Bernard of Clairvaux, Sermons on the Saints

into His lips, and He is beautiful in form above the sons of men, nay, even above all the glory of the angels. Rejoice and give thanks, Mary, you who have chosen the best part. For blessed are the eyes that see what you see, and the ears that are found worthy to hear what you hear. Blessed indeed are you who catch the veins of the divine whisper in silence, in which it is surely good for a man to wait for the Lord. Be simple, not only without guile and pretence, but also without a multiplicity of occupations, that His converse may be with you Whose voice is sweet and Whose face is comely. One thing beware of: that you do not begin to abound in your own sense, and wish to be wiser than you ought to be wise; lest perhaps, while you pursue the light, you stumble into darkness, the noonday demon mocking you, of whom this is not the time to dispute. For where has Lazarus got to? where have you laid him? I speak to the sisters, who buried their brother by preaching and ministry, by example and prayer. Where then have you laid him? He is hidden in the dug earth, he lies under a stone, he is not easily found. Therefore it will not be unfitting to keep a fourth sermon for the four-days dead, so that, according to the Saviour's example, hearing: Behold, he whom You love is sick (John 11:3), we too may stay here this day.

SERMON IV. On the four days of Lazarus, and the praise of the Virgin.

It is a time for all flesh to speak, when the mother of the incarnate Word is taken up into heaven; nor ought human mortality to cease from praises, when in the Virgin the nature of man alone is exalted above the immortal spirits. But devotion does not suffer us to be silent about her glory, nor can barren thought conceive, or unlearned speech bring forth, anything worthy of it. Hence it is that even the princes of the heavenly court themselves, in considering so great a novelty, cry out not without wonder: Who is she that comes up from the desert, flowing with delights? (Song 8:5) As if they said more plainly: How great is she? or whence to her, coming up indeed from the desert, so great an abundance of delights? For equal delights are not found even in us, whom the stream of the river gladdens in the city of the Lord, who drink from the face of glory of the torrent of pleasure [another reading: of glory]. Who is she that comes up from under the sun, where there is nothing but toil and grief and affliction of spirit, flowing with spiritual delights? Why should I not call them delights: the beauty of virginity with the gift of fruitfulness, the badge of humility, the dripping honeycomb of charity, the bowels of mercy, the fullness of grace, the privilege of singular glory? Coming up, then, from the desert, the queen of the world has become, even to the holy angels, as the Church sings, beautiful and sweet in her delights. Yet let them cease to wonder at the delights of this desert, for the Lord has given goodness, and our land has given its fruit (Ps. 84:13). Why do they wonder that Mary comes up from the desert land flowing with delights? Let them rather wonder at Christ coming down poor from the fullness of the heavenly kingdom. For it seems worthy of a far greater wonder that the Son of God should be made a little lower than the angels than that the mother of God should be exalted above the angels. For His

emptying has become our filling: His miseries are the delights of the world. In short, though He was rich, for our sakes He became poor, that by His poverty we might be enriched (2 Cor. 8:9). And the ignominy of the cross too has become the glory of believers.

2. But our Life still hastens to the tomb, to bring back the four-days dead from the tomb: and He seeks Lazarus, of whom a sermon is owed to you today (if your charity remembers well), that He may be sought and found by Lazarus. For herein is charity, not as though we had loved God, but because He first loved us. Come then, Lord, seek him whom Thou lovest, that Thou mayest make him both loving and seeking. Seek where they have laid him: for he lies shut in, bound, weighed down. He lies in the prison of conscience, he is held by the bonds of discipline, and, as if by a stone laid upon him, he is pressed and crushed by the burden of penitence, most of all because meanwhile there is lacking love strong as death, and charity that bears all things; and in all these things he already stinks, Lord: for he is four days dead. I believe the minds of many are already flying ahead, so that they understand whom I mean by Lazarus: him, without doubt, who, lately dead in sin, digs through the wall for himself, to see the many abominations (Ezek. 8:8–9), and the evil ones of his own perverse and inscrutable heart, and, according to another prophet, has entered into the rock, hidden in the dug earth from the face of the Lord's fury (Isa. 2:10).

3. But what does it mean: Lord, by now he stinks; for he is four days dead? For perhaps not everyone at once understands this stench and these four days. I think the first is the day of fear, in which, as it shines upon our hearts, we die to sin and are in a manner buried in our consciences. The second, unless I am mistaken, is spent in the toil of combat. For at the beginnings of conversion the temptation of evil habit is wont to rise up more fiercely, and the fiery darts of the devil can scarcely be quenched. The third, likewise, seems to be the day of grief; when a man thinks over his years in the bitterness of his soul, and labours not so much in avoiding things to come as he laments, bewailing, things past. Do you wonder that I have called these days? But such are owed to a burial: days of cloud and darkness, days of mourning and bitterness. There follows the day of shame, not unlike the three: when the pitiable soul is now covered with dreadful confusion, while it considers too much what and how great its sins were, and turns over in the eyes of the heart the [foul] images of its sins. A mind of this kind conceals nothing, but judges, but aggravates, but exaggerates everything: a harsh judge against itself, it does not spare itself. A useful exasperation indeed, and a cruelty worthy of pity, easily winning divine grace for itself, while the mind is zealous for Him even against itself. Nevertheless, Lazarus, come forth, lest you linger longer in so great a stench. Rotting flesh is next to putrefaction; and one who is too vehemently confounded and wastes away is near to despair. Therefore, Lazarus, come forth. Deep calls to deep: the deep of light and mercy to the deep of misery and darkness. His goodness is greater than your iniquity: and where sin abounds,

He makes grace to abound beyond. Lazarus, He says, come forth (John 11:39, 43). As if He said more plainly: How long does the darkness of your conscience hold you back? how long will you be pierced with a heavy heart upon your bed? Come forth, go out, breathe again into the light of My mercies. For this is what you have read in the prophet: I will bridle your mouth with My praise, lest you perish (Isa. 48:9). And another prophet more plainly of himself: My soul, he says, is troubled within me; therefore I will remember Thee (Ps. 41:7).

But now what does it mean that He says: Take away the stone, and a little after, loose him? (John 11:39, 44) Will he, after the visitation of consoling grace, cease to do penance, because the kingdom of heaven has drawn near; or will he cast off discipline, lest perhaps the Lord be angry and he perish from the just way? Far be it! Let the stone be taken away, but let penitence remain, no longer pressing and weighing down, but rather strengthening and confirming a lively and robust mind: that is, one whose food is, as before it did not know, to do the will of the Lord. So too discipline no longer constrains the free man, according to that saying: The law is not laid down for the just (1 Tim. 1:9); but it rules the willing man and directs him into the way of peace. Concerning this raising of Lazarus the prophet sings more plainly: Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell; for, as I remember saying on the second day of this festival, a guilty conscience is a kind of hell and prison of the soul. Nor wilt Thou give Thy holy one (not his own, but surely Thine, whom Thou Thyself dost sanctify) to see corruption. For the four-days dead, who had already begun to stink, was next to corruption. He was near to being utterly dissolved and, coming into the depth of evils, to despising as a wicked man; but forestalled by the voice of power, and given life by it, he gives thanks, saying: Thou hast made known to me the ways of life, Thou wilt fill me with joy with Thy countenance (Ps. 15:10–11). For to the contemplation of it Thou hast called forth and led out my soul from hell: while my spirit was in anguish within me, beholding the all too abominable face of my own conscience. He cried, it says, with a loud voice: Lazarus, come forth; with a loud voice indeed, not so much clamorous in sound as magnificent in loving-kindness and power.

But where have we come to? Were we not following the Virgin as she went above the heavens? And behold, we have gone down with Lazarus into the abyss. From the splendour of virtue our discourse runs headlong down to the stench of the four-days dead. Why this, unless because we were carried by our own weight; and the matter drew us, the more abundant indeed as it was the more familiar? I confess my unskilfulness; I do not hide my own faint-heartedness. There is nothing indeed that delights me more, but nothing either that frightens me more, than to speak of the glory of the Virgin mother. For, to say nothing for the present of the ineffable privilege of her merits and her wholly singular prerogative, all embrace, honour and receive her, as is fitting, with such affection of devotion that, although all long to speak of her, yet whatever is said of the unspeakable, by the very fact that it could be said, is less welcome, less pleasing, less accepted. Why should it not

savour less, whatever the human mind has been able to comprehend of a glory beyond comprehension? For behold, if I praise virginity in her, many virgins after her seem to present themselves to me. If I proclaim her humility, there will be found perhaps even a few who, taught by her Son, have become meek and humble of heart (Matt. 11:29). If I wish to magnify the multitude of her mercy, there are some men of mercy, and women too. There is one thing in which she has been seen to have neither a first like her nor any to follow, having the joys of a mother together with the honour of virginity. Mary, He says, has chosen for herself the best part (Luke 10:42). The best indeed, because conjugal fruitfulness is good, but virginal chastity better; and best of all is virginal fruitfulness, or fruitful virginity. It is Mary's privilege, it will not be given to another, for it will not be taken from her. It is singular, but at once it is found to be unspeakable as well, so that as no one can attain it, so no one can even express it. What if you add this too: whose mother? What tongue, even were it angelic, will now be able to extol with worthy praises the Virgin mother; and mother not of anyone at all, but of God? A twofold novelty, a twofold prerogative: a twofold miracle, but fitting altogether worthily and most aptly. For neither did another son befit a virgin, nor another birth befit God.

