Lord blessing it (Ps 85:11-12), a certain altogether beautiful flower of the field and lily of the valleys. Recognize the lily by its whiteness, which immediately at the very rising of the flower shone upon the shepherds by night, as the Gospel says, because the angel of the Lord stood by them, and the brightness of God shone round about them (Lk 2:9). Rightly of God, because it was not the brightness of the angel, but of the lily. The angel was present, but the lily was gleaming all the way from Bethlehem. Recognize the lily also by its fragrance, by which it became known even to those far off. And indeed a star appeared; but grave men would by no means have followed it, unless they were drawn by a certain inmost sweet scent of the lily that had sprung forth. And truly truth is a lily, whose fragrance animates faith, whose splendor illumines the understanding. Lift up your eyes now also to the very person of the Lord, who speaks in the Gospel: "I am the truth" (Jn 14:6). And see how fittingly truth is compared to a lily. If you have not noticed, notice from the center of this flower something like golden rods coming forth, and encircled by the whitest petals, beautifully and fittingly arranged in a crown: and recognize the golden divinity in Christ, crowned with the purity of human nature, that is, Christ in the diadem with which his mother crowned him. For in that with which his Father crowned him, he dwells in unapproachable light, nor could you see him in it for the present. But of this another time.

6. Now truth is a lily; and meekness is one also. And well is meekness a lily, having the whiteness of innocence and the fragrance of hope, since "there are remnants," he says, "for the man of peace" (Ps 37:37). A man of good hope is the meek man, and no less also in the present he is a certain shining example of social life. Is it not a lily, which shines in its service and is fragrant in hope? Add that just as truth has sprung from the earth, so also has meekness. Unless someone doubts that the Lamb, the ruler of the earth, has sprung from the earth (Isa 16:1), that Lamb who was led to the slaughter and did not open his mouth (Isa 53:7). Nor has meekness or truth alone sprung from the earth, but justice also, as the prophet says: "Drop down, you heavens, from above, and let the clouds rain down the just one; let the earth be opened, and let it bud forth the Savior, and let justice arise together" (Isa 45:8). That justice is a lily, remember from Scripture, that "the just one shall bud forth like a lily and shall flourish forever before the Lord" (Hos 14:5). By no means does this lily today exist and tomorrow is cast into the oven, because it shall flourish forever. And it shall flourish before the Lord, in whose memory the just one shall be forever, and he shall not fear an evil report (Ps 112:6-7), namely that report by which sinners are commanded to go into the furnace of fire. Moreover, the whiteness of this lily, for whom does it not shine, except for him whom it does not please? Indeed it is a sun, but not the one that rises upon the good and the evil. For indeed those who shall say: "The sun of justice has not risen upon us" (Wis 5:6), never saw its light. But as many as heard saw: "For you who fear God, the sun of justice shall arise" (Mal 4:2). Therefore the whiteness of this lily is among the just; its fragrance is diffused even to the wicked, though not for their good. For we have heard the just saying that "we are the good odor of Christ in every place; but to some indeed the odor of life unto life, and to others the odor of death unto death" (2 Cor 2:15-16). Who, even the most wicked, does not approve the reputation of a just man, even though he does not love the work? And blessed is he, if he does not judge himself in that which he approves. But he does judge himself, approving the good and not loving it: and therefore he is plainly not blessed but wretched, condemned by his own judgment. What is more wretched than one to whom the odor of life is not the herald of life, but of death? Indeed not even a herald, but a bearer.

7. There are many other lilies besides these with the Bridegroom, which have occurred to us from the Prophet; I speak of truth, and meekness, and justice; nor will it be difficult now for any of you to find similar ones by yourself in the garden of so delightful a Bridegroom. He abounds and superabounds with such: who could enumerate them? Indeed as many virtues, so many lilies. What end of virtues is there with the Lord of virtues? But if there is a fullness of virtues in Christ, then also of lilies. And perhaps for this reason he called himself a lily, because he is wholly engaged among lilies, and all things that are his are lilies: his conception, his birth, his manner of life, his words, his miracles, his sacraments, his passion, his death, his resurrection, his ascension. Which of these is not white and not most sweetly fragrant? So great indeed was the brightness of heavenly light that shone forth in his conception from the abundance of the Spirit coming upon her, that not even the holy Virgin herself would have endured it, had she not been overshadowed by the power of the Most High. Moreover, his birth was made white by the uncorrupted virginity of his mother; his manner of life by the innocence of his life; his words by truth; his miracles by purity of heart; his sacraments by the mystery of godliness; his passion by the willingness to suffer; his death by the freedom of not dying; his resurrection by the fortitude of the martyrs; his ascension by the fulfillment of promises. How good is the odor of faith in each of these, filling the seasons and the inmost depths of us, we who did not see the whiteness! And blessed are they who have not seen and have believed (Jn 20:29). My portion in these is the odor of life which proceeds from them. This, infused into my nostrils by a certain fitting instrument of faith, and indeed more copiously on account of the multitude of lilies, both lightens my exile and continually renews the longing for my homeland in my inmost depths.

8. Certain companions of the Bridegroom also have lilies, but not in abundance. For all have received the Spirit in measure, virtues and gifts in measure; he alone has no measure (Jn 3:34), who has the whole. It is one thing to have lilies, another to have nothing but lilies. Whom will you give me from among the children of captivity so innocent and holy that he could have occupied his entire land with flowers, and flowers of this kind? Not even an infant of one day is without stain upon the earth (Job 14:4-5, according to the LXX). Great is the one who has been able to build up three or four lilies in his land, amid so great a density of thorns and thistles, which are the long-established sprouts of the ancient curse. But with me, who am poor, it goes well if ever from this most wretched crop, namely of iniquities and vices, I can reclaim by rooting out and cultivating so small a piece of my land, from which I might produce at least one lily, if perhaps he who feeds among the lilies might deign to feed sometimes even with me.

9. But I have said too little, one: from the poverty of my heart my mouth has spoken. One is utterly not sufficient; two at least are necessary. I mean continence and innocence: of which the one without the other will not save. In vain therefore shall I invite the Bridegroom to any one of these alone, since he is declared to feed not at a lily, but among lilies. I shall therefore give my effort to having lilies, lest he find fault with the singleness of a lily, he who wills to feed only among lilies, and so turn away in anger from his servant. I set innocence first of all: and if I shall have been able to join continence to it, I shall think myself rich in the possession of lilies. But I am a king if I can add to these a third, patience. And indeed those two can suffice; but because they can also fail in temptations, since the life of man upon earth is a trial (Job 7:1): there is need indeed of patience, which may be a certain guardian and keeper of both. I think, if that lover of lilies shall come and shall find it thus, he will not disdain to feed with us and to make his Passover with us: where there will be for him both much sweetness in the two, and great security on account of the third. But how he who feeds all things is said to feed, will be seen afterward. Now, however, it is clear that the Bridegroom not only appears among the lilies, but can by no means ever be found outside of lilies, since everything that is of him, and he himself, is a lily, the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is over all things God blessed forever. Amen.

1. The end of the preceding sermon is the beginning of this one. The Bridegroom, then, is a lily, but not a lily among thorns, since he has no thorns who committed no sin. Indeed he declared the bride to be a lily among thorns; since even she, if she should say that she has no thorns, deceives herself, and the truth is not in her. But he professed himself indeed a flower and a lily, yet not among thorns. Rather he says: "I am the flower of the field and the lily of the valleys" (Song 2:1-2). And there is no mention of thorns, because he alone among men has no need to say: "I was turned in my affliction, while the thorn was fastened in me" (Ps 31:4). Therefore he is never without lilies, who is always without vices; because he is wholly and always radiant, beautiful in form beyond the sons of men (Ps 44:3). You therefore who hear or read these things, take care to have lilies in your possession, if you wish to have this dweller among lilies dwelling in you. Let your work, your pursuit, your desire: let a certain moral radiance and fragrance of the things themselves declare them to be lilies. Customs too have their colors, and they have their odors. For in spiritual things color and odor are not the same thing, no more than in bodily things. Therefore let conscience be consulted regarding the color, and reputation regarding the odor. "You have made our odor to stink before Pharaoh and his servants," say those men (Ex 5:21), speaking of opinion. Moreover, the intention of the heart and the judgment of conscience give color to your work. Vices are black, virtue is radiant. Between the one and the other, conscience, when consulted, discerns. The sentence of the Lord stands concerning the evil eye and the bright one (Mt 6:22-23), because he fixed certain boundaries between bright and black, and divided the light from the darkness. Therefore what proceeds from a pure heart and a good conscience is radiant, and is virtue; but if a good reputation has also followed, then it is a lily, since it lacks neither the radiance of a lily nor its fragrance.

2. Moreover virtue, even if not made greater on that account, is nevertheless made more beautiful and more illustrious. But if there is a blemish in the conscience, neither will that which proceeds from it be free from blemish. For if the root is in vice, so also is the branch. And accordingly, whatever it may be that a vitiated root produces from itself not without the transmission of vice — for example, a word, an action, a prayer — even if reputation seems to applaud, it is not something that ought to be called a lily; because even if the fragrance seems to agree, the color does not. For how can there be a lily with a blemish of impurity? Nor indeed will reputation be able to vindicate for virtue what conscience has convicted of being vice. Virtue will indeed be content with the radiance of conscience, where the fragrance of reputation cannot follow: but the fragrance of reputation will not suffice even to excuse the vice of a discolored conscience. Yet the man of virtue will always provide, so far as it lies in him, for good things, not only before God, but also before men (Rom 12:17), that he may truly be a lily.

3. But there is also a radiance of the soul that comes from the forgiveness of God, as he himself says through the prophet: "If your sins be as scarlet, they shall be made white as snow; and if they be red as a little worm, they shall be as white wool" (Isa 1:18). And there is a radiance which he puts on who shows mercy with cheerfulness. For if you look upon that man whom the Prophet depicts as a joyful man, who shows mercy and lends (Ps 111:5), does he not seem to you to have imparted from that very joyfulness of mind a certain radiance to the face, and equally to the work, of his compassion? Just as, on the other hand, if someone gives out of sadness and as if out of necessity, he displays in hand and countenance not a radiant but a gloomy color. And therefore God loves a cheerful giver (2 Cor 9:7). Does he love a sad one? Surely he who looked upon Abel on account of the radiance of his eagerness, turned his face from Cain, because his countenance had fallen (Gen 4:4-5), namely from sadness and envy. Consider what kind of color sadness or envy has, which turns the gaze of God away from itself. Beautifully and elegantly, in coloring a good deed, the radiance of joyfulness was praised in that saying of the poet: "Above all things, kind looks were added" (Ovid, Metamorphoses VIII). And not only the cheerful giver, but also he who gives in simplicity (Rom 12:8), is loved by God. And simplicity is a radiance. We prove it from the contrary: for duplicity is a blemish. I have said too little: it is a stain. What is duplicity but deceit? But indeed he who has acted deceitfully in the sight of God, his iniquity has been found unto hatred (Ps 35:3). And therefore blessed is he to whom the Lord will not impute sin, nor is there deceit in his spirit (Ps 31:2). Beautifully the Lord marked both stains, deceit and sadness, in few words: "Do not become," he said, "like the hypocrites, sad" (Mt 6:16). The Bridegroom, therefore, since he is virtue, takes delight in virtues; and since he is a lily, he willingly dwells among lilies; and since he is radiance, he is delighted by radiant things.

4. And perhaps this is what is meant by being fed among the lilies: to be delighted by the radiance and fragrance of virtues. And indeed he was fed of old in bodily fashion at the home of Mary and Martha, reclining also in body among lilies (I speak of those women, for they were lilies), while no less he refreshed his spirit with the devotion and virtues of the women. And if at that hour a prophet had entered, or an angel, or any other spiritual being who was not unaware of what majesty was reclining there; would he not, astonished at the condescension and familiarity which he would perceive him to have with pure souls and chaste bodies, yet earthly and of the weaker sex, rightly have testified: "I have seen him not only dwelling, but also feeding among lilies"? So then according to both, I mean flesh and spirit, the Bridegroom was found to be fed among lilies. But I think that he in turn likewise fed them, but in the spirit. By this very fact that he was fed, how was he feeding? How, I ask, was he strengthening the timidity of the women, gladdening their humility, enriching their devotion? But if you have seen that for him to be fed is to feed; see now also, whether perhaps conversely to feed is for him to be fed. "Lord, who feeds me from my youth," says the holy patriarch Jacob (Gen 48:15). A good head of household, who takes care of his own domestics, especially in evil days, so that he may nourish them in famine, feeding them with the bread of life and understanding, and so nurturing them unto eternal life. But while he feeds, I believe, he is himself no less fed, and indeed with foods on which he gladly feasts — our progress. For the joy of the Lord is our strength.

5. So then both when he feeds he is fed, and when he is fed he feeds, at once refreshing us with his spiritual joy, and equally rejoicing in our spiritual progress. My repentance is his food, my salvation is his food, I myself am his food. Does he not eat ashes like bread? But I, because I am a sinner, am ashes, that I may be eaten by him. I am chewed when I am reproved, swallowed when I am instructed, cooked when I am changed, digested when I am transformed, made one when I am conformed. Do not marvel at this: he eats us, and is eaten by us, so that we may be more tightly bound to him. For we are not otherwise perfectly united to him. For if I eat and am not eaten, he will seem to be in me, but I am not yet in him. And if I am indeed eaten, but do not eat, he will seem to have me in himself, but not also to be in me; and there will not be perfect union in either one of these alone. But let him eat me, that he may have me in himself; and let him in turn be eaten by me, that he may be in me: so that the connection may be whole and firm, since I shall be in him and he will be no less in me.

