Bernard

The Search for Beauty

    When I was a newcomer to the monastery, I was intrigued by the Cistercian Sign Language with which the sisters here use to communicate in places and times of greater silence.  The signs are a very limited form of communication, but helpful for maintaining a quiet atmosphere.  The use of signs not only reflect the Cistercian value of silence, but also reveals to me other, less obvious values, such as the quest for beauty.  I was intrigued by how often the sisters used word “beautiful” not only as a sign, but also in verbal communications.  It seemed that one could hardly have a conversation in the monastery without the appearance of that word!

    “Beautiful” can express a variety of pleasantries.  It is used to indicate physical or outward attractiveness, or something that is appealing to the senses, or even cleanliness.  More often, however, in the monastery, it is used to describe an inner beauty or genuine goodness – something that is perhaps hidden from immediate attention, but is there nonetheless.  When a sister describes a person as beautiful, it does not necessarily imply that the person has celebrity attractiveness.   Rather, (and more importantly) it usually means the person has a pure, deep, and radiating beauty – a beauty that the world often bypasses for what is eye-catching.  We find true beauty inwardly in the hearts of ourselves, of others, and of God Himself. 

    As monastics, when we live at the heart level, we can indeed find beauty in hidden places all day long.  I believe that this abundant use of the word “beauty” is in fact linked to our daily search for Beauty – God Himself, the author and creator of all that is beautiful.  We have oriented our entire lives to seeking God, who is all beauty, all goodness, and all truth. 

    St. Bernard articulates his sentiments about hidden beauty in his 28^th Sermon.  At the time of his death, Jesus’ outward appearance was that of a criminal on a cross, being tortured to death.  Ordinarily, witnessing capital punishment is not seen as an occasion of great beauty or goodness.  Yet, St. Bernard reminds us that outward looks may deceive.  Indeed, what seemed to be ugly was in fact hidden beauty, and known through faith alone.  St. Bernard writes:

    We see one thing and believe another.  Our senses tell us he is black, our faith declares him fair and beautiful. . . He is black then, but beautiful:  black in the opinion of Herod, beautiful in the testimony of the penitent thief, in the faith of the centurion. . . The man who cried out: ‘Truly this man was the Son of God!’  certainly perceived how great his beauty was.  But where he perceived that beauty to lie is for us to ascertain.  For supposing he considered only what his eyes beheld, in what way was this man beautiful, how was he the Son of God? . . . It was the sound of his voice that inspired his belief, it was by the voice that he recognized the Son of God, and not by the face.  (SC 28: 3 – 4).

    For those who search with eyes and ears of faith, the Word of Truth is revealed and will not deceive.  St. Bernard invites us to be prepared to receive the Word and its Beauty into our hearts, and not to be like those who were “put off by the blackness in the curtains . . . (and) failed to glimpse the beauty beneath.” (SC 28:11)  Not only are we to witness Jesus’ beauty but we, too, are invited to be transformed into His beautiful image.  “Become beautiful and then touch me; live by faith and you are beautiful.” (SC 28:10)

    Let us continue our daily search for the Beautiful One every day as we live by faith, listening to His words of love spoken to our hearts.  May we all be transformed by God’s grace into the image of His Beautiful Son.

Sr. Francesca Molino, Wrentham

Faith Comes By Hearing

     This Sermon 28 (like so many others by St Bernard) reminds me of the festive meals our own chef supreme, Sr Kathy, prepares for Christmas, Easter and other grand occasions – so much to choose from!  It is tempting to take several spoon/fork-fulls of everything – but if you try this, your plate soon overflows.  Better to take a very small amount of each portion or to concentrate one’s appetite on just two or three of the offerings!

     Faced with all the richness offered in this sermon, I made the hard choice of concentration on #4 through #9, and the theme that most engages me there – the primacy of faith, and the faith that comes through hearing rather than vision.

     Being myself more audio than visual, I am touched more deeply by music than by a beautiful sculpture, more by the pounding of the waves of the sea than by a lovely painting of the ocean.  Or maybe it is truer to say that I am prepared to appreciate the sculpture by the previous experience of the music – and made ready for the loveliness of the painting by the impact of the sound of the waves.

     At any rate, I am moved by all the ways in which Bernard drives home the truth of his premise in this section that faith precedes vision – and that this faith comes to us through hearing.

    "And when the Centurion, who stood facing him, saw that he thus cried out and breathed his last, he said: ‘Truly this man was the Son of God!’  It was the sound of his voice that inspired his belief, it was by the voice that he recognized the Son of God, and not by the face.  Perhaps he was one of those sheep of whom Christ said: “My sheep hear by voice.”  (SC 28:4)   Have I thought enough of the sound of Jesus’ voice at that moment?  I was not there physically as was the centurion, but can I not still hear his voice in my heart when I remember his blessed passion?  Or when I think upon his resurrection to Mary Magdalen and hear him call my name as well?  Does he not desire to do this?