Yet if you attend carefully, you will find not this alone, but the other virtues too, which seemed to be common, altogether singular in Mary. For what purity, even angelic, would dare to be compared with that virginity which was worthy to become the sanctuary of the Holy Spirit and the dwelling of the Son of God? If we weigh the value of things by their rarity, she who first on earth purposed to lead the angelic life is above all. How, she says, shall this be done? since I know not man. Unmovable purpose of virginity, which did not waver in the least even when an angel promised a son. How, she says, shall this be done? For not in the way in which it is wont to be done in others. I know not man at all, neither from desire of a son nor from hope of offspring.

But how great and how precious is the virtue of humility together with such purity, with innocence so great, with a conscience wholly without fault, nay, with such fullness of grace? Whence comes humility to you, and such humility, O blessed one? Worthy indeed that the Lord should look upon you, whose beauty the King should desire, by whose most sweet fragrance He should be drawn from that eternal resting place of the Father's bosom. For see how plainly the canticle of our Virgin and the marriage song agree together: hers, that is, whose womb was the Bridegroom's chamber. Hear Mary in the Gospel: He has regarded, she says, the humility of His handmaid (Luke 1:34, 48). Hear the same in the wedding song: While the king was at his resting place, she says, my nard gave forth its fragrance (Song 1:11). For nard is a lowly herb, and purges the breast: so that it is plain that humility is signified by the name of nard, whose fragrance and beauty found favour with God.

Let him be silent about your mercy, blessed Virgin, if there is anyone who remembers that you, when called upon in his needs, failed him. We indeed, your little servants,

in your other virtues we rejoice with you, but in this one rather with ourselves. We praise your virginity, we marvel at your humility; but mercy tastes sweeter to the wretched: mercy we embrace more dearly, recall more often, invoke more frequently. For it is she who obtained the restoration of the whole world, who won the salvation of all. For it is plain that she was solicitous for the whole human race, she to whom it was said: Fear not, Mary, you have found grace (Luke 1:30), that is, the grace you were seeking. Who then, O blessed one, could search out the length and the breadth, the height and the depth of your mercy? For its length succours all who call upon it, even to the last day. Its breadth fills the whole world, so that the whole earth too is full of your mercy. So too its height has found the restoration of the city above, and its depth has obtained redemption for those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. For through you heaven has been filled, hell emptied, the ruins

SUNDAY WITHIN THE OCTAVE OF THE ASSUMPTION OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY. SERMON

On the twelve prerogatives of the Blessed Virgin Mary, from the words of the Apocalypse (Rev. 12:1): "A great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars."

1. One man, dearest brethren, and one woman did us grave harm; but, thanks be to God, through one man likewise, and one woman, all things are restored; nor without a great interest of graces. For the gift is not as the offence; rather the greatness of the benefit exceeds the reckoning of the loss. So indeed the most prudent and most merciful craftsman did not break what had been shattered, but rather mended it to better purpose, so as, namely, to fashion for us a new Adam out of the old, and to pour Eve over into Mary. And indeed Christ alone could have sufficed; since even now all our sufficiency is from Him; but it was not good for us that the man alone should be. It was more fitting that both sexes should be present at our restoration, since neither had been wanting to its corruption. Faithful indeed and all-powerful mediator of God and men is the man Christ Jesus, but men revere in Him the divine majesty. The humanity seems swallowed up into the deity, not because its substance is changed, but because its affection is deified. Not mercy alone is sung of Him, judgement too is sung along with it (Ps. 100:1); because, although He learned compassion from what He suffered, that He might become merciful, He has nevertheless also judicial power. In the end, our God is a consuming fire (Deut. 4:24; Heb. 12:29). How should the sinner not fear to draw near, lest, as wax melts before the face of fire, so he himself perish before the face of God?

2. And so now the woman blessed among women will not seem idle either: her place too will be found in this reconciliation. For there is need of a mediator to this Mediator, nor is any other more useful to us than Mary. Too cruel a mediatrix was Eve, through whom the ancient serpent poured his pestilent poison even into the man himself; but faithful Mary, who held out the antidote of salvation

of the heavenly Jerusalem restored, and the life that was lost given to the wretched who were waiting. So this most mighty and most loving charity abounds both in the affection of compassion and in the effect of succour, equally rich in both.

9. To this fountain, then, let our thirsting soul hasten; to this heap of mercy let our misery run back with all solicitude. See, with such prayers as we could, we have escorted you as you ascended to your Son, and have followed you at least from afar, O blessed Virgin. Let it be for your loving-kindness henceforth to make known to the world the very grace that you found with God, obtaining by your holy prayers pardon for the guilty, healing for the sick, strength for the faint of heart, consolation for the afflicted, help and deliverance for those in peril. On this day too of solemnity and gladness, through you, O clement queen, may Jesus Christ your Son, our Lord, Who is over all things God blessed for ever, bestow the gifts of His grace upon the little servants who call with praise upon the most sweet name of Mary. Amen.

to men and to women alike. For the one was the minister of seduction, the other of propitiation: the one suggested transgression, the other brought in redemption. Why should human frailty tremble to approach Mary? Nothing austere is in her, nothing terrible: she is wholly gentle, offering milk and wool to all. Turn over more carefully the whole course of the gospel history: and if you should chance upon anything reproachful, anything harsh, if finally any sign even of slight displeasure occurs in Mary, hold her thereafter suspect, and fear to approach. But if, as indeed they are, you find all things concerning her rather full of piety and grace, full of gentleness and mercy, then give thanks to Him Who provided for you, by His most kindly compassion, so fit a mediatrix, in whom nothing can be held suspect. In the end, she has been made all things to all, and by her most abundant charity has made herself a debtor to the wise and the unwise alike. To all she opens the bosom of mercy, that of her fulness all may receive: the captive redemption, the sick healing, the sorrowful consolation, the sinner pardon, the just man grace, the angel gladness, and finally the whole Trinity glory, the person of the Son the substance of human flesh; so that there is none who may hide himself from her warmth.

3. Do you suppose she herself is the woman clothed with the sun? Granted, indeed, that the sequence of the prophetic vision itself shows that this is to be understood of the Church as she now is; yet plainly it seems not unfitting that it be attributed to Mary as well. For she it is, no doubt, who has put on, as it were, another sun. For as that sun rises indifferently upon the good and the evil, so she too does not examine past deserts; but shows herself open to entreaty by all, most clement to all, and pities the needs of all with a certain most ample

affection. For every defect is beneath her; and whatever there is of frailty or corruption, she exceeds and passes beyond it by a certain most excellent loftiness, above all other creatures, so that rightly the moon is said to be beneath her feet. Otherwise we should seem to have said nothing great, that this moon should be beneath her feet, whom it is wrong to doubt exalted above all the choirs of angels, above the cherubim too and the seraphim. Now the moon is wont to signify not only the defect of corruption, but also folly of mind, and sometimes too the Church of this present time: the former indeed on account of its changeableness, the latter surely on account of a splendour received from elsewhere. Either moon, then, if I may so put it, is fittingly enough placed beneath Mary's feet, yet in one way and in another: since the fool is changed like the moon, but the wise man abides like the sun (Sir. 27:12). In the sun, to be sure, are both heat and a stable splendour; in the moon splendour alone, and that entirely changeable and uncertain, which never abides in the same state. Rightly, then, is Mary said to be clothed with the sun, who penetrated, beyond what can be believed, the most profound abyss of the divine wisdom: so that, so far as the condition of a creature suffers without personal union, she seems immersed in that inaccessible light. By that fire, to be sure, the lips of the prophet are purified (Isa. 6:7), by that fire the seraphim are set aflame. But far otherwise did Mary merit, not as it were to be touched summarily, but rather to be covered on every side, and encompassed round about, and, as it were, enclosed by the very fire itself. Most white indeed, but also most fervent, is the mantle of this woman: all of whose parts are known to be so excellently irradiated, that in her one may suspect nothing, I do not say dark, but not even somewhat dim, or less than luminous, nor even anything lukewarm, or not most burning.