6. Do you wish me to show you by a likeness what is being said? Raise your eyes now to a certain higher correspondence, yet similar to this one. If the Bridegroom himself were so in the Father that the Father was nevertheless not in him; or if the Father were so in him that he himself were not in the Father; I dare to say that even their unity would remain short of perfection, if indeed it would still be unity. But now since both he is in the Father and the Father is in him, there is no way for their unity to limp, but truly and perfectly he and the Father are one. So then let the soul, for whom it is good to cling to God (Ps 72:28), not consider itself perfectly united to him, unless it has perceived both him remaining in it and itself remaining in him. Not that even then it would be called one with God, in the way that the Father and the Son are one: although he who clings to God is one spirit (1 Cor 6:17). I have read this, but that other I have not read. I do not speak of myself, who am nothing, but plainly no one, unless he be mad, whether from earth or from heaven, will claim for himself that saying of the Only-Begotten: "I and the Father are one" (Jn 10:30). And yet I, though dust and ashes, relying indeed on the authority of Scripture, would by no means be afraid to say this, that I am one spirit with God — if ever, however, I shall have been persuaded by certain experiences that I cling to God after the manner of one of those who remain in charity, and through this remain in God, and God in them, eating God and eaten by God. For of such clinging I think it was said: "He who clings to God is one spirit." What then? The Son says: "I am in the Father, and the Father is in me" (Jn 14:11), and "we are one" (Jn 10:30); man says: "I am in God, and God is in me," and "we are one spirit."

7. But do the Father and the Son, in order to be in each other and accordingly one, eat each other, as God and man pass into each other by a certain mutual eating, being through this, even if not one thing, certainly one spirit? Far from it! For those two are not in each other in one and the same way as these, nor is the unity of both pairs one and the same. "One spirit" and "one thing": since neither can "one spirit" be fitting to the Father and the Son, nor can "one thing" be fitting to man and God. You, if you are wise, having taken this occasion, will be wiser, prudently observing that there indeed through "one thing" a unity of substance or nature is signified; but here through "one spirit" equally a unity, but therefore a far different one, because between the substances and natures of man and God, each has its own nature and its own substance, whereas it is established that the nature and substance of the Father and the Son is entirely one. You see that the former is not even a unity, if indeed it is compared to this singular and supreme unity. For how can there be unity where there is a plurality of natures, a diversity of substances? And yet the soul clinging to God is said to be, and is, one spirit with God; nor does the plurality of things prejudice this unity, which is made not by a confusion of natures but by a harmony of wills. On account of this also, many hearts are called one, and many souls one, as it is written: "The multitude of believers had one heart and one soul" (Acts 4:32). And this, then, is also a unity.

8. But what is it compared to that unity which does not consist in a uniting, but subsists in eternity? Plainly that unity is not produced by any mutual eating, as in this case, because it is not produced at all. For it simply is. Nor is it a conjunction, or a kind of composition, or anything of the sort, which does not belong to what is one. But the Father and the Son have a nature, essence, and will that is not only one but one thing. For their being is nothing other than their being their nature; their willing is nothing other than their being, or their being their nature. It is not, therefore, that the unity by which the Father and Son are one should be said to be made from natures or essences or wills, because there are not multiple ones; nor is it something that should be said even to come into being, because it simply is. For it is not fabricated, but native. The Father and the Son are in each other, not only in an ineffable but also in an incomprehensible manner, capable and containing each other; but so capable as to be not divisible, so containing as not to be participatory. For as the Church sings in a hymn: "In the Father the whole Son, and the whole Father in the Word" (Hymn for Monday at Matins). The Father is in the Son, in whom he has always been well pleased; and the Son is in the Father, from whom, as he was never not begotten, so he was never separated. Moreover, through charity man is in God and God is in man, as John says: "He who remains in charity remains in God, and God in him" (1 Jn 4:16). "One spirit" and "one thing": the difference between the two unities is also indicated; since indeed neither can "one spirit" be fitting to the Father and the Son, nor "one thing" to man and God. The Father and the Son cannot be called "one spirit," because the one is the Father and the other is the Son: yet they are called and are "one thing," because their substance is entirely one, and not each his own. On the contrary, man and God, because they are not of one substance or nature, cannot indeed be called "one thing," yet they are called "one spirit" in certain and absolute truth, if they cling to each other with the glue of love. Which unity indeed is made not so much by a coherence of essences, as by an agreement of wills.

9. It is clear, unless I am mistaken, not only the diversity but also the disparity of the two unities, the one existing in one essence, the other in diverse essences. What is so distant from itself as the unity of many and the unity of one? So between the two unities, as I have said, "one spirit" and "one thing" mark the distinction, because through "one thing" indeed in the Father and the Son a unity of essence is designated, but through "one spirit" between God and man not this, but a certain concordant piety of affections. Yet with an addition, the Father and the Son are most rightly called "one" as well; for instance, one God, one Lord, and whatever else is said of each in himself and not in relation to the other. For their divinity or majesty is not different, no more than their substance, or essence, or nature. For all these very things, if you consider piously, are not different or divided in them, but are one. I have said too little: they are one also with them. What of that unity by which many hearts are read as one, and many souls as one? It ought not, I think, to be reckoned worthy of the name of unity, when compared to this one, which does not unite many things, but singularly designates one. Therefore that unity is singular and supreme which does not consist in a uniting, but subsists in eternity. Nor does the aforementioned spiritual eating produce it, because it is not produced. It simply is. Much less should it be thought that any conjunction of essences or consensus of wills produces it, because there are not multiple ones. For theirs, as has been said, is one essence and one will; but for what is one there is no consensus, no composition, no coupling, or anything of the sort. There must be at least two wills for there to be consensus; and likewise two essences for there to be a conjunction or union through consensus. None of these exist in the Father and the Son, since they have neither two essences nor two wills. Each of these two things is one for them; or rather, as I recall having said above, these two things are one in them, one also with them; and through this they, as incomprehensibly so also immutably remaining in each other, are truly and singularly one. If, however, someone should say that there is a consensus between the Father and the Son, I do not contend, provided he understands not a union of wills, but a unity of will.

10. But God and man, because they stand and are distant in their own proper wills and substances, we sense to remain in each other in a far different manner, that is, not confused in substances, but concordant in wills. And this union is itself a communion of wills and a consensus in charity. Happy union, if you experience it; nothing at all, if you compare it. The voice of one who has experienced it: "But for me, to cling to God is good" (Ps 72:28). Good indeed, if you have clung in every respect. Who is he who perfectly clings to God, unless he who, remaining in God, as one beloved by God, has no less drawn God into himself by loving in return? Therefore when man and God cling to each other on every side (and they cling on every side when they are bound to each other by intimate and mutual love), through this I would unhesitatingly say that God is in man and man is in God. But man indeed has been in God from eternity, as one loved from eternity, if at least he is one of those who say that he loved and graced us in his beloved Son before the constitution of the world (Eph 1:4, 6); but God is in man from the time he is loved by man. And if this is so, man indeed is in God even when God is not yet in man; but God is not in a man who is not in God. For he cannot remain in love, even if perhaps he loves for a time without being loved; but one who is loved can also not yet love. Otherwise how will it stand that he himself first loved us? (1 Jn 4:10). Moreover, when he who was loved before now also loves, both man is in God and God is in man. But he who never loves, it is certain that he was never loved; and accordingly neither is he himself in God, nor God in him. Let these things be said to give the difference between that connection by which the Father and the Son are one, and that by which the soul clinging to God is one spirit, lest perhaps because it is read of man remaining in charity that he remains in God and God in him, and likewise of the Son that he is no less in the Father and the Father in him, the prerogative of the adopted and of the Only-Begotten should be thought equal.

11. Having settled these matters, then, we must return to him who is fed among the lilies, because the digression was made from there to this point: whether it was made idly, you will judge. And indeed I had already set down two meanings of the passage itself: either that he is fed by the virtues of the radiant ones, he who is virtue and radiance; or that he receives sinners to repentance in his body, which is the Church, for whom, in order to incorporate them into himself, he made himself sin, he who committed no sin, so that the body of sin might be destroyed, to which sinners had once been united, and that they might be justice in him, justified freely.

12. I set down yet a third interpretation which presents itself; and I think it will suffice not only for the explanation of the passage, but also for the conclusion of the sermon. The Word of God is truth, and he is the Bridegroom. You know this; hear the rest. When he is heard and not at all obeyed, he remains in the meantime empty and hungry in a certain way, altogether sad and complaining that he was put forth in vain. But if he has been obeyed, does not the word seem to you to have grown into a certain fullness, because to the word a work has been added, as if it were nourished by certain fruits of obedience, by the harvests of justice? Hence it is that he says in the Apocalypse: "Behold I stand at the door and knock: if anyone hears my voice and opens the door to me, I will enter in to him, and I will dine with him, and he with me" (Rev 3:20). This sense seems to be confirmed also by the sentence of the Lord in the prophet, where he says that his word will not return to him empty, but will prosper and will accomplish that for which he sent it (Isa 55:11). It will not return to me empty or hungry, he says, but as if prospering in all things, it will be sated by the good deeds of those who acquiesce in it with love. Indeed in common usage a word is said to be fulfilled when it has been consigned to effect: that is, it is for so long empty and lean, and in a certain way famished, until it is completed by a work.

13. But hear him say with what food he is nourished. "My food," he says, "is to do the will of my Father" (Jn 4:34). This is the word of the Word openly indicating that his food is a good deed — if, however, he has found it among lilies, that is, among virtues. Otherwise, if he has found it outside, even if the food seems good in itself, he who is fed among lilies will not touch it. For instance, he does not accept an alms from the hand of a plunderer or a usurer; but neither indeed from a hypocrite, who when he gives alms, has a trumpet sounded before him, so that he may be glorified by men. Nor will he in any way hear the prayer of him who loves to pray on the corners of the streets, so that he may be seen by men (Mt 6:2, 5). For the prayer of a sinner shall be execrable (Prov 28:9). In vain also does he offer his gift at the altar, who is conscious that his brother has something against him (Mt 5:23-24). Indeed he did not look upon the offerings of Cain (Gen 4:5), for the reason that he did not walk rightly with his brother. By the testimony of the holy prophet, he also abominated the sabbaths, and new moons, and sacrifices of the Jews, so that he openly declared that his soul hated them, and he said: "When you came before my face, who required these things from your hands?" I believe those hands did not smell of lilies, and therefore he who is accustomed to be fed among lilies, and not among thorns, rejected the gift from them. Why would they not have thorny hands, to whom he said: "Your hands are full of blood" (Isa 1:13-15)? And the hands of Esau were hairy, similar to thorny ones; and therefore they were not admitted to minister to the Holy One.

14. I fear that even among us there may be some whose gifts the Bridegroom does not accept, because they do not smell of lilies. For if on the day of my fasting my own will is found, the Bridegroom has not chosen such a fast, nor does my fasting please him which savors not of the lily of obedience but of the vice of self-will. And I say this not only of fasting, but of silence, of vigils, of prayer, of reading, of manual labor, and lastly of every observance of a monk: wherever his own will is found in it, and not the obedience of his master, I hold the same view. By no means at all would I consider those observances, even though good in themselves, to be reckoned among the lilies, that is, among the virtues; but he who is of this sort will hear from the prophet: "Is such the service that I have chosen, says the Lord?" And he will add: "On the day of your good works your own wills are found" (Isa 58:3-5). Self-will is a great evil, by which it comes about that your good things are not good for you. It is necessary, therefore, that such things as these become lilies, because he who is fed among lilies will taste absolutely nothing that has been contaminated by self-will. He is Wisdom, reaching everywhere on account of his purity, and nothing defiled enters into him (Wis 7:24-25). So then the Bridegroom loves to be fed among lilies, that is, in clean and bright hearts. But for how long? "Until the day breathes and the shadows decline." This is a shadowy and dense place: let us not enter this forest of a profound sacrament except in the clear light of day. For already as I have been discoursing too long, the day has declined; and we are unwillingly torn away from these lilies. Nor have I been overcome by the length, from which the fragrance of the flowers was removing all weariness. A little bit seems to remain of the present chapter. But that little bit is too hidden, just as are all the other things of this canticle. But he who reveals mysteries will be present, as I trust, when we begin to knock: and he will not close the mouths of those who speak of him, he whose custom it is rather to open what is closed — the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is God blessed above all things forever. Amen.

1. "My beloved is mine, and I am his, who feeds among the lilies: until the day breathes, and the shadows decline" (Song 2:16-17). Only the last part of this chapter remains to be treated, and I hesitate at the very entrance as to which of the two preceding parts I should most fittingly join it to: for I can indifferently assign it to either. For whether you say: "My beloved is mine, and I am his until the day breathes, and the shadows decline," with only "who feeds among the lilies" interposed; or following the order of the text, "who feeds among the lilies, until the day breathes, and the shadows decline": you assign it not unfittingly to either. This indeed matters, that if you join "until" to the first, you must understand it as inclusive; if to the middle part, you must take it as exclusive. Suppose, for example, that the Bridegroom indicates that he will then feed among the lilies when the day has breathed: will he likewise also cease to attend to the bride, or she to him? Far from it! They will persevere with each other forever, except that then more happily, because more intensely; then more intensely, because more freely. Let this "until," therefore, be of the same kind as that one in Matthew, where it is narrated that Joseph did not know Mary until she bore her firstborn son (Mt 1:25): for neither did he know her afterward. Or certainly of the same kind as that in the psalm: "Our eyes are toward the Lord our God, until he have mercy on us" (Ps 122:2): for they will not be turned away when he begins to have mercy. Or like that saying of the Lord to the apostles: "Behold I am with you even to the consummation of the age" (Mt 28:20): for neither will he afterward not be with them. But this holds true only if you refer "until" to "my beloved is mine, and I am his."

