by Matthew Gaetano
Recent events–political and especially ecclesiastical–have made discussions of fourteenth-century political theology, seventeenth-century Augustinianism, nineteenth-century Romanticism, etc., seem less than timely or appropriate. In light of this situation, I thought that it might be fruitful to see how saints, theologians, and clergymen in the past articulated their cries for reform. A friend recently pointed me to Bernard of Clairvaux’s (d. 1153) sermon On Conversion. He delivered it in Paris in 1140, probably to students from the schools of that city. Apparently, Peter Lombard–the great Master of the Sentences, whose work would give structure to theological instruction and debate into the sixteenth century–was in the audience.
Bernard is an important figure not only because he is a Doctor of the Church and a figure in the reform of Benedictine monasticism that led to the immense growth of the Cistercians but also because he is a key figure in the Augustinian tradition claimed in important ways by the major confessions of Western Christianity. Martin Luther saw Bernard as the greatest figure in the Western Church after Augustine (e.g., here, p. 267). John Calvin not only admired Bernard but also saw him as a critic of the state of the papacy during his time: “What complaints also does Bernard pour forth, what groans does he utter, when he beholds the vices of his own age? What then would he have done on beholding this iron–or, if possible, worse than iron–age of ours? How dishonest, therefore, not only obstinately to defend as sacred and divine what all the saints have always with one mouth disapproved, but to abuse their testimony in favour of the Papacy, which, it is evident, was altogether unknown to them? Though, I admit, in respect to the time of Bernard, that all things were so corrupt as to make it not unlike our own” (Institutes 4.7). Bernard is thus a figure worthy of more attention here at the Regensburg Forum.
On Conversion (translated by G. R. Evans) speaks to major Augustinian themes of the fallenness of man (sec. VI: how the will of man resists the divine voice by gluttony, curiosity, and pride, and by all the fleshly senses) and the necessity of grace (sec. I: that no one can be converted to the Lord unless the Lord wills it first and calls him with an inner voice). In commenting on the Beatitudes, Bernard comes to the issue of ecclesiastical corruption (secs. XIX-XXI, pp. 91-96)). As he puts it, he is criticizing those who have the highest rank of “peacemaker” who have not reached even the lowest rank of a true peacemaker as described in Matthew 5:9.
You steal the keys rather than receiving them. The Lord asks about such through the prophet. “They have reigned but not by me. They have chosen princes but I did not call them to the thrones they occupy” (Hos 8:4). Whence comes such zeal for preferment, such shameless ambition, such folly of human presumption? Surely none of us would dare to take over the ministry of any earthly king, even the most minor, without his instructions … or to seize his benefices or conduct his affairs? Do not suppose then that God will approve of what he endures from those in his great house who are vessels fit for destruction (Rom 9:22).
Many come, but consider who is called. Listen to the Lord’s words in their order. “Blessed,” he says, “are the pure in heart , for they shall see God” and then, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.” The heavenly Father calls the pure in heart who do not seek for themselves but for Christ, and not what will profit them but what will profit many. “Peter,” he says, “do you love me?” “Lord, you know that I love you.” “Feed my sheep,” he replies. For when would he commit such beloved sheep to someone who did not love them? This question of who is found to be a faithful servant is much debated among clerks.
Woe to unfaithful stewards who, themselves not yet reconciled, take on themselves the responsibility for recognizing righteousness in others, as if they were themselves righteous men (Is 68:2). Woe to the sons of wrath (Eph 2:3) who profess that they are ministers of grace. Woe to the sons of wrath who are not afraid to usurp to themselves the rank and name of “peacemaker.” Woe to the sons of wrath who pretend to be mediators of peace, and who feed on the sins of the people. Woe to those who, walking in the flesh, cannot please God (Rm 8:8) and presume to wish to please him.
