After the Lord had fed the multitude, as mentioned in the previous chapter, they sought to make Him a king.1 For they concluded that He was capable of relieving their necessities, and that under such a king it seemed to them that they could never want. But the Lord Jesus, knowing their design, fled from them into a mountain, unknown to them, so that they could not then find Him. Our Lord, therefore, did not will to receive the honours of the world. And see how truly and unfeignedly He avoids them; for He sent away His disciples across the sea, and Himself ascended up into the mountain, so that if they sought Him any further amongst His disciples, they might not find Him. His disciples, however, were unwilling to be separated from Him, but He constrained them to enter into the ship, and to cross the sea. Their desire, indeed, was good, to wish to be always with their Lord ; but He had disposed differently. See, then, with regard to them, how reluctantly they depart from Him, and how the Lord Jesus forces them, signifying to them that it was His wish that they should go into the ship without Him ; upon which they humbly obeyed, however trying and hard it may seem to them. Thus daily does the Lord deal with us. For we would have Him never depart from us, but His pleasure is otherwise ; He goes and returns as He wills, but ever with a view to our profit. Therefore I should like you to hear what S. Bernard says on this conflict. He speaks thus : “When the Spouse has been sought for with watchings and supplications, and with a copious shower of tears, suddenly, whilst He seems to be ours, He escapes ; and then again presenting Himself to us as we weep for and pursue Him, He suffers Himself to be taken ; but not to be detained even for a short space of time, for suddenly again, whilst we think to hold Him, He eludes our grasp; but if the devout soul persist in prayers and tears, He will again return, and will not deny her the request of her lips.2 Yet soon again He will disappear, and be no longer seen, unless He is sought again with the whole desire of the heart. Thus, then, in this present life there may be frequent joy at the presence of the Spouse, yet not fulness of joy ; because, though His visitations bring delight, yet the interchange of presence and absence gives pain. And such vicissitudes the beloved soul must suffer, until once for all, delivered from the burden of the flesh, it makes its escape, and soars aloft on the wings of its desires, truly ranging over the plains of contemplation, and following with unimpeded mind the Spouse whithersoever He goeth. Nor yet even to every soul which has passed beyond this present scene will He so reveal Himself, but only to those who have by great devotion, vehement longing, and sweet affection proved themselves His true spouses, and worthy of receiving the approach and visitation of the Word when clothed in glorious apparel, and with the beauty of the Bridegroom.”3 Again the same Saint says: “Perhaps Jesus thus withdraws Himself, that He might be the more abundantly sought after, and held more firmly. For at one time ‘ He made as though He would have gone further ;4 2 not that He so willed, but He wished to hear, ‘Abide with us, for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent/” And a little afterwards he adds : “This same pious feint, or rather, salutary dispensation, which the Word in the Body sometimes expressed to the body, He does not cease to exercise by His Spirit in a special manner in devout souls now. Passing by, He wills to be invited to stop ; going away, He wishes to be recalled. To go, indeed, is a dispensation of Providence : to return is ever the desire of His will ; but both are full of wisdom, and wrought for purposes known to Himself. It is, then, manifest, that the soul is tried by these vicissitudes of the going away and coming back of the Word, as He Himself says, ‘ I go away, and come again unto you,’ and ‘ a little while and ye shall not see Me, and again a little while and ye shall see Me /5 Oh, a little while, yet not a little while ! Oh, a little while, and yet a long while, dear Lord ! A little while, Thou callest it, and we shall not see Thee. With all reverence for the word of the Lord, it is a long while, and much too long a while ; yet both are true : it is a little while viewed as to our deserts, a long while viewed in reference to our desires. You find both mentioned in the Prophet : ‘ Though it tarry, wait for it ; because it will surely come, it will not tarry/6 How can it both tarry, and not tarry; except that the coming will be expeditious if our deserts, and slow if our desires, are considered ? The soul, indeed, borne forward by its longings, and drawn by its desires, overlooks its merits, closes its eyes to His Majesty, opens them to the joy of seeing Him, trusting in His salvation, and confiding in Him entirely. Fearless at last, and unbashful, the soul recalls the Word, and trustingly invites His embraces, calling Him with wonted freedom, not 4 Lord/ but ‘ Beloved/ saying, i Return, my beloved/”7 Again elsewhere he says, “These alternations cease not in those who are spiritual, or in those rather whom He intends to make spiritual,8 visiting them every morning, and trying them every moment/” 8 Thus far S. Bernard.