1. "My beloved to me, and I to him" (Song 2:16). Thus far the words of the Bridegroom. May he himself be present, so that worthily, to his own glory and for the salvation of ourselves, we may be able to search out the words of his Bride. For they are not such as can be considered and examined by us, as would be worthy, unless he himself shall have been the guide of the word. For they are as sweet in grace as they are fruitful in meaning, and indeed as profound in mysteries. To what shall I liken them? To some one dish of a feast, which excels with a certain threefold grace: delicious in flavor, solid in nourishment, efficacious as medicine. So, I say, so each and every word of the Bride: both from the fact that it sounds sweetly, it soothes the affection; and from the richness of its meanings it fattens and nourishes the mind; and from the depth of its mysteries, while it exercises the understanding more, it terrifies it more, and in a wondrous way heals the swelling of inflating knowledge. For if any one of those who seem to themselves to be learned shall have given himself rather curiously to the scrutiny of these words, when he has seen the powers of his intellect succumb and has perceived every understanding reduced to captivity, will he not, humbled, be compelled to that utterance, so that he says: "Your knowledge has become wonderful beyond me; it is strengthened, and I cannot attain to it" (Ps 138:6)? And now indeed, what a mark of sweetness does the beginning of her words set forth! For see what a beginning she has given. "My beloved," she says, "to me, and I to him." The utterance seems simple, since it sounds sweetly; but about this more will be seen later.

2. Now indeed she begins from love, she continues about the beloved, indicating that she knows nothing else except the beloved. It is clear whom the discourse concerns; but with whom, not so. For it is not permitted to feel as though it were with him, since he himself is no longer present. Nor is this doubtful: for soon she seems to call him back, and as if to cry out after him from behind: "Return," she says, "my beloved." Whence we are led to conjecture nothing other than that, his words being finished, he has again in his manner absented himself, and she has remained speaking nonetheless about him, who is never absent from her. So it is: she retained on her lips him who did not depart from her heart, not even when he was departing. For what goes out from the mouth comes from the heart, and from the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks (Lk 6:45). Therefore she speaks of the beloved, as one truly beloved and truly worthy of being loved, because she loves much. We ask with whom she speaks: for about whom, we know. And no one occurs to us, unless perhaps the young maidens, who cannot be absent from their mother when the Bridegroom has departed. But it is better, as I think, to understand her as having spoken rather with herself and not with another, especially since the speech itself is found to be broken and not fully connected, plainly insufficient for giving understanding to a hearer, on account of which we especially speak with one another. "My beloved to me," she says, "and I to him." Nothing more? The discourse hangs; nay, it does not hang, but it fails. The hearer is held in suspense, not instructed, but raised up.

3. What is this that she says, "He to me, and I to him"? We do not know what she is saying, because we do not feel what she feels. O holy soul, what is he, your beloved, to you, and what are you to him? What, I ask, is this exhibition and return of favor, running back and forth between you so familiarly and so favorably? He to you, and you in turn to him. But what? Are you the same thing to him that he is to you, or something different? If you speak to us, if you speak to our understanding, declare plainly what you feel. How long do you hold our souls in suspense? Or according to the prophet, is your secret yours alone? (Is 24:16.) So it is: affection has spoken, not understanding, and therefore not for the understanding. For what then? For nothing, except that, having been wonderfully delighted and vehemently moved by the desired words, when he had made an end, she could neither be altogether silent nor yet express what she felt. For she did not speak thus in order to express it, but lest she should be silent. From the abundance of the heart the mouth has spoken, but not in proportion to the abundance. Affections have their own voices, through which they betray themselves even when they are unwilling: fear, for example, has timid voices; grief, voices of groaning; love, joyful voices. Surely the lamentations of those who are grieving, or the sobs and sighs of those who are sorrowful, the sudden and wild cries of those who are struck or of those who are frightened, or even the belching of those who are sated -- does custom create these, or reason excite them, or deliberation order them, or premeditation form them? It is certain that things of this kind go forth not by a nod of the mind, but burst forth by an impulse. So a burning and vehement love, especially a divine one, when it cannot contain itself within itself, does not attend to the order, the rule, or the sequence or fewness of words in which it may boil over, provided that from this it feels no detriment to itself. Sometimes it does not require words, sometimes it requires no voices at all, content with sighs alone for this. Hence it is that the Bride, burning with holy love, and that in an incredible manner, indeed for the sake of catching any slight evaporation of the ardor that she suffers, does not consider what or how she may speak: but whatever has come to her mouth, with love pressing, she does not enunciate but belches forth. And why should she not belch, so refreshed and so replenished?

4. Go over the text of this nuptial song from its very beginning up to this point, and see if so great an abundance of his presence was ever indulged to her as on this occasion in all the visitations and addresses of the Bridegroom; and if she has ever received from his mouth not only so many but also so delightful discourses. She, then, who had filled her desire with good things, what wonder if she made a belch rather than a word? And if it seems to you that she has made a word, consider it belched forth and not prepared or preordained. For the Bride does not consider it robbery to apply to herself the saying of the Prophet: "My heart has belched forth a word" (Ps 44:2), being filled indeed with the same Spirit. "My beloved to me, and I to him." It has no logical sequence; the sentence is lacking. What of it? It is a belch. What do you seek in a belch -- the junctures of sentences, the proprieties of diction? What rules or regulations do you impose upon your own belch? It does not receive your moderation, it does not await composition from you, it does not require convenience, it does not seek opportunity. By itself from the inmost parts, not only when you do not will it, but even when you do not know it, it bursts forth, torn out rather than sent forth. Nevertheless, a belch carries an odor, sometimes good, sometimes bad, according to the contrary qualities of the vessels from which it ascends. Finally, "a good man from a good treasure brings forth good, and an evil man evil" (Mt 12:35). The Bride of my Lord is a good vessel, and good is the odor from her.

5. I give thanks to you, Lord Jesus, who have deigned to admit me at least to the smelling. Yes, Lord, for even the little dogs eat of the crumbs that fall from the table of their masters (Mt 15:27). To me, I confess, the belch of your beloved smells good, and from her fullness, however small a portion, I receive gratefully. She belches forth for me the memory of the abundance of your sweetness, and I have caught the scent of something ineffable of your condescension and love in this utterance: "My beloved to me, and I to him." Let her, as is worthy, feast and exult in your sight, and delight in gladness: yet so let her exceed for you, that she may be sober for us. Let her, then, be filled with the good things of your house, and let her be given to drink from the torrent of your pleasure: but, I ask, let at least a thin odor reach me, a poor man, as she belches forth, when she has been sated. Moses belched well for me, and the odor in his belch was good, the odor of creating power: "In the beginning," he says, "God created the heaven and the earth" (Gen 1:1). Isaiah belched well: for he gave the most sweet odor of redeeming mercy, belching thus: "He delivered his soul unto death, and was reckoned with the transgressors, and he himself bore the sins of many, and made intercession for the transgressors" (Is 53:12), that they might not perish. What equally smells of mercy? Good also was the belch from the mouth of Jeremiah; good from David, who says: "My heart has belched forth a good word." They were all filled with the Holy Spirit, and belching they filled all things with goodness. You ask for the belch of Jeremiah? I have not forgotten; I was just now preparing it. "It is good to wait with silence for the salvation of the Lord" (Lam 3:26). It is his, if I am not mistaken; bring it to your nostrils; the sweetness of rewarding justice, which it carries, surpasses balsam. He wants me, patient for the sake of justice, to await the reward in the future, not to receive it in the present, because the reward of justice, salvation, is not of the world but of the Lord. "If he makes a delay," he says, "wait for him" (Hab 2:3); and do not murmur, because it is good to wait with silence. Therefore I will do what he exhorts; I will wait for the Lord my Savior.

6. But I am a sinner, and still a great journey remains for me, because salvation is far from sinners. I will not murmur, however: in the odor I will meanwhile console myself. "The just man shall rejoice in the Lord," experiencing by taste what I perceive by smell. What the just man beholds, the sinner awaits; and the awaiting is the smelling. For "the expectation of the creature," he says, "awaits the revelation of the sons of God" (Rom 8:19). Moreover, to behold is to taste and to see that the Lord is sweet. Or rather, is the just man blessed who awaits and who already holds? For "the expectation of the just is gladness" (Prov 10:28). For the sinner awaits nothing. And he is a sinner on this account: that, not only detained but also content with present goods, he awaits nothing for the future, deaf to that voice: "Wait for me, says the Lord, in the day of my resurrection in the future" (Zeph 3:8). And therefore Simeon was just, because he was waiting for and already smelling Christ in the spirit, whom he did not yet adore in the flesh. And he was blessed in his expectation, because through the odor of expectation he arrived at the taste of contemplation. Finally he says: "And my eyes have seen your salvation" (Lk 2:25). Just also was Abraham, who himself awaited to see the day of the Lord, and was not confounded by his expectation; for he saw and rejoiced (Jn 8:56). Just were the apostles when they heard: "And you yourselves be like men waiting for their master" (Lk 12:36).

7. Why should David not also be just, when he was saying: "Waiting I waited for the Lord"? (Ps 39:2.) He is the fourth among the number of my aforementioned belchers, whom I had almost passed over. It is not fitting indeed. He opened his mouth and drew in the spirit (Ps 118:131), and being sated he not only belched but also sang. Good Jesus! How great a sweetness this one poured into my nostrils and ears in his belch and song, of the oil of gladness with which God, your God, anointed you above your companions: of myrrh and stacte and cassia from your garments, from ivory palaces, from which the daughters of kings have delighted you in your honor! (Ps 44:8-10.) Would that you might deign to meet me with so great a prophet and friend of yours on a day of solemnity and gladness, when he shall go forth from your bridal chamber, singing his nuptial song on a joyful psaltery with the harp, abounding in delights, sprinkled and sprinkling all things with the aromatic dust of this kind! On that day, or rather in that hour: for it is an hour if it ever is, and perhaps not even an hour, but half an hour, according to that Scripture: "There was silence in heaven for about half an hour" (Rev 8:1): therefore in that hour my mouth will be filled with joy, and my tongue with exultation, while I feel that each -- I do not say each psalm, but each verse -- is a belch, and indeed more fragrant than all spices. What is more fragrant than the belch of John, which smells to me of the eternity, generation, and divinity of the Word? What shall I say of the belches of Paul, with how great a sweetness they have filled the world? For "he was the good odor of Christ in every place" (2 Cor 2:14-15). The ineffable words, even if he does not bring them forth for me to hear, he nevertheless offers them so that I may desire, and it may be pleasing to smell what it is not permitted to hear (2 Cor 12:4). For I know not by what means, the more they lie hidden, the more they please, and the more eagerly we gape after what is denied. But now observe in the Bride a similar thing: how, in the likeness of Paul, in the present chapter, she neither opens the secret nor passes over it untouched, granting something as it were to our sense of smell, which she may have judged not to be fitting for the taste at this time, either on account of our unworthiness, or on account of our incapacity.

8. "My beloved to me, and I to him." What is not in doubt is that in this place the mutual love of two burns; but in the love, the supreme happiness is assuredly of the one, the wondrous condescension of the other. For this agreement or embrace is not between equals. Moreover, as to what she may glory in from this prerogative of love -- what has been bestowed upon her and what has been repaid in turn by her -- who presumes that he clearly knows, unless one who by an extraordinary purity of mind and sanctity of body shall have merited to experience something of this kind in himself? The thing lies in the affections; nor is it reached by reason, but by conformity. How few indeed are those who say: "But we, with unveiled face beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, as from the Spirit of the Lord" (2 Cor 3:18).

9. But so that what is read may be reduced to some form of understanding, however humble: with the Bride's own singular secret being reserved, to which for now it is not given to approach, especially for such as we are; something must indeed be set forth for us, all the more fitted to the common sense as it is more familiar, which may give both consequence to the words and understanding to little ones. And to me indeed it seems sufficient for our rough and in some way popular understanding, if in saying "My beloved to me," we supply the word "attends"; so that the sense may be: "My beloved attends to me, and I to him." Although even so I was neither the only one to have perceived this, nor the first, since the Prophet before me had said: "Waiting I waited for the Lord, and he attended to me." You have clearly the attention of the Lord to the Prophet: you have also the Prophet's to the Lord in the fact that he says: "Waiting I waited." For he who waits attends, and to wait is to attend. The meaning is altogether the same, nearly the same words, in the Prophet as in the Bride; but by the Prophet they are transposed. For he placed first what she placed last, and conversely.

10. Moreover, the Bride has spoken more rightly, and not putting forward merit but setting forth the benefit first, and confessing that she has been preceded by the grace of the beloved. Rightly indeed. For "who has first given to him, and it shall be recompensed to him?" (Rom 11:35.) Finally, hear John, what he perceived in his Epistle on this matter. "In this is love," he says, "not as though we have loved God, but that he first loved us" (1 Jn 4:10). The Prophet, however, even if he was silent about the anticipation of grace, did not deny the following thereof: plainly he was not silent. But receive in another place his more certain confession concerning this matter. "And your mercy," he says (he was speaking to the Lord), "will follow me all the days of my life" (Ps 22:6). Hear also concerning the anticipation, his no less certain and manifest knowledge. "My God," he says, "his mercy will anticipate me" (Ps 58:11); likewise to the Lord: "Quickly," he says, "let your mercies anticipate us, for we have become exceedingly poor" (Ps 78:8). Beautifully the Bride later, if I am not mistaken, places these same words not in the same order, but she too follows the order of the Prophet, speaking in this manner: "I to my beloved, and my beloved to me." Why so? Surely so that she may then prove herself the more full of grace, when she shall have given all to grace, and ascribed to it, of course, both the first and the last parts. Otherwise, how full of grace, if she has anything that is not from grace? There is no place for grace to enter where merit has already occupied. Therefore the full confession of grace marks the fullness of grace itself in the soul of the one confessing. For if anything of one's own is present, to that extent grace must yield to it. Whatever you assign to merits is lacking to grace. I do not want the merit that excludes grace. I shudder at whatever is of my own, insofar as it makes me my own, except that perhaps that is more mine which makes me mine. Grace returns me to myself, justified freely, and so freed from the servitude of sin. For where the Spirit is, there is liberty.

