Isaac of Stella, Sermons

outwardly that she would conceive of the Holy Spirit Christ, Whom she already had within. And afterwards Christ, Who had created her a new creature in Himself, rested in her womb. To each faithful soul also that is predestined to salvation, Wisdom, when He wills and as He wills, commands and speaks, both inwardly, through [the soul's] own reason, by which He enlightens every man coming into this world, and through the inspiration of grace, by which He sets apart a free rain for His inheritance, and outwardly, through teaching and through the creature, where [His invisible things] are clearly seen, being understood through the things that are made; and He Who thus creates and forms [the soul] in Christ Jesus in good works rests in its conscience. And He said to me: Dwell in Jacob, and take Thine inheritance in Israel (Sir. 24:8). The voice of the Father to Wisdom, [that is,] Christ. Wisdom dwells in Jacob, takes inheritance in Israel; but He sends down roots in the elect of His Father alone, and in all of them. For every planting which the heavenly Father has not planted, however much it grow, however much it flourish, shall at last be rooted up. For it is not the Son's to give the kingdom, except to those for whom it has been prepared by the Father (Matt. 20:23). Not everywhere, then, that Wisdom dwells does He take inheritance; nor everywhere that He takes inheritance does He send down roots. For a thousand shall fall from the inheritance, and ten thousand from the dwelling; but ruin shall not come near the elect: for the heavenly generation, like a most strong root, preserves them. Or, if you please, He dwells in the active, who, having overthrown their vices, toil in good works; and in the contemplative, who have chosen the good part, which shall not be taken from them, He already, as it were, takes His inheritance. But in both kinds of elect Wisdom sends down roots, He Who had preserved both against every assault and force of those who harass them. And after this manner the other distinctions run easily, though the orders be interchanged. Nevertheless, in the Church, action and contemplation are two lives; in Mary, about Christ, two most full offices; in each of us, most useful interchanges and necessary alternations. For what lacks alternate rest is not durable in the meantime. And may Christ deign to fulfil this in us also, through the intercession of blessed Mary: Who with the Father and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, God, through all ages of ages. Amen.

SERMON LII. ON THE SAME FEAST, II.

Who is she that comes up from the desert, flowing with delights, leaning upon her beloved? (Song 8:5) Almost at the beginning of this marriage song there appears a wondrous one, I know not who, lying as it were in the desert, burning and smoking, keeping a hidden fire within herself, sending upward a manifest smoke, like a slender column, fragrant too, as from the spices of myrrh and frankincense and of every powder of the perfumer: of whom it is said: Who is she that goes up through the desert, like a column of smoke? (Song 3:6) Further on, however, another, or perhaps, because of her progress in virtue, the same, who now, rising, goes forth, not all at once bright or shining, but like the dawn (Song 6:10), which from the border of night grows light into clear day.

Fair also as the moon, which is not wholly fair; chosen too as the sun (Song 6:9), which, though wholly bright, is yet not wholly gentle. For it shines and scorches, and as much as it pleases by its brightness, so much at times it harms by its heat. For there are some things in the natures of things which choose the light of the sun but flee its heat; and some which are cherished by heat but hurt by light: to the one heat is friendly, splendour hostile; to the other splendour friendly, heat hostile. Terrible, lastly, as an army set in array (Song 6:9), but not yet at peace. An army may indeed be set in array, but while it is an army it can by no means be secure and wholly peaceful, or at peace. But towards the end the third appears, more wonderful than the rest and excellent above all, neither lying and smoking through the desert, nor rising and going forth from the desert, but ascending from the desert with great strength and wondrous eagerness, wholly, I do not say surrounded by or full of delights, but superabounding and overflowing, not sustaining herself for very tenderness, like that queen Esther going up from the women's chamber into the palace of King Ahasuerus (Esth. 15), leaning and resting upon her beloved. And this perhaps is that queen of the world who today is snatched from this world and this wicked age; who in the chamber of the present Church, above wives and widows, along with virgins, is washed and adorned, and more than all these. For though many daughters have gathered riches, she has surpassed them all. Today she goes in to the King, her Son and her Spouse, to make petition for the people: the face of whose majesty not even the mother herself can bear, unless the King also has held out the golden sceptre in sign of clemency. For unless a goodness connatural and coequal tempers the divine and boundless majesty, it is intolerable and inaccessible to every creature. Before it indeed the prophets fall down, and when at last they are raised up by it in clemency, they long languish and waste away; the powers of the heavens also shall be moved at the end, and shall tremble. Yet the mother goes in to the Son more securely than all; not so much because she alone bore Him as because she loved Him singularly. Leaning, it says, not upon her son but upon her beloved. For one can be a son, or a brother, or a father, or a spouse, or anything of this kind, and not be loved; but one can by no means be the beloved and not be loved.