You see, then, how the Lord Jesus spiritually visits the soul, and then leaves it, and what the soul at such times ought to do. It is her duty earnestly and persistently to recall Him, and in the meanwhile patiently to bear His absence, and after the example of the disciples, who obeyed Him by going into the ship without Him, to meet the storm, and to expect deliverance through His help. But let us now return to our Lord Jesus. As soon as the disciples had entered into the ship, and put out to sea, He went up into a mountain alone, and so escaped from the hands of those who sought Him. You see with what care and eagerness He fled from and declined the honour of a crown. He gave us an example, that we should do as He has done. For not for His own sake, but for ours, He fled. He knew, indeed, how rash we are apt to become, if we aspire to earthly honours. For honours are amongst the greatest snares that can entangle a soul, and among the greatest burdens for its overthrow which I know, whether it be the honour of prelacy or of secular power, or of learning. For it is almost impossible for men who delight in honours not to be in danger, as one who stands on the brink of a precipice, or rather, which is worse, is already dashed down a precipice ; and this for many reasons which I will show you. First, because the mind inordinately delights in them, and is only concerned in preserving and increasing them. And, “in proportion as any one delights in lower things,” says S. Gregory, 1 “is he alienated from Supernal Love.” Secondly, because such an one is bent on procuring friends, followers, and confederates, through whose instrumentality and co-operation honour is maintained or heightened ; and consequently many things are done which are in conflict with God and conscience, with a view to gratifying such friends, to induce them to lend him their support. In the third place, because he is jealous of those who have honours, and disparages them, that so he may advance himself, and thus he falls into hatred and envy. Fourthly, because he deems himself, and would be deemed by others, worthy of honour, and thus he falls into vanity and pride. But, according to the Apostle, “If any man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceive th himself .” 2 And therefore the Lord says in the Gospel, “When ye have done all those things which are commanded you, say, We are unprofitable servants.”® But when does one desirous of honour say this? Fifthly, because he does not walk according to the Spirit, but according to the flesh, for his mind is not concentrated, neither is it elevated to heavenly things, but is distracted, and dissipated upon a variety of objects. Sixthly and lastly, because as soon as he begins to delight in honours, he becomes so allured by them, that he cannot be satisfied, and daily seeks new and greater honours, and the more he gets the more he thirsts for ; for he ever persuades himself that he is honourable and worthy in some unusual degree, both in his own eyes and in the eyes of others; and thus he falls into ambition, which is the worst vice, and the root and cause of many others. Hear what S. Bernard says of its malignity, and not only what I say. ” Ambition,” says he, “is a subtle evil, and hidden poison, a secret pestilence, the author of deceit, the mother of hypocrisy, the parent of malice, a source of vices, the fuel of crimes, the rust of virtues, the moth of sanctity, the blinder of hearts, creating diseases out of remedies, engendeiing sickness out of medicine. How many has this pestilence wickedly supplanted, and also basely overthrown ; so that others, who had not detected this occult sapper of the foundations, have been suddenly terrified at the sight of their ruin. But what nourishes this worm, so much as distraction of mind and forgetfulness of the Truth. For what but Truth can throw light on the subtleties of this traitor, and discover this work of darkness? Is it not the Truth which says, ‘What is a man profited, if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul? n And again: ”9 Mighty men shall be mightily tormented .’10 Thus does the Truth bring as a solemn suggestion to our minds, how frivolous is the consolation of ambition, how heavy its judgment, how short its gain, how obscure its end. You will remark that the third temptation of the Lord was to ambition, when all the kingdoms of the world were offered, if He would fall down and worship the tempter. You see the path to ambition is the adoration of the devil, and that the honours of the world and the glory thereof are attained on the condition that he is worshipped.11 Elsewhere S. Bernard says, “We are eager to rise, and all desire exaltation ; for we are noble creatures, and have a certain greatness of spirit, and therefore we naturally aspire to exaltation. But woe to us, if we wish to follow him who says, ‘I will sit upon the mount of the covenant, on the sides of the North/12 O wretch, on the sides of the North ! cold is that mountain : we will not follow thee ; thou hast the lust of power, and wouldst presume to take the highest dignity. Yet how many, even to this very day, do follow thy foul and miserable steps ; or rather, how few are there who escape the thraldom of this common vice of ambition. Whom, then, are you following, wretched man ? Whom are you following? Is not this the mount which, when the angel ascended, he became the devil ? And are you not aware, that after his fall, tortured by envy, and wickedly anxious to supplant mankind, he pointed out to them another mountain like unto it, and said, ‘Ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil ’?”13 And a little after S. Bernard adds, “This ambition after power robbed the angel of angelic happiness ; so the desire of knowledge stripped man of the glory of immortality. Let any one try to climb the steep of power, what opponents he will have to encounter, what foes to repel him, what obstacles, how hard a road ! But what if he should succeed in gaining his object ? ‘Mighty men/ says Scripture, ‘shall be mightily tormented /14 and therefore I need not point out what present cares and anxieties the possession of power brings with it. Another man is ambitious of the knowledge which puffeth up ; how he labours for it, what anxiety of mind he suffers ; and yet after all he shall hear, ‘ Though thou burst thyself, thou shalt not attain it15 His eye shall rest in bitterness on any one whom he may see, or whom he may imagine others think, superior to himself. What if he swells himself with conceit? * I will destroy/ saith the Lord, ‘ the wisdom of the wise, and will bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent.’ 1 Without dwelling longer on this subject, you have seen, I think, how we must avoid both mountains, if we tremble at the perdition of the angels, or the fall of man. ‘ Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew, neither let there be rain upon you.’16
Notes: S. Greg. Hom. xxx. in Evang — Gal. vi. 3 — S. Luke xvii. ia.