11. O foolish Bride, the Synagogue, who despising the justice of God, that is, the grace of her Bridegroom, and wishing to establish her own, has not been subject to the justice of God! On this account the wretched one has been repudiated, and is no longer the Bride; but the Church, to whom it is said: "I have betrothed you to myself in faith; I have betrothed you to myself in judgment and justice; I have betrothed you to myself in mercy and in compassions" (Hos 2:19-20). "Nor did you choose me, but I chose you"; nor did I find your merits in order to choose you, but I anticipated them. Therefore in faith I betrothed you to myself, and not in the works of the law; and I betrothed you in justice, but the justice which is from faith, not from the law. It remains that you judge a right judgment between me and you, the judgment in which I betrothed you, where it is established that not your merit but my good pleasure intervened. But this is the judgment: that you do not exalt your merits, do not put forward the works of the law, do not boast of the burden of the day and the heat, you who are known to have been betrothed rather in faith and in the justice which is from faith, and no less in mercy and in compassions.

12. She who is truly the Bride recognizes these things and confesses both graces: first indeed, that which is first, by which she was also anticipated; and afterward, the subsequent one as well. And so she says now: "My beloved to me, and I to him"; assigning the beginning to the beloved. In what follows: "I," she says, "to my beloved, and my beloved to me"; granting the consummation to him equally. Now let us see what she says: "My beloved to me." For if this is accepted so that we supply "attends," as we have already said, and as the Prophet says: "Waiting I waited for the Lord, and he attended to me": I perceive in this word something not at all small, and of no ordinary prerogative. But a matter worthy of all eagerness is not to be thrust upon wearied ears and minds. If it is not burdensome, let it be deferred, and not for long; let tomorrow's sermon begin from there. Only pray that from rushing occupations the grace and mercy of the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is God over all things blessed forever, may meanwhile guard us. Amen.

1. Hear now what we deferred yesterday, hear my joy which I have felt. And it is yours: hear it rejoicing. In one word of the bride I felt this, and as it were caught the scent of something hidden, to be set forth for you today all the more festively, inasmuch as it comes more seasonably. The bride has spoken, and she said that the bridegroom attends to her. Who is the bride, and who is the bridegroom? He is our God: and she, if I dare say it, is we ourselves, together indeed with the remaining multitude of captives, whom he himself knows. Let us rejoice: this is our glory; we are those to whom God attends. How great, however, is the disparity. What are the earthborn and the sons of men before him? According to the prophet, so they are as though they were not, and as nothing and emptiness are they accounted by him (Isa 40:17). What then does this comparison between ones so unequal mean? Either she glories beyond measure, or he loves beyond measure. How admirable it is that she claims his attention for herself as though it were her own, saying: "My beloved is mine"! Nor content with this, she proceeds to glory further, that she responds to him as though from an equal standing, that she complies, that she repays in kind. For there follows: "And I am his" (Song 2:16). A bold word, "and I am his." No less bold, "my beloved is mine": except that bolder than either is both together.

2. O what does a pure heart dare, and a good conscience, and faith unfeigned! "He attends to me," she says. Is it so, that that majesty, upon which the governance and administration alike of the universe falls, is attentive to this one; and the care of the ages is transferred to the sole business, or rather the sole leisure, of this love and desire? It is plainly so. For she is the Church of the elect, concerning whom the Apostle says: "All things for the sake of the elect" (2 Tim 2:10). And who doubts that the grace and mercy of God is upon his saints, and his regard upon his elect? (Wis 4:15). Therefore we do not deny providence to the other creatures: but the bride claims the care for herself. "Does God care about oxen?" (1 Cor 9:9). Nor is there any doubt that we can say the same of horses, of camels, of elephants, and of all the beasts of the earth: likewise also of the fish of the sea, and the birds of the sky; lastly, of every thing that is upon the earth, with the sole exception of those to whom it is said: "Casting all your care upon him, for he himself cares for you" (1 Pet 5:7). Does it not seem to you as if it were said in these words: Attend to him, because he himself attends to you? And observe whether the apostle Peter (for they are his words) did not himself also observe the order of the bride's words. For he does not say: "Casting all your care upon him, so that he may care for you"; but "because he himself cares for you": openly showing thereby that the Church of the saints is not only how beloved, but also that she was beloved first.

3. It is established that the word which the Apostle spoke about oxen does not pertain to her: for he who loved her and gave himself for her has care of her. Is not this that wandering sheep, whose care was set above even the care of the flocks above? At length, those having been set aside, the shepherd descended to this one, sought her diligently, and when found did not lead her back but carried her back: he brought into the heavens new festivities of joy with her and on her account, the peoples of the angels having been invited to the solemnity (Lk 15:4-7, 10). What then? He deigned to carry her back on his own shoulders; and will he not have care of her? Therefore she is not ashamed to say: "The Lord is concerned for me" (Ps 39:18). Nor does she consider herself to err when she likewise says: "The Lord will repay on my behalf" (Ps 137:8); and if there is anything else of the kind that seems to signify the care of God concerning her. Hence it is that she calls the Lord of hosts her beloved, and glories that he who judges all things with tranquillity (Wis 12:18) attends to her. Why should she not glory? She has heard him saying to her: "Can a mother forget, so as not to have mercy on the son of her womb? And even if she should forget, yet I will not forget you" (Isa 49:15). Finally, "the eyes of the Lord are upon the just" (Ps 33:16). And what is the bride, if not the congregation of the just? What is she, if not a generation of those seeking the Lord, seeking the face of the bridegroom? For he does not attend to her without her attending to him. Therefore she sets down both, saying: "He is mine, and I am his." He is mine, because he is kind and merciful; I am his, because I am not ungrateful. He attends to me with grace upon grace, I to him with grace for grace; he to my liberation, I to his honor; he to my salvation, I to his will; he is mine, and not another's, since I am his one dove; I am his, and not another's: for I do not hear the voice of strangers; nor do I acquiesce to those who say to me: "Behold, here is Christ"; or, "Behold, there he is" (Mk 13:21). Thus speaks the Church.

4. What of each single one of us? Do we think there is anyone among us to whom what is said can be fitted? What did I say, among us? But even concerning anyone at all established within the Church, if someone should ask this, I would not consider it altogether to be censured. For the account of one is not the same as that of many. For it was not on account of one soul, but on account of many to be gathered into one Church, to be bound together into a single bride, that God both did and endured so many things, when he worked salvation in the midst of the earth. That most dear one is one for one, not clinging to another bridegroom, not yielding to another bride. What would she not dare with so ambitious a lover? What would she not hope from him, who sought her from heaven, called her from the ends of the earth? Nor did he merely seek her, but he acquired her. Consider also the manner of the acquisition, in the blood of the acquirer. But otherwise, as is her wont, she presumes all the more on this account, because looking forward into the future she is not ignorant that the Lord has need of her. You ask for what? For seeing in the goodness of his elect, for rejoicing in the joy of his nation, that he may be praised with his inheritance (Ps 105:5). Nor should you consider this a small work: no work, I tell you, will remain perfect if this one should waver. Does not the end of all things depend on the state and consummation of the Church? Take this away, and in vain does the lower creation await the revelation of the sons of God. Take this away, and neither the patriarchs nor any of the prophets will be made perfect, since Paul asserts that God so provided for us, that without us they should not be made perfect (Heb 11:40). Take this away, and the glory of the holy angels themselves will limp on account of the incompleteness of their number, and the city of God will not rejoice in its own integrity.

5. Whence then shall the purpose of God be fulfilled, and the mystery of his will, and that great sacrament of piety? Whence lastly will you give me infants and sucklings, from whose mouth God may perfect his praise? (Ps 8:3). Heaven does not have infants; the Church has them, to whom she also says: "I gave you milk to drink, not solid food" (1 Cor 3:2). And these are invited by the Prophet to complete the praise, as it were, saying: "Praise the Lord, you children" (Ps 112:1). Do you think our God will have the full praise of his glory, until those come who in the sight of the angels may sing to him: "We rejoiced for the days in which you humbled us, for the years in which we saw evil"? (Ps 89:15). This kind of joy the heavens have not known, except through the children of the Church; no one ever rejoices in this way, who never does not rejoice. Fittingly does joy come after sadness, rest after labor, a harbor after shipwreck. Security pleases all, but more so him who has feared. Light is delightful to all, but more delightful to one escaping from the power of darkness. To have passed from death to life doubles the grace of life. This is my portion in the heavenly banquet, and set apart from the blessed spirits themselves. I dare to say that the blessed life itself is without experience of my blessedness, unless it deigns to confess that through charity it enjoys it in me and through me. Something indeed seems to have been added to that very perfection from me, and this not a little. For the angels rejoice at the repentance of a sinner. But if my tears are the delights of the angels, what are their own delights? Their whole work is to praise God: but something is wanting to the praise, if those are lacking who say: "We passed through fire and water, and you brought us out into refreshment" (Ps 65:12).

6. Happy therefore in her universality is the Church, whose every boasting is unequal to its cause, not only for those things which have already been done for her, but also for those which must yet be done concerning her. For why should she be anxious about merits, when a firmer and more secure ground of boasting lies at hand in the purpose of God? God cannot deny himself, nor can he fail to do what he has already done, as it is written, "who has done the things that are to come" (Isa 46:10). He will do it, he will do it, nor will God be wanting to his own purpose. Thus there is no reason for you to ask by what merits we may hope for good things, especially since you hear from the prophet: "Not for your sake, but for my own sake I will do it, says the Lord" (Ezek 36:22). It suffices for merit to know that merits do not suffice. But as it is enough for merit not to presume upon merits, so to be without merits is enough for judgment. Furthermore, none of the reborn infants is without merits, but they have the merits of Christ. Those, however, render themselves unworthy of these, who have not been unable but have neglected to join their own. Which danger indeed belongs to those already of adult age. Therefore take care to have merits; once you have them, know that they were given; hope for the fruit, which is the mercy of God: and you will have escaped every danger of poverty, of ingratitude, and of presumption. Pernicious is the poverty that is a penury of merits; but presumption of spirit is deceitful riches. And therefore "give me neither riches nor poverty, Lord," says the Wise Man (Prov 30:8). Happy is the Church, which lacks neither merits without presumption, nor presumption without merits. She has that on which to presume, but not merits: she has merits, but for deserving, not for presuming. Is not this very not-presuming itself a deserving? Therefore she presumes the more securely, inasmuch as she does not presume: and there is nothing by which she should be confounded in the word of glory, for whom there is ample matter for glorying. The mercies of the Lord are many, and his truth endures forever.

7. Why should she not glory in security, in testimony of whose glory mercy and truth have met together? (Ps 84:11). Whether she says: "My beloved is mine"; or whether she says: "With expectation I waited for the Lord, and he attended to me"; or whether: "The Lord is concerned for me" (Ps 39:2, 18); or if there are any other voices of this kind, which seem likewise to express a certain divine affection and singular favor toward something: she will consider none of these foreign to herself, whose ground for presuming is the decree of the Lord, especially since she sees no other bride, no other Church, to whom can be done the things that cannot not be done. Therefore concerning the Church it is clear that she will not hesitate to apply all those things to herself in any respect. Concerning a single soul the question is also asked, whether, if she is spiritual and holy, it is in any way permissible for her to dare such things. For she will not arrogate to herself all the prerogatives of that one catholic multitude, on account of which all things are done, she being one of the multitude, however eminent she may be in holiness. And therefore with greater difficulty, as I sense it, will it be found, if indeed it is found, how this can be permissible. Whence I consider it necessary that this be attempted in another sermon, and that we not now enter upon the paths of a thorny disputation, whose exit we still do not know, unless first prayer concerning the hidden word shall have been made to him who opens and no one shuts, the bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is over all things God blessed forever. Amen.

"My beloved to me, and I to him." The preceding discourse assigned this voice to the universal Church, on account of the promises of life made to her by God, both of the life which now is and of the life to come; the question now before us concerns the individual soul, because one soul cannot arrogate to itself what the whole body dares to claim, nor in any way draw that claim to itself. If it is not permitted, let us therefore refer it to the Church in such a way that it applies by no means to a single person; and not only this voice, but also the remaining voices similar to it, speaking great things. But if anyone thinks it is permitted, I do not refuse; yet it matters to whom: for it is not permitted to just anyone. Assuredly the Church of God has her spiritual ones, who not only faithfully, but also confidently deal in this matter, speaking with God as with a friend, their conscience bearing witness to the glory that is his. Who they are is known to God alone; but you, hear what manner of person you ought to be, if you wish to be such. What I shall say, however, is not as one who has experienced it, but as one who desires to experience it. Give me a soul loving nothing besides God, and that which is to be loved on account of God; for whom to live is Christ, not only now but for a long time already; whose study and leisure it is to set the Lord always before its sight; whose one will—not to say great will—and whose capacity it is to walk carefully with the Lord its God: give me, I say, such a soul, and I do not deny it worthy of the Bridegroom's care, of the regard of his majesty, of the favor of him who rules, of the solicitude of him who governs; and if it should wish to glory, it will not be foolish, provided that he who glories, glories in the Lord. Thus in what many dare, one also dares, but for a different reason.

