WE HAVE SEEN A MAN HAVING SOMETHING MORE THAN HUMAN... A LOVABLE MAJESTY AND A CHARITY FULL OF RESPECT RADIATED FROM HIS FACE, GIVING THE IMPRESSION OF A GREAT DIVINE AMIABILITY AND TERROR... These words of Abbot Isaac of Stella were written in praise of St. Bernard whose feast we celebrate tomorrow (Sermon 52. 15, S.C. 339, p. 232). Their testimony is that of a personal witness, a fellow abbot who had participated with Bernard in his quality as abbot of Clairvaux of the reforming Council of Rheims in 1148. Isaac was one of many men of experience and influence who were deeply impressed with the more than human gifts that adorned Bernard's personality. Nor was it only Cistercians, such as Isaac who had entered the Order at Cīteaux, who had such an extraordinary appreciation of the divine and human charisms manifest in the holy orator. Abbot Wibald, of Stavelot, a learned and highly influential Benedictine, in praising Bernard as a model orator, pointed out that it was the effect of his personality as well as his learning and powers of expression that lent to his speech so marked a power over the hearts and minds of those who heard him. In a letter to the Master of the school at Paderborn, he gives Bernard as a model of preaching and of the spiritual life as well.

For that good man, worn down by the ruggedness of the desert and pale from fasting, reduced to the meager form of a spiritual being, persuaded by sight before hearing. He was given by God the best of natures, the highest learning, incomparable industry, extraordinary activity, clear pronunciation, and bodily gestures perfectly suited to every mode of expression. It is not surprising then if with such powers he should awaken those who sleep, nay, I might say, raises the dead to life... Merely to see him is to be taught; to hear him is to be instructed; to follow him is to be perfected (Epistle147 PL 189: 1255).

After his death, when the flow of history revealed more distinctly the significance of his work and writings, the greatest of medieval writers, Dante, saw in Bernard the exemplar of the contemplative life. He took him as teacher of divine realities and followed him as guide into the upper regions of Paradise.

uch was I, gazing on the living/ charity of him, who, in this world,/ in contemplation tasted of that Peace./ ... With his love fixed on his delight, that contemplator/ freely assumed the office of a teacher,/ and began these holy words. (Paradiso 31, 109-111; 32, 1-3 cited in Bernard McGinn, "The Growth of Mysticism" vol. II, 162, 163)

"Anamnesis (remembering) is the door to redemption", observed Robert Taft, SJ, with much justice. Jesus already insisted on that truth at the Last Supper when, in respect to the consecration of the bread and wine as his body and blood, he charged his apostles to "Do this in memory of me." Such activation of the memory is, of course, more than a simple recall of the past: it is a communion in the spirit with the one whose life was given for us that spurs us on to imitate his way of thinking and acting. Remembrance of this kind applies first of all to our Lord's passion and death, to his preaching and example of his ministry; but it has reference also to his ongoing care for us and his Church. We are to remember also the lives of sacrifice and fervent dedication of those who in fidelity to his Gospel, developed the implications of the faith and passed it on to us. We have a more particular debt of remembrance to those who created the form of life that we have received in trust together with the spiritual traditions that inspire the structures and practices that constitute our monastic heritage. Every monk should make a more thorough study of the life and writings of at least one of the saintly abbots of our Order and often return to him throughout life so as to grow in understanding and appreciation of our vocation.

As we soon discover, profitably to apply the lessons learned in such an undertaking requires more than a superficial familiarity with his life and works. For what we have received from our fathers is not some ready made structure into which we have only to fit ourselves in order to follow in their path; rather, it is a matter of being formed in the same spirit, so that having actively assimilated their teaching we might apply it to the circumstances of our own time and conditions with the spontaneity of heartfelt conviction. To be sure, we are given many forms of help that assist us in our efforts to do this. We continue to profit from the life that has been transmitted to us by our immediate forebears who themselves carried into practice what they in turn had received from their predecessors. This chain of tradition goes back to Bernard and the founders of our Order, and beyond them through the centuries to the long series of generations of men and women who faithfully lived out their monastic vocation to the end.

Our obligation is first of all to respond in keeping with the same spirit that they had received and lived by. We can hardly hope to do that unless we know, as far as the circumstances of our condition permit, their character, their thought, and their times. This knowledge is obtained as much through fidelity to the same basic practices they dedicated themselves to, as through study and reflection on their writings and the history of their period. This is a life-long task, to be sure. Its success depends more on grace and prayer than on study; it includes these as well as application to the duties and use of opportunities afforded by living in this monastic community. No one of us can alone hope to attain to such a full acquisition of experience and insight as adequately to give full expression to this vocation. Indeed, one of the major features of our life is that it is communal and so requires that each member of the community contributes his own special gifts and graces to the common good. Another characteristic is a keen awareness that the goal set before us is transcendent. It is more than psychological maturity or human fulfillment; rather, it is such that, no matter how far we might progress toward God in this life, we never arrive at the fullness of realization. The purpose of the Cistercian vocation is the attainment of intimate union with God which transcends the conditions of mortal life for it is measured by the infinite being of God himself. The monastic way is the whole of the movement from sin and alienation to likeness through divinization. Accordingly, it is a life-long process of transformation of the person, body and soul. The vow of conversion of manners that we promise at profession engages us not only to observe the specific practices lived in the community of our stability, but to do so in a spirit of inner growth and ongoing development under the influence of grace.

Since the Cistercian way of life, which has been preserved through the centuries and made available to us today, owes so very much to St. Bernard's activity, holiness and teaching, all of us do well to give our reflection and study to his life and works. All the more as the other Cistercian writers count themselves among those he influenced. Bernard and the other outstanding Cistercian authors of the twelfth century, while maintaining in view the high goal set before them realized that it could be reached only by the imitation of Christ. That meant a practical living out of the virtues. In keeping with this sense of the concrete, they were concerned mostly with the moral sense of Scripture that taught the need for humility and purity of heart on the part of those who would see God.