4. All folly, indeed, is far beneath her feet, so that she is wholly removed from the number of foolish women, and from the company of the foolish virgins. Nay rather, that one fool, and prince of all folly, who, truly changed like the moon, lost wisdom in his own comeliness, trampled and crushed beneath Mary's feet, suffers a wretched servitude. For she it is, without doubt, the woman once promised by God, who was to crush the head of the ancient serpent with the foot of her power: whose heel indeed he lay in wait for with many wiles (Gen. 3:15), but in vain. For she alone has crushed the whole of heretical depravity. One dogmatized that Christ had not been brought forth from the substance of her flesh; another hissed that she had not borne, but only found, the little child; another blasphemed that, even after the birth, she had been known by a man; another, unable to bear to hear [her called] the Mother of God, most impiously reviled that great name Theotokos. But the plotters have been crushed, the underminers trampled, the detractors confuted, and all generations call her blessed. Finally, straightway through Herod the dragon also lay in wait for her as she bore, that, seizing the newborn son, he might devour Him, because there were enmities between the seed of the woman and of the dragon.

5. Now if the Church seems rather to be understood by the name of the moon, namely because she does not shine of herself,

but from Him Who says, Without me you can do nothing (John 15:5); then you have the mediatrix, whom we commended to you a little before, clearly set forth. A woman, it says, clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet. Let us embrace Mary's footsteps, my brothers, and with most devoted supplication cast ourselves down at her blessed feet. Let us hold her, and not let her go until she has blessed us: for she is powerful. For indeed the fleece is set midway between the dew and the threshing-floor, the woman between the sun and the moon, Mary between Christ and the Church. But perhaps you marvel not so much at the fleece covered with dew, as at the woman clothed with the sun. Great indeed is the familiarity, but altogether wonderful the nearness, of the sun and the woman. For how does so frail a nature endure in so violent a heat? Rightly indeed do you marvel, holy Moses, and desire the more curiously to look closer. Yet loose the shoes from your feet, and lay aside the wrappings of carnal thoughts, if you long to draw near. I will go, it says, and see this great vision (Exod. 3:3). A great vision indeed, a bush burning without being consumed; a great sign, a woman remaining unharmed while clothed with the sun. It is not the nature of a bramble-bush, covered on every side with flames, to remain unburnt nonetheless; nor is it in the power of a woman to sustain the sun's mantle. It is not of human power, nor even of angelic: something loftier is needed. The Holy Spirit, it says, shall come upon you. And as though she had answered: Since God is spirit, and our God is a consuming fire: The power, he says, not mine, not yours, but of the Most High shall overshadow you (Luke 1:35). Nothing, then, is to be wondered at, if under such an overshadowing such a mantle is sustained.

6. A woman, it says, clothed with the sun. Clothed plainly with light as with a garment. Perhaps the carnal man does not perceive this: it is, no doubt, a spiritual thing, and seems to him folly. So will it not seem to the Apostle, who said: Put on the Lord Jesus Christ (Rom. 13:14). How familiar you were made to Him, O Lady! how close, nay, how intimate you deserved to become, how great the grace you found with Him! He abides in you, and you in Him; and you clothe Him, and are clothed by Him. You clothe Him with the substance of flesh, and He clothes you with the glory of His majesty. You clothe the sun with a cloud, and are yourself clothed with the sun. For the Lord has done a new thing upon the earth, that a woman should encompass a man (Jer. 31:22), and none other than Christ, of Whom it is said: Behold the man, the Orient is His name (Zech. 6:12). He has also done a new thing in heaven, that a woman should appear clothed with the sun. Finally, she both crowned Him, and in her turn deserved to be crowned by Him. Go forth, daughters of Sion, and behold king Solomon in the diadem wherewith his mother crowned him (Song 3:11). But this, elsewhere. For the present, rather go in and behold the queen in the diadem wherewith her Son crowned her.

7. On her head, it says, a crown of twelve stars. Worthy indeed to be crowned with stars is that head, which, shining far more brightly than the stars themselves, adorns them rather than is adorned by them. Why should not the stars crown her whom the sun clothes? As in the days of spring, it says, roses and lilies of the valley surrounded her (Sir. 50:8). To be sure,

the Bridegroom's left hand is under her head, and now His right hand embraces her (Song 2:6). Who could set a price on those gems? who could name the stars of which Mary's royal diadem is compacted? It is beyond man to expound the reckoning of this crown, to declare its composition. We, however, according to the measure of our littleness, refraining from perilous scrutiny of hidden things, may perhaps not unfittingly seem to understand these twelve stars as the twelve prerogatives of graces [or, may be able so to understand them], with which Mary is singularly adorned. For one may find in Mary prerogatives of heaven, prerogatives of the flesh, prerogatives of the heart: and if this set of three be multiplied by four, we have perhaps twelve stars, wherewith the diadem of our queen may shine forth before all. To me, indeed, a singular splendour gleams: first, in Mary's own generation; second, in the angelic salutation; third, in the coming of the Spirit; fourth, in the ineffable conception of the Son of God. So also in these a plainly starry glory shines forth, in that she was the very firstling of virginity, fruitful without corruption, pregnant without burden, a mother without pain. No less too, with a certain special splendour, there gleam in Mary the gentleness of modesty, the devotion of humility, the greatness of soul in belief, the martyrdom of the heart. It will indeed be for your diligence to look more carefully into each of these. For our part, meanwhile, we shall seem to have done enough, if we are able briefly to set them forth.

8. What starry thing, then, shines in Mary's generation? Plainly that she sprang from kings, that she was of the seed of Abraham, that she was noble of the stock of David. If that seems too little, add that she is known to have been granted by God to that lineage for a singular privilege of holiness; that she had long before been promised from heaven to those same patriarchs; that she had been prefigured by mystical wonders; that she had been foretold by prophetic oracles. For her the priestly rod prefigured, when it flowered without a root (Num. 17:8); her Gideon's fleece, when it was wet in the midst of the dry threshing-floor (Judg. 6:37–38); her, in Ezekiel's vision, the eastern gate, which never stood open to any (Ezek. 44:4, 2). Her, finally, before the rest Isaiah promised, now as the rod that should rise from the root of Jesse (Isa. 11:1), now more plainly as the virgin who should bring forth. Rightly is it written that this great sign appeared in heaven, seeing that it is known to have been promised from heaven so long before. The Lord says: He Himself shall give you a sign. Behold a virgin shall conceive (Isa. 7:14). A great sign indeed He gave, since great too was He Who gave it. Whose sight, then, is not powerfully struck by the splendour of this prerogative? Already in this, that she was saluted by the archangel so reverently and with such utter deference, that even then he seemed to behold her exalted upon a royal throne above all the ranks of the heavenly legions, and he who till then had been wont to be worshipped by men with equanimity was all but about to worship a woman; herein is commended to us the most excellent merit of our Virgin, and her singular grace.

9. No less also does that new manner of conception shine forth, in that Mary conceived not in iniquity, as

all others [do], but by the coming of the Holy Spirit; she alone conceived, and from sanctification alone. For that she bore the true God and the Son of God, so that that same one, son of God and of man, one altogether, God and man, should come forth from Mary, is an abyss of light: nor could I easily say that even the eye of an angel does not grow dim before the intensity of this splendour. For the rest, both the virginity of her flesh and her resolve of virginity are plainly set in light, above all, by the very novelty of that resolve itself: namely, that in freedom of spirit, transcending the decrees of the Mosaic law, she vowed to God an unblemished holiness of body and of spirit together. For she proves the inviolable foundation of her resolve, in that she answered so steadfastly the angel who was promising her a son: How shall this be, since I know not a man? (Luke 1:34) For perhaps she was troubled at first in his speech for this reason, and pondered of what sort this greeting might be, because she had heard herself called blessed among women, she who indeed always desired to be blessed among virgins. And then indeed she pondered of what sort this greeting (or, blessing) might be, because it now seemed suspect. But when, in the promise of a son, manifest peril to her virginity appeared, she could no longer dissemble, but had to say: How shall this be, since I know not a man? Rightly, accordingly, she both merited that first blessing, and did not lose this one; so that both virginity from fruitfulness, and fruitfulness from virginity, might become far more glorious, and these two stars might seem to shine upon each other with mutual rays. For it is a great thing to be a virgin; but to be a virgin mother is, in every way, far greater. Rightly too that most grievous distress, under which all other pregnant women are known to labour, she alone did not feel, who alone conceived without the pleasure of desire. Whence also, at the very beginning of her own conception, when other women especially are more wretchedly afflicted, Mary went up into the hill country with entire eagerness, that she might minister to Elisabeth. But she also went up to Bethlehem, with her childbearing now imminent, carrying that most precious deposit, carrying a light burden, carried by Him Whom she carried. So too in her childbearing, how radiant a thing it is that with new exultation she brought forth a new offspring, alone among women a stranger to the common curse and pain of those in labour. If we weigh the worth of things by their rarity, nothing can be found rarer than these. For in all these respects she has been seen to have neither an equal before her, nor to have one after her. From which things, if we consider them faithfully, we conceive without doubt admiration, but also veneration, but also devotion, but also consolation.