How great, do you think, is the grace of familiarity that arises from this abiding between the soul and the Word, how great the confidence that follows from the familiarity? It is not, I think, that such a soul should any longer be afraid to say: "My beloved to me"; for from the fact that it feels itself loving, and loving vehemently, it does not doubt that it is loved no less vehemently in return; and from its own singular intention, solicitude, care, effort, diligence, and zeal, with which it incessantly and ardently watches over how to please God, it recognizes without doubt all these same things equally in him, remembering his promise: "In what measure you shall have measured, it shall be measured to you again"; except that the prudent Bride is more cautious in drawing the requital of grace to her own side, knowing that she was rather preceded by the beloved. Hence it is that she puts forward his work first: "My beloved," she says, "to me, and I to him." Therefore from her own dispositions she recognizes what is in God; nor does she doubt that she is loved, she who loves. So it is. The love of God begets the love of the soul, and his preceding intention makes the soul intent, and his solicitude makes it solicitous. For I know not by what closeness of nature, once the soul shall have been able to behold the glory of God with face unveiled, it is necessary that it soon be conformed to it and transformed into the same image. Therefore, as you shall have prepared yourself for God, so it is necessary that God appear to you. "With the holy he will be holy, and with the innocent man he will be innocent." Why not equally with one who loves, a lover; and with one who is at leisure, at leisure; and with one who is intent, intent; and solicitous with one who is solicitous?

For indeed he says: "I love those who love me, and those who watch for me at dawn will find me." You see how he not only makes you certain of his love, if indeed you love him, but also of his solicitude, which he bears for you, if he has perceived you solicitous for him. Do you watch? He also watches. Rise up in the night at the beginning of your watches, hasten to anticipate even the watches themselves as much as you will; you will find him, you will not precede him. Rashly in such a matter you attribute to yourself something either prior or greater; he both loves more and loved before. If the soul knows this, nay because it knows it, do you marvel that it glories that that majesty, as if caring for nothing else, attends to it alone, to whom alone, all other cares set aside, it keeps itself with total devotion? This discourse desires an end; but one thing I say to those among you who are spiritual, a thing wondrous indeed but true: the soul that sees God sees no differently than as if it alone were seen by God. Therefore with this confidence it says that he attends to it, and it to him, seeing nothing besides itself and him. You are good, O Lord, to the soul that seeks you! You meet it, you embrace it, you show yourself as Bridegroom, you who are Lord, nay who are God blessed above all things forever.

As if she were saying: I hold firmly to the friendship of my beloved, because I feel his constant goodwill toward me. For while I have his kind intimacy, whatever I hear from barking enemies against him is grievous to me. And while in his constant presence I see what he is like, if adversaries bring forth any error, I do not depart from the truth that I have come to know in the sight of him. About which there well follows: 'Who feeds among the lilies, until the day breathes and the shadows decline.' What is signified by lilies, if not souls? Which, while they retain the brightness of chastity, smell sweetly to all their neighbors through the reputation of good fame. The bridegroom therefore feeds among the lilies, because without doubt he is delighted by the chastity of souls, which both preserve purity of the flesh in themselves, and please him through pure thoughts in his presence, and give examples to their neighbors like the sweetness of fragrance.

They who are blessed by the boons of God and have learned to know these passages and others like them, kindled with warm love for their bountiful Master, constantly carry on their lips this his dearest name and cry in the words of the Song of Songs, "My beloved is mine, and I am his."

For thus he says: "I to my brother, and his desire is towards me." He repeats this meaning in a different way three times in the Song of Songs. In the beginning, he says: "My brother to me, and I to him, who grazes among the lilies, until the day breathes and the shadows flee away." Then he says: "I to my brother, and my brother to me, who grazes among the lilies." In the end, he says: "I to my brother, and his desire is towards me." First, as a foundational instruction for the soul, he said: "My brother to me." For with him as my teacher, my soul also took on an attachment to God: which follows, according to progress: thirdly, according to perfection. In the first, the soul still sees shadows as in an instruction, not yet moved by the revelation of the approaching Word, but for this reason the days of the Gospel did not yet shine on it: in the second, it gathers the sweet scents without the confusion of shadows: in the third, it now provides perfect rest in itself with the Word; that it may turn over on it, bend its head, and rest, holding the merit which it could not previously find in its search.

In this verse, the Lord's resurrection is taught and foretold. Just as the apostles were afraid without him, terrorized by the treachery of the Jews, so also is the soul, which, in a certain sense, is naked and unarmed without the assistance of the Holy Spirit, terrorized by the treachery of demons.

Since, then, there are in the Old Testament precepts that we who belong to the New Testament are not compelled to observe, why do not the Jews realize that they have remained stationary in useless antiquity rather than hurl charges against us who hold fast to the new promises, because we do not observe the old? Just as it is written in the Canticle of Canticles: "The day has broken, let the shadows retire," the spiritual meaning has already dawned, the natural action has already ceased. "The God of Gods, the Lord has spoken: and he has called the earth from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof."

Until the day breaks, etc. That is, until the eternal light of the future age arises, and the shadows of this present life, that is, of ignorance or error, under which even we faithful now walk, who use the lamp of the word of God, until they pass away. For when that day desired by all nations begins to break forth, the Lord will no longer feed among the lilies, that is, among the assemblies of the saints, whom He will rather refresh with the eternal vision of His glory. "I will be satisfied," he says, "when your glory is revealed" (Psalm 16); and, "Blessed are those who hunger now, for they shall be filled" (Matthew 5). Nor is this, which compares present life to the shadows of night, and future life to the day, contrary to the apostolic saying; which testifies of this life we now live, saying, "The night is far gone; the day is at hand" (Romans 15); for, to speak briefly, the present life of the faithful, who, casting off the works of darkness, put on the armor of light, is indeed day in comparison to the unbelievers, who know or love nothing of true light; but in comparison to the future blessedness, where true light is seen eternally, it is still a very dark night. However, because the holy Church in this world recognizes two spiritual lives, one active and the other contemplative, Divine Scripture customarily speaks now of this, now of that, and now of both together. Above, making mention of the contemplative life, it says of the Lord, "Behold, he comes leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills. My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag." And then beginning with the active life, it says, "Behold, he stands behind our wall," and so on, until it says, "Catch us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vines, for our vines have tender grapes." All these things, well considered, urge us to the duty of good action. Then he adds of both together, "My beloved is mine, and I am his; he feeds among the lilies until the day breaks and the shadows flee away": for in both lives the beloved feeds among the lilies, because the Lord delights in the pure outward works and the sweet inner contemplation of the eternal ones of his chosen ones, and he is refreshed in his members. And this until the true light of day breaks, for then neither are we troubled by any labor of good work, nor do even the most perfect behold heavenly things through a glass darkly and momentarily, but the whole Church will see the King of Heaven in His beauty forever: of which vision, since any taste, however slight, greatly delights the spouse of Christ, it is aptly added:

Return, be like, my beloved, a roe or a young deer, etc. Because, he says, you have stirred and provoked me to cultivate the vineyards, that is, to instruct and multiply the faithful people, who have been ordered to drive away the cunning plots of attackers, like little foxes, from these same vineyards, because you wanted me to show my face to you, although you have not yet promised to reveal your face clearly to me, but making your acquaintance partly known to me, as if you speak to me through windows and lattice work. I beseech you to return more often from general instruction, to illuminate more sublimely the hearts of the more advanced, and just as the gaze, though rare, is with delight seen on the mountains from the roe or the young deer, so may your presence be any kind of traces of your greatness in the exalted minds. I pray that you reveal the sweetness of immortal life, which you promise to all my members in recompense, to be speculated upon even by some along the way, albeit from a distance. Furthermore, the name of the mountains suits the minds of those who have learned to open the eyes of the heart to the contemplation of heavenly things; when it is said, Over the mountains of Bether. For Bether is interpreted as a rising house, or a house of watches; and those who ascend more diligently in mind to the desires of the higher things, who more zealously watch to receive these, deservedly see the heavenly mysteries more excellently than others. But if it is read, as some manuscripts have, Over the mountains of Bethel, that is, the house of God, it has no question at all; for it is clear that the hearts of the righteous are rightly called mountains of the house of God, as opposed to the mountains of Samaria and Esau, and the like, that is, of heretics and all the proud. In another edition, we have seen written instead of this name, Over the mountains of spices and perfumes, which equally fits the minds of the saints, who are not dried up by vain thoughts, but, as with the healthful juices of the aromatic tree, are always refreshed with the internal sweetness and charity: about which juices and perfumes it has been signified often in this volume under the name of incense, myrrh, and aloes, and the like. But because lovers of truth come not only from the Jews but also from the Gentiles, and from both peoples one Church of the faithful is gathered, it remains in the song of love, after the vocation of Judea and the most sweet dialogue with its Redeemer, also to relate specifically how the Gentiles, in what order, have come to the recognition of salvation, and with what love they have held this found. Thus follows the voice of the beloved Church from the Gentiles.

So then the Bridegroom loves to be fed among lilies, that is, in clean and bright hearts. But for how long? "Until the day breathes and the shadows decline." This is a shadowy and dense place: let us not enter this forest of a profound sacrament except in the clear light of day.

1. "My beloved is mine, and I am his, who feeds among the lilies: until the day breathes, and the shadows decline" (Song 2:16-17). Only the last part of this chapter remains to be treated, and I hesitate at the very entrance as to which of the two preceding parts I should most fittingly join it to: for I can indifferently assign it to either. For whether you say: "My beloved is mine, and I am his until the day breathes, and the shadows decline," with only "who feeds among the lilies" interposed; or following the order of the text, "who feeds among the lilies, until the day breathes, and the shadows decline": you assign it not unfittingly to either. This indeed matters, that if you join "until" to the first, you must understand it as inclusive; if to the middle part, you must take it as exclusive. Suppose, for example, that the Bridegroom indicates that he will then feed among the lilies when the day has breathed: will he likewise also cease to attend to the bride, or she to him? Far from it! They will persevere with each other forever, except that then more happily, because more intensely; then more intensely, because more freely. Let this "until," therefore, be of the same kind as that one in Matthew, where it is narrated that Joseph did not know Mary until she bore her firstborn son (Mt 1:25): for neither did he know her afterward. Or certainly of the same kind as that in the psalm: "Our eyes are toward the Lord our God, until he have mercy on us" (Ps 122:2): for they will not be turned away when he begins to have mercy. Or like that saying of the Lord to the apostles: "Behold I am with you even to the consummation of the age" (Mt 28:20): for neither will he afterward not be with them. But this holds true only if you refer "until" to "my beloved is mine, and I am his." If, however, you prefer it to look to "who feeds among the lilies," it will have to be taken in another sense. Moreover, it will be shown with more labor how the beloved then ceases to feed when the day has breathed. For indeed if that day is the day of the resurrection, why would it not all the more delight him to feed among lilies there, where there will be a far greater abundance of them? And let these things be said for the sake of fitting the sequence of the text.

2. Now attend with me: although the whole kingdom is gleaming with lilies, and the Bridegroom is in their midst and delighting, nevertheless there is no reason to say that he also feeds, at least not in the way he was accustomed to before. For where now are the sinners whom Christ might incorporate into himself, chewed and bitten, as it were, by certain teeth of more austere discipline, namely by affliction of the flesh and contrition of the heart? But neither will the Word the Bridegroom any longer demand food for himself from any deeds or works of obedience, where all business is leisure, and the whole matter will consist solely in contemplation and love. And indeed his food is to do the will of his Father; but here, not there. For what would he do with what is already done? And it is established that it will then be perfect. For then at last it is for all the saints to prove what is the good and well-pleasing and perfect will of God. And certainly after what is perfect, nothing remains to be done. It remains henceforth to enjoy, not to be made; to experience, not to labor; to live by it, not to be exercised in it. Is this not the very thing which, taught indeed by the Lord, we ask with the most urgent prayer to be accomplished on earth as it is in heaven (Mt 6:10), so that the fruit of it may now delight, and the doing of it not weary? Therefore there will be no food of work for the Bridegroom the Word, because every work must necessarily cease where wisdom is more fully perceived by all. For those who are lessened in action perceive it (Sir 38:25).

3. But let us see now whether what we say can stand also according to that interpretation by which to feed among the lilies is taken by some to mean to be delighted by the radiance of virtues; for we too did not pass over that interpretation among the others. Shall we say either that virtues will not exist then, or that they will not please the Bridegroom? To hold either of these is madness. But see whether perhaps he may be delighted by them in another way; for it is certain that he is delighted, but perhaps by drink rather than by food. Indeed in this time and in this body, no virtue of ours will be so purified to clarity, none so sweet and pure, as to be fit for the Bridegroom to drink. But he who wills all men to be saved overlooks much, and what he cannot meanwhile swallow with the ease of drinking, he takes care to extract from it at least something savory, as if by a certain art and labor of chewing. The time will come when virtue will be drinkable, and it will not be crushed by the tooth, nor will it be wearied by the one chewing — or rather, it will not weary the one chewing — for it will delight the one drinking without any labor, just as a drink, not as food. For in the Gospel you have him pledging: "I will not drink of this fruit of the vine," he says, "until I drink it new with you in the kingdom of my Father" (Mt 26:29). And of food there is no mention. But also in the Prophet it is read: "Like a mighty man intoxicated with wine" (Ps 77:65); but of food nothing at all is found there. The bride, therefore, conscious of this mystery, having perceived and testified that the beloved feeds among the lilies, set a term for how long he would deign to do so — or rather, she recognized and testified to the term already set, saying: "Until the day breathes, and the shadows decline." For she knew that he would afterward be given the virtues to drink rather than to eat.