“But what shall we do ? We must not thus ascend, and yet we are possessed with the desire to rise ; who then shall teach us a wholesome way of ascent? Who but He of whom we read, 4 He that descended, is the same also that ascended ’ ? 8 By Him the right path of ascension has been marked out, so that we might not follow the footsteps or counsel of that wicked leader and seducer. And because there was no one who could ascend, He, the Most High, descended, and by His descent consecrated for us a sweet and salutary ascent. He descended from the height of power, when He clothed Himself with the weakness of our flesh } He descended from the summit of knowledge, when 1 it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe.’ 4 For what can seem more weak than the little tender body and limbs of an infant? What more void of knowledge than a babe, who knows only the mother’s breasts ? Who is more powerless than He whose limbs are all nailed to the cross, whose bones may all be counted ? Who more foolish than He, ‘ who poured out His soul unto death, and paid the things that He never took ’ ?17 Do you see, then, how He who so deeply descended, emptied Himself of His power and of His wisdom ? But He could not ascend higher into the mount of goodness, nor more forcibly commend His charity. Nor is it a wonder that Christ by descending ascended, when both the others by ascending fell .”18 In another place S. Bernard says, “Therefore, my dearly beloved, persevere in the discipline which you have received, that by humility you may ascend to sublimity; because this is the way, and there is no other beside it He who tries any other road falls rather than ascends ; for it is humility alone which ascends, and which exalts, and this only it is which leads to life.,, And again, “O perversity, O ambition of the sons of Adam ! Because when it is most difficult to ascend, but most easy to descend, they ascend with care, and descend with much difficulty, being ever ready for honours, for the highest posts, it may be, ecclesiastical dignities — formidable even for the shoulders of angels to bear. But to follow Thee, Lord Jesus, scarcely any one is found, any one who will suffer himself to be drawn, or desires to be led along the way of Thy commandments.”19 Thus far S. Bernard. From what has been said, it is manifest how you may attain to true honour, namely, by humility, and how the transient and false honour of the world is to be avoided. But, perhaps, some who are ambitious of knowledge and honour, flatter themselves by the specious pretext of gain to souls, as if they would become thereby more capable of promoting the salvation of others. But hear how S. Bernard answers them : “Would that any one who thus enters upon some charge, if it might be so, might as faithfully fulfil it as he confidently thrusts himself into it But it is difficult, nay, perhaps impossible, that from the bitter root of ambition should spring the sweet fruit of love .”20 Thus far S. Bernard. But to arrive at this pitch of contempt for honours, you need to have attained a very high degree of virtue. For, as S. Chrysostom says, “To use honours well is as difficult, as to be in the company of some beautiful young creature, and to obey the law of never looking upon her.” And therefore it is undoubtedly the case, that there is need of a very strong determination for one who possesses power or honour, it he would use it aright.
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Footnotes
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S. John vi. 15. ↩
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Ps. xxi. 2. ↩
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Serm. 32 in Cant. ↩
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S. Luke xxiv. 28. ↩
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S. John xvi. 16. ↩
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Hab. ii. 3. ↩
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Serm. 74 in Cant. ↩
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Serm. 17 in Cant. ↩
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S. Matt. xvi. 26. ↩
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Wisd. vi. 6. ↩
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Serm. 6, super Ps. xci. ↩
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Is. xiv. 13. ↩
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Gen. iii. 5. Serm. 4, de Asc. Dom. ↩
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Wisd. vi. 5. ↩
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Is. xxix. 14 ; 1 Cor. i. 19 ; Obad. 8. 2 2 Sam. i. 21. ↩
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Eph. iv. 10. 4 1 Cor. i. 21. ↩
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Ps. lxix. 5. ↩
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Serm. 4 in Asc. Dom. ↩
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Ibid. ↩
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Serm. ad Cleric. ↩