10. But there remain still other things, which call for imitation. It is not given us, before our birth, to be so manifoldly and in so many ways promised by God, and foretold from heaven; nor to be honoured by the archangel Gabriel with the homage of so new a salutation. But the other two things she shares with us less: that is plainly her own secret, hers alone. For she alone is she of whom it is said: That which is born in her is of the Holy Spirit (Matt. 1:20): she alone to whom it is said, The Holy One that shall be born of you shall be called the Son of God (Luke 1:35). Let virgins be offered to the king

but after her: for she alone claims the primacy for herself. Much more, indeed, did she alone conceive without corruption, carry without burden, bring forth her son without pain. And so none of these things is required of us; yet plainly something is required. For if there should be lacking in us also the gentleness of modesty, humility of heart, greatness of soul in faith, compassion of mind, will the singularity of her gifts excuse our negligence? A most pleasing gem indeed in the diadem, a star shining on the head, is the blush on the face of a modest man. But does anyone truly think that she lacked this grace, who was full of grace? Modest was Mary: this we prove from the Gospel. For where does she ever appear talkative, where presumptuous? She stood without, seeking to speak with her Son (Matt. 12:46), and neither by maternal authority did she interrupt His speech, nor burst into the dwelling where the Son was speaking. Indeed, throughout the whole text of the four Gospels, if we remember rightly, Mary is heard speaking only four times. First, indeed, to the angel, but only after he had already addressed her once and again: second, to Elisabeth, when the sound of her greeting made John leap in the womb, and, she magnifying Mary, Mary took care rather to magnify the Lord (Luke 1:34–55): third, to her Son, when He was already twelve years old, because she and His father, sorrowing, had sought Him (Luke 2:48): fourth, at the wedding, to her Son and to the servants (John 2:3, 5). And this speech indeed was a most certain token of her inborn gentleness, and of virginal modesty. For, counting the embarrassment of others as her own, she could not bear it, could not pass over in silence the failing of the wine. Indeed, when she was reproved by her Son, being meek and humble of heart, she neither answered Him, nor yet despaired, but admonished the servants to do what He should tell them.

11. Do we not read that from the beginning the shepherds came, and were the first of all to find Mary? They found, says the evangelist, Mary and Joseph, and the infant laid in a manger (Luke 2:16). So too the Magi, if you recall, found the child not without Mary his mother (Matt. 2:11); and she, bringing the Lord of the temple into the temple of the Lord, heard many things indeed from Simeon, both concerning Him and concerning herself (Luke 2:34–35), slow to speak, swift to hear. And indeed Mary kept all these words, pondering them in her heart (Luke 2:19, 51): but in all these you will find that she made no word whatsoever about the mystery of the Lord's incarnation itself. Woe to us, who have the spirit in our nostrils! Woe to those of us who pour out the whole of our spirit, who, according to that saying of the comic poet, overflow on every side, full of chinks (Terence, Eunuch, I, II, 25). So many times, then, did Mary hear her Son, not only speaking to the crowds in parables, but also revealing apart to the disciples the mysteries of the kingdom of God; she saw Him working miracles, saw Him afterward hanging on the cross, saw Him breathe His last, saw Him rise again, saw Him also ascend: yet in all these things, how often is the voice of that most modest virgin, of that most chaste turtledove, recorded as being heard? Finally, you read in the Acts of the Apostles, that on returning from the mount of Olives they persevered with one accord

in prayer. Who were they? If Mary chanced to be there, let her be named first, who is above all, both by the prerogative of her Son, and by the privilege of her own holiness. Peter and Andrew, it says, James and John, and the rest who follow. All these persevered with one mind, with the women, and Mary the mother of Jesus. Did she then show herself the last even of the women, so as to be placed lowest of all? Truly the disciples were still carnal, to whom the Spirit had not yet been given, because Jesus had not yet been glorified (John 7:39), when a contention arose among them about the primacy (Luke 22:24); while Mary, the greater she was, humbled herself not only among all, but before all. Rightly was the last made first, she who, though she was first of all, made herself last. Rightly was she made mistress of all, who showed herself the handmaid of all. Rightly, in the end, was she exalted above the angels, she who bowed herself down, with ineffable gentleness, even below widows and penitents, below her out of whom seven devils had been cast. I beseech you, little sons, emulate this virtue, if you love Mary; if you strive to please her, emulate her modesty. For nothing is so fitting for a man, nothing so suited to a Christian, and nothing befits a monk so much.

12. And indeed, in the Virgin, the virtue of humility shines forth clearly enough from this very gentleness. For humility and gentleness are foster-sisters, allied the more genuinely in Him Who said: Learn of me, for I am meek and humble of heart (Matt. 11:29). For as the mother of presumption is self-exaltation, so true gentleness proceeds only from true humility. Nor yet is Mary's humility commended by her silence alone, but it resounds more clearly still in her speech. She had heard: The Holy One that shall be born of you shall be called the Son of God, and answered nothing else than that she was His handmaid. Thence she came to Elisabeth, and straightway the Virgin's singular glory is revealed to her through the Spirit. She marvelled, indeed, at the coming of such a person, saying: Whence is this to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? She commended also the very sound of the greeting, adding: As soon as the voice of your salutation sounded in my ears, the infant leaped for joy in my womb: and she pronounced blessed the faith of the one who believed: Blessed, she said, are you who have believed, for those things shall be accomplished in you which were told you from the Lord. Great praises indeed; but she, devoted to humility, suffering nothing to be kept for herself, poured it all back rather upon Him Whose benefits towards her were being praised. You, she says, magnify the mother of the Lord: but my soul does magnify the Lord. You declare that the child leaped for joy at my voice: but my spirit has rejoiced in God my Saviour; and he too, as the friend of the bridegroom, rejoices with joy at the bridegroom's voice. You call her blessed who has believed; but the cause of that belief and blessedness is the regard of His heavenly loving-kindness, that all generations should call me blessed the more for this (Luke 1:35–48), because God has regarded His humble and lowly handmaid.

13. Yet do we think, brethren, that holy Elisabeth, in that she was speaking altogether through the Spirit,

erred. Far from it! Blessed plainly is she whom God regarded, and blessed is she who believed. For here stands forth a great fruit of the divine regard. By the ineffable working, indeed, of the Spirit coming upon her, so great a greatness of soul came to so great a humility, in the secret place of her virginal heart, that, just as we said before of her integrity and fruitfulness, these too likewise become stars the brighter by their mutual regard: namely, that neither does so great a humility lessen her greatness of soul, nor so great a greatness of soul lessen her humility: but though in her own estimation she was so humble, she was nonetheless great of soul in believing the promise, so that she who reckoned herself nothing other than a lowly handmaid did not for a moment doubt herself chosen for this incomprehensible mystery, for this wonderful exchange, for this unfathomable sacrament, and believed that she would soon become the true mother of God and of man. This, without doubt, the prerogative of divine grace works in the hearts of the elect, that neither does humility make them faint-hearted, nor greatness of soul make them arrogant; but rather the two work together for each other, so that not only does no self-exaltation creep in from that greatness of soul, but from it humility is rather most fostered: so that they are found the more fearful of God for it, and not ungrateful to the giver of the gifts; and, in turn, from the occasion of humility, no faint-heartedness steals in: but the less each is accustomed to presume upon his own powers even in the smallest things, the more, even in the greatest, may he trust in the divine power.

14. The martyrdom of the Virgin, indeed (which, if you remember, we named as the twelfth among the stars of her diadem), is set forth both in the prophecy of Simeon and in the very history of the Lord's passion. This one is set, says the holy old man of the little child Jesus, for a sign which shall be spoken against: and your own soul, he said moreover to Mary, a sword shall pierce (Luke 2:34, 35). Truly, O blessed mother, a sword pierced your soul. Otherwise it would not have penetrated the flesh of your Son except by piercing it. And indeed, after that Jesus of yours (of all, indeed, but especially yours) had given up His spirit, the cruel lance which opened His side (not sparing Him even dead, Whom it could no longer harm) plainly did not touch His soul, but it assuredly pierced yours. His soul, doubtless, was no longer there; but yours plainly could not be torn away from there. Your

ON THE NATIVITY OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY, A SERMON: On the Aqueduct.

1. Heaven embraces the presence of the fruitful Virgin, earth venerates her memory. For thus the showing-forth of the whole good is found there, the recollection of it here; there satiety, here a certain thin libation of first-fruits; there the reality, and here the name. Lord, he says, Thy name is for ever, and Thy memorial unto generation and generation

soul, then, the force of sorrow pierced, so that not undeservedly we proclaim you more than a martyr, in whom, doubtless, the effect of compassion exceeded the sense of bodily suffering.