4. Now let us apply ourselves to consider that day and its shadows: what it is, what they are; by what reason it breathes, and in what power they may be made to decline. It was said altogether pointedly, "until the day breathes" — indeed singularly. For in this place alone, unless I am mistaken, you will find a day that breathes. For breezes, not times, are said to breathe. Man breathes, the other animals breathe, for whom air unceasingly exchanged sustains life. And what is this but wind? The Holy Spirit also breathes, and from this he is called "spirit." In what manner, then, is a day breathing, which is neither wind, nor spirit, nor animal? Although indeed it is said not merely "breathing," but, what sounds more pointedly, "aspirating." No less unusually said is "and the shadows decline." For at the rising of this bodily and visible light, shadows are not made to decline, but are annihilated. Therefore these things must be sought outside of bodies. And if indeed we find a spiritual day and spiritual shadows, then perhaps the declining of the latter and the breathing of the former will more easily become clear. He who supposes that day of which the Prophet says, "Better is one day in your courts than a thousand" (Ps 83:11), to be corporeal, I know not what he would not suppose to be corporeal. There is also a day in a bad sense, which the prophets cursed (Job 3:3; Jer 20:14). But far be it that this should be one of those visible days which the Lord made! And so it is spiritual.

5. Now who would doubt that the shadow is spiritual by which Mary was overshadowed when she conceived (Lk 1:35); and likewise that one which is thus recalled in the prophet: "Christ the Lord is the spirit before our face, under his shadow we shall live among the nations" (Lam 4:20)? Yet by the name of shadows in this place I think rather the contrary powers are designated, which are called by the Apostle not only shadows or darkness, but also princes of these darknesses (Eph 6:12), and together with them those of our race who cling to them, children indeed of night and not of light, nor of the day. For these shadows, when the day has breathed, will not plainly return to nothing, as we see bodily shadows before the face of this bodily light not merely disappear but also utterly perish. And so they will by no means be reduced beyond nothing, yet they will be more wretched than nothing. They will exist, but declined and subjected. For: "He shall bow down," it says, "and shall fall" (no doubt the prince of shadows), "when he has had dominion over the poor" (Ps 9:10). Therefore nature will not be destroyed, but power will be withdrawn; substance will not perish, but the hour and power of darkness will pass away. They are taken away, lest they see the glory of God; they are not annihilated, so that they may burn forever. Why would the shadows not be made to decline, when the mighty are cast down from their seat, and made a footstool for feet? (Rom 13:12.) Which indeed must come to pass quickly. It is the last hour; the night has preceded, but the day has drawn near. The day will breathe, and the night will expire. The night is the devil, the night is the angel of Satan, even if he transforms himself into an angel of light. The night is also the Antichrist, whom the Lord will slay with the breath of his mouth and destroy by the brightness of his coming (2 Thess 2:8). Is not the Lord the day? A day indeed illuminating and breathing, who by the breath of his mouth puts the shadows to flight, and destroys phantoms by the brightness of his coming. Or if you prefer to take the word "declining" simply, and to suppose that to decline is nothing other than to be annihilated: lest we fail even this sense, we say that the shadows are the figures and enigmas of the Scriptures, and also the sophistical expressions and cavils of words and the entanglements of arguments, all of which meanwhile cast shadow upon the light of truth. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when the day breathes, the shadows will decline, because with the fullness of light occupying all things, no part of darkness will be able to remain. For when that which is perfect has come, then that which is in part shall be made void (1 Cor 13:9-10).

6. Up to this point enough might have sufficed, if that day had been said to be breathing and not aspirating. But now, on account of that small addition, I think something more must be added, namely for the sake of investigating the reason for this difference. For I, to confess the truth, have long since persuaded myself that in the text of the sacred and precious utterance not even the slightest particle is empty of meaning. Now we are accustomed to use this word when we vehemently desire something; as, for example, when we say: "That man aspires to that honor, or to that dignity." Therefore by this word is designated a wondrous future abundance and vehemence of the spirit on that day, when not only hearts but also bodies will in their own kind be spiritual; and those who are found worthy will be inebriated by the abundance of the house of the Lord, and will be given to drink from the torrent of his pleasure.

7. Or in another way. Already for the holy angels a sanctified day has shone, breathing upon them with the unceasing rush of perpetual flow the honeyed secrets of the eternal divinity. For: "The rush of the river makes glad the city of God" (Ps 45:5); but the city to which it is said: "The dwelling of all who rejoice is in you" (Ps 86:7). But when it has begun to breathe upon us also who inhabit the earth, it will be not merely breathing but aspirating, because with widened bosom it will admit us also. Or (to repeat from a little higher, and to discuss more broadly) when man had been formed from the mud of the earth, the Creator, as the truthful history narrates, breathed into his face the breath of life (Gen 2:7), having become thereby for him a day inspiring: and behold, the envious night craftily collided with this day, under a simulated light indeed. For while it promised, as it were, a more splendid light of knowledge, it poured the darkness of evil counsel upon the unsuspecting new light, and brought a foul darkness of ruinous transgression upon the beginnings of our origin. Woe, woe! They knew not, nor understood; they walk in darkness, not knowing, putting darkness for light, and light for darkness. For the woman ate from the tree which the serpent had given her, and God had forbidden; and she gave to her husband, and it began to dawn for them as if anew. For immediately the eyes of both were opened, and a day conspiring was made, thrusting out the day inspiring and substituting the day expiring. For they conspired and came together as one against the Lord and against his Christ: the cunning of the serpent, the blandishments of the woman, the weakness of the man. Whence the Lord and his Christ also spoke to one another: "Behold, Adam has become as one of us" (Gen 3), because to the injury of both he had acquiesced to the sinners who enticed him.

8. In this day we are all born. For we all bear stamped upon us the brand of the ancient conspiracy; Eve indeed living in our flesh, through whose hereditary concupiscence the serpent labors with sedulous care to claim our consent for his faction. For this reason, as I said, the saints cursed this day, desiring it to be brief and quickly turned into darkness (Job 3:3; Jer 20:14), because it is a day of contention and contradiction, since in it the flesh does not cease to desire against the spirit, and a contrary law in the members with untiring rebellion continually contradicts the law of the mind. And so a day expiring was made. For from that time and henceforth, who is the man who shall live and not see death? (Ps 88:49.) Let someone say this on account of wrath: I would think it no less on account of mercy, so that the troublesome contradiction, by which even the elect themselves are led captive in the law of sin which is in their members, might not long weary those for whose sake all things come to pass. For they shudder at and most painfully bear the shameful captivity and the sorrowful contention.

9. Let us hasten, therefore, to catch our breath from the ancient and wicked conspiracy, for the days of man are short (Job 14:5). May a day of breathing again receive us before a night of sighing swallow us up, to be wrapped in the exterior darkness of eternal gloom. You ask wherein this breathing again consists? In this: if the spirit begins in turn to desire against the flesh. If you fight against this, you are breathing again; if by the spirit you mortify the deeds of the flesh, you have breathed again; if you crucify this flesh with its vices and concupiscences, you have breathed again. "I chastise my body," he says, "and bring it into subjection, lest perhaps when I have preached to others, I myself should be found reprobate" (1 Cor 9:27). This is the voice of one breathing again — indeed of one who had already breathed again. "Go, and do thou likewise" (Lk 10:37), that you may prove yourself to have breathed again, that you may know that a day of inspiring has dawned for you anew. Nor will the night of death prevail against this revived day; rather it shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. So far am I from thinking that this light of life yields even when life departs, that I judge that voice to be assigned to no one more fittingly than to the one who has thus died: "And the night is my illumination in my delights" (Ps 138:11). Why would he not see more clearly, having been freed from the cloud — or rather, the dregs — of the body? Without doubt, released from the chains of the body, he will be free among the dead, and seeing among the blind. For just as of old, when every eye grew dim throughout all Egypt, the people that sees God — that is, the people Israel — alone saw clearly in the midst of darkness, Scripture saying that wherever Israel was, there was light (Ex 10:23): so among the children of darkness, in the foul gloom of death, the just will shine and see, and indeed all the more clearly as they are stripped of the shadows of bodies. For those who did not breathe again beforehand — for neither did they seek the light of the inspiring day, and the sun of justice did not rise for them — these, I say, will go from darkness into thicker darkness, so that those who are in darkness may grow still darker, and those who see may see the more.

10. Here that word of the Lord may perhaps not unfittingly be adduced which he spoke: "To him who has, it shall be given, and he shall abound; but from him who has not, even what he seems to have shall be taken away" (Lk 19:26). So it is: to those who see, more is added in death, and from those who do not see, more is taken away. For in the degree that the latter see less and less, the former see more and more, until the night of sighing receives the one group, and the day of aspiring receives the other; which are the final states of both, namely ultimate blindness and supreme clarity. From this point onward there is nothing that may be taken away from those who are wholly empty, nothing that may be added to those who are full, except that the latter presume that they will receive some I-know-not-what beyond fullness, according to the promise made to them. And the word of the promise is this: "Good measure, and pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall they give into your bosom" (Lk 6:38). Does not that which runs over seem to you to be in some way more than full? Moreover, you will calmly hear of "full" and "fuller," if you remember having read: "Forever and beyond" (Ex 15:18). Therefore that heaping up will belong to the aspirating day. That day itself, I say, will add to the measure of the inspired fullness, to the abundance of the inspiring day, working above measure a sublime weight of glory, so that the superabounding addition of glorification may overflow even into the bodies. For this reason indeed it was called not breathing but aspirating, because it adds to the inspiring day, the Holy Spirit signifying this through the added preposition "ad-"; because those whom the inspiring day illuminates within, the aspirating day adorns without, and clothes them with the robe of glory.

11. And let this suffice for giving an account of the word "aspirating." And if you wish to know, the aspirating day is the Savior himself whom we await, who will reform the body of our lowliness, made conformable to the body of his glory (Phil 3:20-21). For the inspiring day is likewise none other than he himself, according to the operation by which he first makes us breathe again in the light which he inspires, so that we too may be a day breathing again in him, according as our inner man is renewed from day to day, and is renewed in the spirit of his mind after the image of him who created him, and made thereby day from day and light from light. When, therefore, two days precede in us — one indeed inspiring for the life of the body, the other breathing again in the grace of sanctification — and moreover a third remains, aspirating in the glory of the resurrection: it is clear that what went before in the head will at some time be fulfilled in the body, a great indeed sacrament of piety, and the testimony of the prophet who says: "He will revive us after two days, on the third day he will raise us up, and we shall live in his sight; we shall know, and we shall follow on, that we may know the Lord" (Hos 6:3). He it is into whom the angels desire to look, the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is God blessed above all things forever. Amen.

1. "Return; be like, my beloved, to a roe or to a young hart of the stags" (Song 2:17). What? Just now he goes, and now you call him back? What sudden thing has emerged in so short a time? Has she forgotten something? Indeed she has forgotten everything that is not he, herself as well. For although she is not devoid of reason, she is nevertheless not at this moment, as it seems, in possession of reason. Nor does any sense of modesty at all appear in her feelings, which she perhaps has in her character. Intemperate love does this. For it is love that, triumphing over and captivating every sense of shame, the measure of propriety, and the counsel of deliberation, produces a certain neglect and a certain carelessness of all modesty and timeliness. For see now how she demands that he return, though he has scarcely yet begun to go. She even asks him to hasten, and indeed to run like some wild creature of the forests running swiftly, namely a roe, or a young hart of the stags. This is the tenor of the letter, and this is the portion of the Jews.

2. But I, just as I have received from the Lord, will search out for myself the spirit and the life in the deep bosom of the sacred eloquence; and this is my portion, who believe in Christ. Why should I not draw out a sweet and saving feast of the spirit from the barren and tasteless letter, as grain from the chaff, a kernel from the shell, marrow from the bone? I have nothing to do with this letter which, when tasted, savors of flesh, and when swallowed, brings death; but indeed what is hidden in it is from the Holy Spirit. Moreover the Spirit speaks mysteries, as the Apostle testifies (1 Cor 14:2); but Israel holds the very veil of the mystery in place of the veiled mystery. Why, unless because the veil is still placed over his heart? Thus what the letter sounds is his; what it signifies is mine; and through this, his is the ministry of death in the letter, mine is life in the spirit. For the spirit is what gives life (Jn 6:64): for it gives understanding. Is not understanding life? "Give me understanding, and I shall live," the Prophet says to the Lord. Understanding does not remain outside, does not cling to the surface, does not, like a blind man, feel about the exterior; but it searches the depths, accustomed to snatch from thence with all eagerness the most precious spoils of truth and to carry them off for itself, and to say with the Prophet to the Lord: "I will rejoice over your words, as one who finds great spoils" (Ps 118:144, 162). For thus the kingdom of truth suffers violence, and the violent seize it (Mt 11:12). But that elder brother, who coming from the field held the figure of the old and earthly people, who, taught to love the threshing for the sake of the earthly inheritance, groans anxiously with worn brow under the heavy yoke of the law, and bears the burden of the day and the heat. He, I say, because he had no understanding, stands outside even now, and does not wish, even when invited by the father, to enter the house of the feast, defrauding himself until now of participation in the music, and the dancing, and the fatted calf (Lk 15:25-30). Wretched is he who refuses to experience how good it is and how pleasant for brothers to dwell in unity. And let these things be said for the distinction between the portion of the Church and the portion of the Synagogue, so that the blindness of the latter may become more manifest from the prudence of the former, and the happiness of the former may stand out from the pitiable foolishness of the latter.