Bernard believes that “sons of wrath” were usurping the role that ought to be ruling–under God–through love, through feeding the sheep of Christ. He speaks a word of woe to such usurpers. Reconciliation with God must take place before one takes up the role of leading others on the path of God’s righteousness. One must be pure in heart before one can be a peacemaker; there is an order to the Beatitudes. He continues with an even clearer application of these words to the leadership of the Church in his day:
We do not wonder, my brothers, we who take pity on the present state of the Church; we do not wonder at the basilisk which arises from the serpent-root (Is 14:29). We do not wonder if he who wanders from the way the Lord has laid down steals the grapes from the Lord’s vineyard (Is 5:7; Ps 79:13). For the man who has not yet heard in his heart the voice of the Lord calling him (Is 46:8), or if perhaps he begins to hear it, he takes flight back into the undergrowth to hide (Gn 3:9-10), impudently appropriates the rank of peacemaker and takes the place which belongs to a son of God. As a result he has not yet stopped sinning, but is still dragging a long rope. He has not yet become a man who perceives his own poverty (Lam 3:1). He says, “I am rich, and in need of nothing,” although he is poor and naked and wretched and pitiable (Rv 3:17). He has nothing of the spirit of gentleness (1 Cor 4:21) with which he could instruct those who are caught in sin (Gal 6:1), bearing in mind his own susceptibility to temptation. He knows nothing of compunction. Rather, he rejoices when he has done wrong and exults in his worst deeds (Prv 2:14). He is one of those to whom the Lord says, “Woe to you who laugh now, for you will weep” (Lk 6:25). He desires money, not justice (Lk 1:78). His eyes are caught by anything which is showy (Jb 41:25). He hungers insatiably for honor and thirsts for human glory. He has no bowels of mercy (Col 3:12). Rather, he rejoices in his anger and behaves like a tyrant. He seeks to make a profit from piety (1 Tm 6:5). What am I to say about the purity of his heart? Would that he had not given it over to forgetfulness like a dead man who has no thoughts (Ps 30:3). Would that he were not a “dove gone astray and having no heart” (Hos 7:11). The bodily garment is found to be stained; would that even the outside were clean, so that he could obey at least in part him who says, “Be clean, you who bear the vessels of God” (Is 52:1).
Bernard grieves over the state of the Church. Those who have the office of peacemakers are not the true peacemakers blessed by Christ in Matthew 5. These usurping office-holders do not recognize their own poverty, their own nakedness, their own susceptibility to temptation. They are greedy for money and honor and glory but impatient and even tyrannical with those whom they govern. They have “nothing of the spirit of gentleness”; they have “no bowels of mercy.” So their sinfulness makes them inattentive to their own weakness and thus incapable of shepherding the sheep.
In the next section, Bernard says that he is not accusing everyone. “The Lord has left himself many thousands,” he said; “otherwise, if their righteousness did not excuse us and the Lord of Sabaoth had not left us a holy seed, we should have been overwhelmed long ago like Sodom and punished like Gomorrah.” There are in the Church of his day at least the number of faithful famously brought up by Abraham which could have spared the evil city of Sodom. But Bernard observes that the growing size of the Church has not produced greater joy–indeed, “merit seems to have decreased as much as numbers have increased.” Then he turns his attention to the clergy themselves:
Everywhere people are rushing to join sacred orders, and they seize with neither reverence nor consideration upon ministries which the angels themselves regard with veneration. For the ungodly do not fear to take up the banner of the heavenly kingdom or to wear he crown of its jurisdiction, men in whom greed rules, ambition gives the orders, pride holds sway, iniquity is enthroned, lust the principal ruler. If, following the prophecy of Ezekiel, we were to dig under the wall to see something horrible in God’s house, in these men the worst abomination would perhaps appear within the walls (Ez 8:8). Truly, having committed fornication and adultery and incest (1 Cor 6:9; 1 Cor 5:1), some do not fail to go on to ignominious passions and nameless deeds (Rom 1:26). Would that these things … were not still being committed today. Would that the Apostle did not need to write these things, nor we to speak of them. Would that when we speak of such abominable things ever crossing any man’s mind, no one would believe us.