15. Was not that word more than a sword to you, truly piercing your soul and reaching even to the division of soul and spirit: Woman, behold your son? (John 19:26) O exchange! John is handed over to you in place of Jesus, the servant in place of the Lord, the disciple in place of the master; the son of Zebedee in place of the Son of God, a mere man in place of the true God! How should this hearing not pierce your most loving soul, when even our breasts, though they be of stone, though they be of iron, the mere remembrance of it rends? Do not wonder, brethren, that Mary is said to have been a martyr in soul. Let him wonder who does not remember having heard Paul recounting among the greatest crimes of the Gentiles that they were without affection (Rom. 1:31). Far was that from the heart of Mary; far let it be also from her little servants. But perhaps someone may say: Had she not known beforehand that He would die? Undoubtedly. Did she not hope that He would presently rise again? Confidently. Beyond this, did she grieve that He was crucified? Vehemently. Otherwise, who are you, brother, or whence is this wisdom of yours, that you wonder more at Mary suffering with Him than at the Son of Mary suffering? He could even die in body; could she not die with Him in heart? Charity did that, than which no one had greater; charity did this also, like to which, after that, there was no other. Now, mother of mercy, the moon, lying prostrate at your feet, entreats you with devout supplications, by the very affection of your most sincere mind, as the mediatrix appointed for her with the Sun of justice: that in your light she may see light, and by your intercession may merit the grace of the Sun, Who truly loved you above all, and adorned you, clothing you with the robe of glory, and setting the crown of beauty on your head. You are full of graces, full of heavenly dew, leaning upon the beloved, overflowing with delights. Feed your poor today, Lady; let the whelps also eat of the crumbs; and give drink not only to the servant of Abraham but to the camels also from your overflowing pitcher (Gen. 24:15–20): for you truly are the maiden chosen beforehand and prepared for the Son of the Most High, Who is over all things God blessed for ever. Amen.

(Ps. 101:13). Generation and generation — not of angels assuredly, but of men. Would you know that His name and His memorial are among us, His presence on high? So shall you pray, He says: Our Father Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name (Matt. 6:9). A faithful prayer, whose very beginnings

should admonish us both of the divine adoption and of our earthly pilgrimage: so that, knowing this, that so long as we are not in heaven we are pilgrims away from the Lord, we may groan within ourselves, awaiting the adoption of sons, that is to say, the presence of the Father. Pointedly therefore the prophet speaks also of Christ, saying: The Spirit before our face, Christ the Lord: under His shadow we shall live among the nations (Lam. 4:20). For among the heavenly beatitudes there is no living in a shadow, but rather in splendour. In the splendours of the saints, he says, from the womb before the day-star I begot Thee (Ps. 109:3). But that indeed is the Father.

2. But the mother assuredly did not beget that same one in splendour, but in a shadow — yet in none other than that with which the Most High overshadowed her. Rightly therefore does the Church sing — not indeed that Church of the saints which is on high and in splendour, but the one which meanwhile makes its pilgrimage on earth: Under the shadow of Him Whom I had desired I sat, and His fruit is sweet to my throat (Song 2:3). For she had asked that the noonday light be shown her, where the Bridegroom pastures His flock; but she was held back, and received meanwhile a shadow for the fullness of light, a taste for satiety. And in the end she does not say: Under the shadow which I had desired; but: Under the shadow of Him Whom I had desired I sat. For she had not sought His shadow, but Himself assuredly, the noonday, light full out of light full. And His fruit, she says, is sweet to my throat: as if she should say, to my taste. How long dost Thou not spare me, nor let me go, that I may swallow my spittle? How long does that sentence stand: Taste and see that the Lord is sweet? (Ps. 33:9) And sweet indeed to the taste and pleasant to the throat, so that over this also the bride rightly broke out into a voice of thanksgiving and praise.

3. But when shall it be said: Eat, friends, and drink; and be inebriated, dearest ones? (Song 5:1) Let the just feast, says the Prophet, but in the sight of God (Ps. 67:4) — not, assuredly, in a shadow. And of himself: I shall be satisfied, he says, when Thy glory shall have appeared (Ps. 16:15). But the Lord also says to the apostles: You are they who have remained with me in my temptations; and I appoint to you a kingdom, as my Father appointed to me, that you may eat and drink at my table (Luke 22:28–30). But where? In my kingdom, He says. Blessed plainly is he who shall eat bread in the kingdom of God. Hallowed therefore be Thy name, by which meanwhile Thou art in us after a fashion, Lord, dwelling by faith in our hearts; since Thy name is already invoked over us. Thy kingdom come. Let that come, assuredly, which is perfect, and let that be done away which is in part. You have, says the Apostle, your fruit unto sanctification, and the end life everlasting (Rom. 6:22). Life everlasting, an unfailing fountain, which waters the whole surface of paradise. Nor does it only water, but inebriates — a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, which flow with a rush from Lebanon; and the rush of the river makes glad the city of God. But what is the fountain of life, if not Christ the Lord? When Christ, he says, shall have appeared, your life, then you also shall appear with Him in glory (Col. 3:4). Assuredly that same fullness emptied itself, that it might be made for us justice,

and sanctification, and remission; not yet appearing as life or glory or beatitude. The fountain has been drawn down as far as to us, the waters have been drawn off into the streets, though the stranger drink not of them (Prov. 5:16, 17). That heavenly vein came down through an aqueduct, not indeed presenting the abundance of the fountain, but pouring in drippings of grace upon our parched hearts — to some more, to others less. The aqueduct is full indeed, that the rest may receive of its fullness, but not the fullness itself.

4. You have already perceived, unless I am mistaken, whom I mean by the aqueduct: which, receiving the fullness of the fountain itself from the heart of the Father, has given Him forth to us — if not as He is, at least as we were able to take Him in. For you know to whom it was said: Hail, full of grace. Do we wonder that it could ever be found, whence should come to be an aqueduct such and so great, whose summit indeed — after the manner surely of that ladder which the patriarch Jacob saw — should touch the heavens (Gen. 28:12), nay should even pass beyond the heavens, and be able to reach that most living fountain of the waters which are above the heavens? Solomon too wondered, and like one despairing said: A strong woman, who shall find? (Prov. 31:10) Assuredly for this cause the streams of grace were wanting to the human race for so long a time: that there did not yet intervene he of whom we speak, that so-desirable aqueduct. Nor will you wonder that it was long awaited, if you call to mind how many years Noah, a just man, laboured at the building of the ark, in which few, that is eight souls, were saved — and that for a short enough time.

5. But how did this aqueduct of ours reach that fountain so sublime? How do you suppose, if not by vehemence of desire, by fervour of devotion, by purity of prayer? as it is written: The prayer of the just man pierces the heavens (Sir. 35:21). And who is just, if Mary be not just, from whom the sun of justice has risen upon us? How then did she reach the unapproachable majesty, if not by knocking, by asking, by seeking? And in the end she found what she was seeking, she to whom it was said: You have found grace with God (Luke 1:30). What then? She is full of grace, and does she still find grace? Wholly worthy is she to find what she seeks, she for whom her own fullness does not suffice, nor can she be content with her own good; but, as it is written: He that drinks me shall thirst still (Sir. 24:29), she asks an overflowing for the salvation of all. The Holy Spirit, he says, shall come upon you (Luke 1:35) — if that precious balsam shall flow into you with so great an abundance and so great a fullness that it flows out most copiously on every side. So it is: already we feel it, already our faces are made glad with the oil. Already we cry out: Thy name is oil poured out, and Thy memorial unto generation and generation. And that indeed not in vain: for though the oil is poured out, yet it does not perish. For this cause assuredly the maidens also, that is the little souls, love the bridegroom (Song 1:2), and that not a little; and the ointment coming down from the head was received not only by the beard, but by the very hem of the garment.

6. Behold, O man, the counsel of God; acknowledge the counsel of wisdom, the counsel of loving-kindness. About to water

the threshing-floor with heavenly dew, He first drenched the whole fleece (Judg. 6:37–40); about to redeem the human race, He laid the whole price in Mary. To what end this? Perhaps that Eve might be excused through a daughter, and the man's complaint against the woman be thenceforth put to rest. Say no more, O Adam: The woman whom Thou gavest me gave me of the forbidden tree (Gen. 3:12); say rather: The woman whom Thou gavest me has fed me with a blessed fruit. A most loving counsel assuredly; but perhaps another lies hidden, and this is not the whole. True it is indeed, but it is little, unless I am mistaken, for your desires. There is a sweetness of milk: perhaps, if we press harder, the richness of butter will be drawn out too. Look then more deeply: with how great an affection of devotion He willed her to be honoured by us, Who placed the fullness of all good in Mary — so that accordingly, if there is any hope in us, any grace, any salvation, we may know that it overflows from her, who comes up flowing with delights. Plainly a garden of delights, upon which that divine south wind not only breathed in coming, but blew through in coming upon it, so that on every side her spices flow and flow out — the free gifts of graces, that is. Take away this body of the sun, which lights the world: where is the day? Take away Mary, this star of the sea — of the sea, assuredly, great and wide: what is left but an enveloping gloom, and the shadow of death, and thickest darkness?