3. Now let us examine the words of the bride, and let us attempt so to express the chaste affections of holy love, that nothing devoid of reason, nothing unbecoming or importunate may appear to have remained at all in the sacred eloquence. And if that hour should come to mind, when the Lord Jesus (for he is the bridegroom) was passing from this world to the Father (Jn 13:1), and at the same time what his own domestic Church was then bearing in her soul, a new bride indeed, when she perceived herself deserted, as it were a desolate widow bereft of her sole hope — I speak of the apostles, who having left all things had followed him, and had remained with him in his trials; if, I say, we shall have considered these things, not undeservedly nor incongruously, I think, will she seem to have been as much sorrowful over his departure as anxious about his return, especially being so affected and so left. And so for one who loved and was in need, this same double reason was cause to urge her beloved, that since he could not be persuaded not to go and ascend where he was before, he should at least hasten again the promised coming. For the fact that she wishes and asks that he be like wild creatures, and such wild creatures as seem to be swifter in running, is an indication of a desiring soul, for which nothing is hastened enough. Does she not ask this daily, when she says in prayer: "Your kingdom come" (Mt 6:10)?

4. Yet beyond the agility, I think there is expressed no less pointedly also the weakness, and indeed of sex in the roe, and of age in the young hart. She wishes therefore, as it seems to me, that even if he comes with power, he should nevertheless not appear in the form of God in judgment; but rather in that form in which not only was he born, but was born a little child for us, and that from the weaker feminine sex alone. Why this? Namely so that by both weak images he may be admonished to grow gentle on the day of wrath, and may remember in judgment to exalt mercy above judgment. For if he should observe iniquities, even of the elect, who shall endure? (Ps 129:3.) The stars are not pure in his sight, and in his angels he has found crookedness (Job 4:18). Hear, finally, what a saint and an elect one says to God: "You," he says, "have forgiven the wickedness of my sin. For this shall every holy one pray to you in a suitable time" (Ps 31:5-6). Therefore even the saints have need to pray for their sins, that they may be saved by mercy, not trusting in their own justice. For all have sinned, and all need mercy. Therefore, so that when he shall have been angered he may remember mercy, he is asked by her to appear in the garment of mercy, that of which the Apostle says: "And being found in fashion as a man" (Phil 2:7).

5. Necessarily indeed. For if even with this tempering there will be such equity in the judgment, such ferocity in the judge, such sublimity in the majesty, such strangeness in the very face of things, that according to the prophet the day of his coming cannot be thought upon (Mal 3:2): what, do you think, would it be, if that consuming fire (I speak of the omnipotent God) had come in that magnitude of his divinity, in might, in purity, to show his power against a leaf that is carried by the wind, and to pursue a dry straw? (Job 13:25.) "And he is a man," he says, "and who shall see him? And who shall stand to behold him?" (Mal 3:2). How much more would no one among men endure God showing himself to us without the man, as one inaccessible in brightness, unattainable in loftiness, incomprehensible in majesty? But now "when his anger shall burn for a brief time" (Ps 2:13), how welcome, on account of the sons of grace, will appear a certain gentle vision of the man, truly a firmament of faith, a strength of hope, an increase of confidence: that grace and mercy will be upon his saints, and regard upon his elect (Wis 4:15). Finally, the Father God himself gave to the Son the power of judgment, and not because he is his Son, but because he is the Son of Man (Jn 5:27). O truly Father of mercies! He wills that men be judged through a man, so that in so great a trepidation and perturbation of the wicked, the likeness of nature may furnish confidence to the elect. Holy David had foretold this once, both praying and prophesying: "O God," he said, "give your judgment to the king, and your justice to the son of the king" (Ps 71:2). Nor does the promise made through the angels disagree with this, who when he had been taken up spoke thus to the apostles: "This Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven shall so come, just as you have seen him going into heaven" (Acts 1:11), that is, in this very form and substance of body.

6. It is clear from all these things that the bride has in herself divine counsel, and is by no means ignorant of the mystery of the heavenly will, she who, under the shadow of weak and feeble creatures, announces the weaker, or rather inferior, nature (for it will then no longer be weak) to be exhibited in the judgment, both with the affection of one who prays and with the spirit of one who prophesies; so that he who will move heaven and earth by his power, girded with might against the senseless, may nevertheless appear gentle and mild, and as though wholly unarmed, for the sake of the elect. Here this too can be added, that for distinguishing the one group from the other, he will need in a certain way both the leaps of a young hart and the eyes of a roe; so that he may be able to see and discern in so great a multitude and in so great a tumult upon whom he ought to leap and whom he ought to leap over, lest it happen that the just be trampled in place of the impious, when in his wrath he shall shatter the peoples. For as regards the impious, it is necessary that the prophecy of David be fulfilled, indeed the word of the Lord speaking through his mouth: "I will crush them like dust before the face of the wind, like the mud of the streets I will destroy them" (Ps 17:43); and likewise another word, which he had foretold through another prophet, will be recognized as fulfilled then, when returning to the angels he will say: "I have trampled them in my fury, and trodden them down in my wrath" (Isa 63:3).

7. But if to anyone it seems rather to be understood in such a way that our young hart ought to leap over the wicked, and to leap upon the good, I do not contend: only let him consider that the leaps will be arranged for the discrimination of the good and the wicked. For even by me, if I remember rightly, it was said thus in another sermon, where this same passage is found placed elsewhere above by the author, and expounded by me no less (see above, Sermon 54). But there, according to the dispensation of grace, which in the present life is given to some and not given to others, by the just judgment of God indeed, but a hidden one, this young hart was said to leap and to leap over; but here, according to the final and varied retribution of merits. And perhaps the end of this passage, which I had almost forgotten, may seem to support this meaning. For saying, "Be like, my beloved, to a roe and to a young hart of the stags," she adds, "upon the mountains of Bethel." For in the house of God, which is what Bethel means, there are no evil mountains. Wherefore the young hart, leaping upon them, does not trample but gladdens them, so that the Scripture may be fulfilled which says: "The mountains and the hills shall sing praises before God" (Isa 55:12). And indeed there are mountains which, according to the Gospel, faith compared to a mustard seed removes (Mt 17:19), but they are not mountains of Bethel. For whichever ones are of Bethel, faith does not remove them but cultivates them.

8. But if principalities and powers, and no less also the other hosts of the blessed Spirits, and the virtues of the heavens are mountains of Bethel, so that we may understand it said of these: "His foundations are in the holy mountains" (Ps 86:1), surely this young hart is not base and contemptible, who was seen to appear above such excellent mountains, "being made so much better than the angels, as he has inherited a more excellent name than they" (Heb 1:4). For what of it, if we read in the psalm that he was made less than the angels? (Ps 8:6.) For not on that account is he not better, because he is less; nor have the Apostle and the Prophet spoken contradictory things, since they have the same Spirit. For if it was of condescension that he was made less, not of necessity, then nothing at all is thereby prejudiced against his goodness, but rather ascribed to it. Finally, the Prophet declared him made less, not lesser, exalting grace and repelling injury. For nature refuses being lesser, and the cause excuses being made less. For he was made less because he himself willed it: he was made less by his own will and by our necessity. To be made less in this way was to have mercy. What kind of loss is this? Surely whatever seemed to have been lost to his majesty accrued to his piety. Although neither did the Apostle keep silent about this great mystery of great piety, but says: "But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels, for the suffering of death crowned with glory and honor" (Heb 2:9).

9. And let these things be said on account of the name and likeness of the young hart, so that we might fit it to the bridegroom, according to the word of the bride, without injury to his majesty. What am I saying, without injury to his majesty, when not even his weakness has remained unhonored? He is a young hart, he is a little one; he is also said to be like a roe, as though made of a woman: yet upon the mountains of Bethel, yet made higher than the heavens (Heb 7:26). He does not say: "Higher than the heavens being or existing," but "higher than the heavens made": lest anyone think it said of that nature, in which he is who is. But also where he is declared superior to the angels, he is likewise said to have been made better, and is not called remaining or existing better. From which it appears that not only in that which he is from eternity, but also in that which he was made in time, he claims for himself all eminence above every principality and power, and above every creature, as the firstborn of all creation. And so "the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men" (1 Cor 1:25). This indeed the Apostle says. But to me one does not seem to err, if he should say that even to the wisdom and strength of angels the same foolishness and weakness of God is to be preferred. Thus therefore the present passage will be fittingly applied to the universal Church.

10. But now as to what pertains singularly to the one soul (for even one soul, if she loves God sweetly, wisely, and vehemently, is a bride), each spiritual person can observe in himself what his own experience may answer to him from these things. But I, whatever that is which has been given me to experience of this kind in myself, shall not be afraid to speak of it openly. For even if it will perhaps seem vile and contemptible when heard, it is no concern of mine; because he who is spiritual will not despise me, and he who is less so will not understand me. Yet if I shall have reserved this for another sermon, perhaps there will not be lacking those who may be edified by those things which the Lord, entreated in the meantime, will inspire — the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ our Lord, who is over all things God blessed forever. Amen.

1. "Return," she says (Song 2:17). It is clear that he whom she calls back is not present; yet that he had been present, and that not long before: inasmuch as he who is still going away seems to be called back. An untimely calling-back, a sign of great love on the one part, and of great loveliness on the other. Who are these cultivators of charity, and such untiring pursuers of the business of love, of whom the one follows after, the other urges on, so restless a love? And indeed it falls to me, as I remember my promise, to assign this passage to the Word and the soul; but for this to be done worthily even for a little while, I confess that I need the help of the Word itself. And certainly this discourse would have been more fitting for one more experienced, and more privy to holy and secret love; but I cannot fail in my office, nor entirely disappoint your desires. I see my peril, and I do not avoid it; you compel me. You utterly compel me to walk in great things and in wonders above me. Alas! how I fear lest presently I hear: "Why do you declare my delights, and take up my sacrament through your mouth?" Yet hear me, a man who trembles to speak, and cannot be silent. Perhaps the very trembling itself will excuse my boldness; but more so your edification, if it shall result. And perhaps these tears will likewise be seen. "Return," she says. Good. He was going away; he is called back. Who will unseal for me the sacrament of this changeableness? Who will worthily explain for me the going and returning of the Word? Does the Bridegroom act with fickleness? Whence, whither can he come or go again, who fills all things? What local motion, finally, can he have, who is a spirit? Or what motion at all, of whatever kind, do you ascribe to him who is God? For he is altogether unchangeable.

2. But let him who can grasp this, grasp it. Let us, however, walking cautiously and simply in the exposition of the sacred and mystical utterance, follow the custom of Scripture, which speaks wisdom hidden in mystery with our words; which, while it uses figures, insinuates God through our affections; which, by known likenesses of sensible things, as if by certain cups of cheaper material, pours forth to human minds those things which are precious, unknown, and invisible of God. Let us therefore follow also the custom of the chaste utterance, and say that the Word of God, God the Bridegroom of the soul, both comes to the soul as he wills and again leaves her: provided only that we perceive these things to happen by the perception of the soul, not by any motion of the Word. For example, when she perceives grace, she recognizes his presence: when she does not, she laments his absence, and again seeks his presence, saying with the Prophet: "My face has sought you; your face, O Lord, I will seek" (Ps 26:8). Why should she not seek? For indeed, with so sweet a Bridegroom withdrawn from her, she will not in the meantime care — I do not say to desire, but not even to think of — anything else. It remains therefore that she diligently seek the absent one, and call back the departing one. Thus then the Word is called back, and called back by the desire of the soul, but of that soul to which he has once granted the sweetness of himself. Is not desire a voice? And a powerful one. Indeed: "The desire of the poor the Lord has heard" (Ps 9:17). Therefore, as the Word departs, the one continuous voice of the soul in the meantime is its continuous desire for him, as one continuous "Return," until he comes.

3. And now give me a soul which the Word the Bridegroom is accustomed to visit frequently, to which familiarity has given boldness, tasting has given hunger, contempt of all things has given leisure: and I will unhesitatingly assign to this soul alike the voice and the name of bride; nor will I at all judge the passage which is in hand to be alien from her. For such a one is presented here as speaking. For she who calls him back proves without doubt that she has deserved his presence, even if not his abundance. Otherwise she would not have called him back, but called him. Moreover the word of calling back is "return." And perhaps he withdrew himself for this reason, that he might be called back more eagerly, and held more firmly. For he also once pretended to go further, not because he wished this, but because he wished to hear: "Stay with us, Lord, because it is growing toward evening" (Lk 24:28-29). And again on another occasion, walking upon the sea, while the apostles were sailing and laboring at the oars, as though wishing to pass them by, not even then did he wish this, but rather to test their faith and to draw forth their prayer. Indeed, as the evangelist says: "They were troubled, and cried out, thinking it to be a phantom" (Mk 6:48-49). Therefore this kind of pious pretense, or rather saving dispensation, which the Word in the body then exhibited bodily from time to time, the Word as spirit does not cease to carry out continually in its own spiritual manner with the soul devoted to him. Passing by, he wills to be held; going away, he wills to be called back. For this is not an irrevocable Word. He goes, and returns according to his good pleasure, as if visiting at daybreak and suddenly testing. And his going is in a certain way dispensatory; but his returning is always voluntary: yet each is full of judgment. But the reason for these things rests with him.