Mary, then, ascends today from the desert of this world; not without the wonder of the heavenly powers, which had never before seen anything of the kind, that someone should fly up from this world and take her seat above all their choirs and thrones. Hence it is also said: Who is this who comes up from the desert, overflowing with delights? The delights are the fruits of the virtues, which, while they are sprouting or flowering or forming fruit still unripe, have something of bitterness and difficulty and sorrow; but at the last they will bear the most peaceful and sweetest fruit of righteousness to those who have been exercised by them. For just as, at the time of ripeness, when the husks are cast off and the shells opened, at last to the sweetness of the kernel

and sweetness one comes, and what has long been laboured over is gathered with delight and gladness, so surely after this life, when the exercises of the virtues have been wholly done away, we shall take our delight in those fruits alone, pure and bare. And since in these the blessed Virgin Mary flourished in this life more than all (whence rightly in Nazareth she conceived immediately of the Holy Spirit Himself), in that heavenly seat, as in the house of bread, she overflows more abundantly than all with delights, leaning everywhere upon her beloved, Whom she bore more happily by faith and love, in her heart, than in her flesh. Hence it is also said: Yea rather, blessed are they who hear the word of God and keep it (Luke 11:28). Meanwhile, however, until the Bridegroom reaps His ripe myrrh with His spices, let Him by frequent visitation go down into the garden of nuts, to see whether the vines flourish and the pomegranates bud. Moreover, dearest brethren, ascents of this kind are not unfittingly discovered daily in ourselves through progress in the spiritual life, according to what is written: He has set ascents in his heart, etc. (Ps. 83:6.) And elsewhere: Who has made us reign together, and sit together with Him in the heavenly places (Eph. 2:6). There is, then, for the rational soul, as a kind of mystical death, so a birth, a resurrection, an ascension and a kingdom; and almost everything that is done outwardly in history is celebrated inwardly in mystery. The soul, therefore, dies to God through disobedience, and is born to the devil and the world. Hence it is said: Cursed be the man who brought tidings to my father, saying: A man child is born to you (Jer. 20:15). It is evil that a daughter be born to the devil, worse that a male be born. The soul also dies to the devil, and is born to God through penance.

The first movement, then, of one dead in sins towards life is contrition of heart: which, while it is pricked by the ceaseless review of past evils and kindled by sorrow, creates within, as it were, a kind of fire of Gehenna, which smokes upward through confession of the mouth. And since, just as contrition of heart is not enough without confession of the mouth, so confession of the mouth does not avail without amendment of deed, spices are added, to make the smoke smell sweet, and to show to all the one who confesses his sins as corrected by the sweet fragrance of his works; above all myrrh and frankincense, because the most dreadful kind of all demons is easily cast out by fasting and prayer; and also every powder of the perfumer, because after compunction of heart and confession of the mouth, affliction of the flesh too, and pure prayer to the Lord, the bounty of almsgiving must not be neglected; which, like powder from earthly substance beyond what need requires, is scattered little by little. He has dispersed, it says, he has given to the poor (Ps. 111:9). And what follows? His righteousness endures for ever and ever. Righteousness, therefore, follows such a way of life of the penitent, rising from the valley of tears and going forth, namely as the dawn. Give alms, says the Saviour, and all things are clean to you (Luke 11:41). Yet that alms is well ordered which by no means passes itself over, which remembers itself first, as it is written: Have mercy

on your soul, pleasing God (Ecclus. XXX). Therefore, brother, through contrition, confession, mortification and prayer you will remember yourself and God best of all; through almsgiving, moreover, you will call your neighbour to mind with devotion; and through the grace of penance you restore all things, you who through the offence of transgression had overthrown yourself, and God, and your neighbour; and him whom compunction conceived in the womb from the dead to life, confession brought forth; whose navel abstinence cut, reason washed, almsgiving salted with salt; justice at last takes him up clean, and wraps him in the swaddling clothes of the virtues, and draws him, clothed, out of darkness into light. For smoke can have something of fragrance, but nothing of brightness can it have; the dawn, however, has something of light, which is the first advance towards the glory of justice; the moon, again, shines almost wholly. The sun indeed has nothing of darkness, but an army set in array even strikes terror. For thus the first degree of justice is to have in oneself, through innocence, the light of justice; the second, through good work, to offer light to others, so that they may follow it; the third, through zeal for justice, to burn towards those who are bright, that they may shine the more; the fourth, to appear terrible in one's own incomparable light and in a kind of unbearable majesty.

Yet scarcely is innocence possessed here in its fullness, and true innocence, which harms neither itself nor anyone else; nor does work easily shine without any pretence; and zeal with difficulty burns without any vehemence; and an ordered array very rarely strikes terror with a peaceable authority. Hence it was necessary that yet a third should appear, who should overflow wholly with delights, should burn no one as the sun by day, or as the moon by night, that is, should scandalize no one either by work or by rebuke; should soothe all with her gentleness and grace, and please them: of such a one it is written: And he found favour in the sight of all flesh. He magnified him in the sight of his enemies, and by his words he appeased monsters (Ecclus. 42; 45). Yet we have seen a man who had indeed something beyond man: when some, scorched by his work or his rebuke, had murmured against him in his absence, a certain divine majesty to be loved and a charity to be revered so shone in his face with such gentleness and at the same time such awe, and so much grace was poured upon his lips, that at the sight of him they were at once soothed, and reproached themselves for having reproached him; they loved, praised and proclaimed everything of his. His holy soul truly overflowed with delights, as is easy to discern in his writings, and most of all in those he wrote on the Song of Songs. For we are speaking of Saint Bernard, abbot of Clairvaux. Therefore to those for whom he was absent he was sun and moon and a terrible army; present, he flooded them with the delights in which he himself always abounded: so terrible to all in love and so lovable in awe, that no one under his word or discipline would fail through any faint-heartedness, or be burned by impatience, or waste away with envy. This, then, dearly beloved, is the highest degree of justice in this life. For the first is innocence, which does harm to no one. The second is munificence, which does good to those it can, and wishes good to all, beneficent to those it is able, well-disposed to all.