Bernard wishes that the sins of his own time–committed by those in sacred orders–would be unthinkable. He wishes that such acts would be so alien to the lives of the people of God that moral instruction in these areas would be basically unnecessary.
Bernard again points to the destruction of Sodom. He points to the fires of hell. Then he says, in what is the most arresting passage (in my judgment):
Woe, woe, the enemy of men has strewn the wretched remnants of that sulfurous burning all around; with its disgusting ashes he has sprinkled the body of the Church (Col 1:18), and even some of her ministers, too, with its most fetid and foul matter! Alas, “a chosen people, a royal priesthood a holy nation, a people for possession” (1 Pt 2:9), who at first were flowing with the divine and spiritual graces of Christian religion, is it to be believed that such things could ever be found in you? Marked with this stain they enter the tabernacle of the living God. With this ark on them they dwell in his temple, polluting the Lord’s holy place; they will receive a multiple condemnation, because they carry such burdened consciences and nevertheless enter God’s sanctuary. Such not only do not please God; they anger him.
Bernard then asks whether such men should have remained in the rank of the faithful people rather than take on the more severe judgment associated with the “high rank of the clergy.” After these warnings, Bernard exhorts his auditors to repentance and shows them the grace and mercy of God in the midst of this sinful generation:
Do not let the profession of perfection turn to mockery. … Does chastity not stand in danger from pleasure, humility from riches, piety from worldly business, truth from chattering, love from this wicked world? Flee from the midst of Babylon, flee and save your souls. Fly to the cities of refuge where you can do penance for past sins and also obtain grace in the present and confidently await future glory. Let not consciousness of sins hold you back, for where sins abound, grace abounds the more (Rom 5:20). Let not the severity of penance deter you, for the sufferings of this present time are nothing in comparison with past sin, which is forgiven, nor with the glory to come which is promised to us. And there is no bitterness that the prophet’s meal cannot sweeten or wisdom, the tree of life, make delicious.
If you do not believe words, believe deeds. … Nothing is impossible to those who believe. Nothing is difficult for those who love. Nothing is harsh to the meek. Nothing is hard to the humble, who are assisted by grace (Jas 4:6) and whose obedience is under the tender command of devotion. Why do you walk in great and wonderful things which are beyond you? It is a great and wonderful ting to be a minister of Christ and a steward of God’s mysteries (1 Cor 4:1). The order of peacemakers is far above you, unless perhaps you prefer to leap rather than climb, and leave out the stages which come first. … But it is difficult, perhaps impossible , for the sweet fruit of love to ripen from the bitter root of ambition. I say to you, yet not I but the Lord, “When you are called to the wedding-feast sit down in the lowest place, for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled and he who humbles himself will be exalted.
After this call to humility for all Christians but especially those with an office in the Church, he comes back to the main text: “Blessed are the peacemakers.” It is not those who call for peace who are blessed but those who make peace. There are those, Bernard says, who talk but do nothing. Just as it is not hearers of the law who are righteous (Rom 2:13), so “it is not those who preach but the authors of peace who are blessed.” “Would that today’s Pharisees,” he continued, “would at least say what they ought, even if they do not do it. Would that those who do not wish to preach the gospel unless they are paid might at least preach it for money. Would that they preached the Gospel if only so that they could eat!” Bernard obviously wants true shepherds, but he thinks that the Church of his day does not even have enough “hirelings” (Jn 10:12). Indeed, many who should be shepherds were the wolves endangering the flock.
Bernard concludes–pointing to the next Beatitude, i.e., “blessed are the persecuted”–by saying that the willingness to suffer is what shows the conformity of the shepherds to the Good Shepherd who laid down His life for His sheep. Humility, weakness, and openness to suffering for Christ and for His righteousness were far from the pursuit of wealth, glory, and power, and the worldly ambition that Bernard saw all around him.