It is consistent with this emphasis that the first of St. Bernard's works takes humility as its theme, and includes a detailed study of its opposite, pride, to assure that the obstacles to this basic virtue of humility are recognized for what they are. Bernard's way of conceiving the virtue of humility is not limited to the observation and analysis of human conduct. It presupposes and includes the contemplation of divine realities, for he defines humility as a particular expression of truth. And knowledge of the truth is the fruit of an experience of God's holiness and eternal attributes. The first point Bernard makes is that Jesus himself taught both the way and the goal. "‘I am' he says, ‘the way, the truth and the life.' He calls the way, humility that leads to truth." (De Gradibus Humilitatibus Et Superbiae I.1 PL 182: 941) He then goes on to give a definition of this virtue that was to become classic and which makes it clear that true humility is a strength of soul and has nothing in common with an inferiority complex which at times passes for this virtue.

Humility is the virtue by which a man, through a most true self knowledge, has a low opi nion of himself. This becomes those who have resolved in their heart to ascend from virtue to virtue, that is to advance from one degree to another until they arrive at the summit of humility, from which point as on Zion, that is to say, the height of observation, they look out upon truth (op. cit. I. 2 183: 492).

There is an organic connection, as it were, between real humility and clear-sighted understanding derived from contemplation of the things of creation and of divine realities. The humble man often can see with greater readiness into the real motives of others for he has searched out his own and has little or nothing to defend against truth. Thus humility disposes one for cultivating honest and open relationships with others as well as for the life of prayer. The person who possess this virtue in a high degree has neither the need to deny his faults and mistakes nor any special talents he may enjoy. He takes responsibility for his faults and, for the proper use of gifts that he accepts as given in trust, to be expended and returned to the giver with interest. He is free, for he is situated in truth and so is sustained by the realities of his own character and of the world in which he finds himself.

Truth, as Bernard states explicitly, is the very person of Jesus, not some philosophical or ethical abstraction. When he ascribes such health-giving powers to the virtue of humility that is the living truth concerning one's own misery, it is to the action of the Lord Jesus in the soul of the humble man that he attributes this acquisition of strength. His exegesis of the well-known passage in Matthew develops this view and introduces the theme of love, showing how it grows out of this practical truth concerning oneself.

"Come to me all you who labor and I will refresh you." He says: "Come!" Where? "To me, the Truth." How? "By humility." For what fruit? "I will refresh you." What is this refreshment which Truth promises to those who ascend and gives when they reach the top? Is it perhaps love ? To this, as St. Benedict says , the monk will quickly arrive when he has ascended all the steps of humility. Truly love is a sweet and delicious food. that refreshes the weary, strengthens the weak, cheers the sad. It makes the yoke of Truth sweet and makes its burden light.(The Steps of Humility and Pride, II.3 PL 182: 243)

In this, his first book, Bernard already has the complete vision of the spiritual journey. He will later modify and elaborate the details as he gains experience and further insight, but the general outline remains intact. He sums up his thought in a passage where he compares the whole trajectory of the spiritual life to a banquet.

Humility has its own contribution to the banquet and graces the dish with the bread of sorrow and the wine of compunction. Truth offers these first to beginners saying: " Rise up after you have been seated, you who eat the bread of sorrow. Contemplation then brings its offering- the solid bread of wisdom made of the finest wheat and the wine which gladdens the heart... Truth does not fail top make provision for the less perfect. "Love is placed in the middle..." (op. cit., II. 4, 32, 33)

These stages mark a growth that is continuous throughout life. The development he envisages is a gradual transformation of the inner dispositions of the soul, that results in changed attitudes that affect his experience of himself, of others and of God. Bernard worked out the dynamics of this transformation and states them clearly in a few lines.

Those then whom Truth has made known to themselves and consequently caused to have a low opinion of themselves, necessarily find that all that they had previously loved, and they themselves, have become bitter to them. Setting themselves before themselves that are constrained to see themselves such as gives them shame. While what they are is displeasing to themselves they aspire to what they are not, but feel diffident that they can manage it of themselves. So they mourn themselves bitterly; their only consolation is the severity with which they judge themselves. Now that they love truth and thirst after justice so that they demand the strictest satisfaction from themselves. But they come to see they do not suffice to attain this... they fly from justice to mercy. In order that they might obtain this mercy they follow the advice of Truth: "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." And this is the second degree of humility (op. cit. V.18 PL 182: 951).

The third stage is finally attained after persevering in these first two, he goes on to explain.

By persevering in these three things just mentioned, that is in the weeping of penance, in the desire for justice and in the works of mercy, they cleanse the eye of the heart from the three impediments contracted by ignorance, weakness and deliberate acts and so by contemplation they pass to the third degree of Truth.

Proceeding from this description of the psychodynamics of this process St. Bernard goes on to show how each of these three stages is related to one of the persons of the Blessed Trinity. Thus the whole process of inner transformation is personalized and seen in its divine as well as human dimension.

As we prepare to celebrate the memory of our Father St. Bernard we can do no better than re-dedicate ourselves to this same work that he himself undertook as a novice, a professed monk and finally as an abbot who labored not only for the good of his own community but for the whole Church. For as well live our vocation in such a way we increasingly realize that we belong not to ourselves but to the Lord and to all those who are his possession. And that our life is not confined to our own limited interests but has meaning and, in God's Providence, importance for many others. To live this contemplative life is then itself a service of mercy and a work of the heart pleasing to God and useful beyond measure to many.

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