  To hear, though, I obviously need to be listening.  “Speak, O Lord, your servant is listening.” (1 Sam 3:10; SC 28.6)  And listening in such a way as to be ready to respond, to obey.  “Here I am; you called me” (1 Sam 3:8)  (When I use this phrase as a prayer word throughout the day, I like to reverse the phrases: “You called me.  Here I am!”)

   St Bernard begins Section 7 with a lovely progression of thought: “To assure you that the Holy Spirit follows this order in promoting the soul’s spiritual welfare, enabling it to hear before gladdening it with vision, Scripture says: ‘Hear, O daughter, and see.’ (Ps 44:11)  So why strain with your eyes?  Prepare rather to hear.  Do you wish to see Christ?  The first thing for you to do is to hear him, to hear about him, so that when you do see you may say: ‘As we have heard, so have we seen.’ (Ps 47:9)  His glory is immense, the scope of the eye is meager and cannot attain to it. (Ps 138.6)  But where the eye fails, the ear succeeds.  So when God cried out: ‘Adam, where are you?’ (Gen 3:9) I could no longer see him because I was a sinner, but I heard him.  The hearing, if it be loving, alert and faithfull, will restore the sight….obedience will open what disobedience closed.” (SC 28. 7 passim)

    In section 9 Bernard speaks of the obedience of faith, “…the surer knowledge of faith, which discerns truths unknown to the senses, beyond the range of experience.  When he said: ‘Do not touch me,’ (Jn 20:17) he meant: depend no longer on this fallible sense; put your trust in the word, get used to faith.  Faith cannot be deceived.” (SC 28:9)  And later on he speaks of the outcome of this faith, speaking of the ascended Christ. “And yet he could be touched, but by the heart, not by the hand, by desire, not by the eye; by faith, not by the senses.” (SC 28.9)

   What will it be like, when this simple and childlike faith, this staunch and determined faith gives way to vision?  “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard…what God has prepared for those who love him.” (1 Cor 2:9; SC 28.9)

Our Truth is God, our identity is God.  Outwardly, we see who we are in our humanity, within; who we are is seen in God.  It’s living the life of the Spirit that we get in touch with truth, in the midst of our human nature and our weaknesses.  It’s all about seeing and hearing with grace, with love, God’s life in us.

We are created in the image and likeness of God.  This moves us to be still, in awe, to realize who we are in the mind and heart of God. We can pay so much attention to our very human needs that we only hear these calling us to selfishness, to self indulgence.

Our coenobitic life is a gift to continually call us, to remind us that life is “not about me”, but about living God’s life of love, a life for others, a life in communion, that we  celebrated not long ago on Trinity Sunday.  This is the communion of light and love of the Father, Son and Spirit. We were created to share in this communion.

In our humanness, we can even come to glimpse this communion, ever so faintly in our life – just a passing moment of recognition, of grace, of intimacy – of faith in Christ and his life in us.  There are those moments too, of invitation by Christ, into deeper recognition of who he is for us. In those powerful times of unity, you just don’t know where that comes from. But you feel overwhelmed by the call to intimacy.  Or it may be a fleeting knowledge of His presence inviting you to “see Him” all of a sudden in your life and feel his presence.  These are His wonderful invitations to have faith in him. What a grace!  Can we believe what we experience as part of our call to be Cistercians? Can we receive the grace.

Of course, we as frail humans need to hear over and over this truth, to somehow finally come to ownership of it so that we act out of what we hear and experience what we receive from God.  It’s hearing that enables us to fulfill what the psalmist promises in Psalm 86:  I will praise you God and glorify your name.   Then it’s back to your awareness of self, of your great need for Jesus, to heal you, to strengthen you, to forgive you.

So our life is then a call to hear with the heart as Benedict instructs us. And there is our prayer.  Can we fathom this great mystery of God seeking us, desiring us, wanting us in relationship? Once we have this experience ever so fleetingly, there is no turning back.  The joy is too great, the mystery to sublime.  We keep seeking. Our prayer now has deeper meaning, a new focus, an openness to the heart to God.

How many times there is that life changing word given that goes to the heart.  Psalm 70 today was my prayer, as I heard those words, it pierced my heart again.  A sinner in need of repentance, in need of God, so I would resist temptation:  “O God, make haste to help me. Lord come to my aid.”  Lord Jesus Christ, son of the living God, have mercy on me.

Our life together strips away any distraction and helps us to see ourselves as we truly are full of temptations.  Every weakness becomes so evident, so pronounced in our life focused on God. You begin to realize how great a sinner you are. It’s like being under a microscope.  We see it all, the underneath, the hidden, the real, the needful parts, the sorrowful realities, the hurts, the poverty and the grace.  In Christ – we change it all,

transform it all - into life with Him.  There is the mystery.  There is the grace. There is the truth of who we truly are. 

Fr Joe Tedesco, Mepkin