7. With all the marrow of our hearts, therefore, with all the affections of our inmost parts, and with all our vows, let us venerate this Mary; because such is the will of Him Who willed that we should have the whole through Mary. This, I say, is His will — but for our sake. For providing in all things and through all things for the wretched, He consoles our trembling, stirs up faith, strengthens hope, drives away distrust, lifts up faint-heartedness. You were afraid to approach the Father; terrified by the mere hearing, you fled to the leaves; He gave you Jesus as mediator. What would such a Son not obtain with such a Father? He shall surely be heard for His reverence: for the Father loves the Son. But do you tremble even at Him? He is your brother and your flesh, tempted in all things without sin, that He might become merciful. This brother Mary gave you. But perhaps in Him also you fear the divine majesty, because, although He was made man, He nonetheless remained God. Do you wish to have an advocate even to Him? Run back to Mary. For in Mary there is pure humanity — not only pure from all defilement, but pure also in the singleness of her nature. And I would say without doubt: she too shall be heard for her reverence. The Son will surely hear the Mother, and the Father will hear the Son. Little children, this is the ladder of sinners, this is my greatest confidence, this is the whole ground of my hope. For what? Can the Son either repel, or endure repulse; can the Son fail to hear, or fail to be heard? Plainly neither. You have found, says the angel, grace with God. Happily so. She will always find grace, and grace is the one thing we lack. The prudent Virgin sought not wisdom, as Solomon did, not riches, not honours, not power, but grace. Assuredly grace alone it is, by which we are saved.

8. Why do we covet other things, brethren? Let us seek

grace, and let us seek it through Mary; because what she seeks she finds, and cannot be disappointed. Let us seek grace, but grace with God: for with men grace is deceitful. Let others seek merit; let us be zealous to find grace. For what? Is it a matter of grace that we are here? Assuredly it is of the Lord's mercy that we are not consumed. And what men are we! We perjurers, we adulterers, we murderers, we plunderers — the offscourings assuredly of this world. Consult your consciences, brethren, and see, that where sin abounded, grace also superabounds. Mary does not put forward merit, but seeks grace. Indeed she so trusts to grace, and is not high-minded, that she is afraid at the angelic salutation. Mary, he says, was pondering what manner of salutation this might be (Luke 1:29). Assuredly she reckoned herself unworthy of the angelic salutation. And perhaps she was musing upon such things as these: Whence is this to me, that the angel of my Lord should come to me? Fear not, Mary, do not wonder at the angel's coming: one greater than the angel comes. Do not wonder at the angel of the Lord: the Lord of the angel is with you. Lastly, why should you not see an angel, since you already live angelically? why should the angel not visit the companion of his life, why should he not salute a fellow-citizen of the saints and a member of the household of God? Plainly virginity is an angelic life: and they who shall not marry nor be given in marriage shall be as the angels of God.

9. Do you see that in this way also, no less, our aqueduct ascends to the fountain; and no longer pierces the heavens by prayer alone, but also by incorruption, which makes one near to God, as the Wise Man says? (Wis. 6:20) For she was a virgin holy in body and in spirit, to whom it belonged in a special way to say: Our conversation is in the heavens (Phil. 3:20). Holy, I say, in body and in spirit, lest perhaps you should doubt anything concerning this aqueduct. Lofty indeed it is exceedingly, but it remains nonetheless wholly unbroken. A garden enclosed, a fountain sealed, a temple of the Lord, a sanctuary of the Holy Spirit. For she is not a foolish virgin, who has not oil only, but a fullness of oil stored up in her vessel. She has set ascents in her heart, ascending equally by her manner of life, as we have already said, and by prayer. Indeed she went into the hill country with haste, and saluted Elizabeth; and she was in her service about three months, so that even then a mother could say to a mother what so long after the Son said to a son: Suffer it now; for so it becomes us to fulfil all justice (Matt. 3:15). Plainly she climbs the mountains, whose justice is as the mountains of God. For this was the Virgin's third ascent, that a threefold cord might be hard to break. For charity glowed in the seeking of grace, virginity shone in her flesh, humility stood out in her service. And indeed, if everyone that humbles himself shall be exalted, what is loftier than this humility? Elizabeth wondered that she had come, and said: Whence is this to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? (Luke 1:43) But let her now wonder the more, that after the very pattern of the Son she too came not to be ministered unto, but to minister. Rightly therefore that divine singer, singing beforehand in admiration of her, said: Who is this that ascends like the rising dawn, fair as the moon, chosen as the sun, terrible as an army

set in array? (Song 6:9) She ascends plainly above the human race, she ascends even to the angels, but she passes beyond these also, and goes above every heavenly creature. For assuredly she must draw above the angels the living water which she pours back upon men.

10. How, she says, shall this be done, since I know not man? Truly holy in body and in spirit, having both integrity of flesh and a purpose of integrity. And the angel answering said: The Holy Spirit shall come upon you, and the power of the Most High shall overshadow you (Luke 1:34, 35). Do not question me, he says; it is above me, and I shall not be able to reach it. The Holy Spirit, not the angelic, shall come upon you; and the power of the Most High shall overshadow you, not I. Do not stand even within the angels, holy Virgin; the thirsting earth awaits something loftier to be poured out for it by your ministry. When you have passed a little beyond them, you shall find Him Whom your soul loves. A little, I say — not because He does not incomparably stand above them, but because between Him and them you find nothing in the middle. Pass then beyond the virtues and the dominations, the cherubim also and the seraphim, that you may come to Him of Whom they cry one to another: Holy, holy, holy, the Lord God of hosts (Isa. 6:3). For that Holy One which shall be born of you shall be called the Son of God (Luke 1:35). The fountain of wisdom, the Word of the Father on high. This Word, through your mediation, shall be made flesh: so that He Who says: I am in the Father, and the Father in me (John 14:10), may say no less that I proceeded from God and came (John 8:42). In the beginning, he says, was the Word. Already the fountain wells up; but meanwhile only within itself. Then: and the Word was with God (John 1:1), dwelling assuredly in light inaccessible; and the Lord said from the beginning: I think thoughts of peace, and not of affliction (Jer. 29:11). But Thy thought is with Thyself, and what Thou thinkest we do not know. For who had known the mind of the Lord? or who was His counsellor? And so the thought of peace came down into a work of peace: the Word was made flesh, and dwells now among us. He dwells plainly by faith in our hearts, He dwells in our memory, He dwells in our thought, and has come down even to our imagination itself. For what would man have thought before this about God, unless perhaps he fashioned an idol in his heart?

11. He was incomprehensible and inaccessible, invisible and altogether unthinkable. But now He has willed to be comprehended, has willed to be seen, has willed to be thought. In what manner, do you say? Assuredly lying in a manger, resting in a virginal lap, preaching on a mountain, passing the night in prayer, or hanging on a cross, growing pale in death, free among the dead, and commanding in hell; or again rising on the third day, and showing the apostles the places of the nails as the signs of victory; and last of all, in their presence ascending into the secret places of heaven. Which of these is not thought of truly, devoutly, holily? Whichever of these I think, I think God, and through all of them He Himself is my God. To meditate on these things I have called wisdom, and I have judged it prudence to bring up the memory of that sweetness which in kernels of this sort the priestly

rod brought forth abundantly; which Mary, drawing it in the heights, poured back upon us more richly. In the heights plainly, and beyond the angels, she who received the Word from the very heart of the Father, as it is written: Day unto day utters the word (Ps. 18:3). The Father assuredly is day: since the Salvation of God is day out of day (Ps. 95:2). And is not the Virgin also day? And a glorious one. Plainly a shining day, which comes forth like the rising dawn, fair as the moon, chosen as the sun.

12. Behold then how she came even to the angels by the fullness of grace, and above the angels by the Holy Spirit coming upon her. In the angels there is charity, there is purity, there is humility. Which of these did not shine out in Mary? But that was shown above, so far indeed as it could be shown by us: let us now pursue her pre-eminence. For to which of the angels was it ever said: The Holy Spirit shall come upon you, and the power of the Most High shall overshadow you: and therefore also that Holy One which shall be born of you shall be called the Son of God? Indeed, Truth has risen out of the earth, not out of the angelic creature: nor did He take hold of angels, but of the seed of Abraham. It is a great thing for an angel to be a minister of the Lord; but Mary earned something loftier, to be His mother. And so the fruitfulness of the Virgin is a pre-eminent glory, and by that singular gift she was made so much more excellent than the angels as, by a difference beyond the ministers, she received the name of mother. This grace she found, already full of grace: that, with charity fervent, with virginity unbroken, with humility devout, she should nonetheless become with child without knowledge of man, and a mother without a woman's pain. It is little: what was born of her is called Holy, and is the Son of God.