4. Now truly it is established that such alternations of the Word going and returning happen in the soul, as he says: "I go, and I come to you" (Jn 14:28); likewise: "A little while, and you shall not see me; and again a little while, and you shall see me" (Jn 16:17). O little while and little while! O long little while! Good Lord, you call it a little while that we shall not see you? May the word of my Lord be safe: it is long, and exceedingly very much. Yet both are true: both a little while in respect of merits, and long in respect of desires. You have both in the prophet: "If he shall delay," he says, "wait for him, because coming he shall come, and shall not tarry" (Hab 2:3). How shall he not tarry, if he shall delay, unless because what is sufficient for merit is not sufficient for desire? Moreover, the loving soul is carried by desires, drawn by longings, disregards merits, closes its eyes to majesty, opens them to delight, resting in the Savior and acting confidently in him. Fearless, then, and unabashed, she calls back the Word, and with confidence claims again her delights, with her accustomed freedom calling him not Lord, but beloved: "Return, my beloved": and she adds: "Be like a gazelle, and a young hart upon the mountains of Bethel." But of this later.

5. Now indeed bear with a little of my foolishness. I wish to tell, for I have agreed to this, how it goes with me in such matters. It is not expedient indeed. But let me be exposed so that I may be of use: and, if you shall profit, I will console my foolishness; if not, I will confess my foolishness. I confess that the Word has come to me also — I speak in foolishness — and many times. And although he has entered into me quite often, I did not at certain times perceive when he entered. I perceived that he was present, I remember that he had been present, sometimes I was even able to have a presentiment of his entering, but never to perceive it, nor indeed even his departure. For whence he came into my soul, or whither he went again when leaving it; but also by what way he either entered or departed; even now I confess that I do not know, according to that saying: "You do not know whence he comes, or whither he goes" (Jn 3:8). Nor is it a wonder, for he is the one to whom it was said: "And your footsteps shall not be known" (Ps 76:20). Certainly he did not enter through the eyes, because he is not colored; nor through the ears, because he made no sound; nor through the nostrils, because he is not mixed with the air, but with the mind; nor did he taint the air, but made it; nor indeed through the mouth, because he is not chewed or drunk; nor did I find him by touch, because he is not palpable. By what way then did he enter? Or perhaps he did not even enter, because he did not come from outside? For he is not some one thing from among those things which are outside. Yet neither did he come from within me, since he is good, and I know that there is no good in me. I ascended also above my higher part: and behold, the Word was towering above this. To my lower part also I descended as a curious explorer; and no less was he found below. If I looked outward, beyond all that is outside of me I found him to be; if inward, he was more inward still. And I knew that what I had read was true, that in him we live, and move, and are (Acts 17:28): but blessed is he in whom he is, who lives for him, who is moved by him.

6. You ask then, since his ways are thus altogether unsearchable, how I know that he is present? He is living and efficacious: and as soon as he came within, he awakened my drowsing soul; he moved, and softened, and wounded my heart, for it was hard and stony and diseased. He began also to pluck up and to destroy, to build and to plant, to water what was dry, to illuminate what was dark, to open what was closed, to inflame what was cold, and also to make the crooked straight and the rough into smooth ways; so that my soul blessed the Lord, and all that is within me blessed his holy name. Thus, then, as the Word the Bridegroom entered into me from time to time, he never made his entrance known by any signs, not by voice, not by appearance, not by step. By none of his movements, finally, was he discovered by me, by none of my senses did he slip into my inmost parts: only from the movement of my heart, as I said above, did I understand his presence; and from the flight of vices, and the suppression of carnal affections, I perceived the power of his virtue; and from the examination or reproof of my hidden things I marveled at the depth of his wisdom; and from whatever small amendment of my ways I experienced the goodness of his gentleness; and from the renewal and reformation of the spirit of my mind, that is, of my inner man, I perceived in some measure the beauty of his comeliness; and from the contemplation of all these things together I was struck with awe at the multitude of his greatness.

7. But because all these things, when the Word has withdrawn, begin at once to lie languid and cold and torpid, just as if you had taken the fire away from a boiling pot; and this is for me the sign of his departure — my soul must needs be sad until he returns again, and my heart grows warm within me as is its custom; and let this be the sign of his return. Having then such experience of the Word, what wonder if I too take up for myself the voice of the bride in calling him back, when he has absented himself, who am carried, if not by an equal, yet by a similar desire at least in part? It will be familiar to me, as long as I live, for the calling back of the Word, that word of calling back which is "return." And as often as he shall slip away, so often shall it be repeated by me; nor will I cease to cry out as if after one going away, with the burning desire of my heart, that he return, and restore to me the joy of his salvation, restore to me himself. I confess to you, sons, nothing else in the meantime is pleasing, while that which alone is pleasing is not at hand. And this I pray, that he come not empty, but full of grace and truth (Jn 1:14): in his custom surely, as yesterday and the day before. In which the likeness of the gazelle and the young hart seems to me to be able to be exhibited, since truth has the eyes of a gazelle, and grace the gladness of a young hart.

8. Each thing is necessary to me: both truth, from which I cannot be hidden; and grace, from which I would not wish to be. Otherwise, without either one the visitation will not be full, since the severity of the one without the other can seem burdensome, and the cheerfulness of the other without the one can seem dissolute. Bitter is truth without the seasoning of grace; just as without the bridle of truth, devotion itself is light and lacking in measure, and often even insolent. How many it has not profited to have received grace, for this reason, that they did not equally receive the tempering of truth! For from this they were pleased with themselves more than was fitting, while they did not fear the gaze of truth, while they did not look to the gravity of the gazelle, but rather gave themselves over entirely to the lightness and cheerfulness of the young hart. From this it came about that they were deprived of that grace in which they had wished to exult privately, to whom it could be said, even if too late: "Go therefore and learn what this means: Serve the Lord in fear, and exult before him with trembling" (Ps 2:11). For a certain holy soul had said in her abundance, "I shall never be moved": when suddenly she perceived the face of the Word turned away from her, and herself not only moved, but even troubled (Ps 29:7-8); and so in sadness she learned that she had needed, together with the gift of devotion, also the weight of truth. Therefore the fullness of grace is not in grace alone, but neither is it in truth alone. What does it profit to know what you ought to do, if the will to do it is not also given? What, if you will indeed, but are in no way able? How many I have known to be made sadder by truth once recognized, and all the more so because it was no longer permitted to flee to the excuse of ignorance, knowing, and not doing, what Truth was urging!

9. Since these things are so, neither without the other suffices. I have said too little: neither is it even expedient. Whence do we know this? "To him who knows the good," he says, "and does it not, it is sin for him" (Jas 4:17); likewise: "The servant knowing the will of his master, and not doing what is worthy, shall be beaten with many stripes" (Lk 12:47). But this is for the part of truth. For the part of grace, what? It is written: "And after the morsel Satan entered into him" (Jn 13:27). He speaks of Judas, who, having received the gift of grace, because he did not walk in truth with the Master of truth, or rather with the mistress Truth, gave place in himself to the devil. Hear further: "He fed them with the fat of wheat, and from the rock with honey he satisfied them." Whom? "The enemies of the Lord lied to him" (Ps 80:17-16). Those whom he fed with honey and fat, these lied to him, having become enemies; because they did not join truth to grace. Of whom you have elsewhere: "Strange children lied to me; strange children grew old, and limped from their paths" (Ps 17:46). Why would they not limp, being content with the one foot of grace, and not adding truth? "Their time therefore shall be forever" (Ps 80:16), just as also their prince's, who himself also did not stand in the truth, but was a liar from the beginning (Jn 8:44), and therefore heard: "You have destroyed your wisdom in your beauty" (Ezek 28:17). I do not want a beauty that takes my wisdom from me.

10. You ask who that beauty is, so harmful and so pernicious? Your own. Perhaps you are still without understanding? Hear more plainly. Private, one's own. We do not blame the gift, but the use. Indeed, if you have noticed, not in beauty, but in his own beauty was he said to have lost his wisdom. And, if I am not mistaken, the one beauty of angel and soul is wisdom itself. For what is either this one or that one without wisdom, if not rude and deformed matter? By it, then, he was not only formed, but also beautiful. But he lost it when he made it his own: so that to have lost wisdom in his beauty is nothing other than to have lost wisdom in his own wisdom. Ownership is the cause. That he was wise for himself, that he did not give glory to God, that he did not return grace for grace, that he did not walk according to truth in it, but bent it back to his own will: this is why he lost it; indeed this is what it means to have lost it. For to have in this way is to have lost. "And if Abraham," he says, "was justified by works, he has glory, but not before God" (Rom 4:2). And I: not I in safety, I say. I have lost whatever I have not before God. For what is so lost as what is exiled outside God? What is death, but the privation of life? So perdition is nothing but alienation from God. "Woe to you who are wise in your own eyes, and prudent before your own faces!" (Isa 5:21.) Of you it is said: "I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the prudence of the prudent I will reject" (1 Cor 1:19). They have lost wisdom, because their own wisdom has destroyed them. What have they not lost, who are themselves also lost? Or are they truly not lost, whom God does not know?

11. Moreover the foolish virgins, whom I think to be foolish for no other reason than that, calling themselves wise, they became fools; these, I say, shall hear from God: "I know you not" (Mt 25:12). And likewise those who usurped the grace of miracles for their own glory shall no less hear, that "I do not know you" (Mt 7:23): so that it may be clearly evident from these things that grace does not profit where truth is not in the intention; but rather harms. And indeed both things rest with the Bridegroom. Indeed: "Grace and truth came through Jesus Christ," says John the Baptist (Jn 1:17). If therefore with one or the other of these without the other the Lord Jesus Christ shall have knocked at my door (for he is the Word of God, the Bridegroom of the soul), he will enter indeed not as Bridegroom, but as judge. Far be it; let this by no means happen! Let him not enter into judgment with his servant. Let him enter as the peaceful one, let him enter joyful and cheerful: yet let him enter grave and serious, who by a certain sterner countenance of truth may, while he suppresses insolence, purge my gladness. Let him enter as a young hart leaping, as a gazelle looking keenly about, who by overlooking fault may leap past it, and by having compassion may look upon punishment. Let him enter as if descending from the mountains of Bethel, festive and splendid, and as if proceeding from the Father, gentle and mild, who does not disdain to be called and to become the Bridegroom of the soul that seeks him, since he is God blessed above all things forever. Amen.

With the barren synagogue abandoned, she asks the bridegroom to come to those downtrodden and humiliated and formerly idolatrous souls who will be raised with him to heavenly heights.

He pastures his flocks among the lilies, therefore, although he does so only until the coming day emerges and the shadows begin to move on. Since the majority of people think that the events which are passing and not stable are fixed and will remain, because their faculty of discernment is obscured by the darkness of ignorance, they have need of the daylight in order to see that the shadows of the things of this world dissipate and have no permanence. For all present realities are shadows, drawing their origin from the good things of the heavens yet subsisting like shadows, only resembling the truth of the things there above. But once the night has passed and the dawn has arisen, the nature of things from on high is clearly seen, as if in sunlight. Then people realize: "Our life on the earth is a shadow." Then they say, "My days, as the shadow, are in decline," indicating how feeble and quick to vanish is temporal success. The one who says, "If there are many gods and many lords, yet for us there is only one God the Father, from whom all things come and for whom we exist, and one Lord Jesus Christ through whom all things come and through whom we exist," can also say, "My beloved is mine, and I am his," for the meaning is identical in each text. For anyone who renounces both gods and lords lays claim to the one God and Lord, from whom he exists and to whom he returns. "For," it says, "for us there is one God from whom all things come and for whom we exist," thus declaring clearly that "he is mine, and I am his." …Regarding the expression "the shadows move on," it is necessary to consider … that it refers to the abrogation of the works of the law. That is the shadow frequently cited by Paul as "the law having the shadow of good things to come and not the very image of the realities," and again "These are only a shadow of the things to come, but the substance is of Christ," and again, "They provide a copy and a shadow of the heavenly realities," meaning the priests that functioned according to the law. Thus it is indicated for certain that, the shadow of the law having moved on, the truth of grace now governs, established upon the rock against which "the gates of hell shall never prevail." … It should also be remarked that it is everywhere necessary for the Word to rest upon the mountains, or at least upon the hills. And if the Word is ever found in the valleys or chasms, he is found there by reason of his great condescension and with the intention to restore those who are down there to the higher realities, on account of his love for humankind.

The day will then breathe, and the shadows will decline, when eternal life appears and the present life comes to an end. For that will be day, but here is night; because here we are dim in our vision, but there the day itself, which is the whole truth, will shine forth to our minds. Toward this day souls earnestly strive to arrive; for its sake they preserve justice unstained as much as they can; and because without Christ they can do nothing, they invoke his help and desire his intimacy. While he considers their mind, he is near and kindly helps them, and the more they advance, the more intimately he always loves them, until, when the darkness of the world is ended, he leads them, now made perfect, to the light of eternal life. Because they greatly desire this light and believe it will be seen when the Lord comes to judgment, therefore with the greatest desire they say:

The Beloved departed from us bodily when after the resurrection he ascended into heaven. But he will return when, at the end of the world, with the bodies of men having been raised, he will be manifested to all in judgment. He will truly appear like a gazelle and a young stag, because coming in our flesh to judgment, he will show himself to all. For by the gazelle, which is a clean animal, the Church is designated, which while it dwells in mind among heavenly things, feeds as it were upon the mountains. And by the deer, what else is designated but the ancient fathers, from whose flesh Christ was born and presented to the world as a young stag? Now Bethel is interpreted as "house of God." Which is rightly called the Church of God, because the Lord dwells in it, while our hearts are cleansed through faith. Therefore upon the mountains of Bethel he will appear like a gazelle and a young stag, because he will come to judgment in that form of humanity which he took from the Church, when in this world he was born humbly from the lineage of the fathers, like a fawn from deer. He will truly appear both like a gazelle and upon the mountains of Bethel, because in his human form he will be like the Church, and yet he will stand forth more sublimely in the Church above even the highest ones, who rise up like mountains.