13. For the rest, brethren, we must take the greatest care that the Word, which went forth to us from the mouth of the Father through the mediation of the Virgin, should not return empty: but that through the same Virgin we should no less render back grace for grace. Let us bring up the memory, while we sigh for the presence, and let the streams of grace be rendered back to their source, that they may flow more richly. For otherwise, unless they return to the fountain, they dry up; and, unfaithful in a little, we do not deserve to receive what is greatest. Plainly the memory is a little thing compared with the presence, a little compared with what we desire, a great thing compared with what we deserve: far below our desire, but nonetheless above our merit. Wisely therefore the bride gives thanks [variant: glories] not a little even for this little. For when she had said: Show me where Thou feedest, where Thou liest down at noon (Song 1:6), receiving scanty things for immense ones, and, instead of the noonday pasture, pouring out an evening sacrifice, yet she by no means, as is wont to happen, murmurs or grows sad, but gives thanks, and in all things shows herself the more devout. For she knows that if she has been faithful in the shadow of the memory, she will without doubt obtain the light of the presence. Therefore, you who are mindful of the Lord, be not silent, and give Him no silence. Assuredly they who have the Lord present do not need exhortation: and what the other Prophet says: Praise the Lord, O Jerusalem; praise your God, O Sion (Ps. 147:1), is rather a joint rejoicing than an admonition. They who walk in faith need the admonition not to be silent,

and let them not give Him silence. For He speaks, and He speaks peace unto His people, and upon His saints, and unto them that are turned unto the heart. Moreover with the holy Thou shalt be holy, and with the innocent man Thou shalt be innocent (Ps. 17:26): and He will hear the man who hears Him, and He will speak to the man who speaks to Him. Otherwise you have given Him silence if you are silent. But silence from what, if you are silent? From praise. Be not silent, he says, and give Him no silence, until He establish, and until He set Jerusalem a praise in the earth (Isa. 62:6, 7). The praise of Jerusalem, a glad and comely praising. Unless perhaps we suppose that the angels, the citizens of Jerusalem, take delight in praising one another, and beguile themselves with vanity in the same way.

14. Thy will be done, Father, as in heaven so also in earth, that the praise of Jerusalem may be established in the earth. For what is the case now? Does not angel seek glory from angel in Jerusalem, and man desire to be praised by man on earth? A perversity to be execrated! but let it be theirs who have the ignorance of God, who have forgotten the Lord their God. You who are mindful of the Lord, be not silent from His praise, until it be established and made perfect in the earth. For there is a silence not to be blamed, nay rather to be praised. And there is a speech that is not good. Otherwise the prophet would not say that it is good for a man to wait with silence for the Salvation of God (Lam. 3:26). Good is silence from boasting, good from blasphemy, good from murmuring and detraction. For one man, exasperated by the greatness of his labour and the burden of the day, murmurs in his mind; and passes judgement upon those who keep watch for his soul, as men who must assuredly render an account. It is a cry, but more than any silence that cry of a hardened mind silences the voice of the word, which it does not suffer to be heard. Another fails in his expectation through faint-heartedness of spirit: and this is the worst word of blasphemy, which is remitted neither in this world nor in the world to come. A third walks in great matters and in wonderful things above himself, saying: Our hand is high; thinking himself to be something, when he is nothing. What would He say to such a man, Who speaks peace? For he says: Because I am rich, and need nothing. But the sentence of Truth is: Woe to you rich, because you have here your consolation (Luke 6:24). And on the contrary: Blessed, He says, are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted (Matt. 5:5). Let there be silent in us, then, the slandering tongue, the blaspheming tongue, the boastful tongue; since it is good in this threefold silence to wait for the Salvation of the Lord, so that you may say: Speak, Lord, for Thy servant hears (1 Sam. 3:10). For utterances of that kind are not to Him, but against Him, as the lawgiver says to the murmurers: For your murmuring is not against us, but against the Lord (Exod. 16:8).

15. Yet be so silent from these things that you be not altogether silent, that you give Him not silence. Speak to Him against boasting in confession, that you may obtain pardon for things past. Speak in thanksgiving against murmuring, that you may find a fuller grace in the present. Speak in prayer against distrust, that you may attain glory also in the future. Confess, I say, the things past, and for the things present give thanks, and

pray thereafter the more earnestly for the things to come: so that He Himself too may not be silent, from remission, from inpouring, from promise. Be not silent, I say, and give Him no silence. Speak, that He also may speak, and that you may be able to say: My beloved to me, and I to Him (Song 2:16). A glad voice, and a sweet utterance. Assuredly this is not the voice of murmuring, but the voice of the turtle-dove. And do not say: How shall we sing the song of the Lord in a strange land? (Ps. 136:4) It will no longer be reckoned strange, of which the bridegroom says: The voice of the turtle has been heard in our land. For He had heard her saying: Take us the little foxes (Song 2:12, 15): and perhaps from that she broke out into a voice of exultation, so as to say: My beloved to me, and I to Him. Plainly the voice of the turtle, which with a singular chastity stays constant to its mate, both living and dead, so that neither death nor life separates it from the charity of Christ. Consider indeed whether anything could have turned this beloved away from His beloved, so that He should not stay constant to her even when sinning and even when turned away. Massed clouds strove to spread themselves over His rays, so that our iniquities should divide between us and God: but the sun grew warm [variant: grew strong], and dissolved them all. Otherwise, when would you have returned to Him, unless He had stayed constant to you, unless He had cried: Return, return, O Shulamite; return, return, that we may look upon you? (Song 6:12) Be therefore no less constant to Him, that by no scourges or labours you be turned away from Him.

16. Wrestle with the angel, that you succumb not: because the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent bear it away. Is it not a wrestling — my beloved to me, and I to Him? (Matt. 11:12) He has made His love known; let Him have proof of yours also. For in many things the Lord your God tempts you. He turns aside rather often, He averts His face, but not in anger. This is a matter of proving, not of reprobation. The beloved has borne with you; do you bear with the beloved, bear with the Lord, act manfully. Your sins did not overcome Him; let not His scourges overcome you either, and you shall obtain the blessing. But when? When the dawn shall have come, when day shall already have breathed, when He shall have established Jerusalem a praise in the earth. Behold, it says, a man wrestled with Jacob until morning (Gen. 32:24). Make me hear Thy mercy in the morning, because I have hoped in Thee, Lord. I will not be silent, nor give Thee silence until morning; and would that I gave Thee no fast either. For assuredly Thou deignest even to be fed, but among lilies. My beloved to me, and I to Him, Who is fed among the lilies. And assuredly above also, if you remember, it was plainly set down in the same Song that the appearing of the flowers accompanies the hearing of the turtle. But mark that He seems to indicate a place, not a food; nor does He express what He is fed upon, but among what things. For perhaps He is fed not by the eating of lilies but by their company; nor does He feed on lilies, but dwells among them. For assuredly lilies please by their scent rather than by their taste; and they are fitter for the sight than for the eating.

17. So then He is fed among the lilies, until the day breathe, and to the comeliness of the flowers there succeed the richness of fruits. For meanwhile [variant: so] it is the time of flowers, not of fruits, while we are rather in hope than in the thing itself,

and, walking by faith, not by sight, we rejoice in expectation rather than in experience. Consider, in short, the tenderness of the flower, and remember the word which the Apostle says: that we have this treasure in earthen vessels (2 Cor. 4:7). For how many dangers seem to threaten the flowers! How easily is the lily pierced by the points of thorns! Rightly therefore the beloved sings: As a lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters (Song 2:2). Was He not a lily among thorns Who said: With them that hated peace I was peaceable? (Ps. 119:7) But although the just man sprouts like a lily, yet the bridegroom is not fed on a single lily, nor does He take pleasure in solitariness. Hear Him, in short, dwelling among lilies. Where, He says, two or three shall be gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them (Matt. 18:20). Jesus always loves the middle; the Son of man, the mediator of God and of men, always rejects by-paths and places of reclining. My beloved to me, and I to Him, Who is fed among the lilies. Let us take care to have lilies, brethren; let us make haste to root out thorns and thistles, and to plant lilies: if perchance the beloved should ever deign to come down to us also to be fed.

18. With Mary assuredly He was fed, and that the more abundantly for the multitude of the lilies. Were not these lilies: the glory of virginity,

ON THE FEAST OF SAINT MICHAEL. SERMON I. On the offices of the angels towards us, and our reverence towards them [variant: on the threefold cause for which the angels are solicitous for us].

1. Today the memory of the angels is celebrated, and you require the sermon due for so great a solemnity. But what should vile little worms say about angelic spirits? We believe assuredly, and hold with undoubting faith, that they, blessed by the divine presence and vision, rejoice without end in the good things of the Lord, which eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have they come up into the heart of man. What then should man say to men about things which neither can he himself so much as think, nor they even hear? Assuredly, if out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks, the tongue must nonetheless be silent out of the poverty of thought. Yet if it is too much for us to speak of that brightness and glory in which the holy angels, in themselves — nay rather in their God — stand altogether above our hearts, let us speak of that grace and charity which they show towards us. For in the spirits above there is found not only an admirable dignity, but a lovable condescension also. It is fitting therefore, brethren, that we who do not take in the glory should so much the more embrace the mercy, in which, as is plain, the members of God's household, the citizens of heaven, the princes of paradise, no less abound. In short, the Apostle himself bears witness — he who, caught up to the third heaven, was counted worthy to be present at that blessed court and to know its secrets — that they are all ministering spirits, sent to minister for them who receive the inheritance of salvation (Heb. 1:14).

the badge of humility, the pre-eminence of charity? Yet we too shall have lilies, though far inferior ones: but not even among these will the bridegroom disdain to be fed; if indeed the gladness of devotion shall have made bright those thanksgivings of which we spoke, if purity of intention shall have made our prayer white, if pardon shall have bleached our confession, as it is written: If your sins be as scarlet, they shall be made white as snow; and if they be red as crimson, they shall be as white wool (Isa. 1:18). But whatever it is that you prepare to offer, remember to commend it to Mary, so that by the same channel the grace may return to the giver of grace which flowed down from Him. For God was not powerless to pour in grace as He willed even without this aqueduct; but He willed to provide you with a vehicle. For perhaps your hands are either full of blood or stained with bribes, in that you have not shaken them clear of every bribe. And therefore [variant: and so] take care to deliver that little thing which you desire to offer into those most pleasing hands of Mary, most worthy of all acceptance, if you do not wish to suffer a repulse. For assuredly they are lilies of a most shining whiteness: nor will that lover of lilies plead that whatever He finds among Mary's hands was not found among lilies. Amen.

2. Nor let this seem incredible to anyone; since the Creator and king of the angels Himself also came, not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give His soul for many (Matt. 20:28). Why then should anyone disdain that ministry of the angels, in which He goes before them — He to Whom on high they minister with all eagerness and happiness? If you doubt even here, assuredly he who saw it bore witness: Thousands, he says, of thousands ministered to Him, and ten hundred thousands stood before Him (Dan. 7:10). Another prophet too, speaking to the Father about the Son, says: Thou hast made Him a little less than the angels (Ps. 8:6). So plainly, so does it befit that He should conquer by humility also, Who was conquering by loftiness; and that He should be so much less than the angels as He bound Himself over to a lower ministry — He Who is so much the more excellent as, by a difference beyond them, He has inherited a name. But perhaps you would ask in what respect He seems made less than the angels when He came to minister; since, as we recalled above, they too are sent to minister. In this assuredly, that He not only ministered, but was also ministered unto, and it was one and the same Who was ministering and Who was being ministered unto. Rightly therefore the bride in the Song of songs: Behold, she says, He comes leaping upon the mountains, skipping over the hills (Song 2:8). For in ministering He leapt among the angels; but in being ministered unto He also skipped over them. For the angels minister, but out of what is another's, offering God good works not their own but ours, and carrying back to us His grace. Whence the Scripture also, saying: Because the smoke of the spices went up in the sight of the Lord from the hand of the angel, carefully set before it: there were given to him

there were many incense offerings (Rev. 8:3–4). For they offer to God our sweat, not theirs; our tears, not theirs; and to us they bring back His gifts, and not their own.

3. Not so that Minister, higher than all and yet lower than all, who offered Himself as a sacrifice of praise, who, offering His soul to the Father, ministers His flesh to us even to this day. For the sake of so great a Minister it is no wonder at all if the holy angels minister to us graciously, nay, even gladly. For they love us, because Christ has loved us. There is indeed a common proverb: Whoever loves me, loves my dog too. And we, O blessed angels, are the little dogs of that Lord whom you love with such affection; little dogs, I say, longing to be filled with the crumbs that fall from the table of our masters, who are you. And I would say this, brethren, so that henceforth you may have a fuller confidence towards the blessed angels, and therefore call upon their help more familiarly in every need of yours; and also that you may be careful to conduct yourselves more worthily in their presence, and more and more to win their favour, to gain their goodwill, to entreat their kindness. For which reason I think it necessary to set out to your charity other causes as well, which themselves also make the blessed angels solicitous for our weakness; without any anxiety of their own, to be sure, but not without profit to us; not to the loss of their happiness, but to the increase of our salvation.

4. It is beyond doubt that human souls, sharing in reason and capable of beatitude, are akin, if we dare to say so, to the angelic nature: and it does not become you, O blessed spirits, against the precept of the law, to disdain your own kind, which you ought to visit, though it has been cast down, as you yourselves see, into great baseness. Nor do we think, citizens on high, that you take pleasure in the overthrow of your city and in the ruin of the walls which you yourselves see to be half-destroyed. If you desire its restoration, as is fitting, repeat often, I beg, the word of prayer before the throne of glory, saying: Deal kindly, O Lord, in Thy good will with Sion, that the walls of Jerusalem may be built up (Ps. 50:20). If you love the beauty of the house of God, nay, because you truly love it, let the living and rational stones, which alone can be built together with you into its restoration, experience your zeal. This, beloved, is the threefold cord by which the surpassing charity of the angels is drawn down from the lofty dwelling of the heavens to console us, to visit us, to help us: for God's sake, for our sake, for their own sake. For God's sake indeed, Whose great tender mercy towards us they too imitate, as is fitting. For our sake, since in us they pity, to be sure, their own likeness. For their own sake, since they await with all desire that their ranks be restored from among us. For in the mouth of little ones, who as yet feed on milk and not yet on solid food, that praise of the divine majesty is to be perfected whose firstfruits the angelic spirits possess, enjoying, to be sure, a blessed delight: but they await us the more eagerly, the more they are stirred by the expectation and longing for its completion.

5. Since this is so, consider, beloved, how much care we also need in order to show ourselves worthy of their company, and to conduct ourselves in the sight of the angels in such a way that we do not perhaps offend their holy gaze. For woe to us if ever, provoked by our sins and negligences, they should judge us unworthy of their presence and visitation, so that we too should then have to lament and say with the Prophet: My friends and my neighbours have drawn near against me, and have stood; and those who were beside me stood afar off, and those who sought my soul used violence (Ps. 37:12–13); for those would indeed have withdrawn whose presence could protect us and drive off the enemy. And if we hold the familiar condescension of the angels so necessary, we must beware of offending them, and must practise above all those things in which we know they take delight. For there are very many things that please them, and which it delights them to find in us: such as sobriety, chastity, voluntary poverty, frequent groanings towards heaven, and prayers with tears and with the intent of the heart. Yet above all these things the angels of peace require of us unity and peace. Why should they not delight most of all in those things which represent in us a certain form of their own city, so that they may marvel at a new Jerusalem on earth? And I mean that, as the sharing of that city is in unity (Ps. 121:3), so we too should all think the same thing, all say the same thing, and that there should be no schisms among us; but rather that all together we should be one body in Christ, and each one members of one another.

6. On the other hand, nothing so offends them and provokes them to indignation as dissensions and scandals, if such should be found among us. Let us hear, then, what Paul says to the Corinthians: For since there is jealousy and strife among you, are you not carnal, and do you not walk according to man? (1 Cor. 3:3). In the Epistle of the apostle Jude too we read thus: These are they who separate themselves, sensual, not having the Spirit (Jude 19). One may see how the soul of a man gives life to all the members of the body that hold together with it. Separate any one of them, then, from its joining with the rest, and see whether it still gives it life. So it is with everyone who says anathema to Jesus (1 Cor. 12:3), which no one says speaking in the Spirit of God, because anathema is separation. So it is, I say, with everyone who is divided from unity, and you need not doubt that the spirit of life has departed from him. Rightly, then, do the apostles call the contentious, and those who separate themselves, carnal and sensual, not having the Spirit. So those holy and blessed spirits say, when they find scandals and dissensions: What have we to do with this generation that has not the Spirit? For if the Spirit were present, charity would surely be poured out through Him, and unity would not be torn. And they say: We will not remain with these men for ever, because they are flesh. For what fellowship has light with darkness? We are of the kingdom of unity and peace, and we hoped that these men would come into the same unity and peace. Now