Vigils Reading – St Bernard

A reading from a letter by

POPE JOHN PAUL THE FIRST

◊◊◊

You were a great monk and, in quite an original way, a great statesman.

There was a moment when Clairvaux was more important than Rome:

emperors and popes turned to you, kings, feudal lords, vassals. You initiated a

Crusade: an action much debated today, but then part of the system.

On the other hand, in your outspoken defense of the Jews, you were,

prophetically, opposed to the anti-Semitism of the time. You did not mince

words! To a pope you wrote: “For you I do not fear the sword or poison, but the

pride of ruling.” And to the king of France, who named an abbot to the post of

seneschal (that is to say generalissimo), you wrote: “Now what will happen?

Will the new seneschal say Mass with helmet…or will he lead the troops wearing

surplice and stole?”

Others in the Middle Ages had led Europe by wielding a sword. You, by

wielding your pen, with letters that were sent off in all directions and of which,

unfortunately, only a part survive today: about five hundred.

Most of these deal with ascetic matters. But there is one, the twenty-

fourth in the Collected Letters, which contains a synthesis of your Christian

view of government; this letter became a classic under extraordinary

circumstances.

There was a Conclave in progress. The cardinals were vacillating among

three candidates, one favored because of his holiness, the second because of his

great learning, the third because of his practical sense.

One cardinal put an end to the indecision, quoting, in fact, your letter. “It

is futile to hesitate any more,” he said; “our situation is already contemplated in

the twenty-forth letter of the Doctor Mellifluous. We have only to apply it and

everything will proceed as smooth as silk. Is the first candidate saintly? Very

well… let him say some Paternosters for us poor sinners. Is the second

candidate learned? This delights us… Let him write some erudite book. Is the

third prudent?… Let him govern us, let him become Pope.”

In view of all this, dear abbot, why not resume your old profession and

write some letters, with the charity of useful advice, to me, a poor bishop, and to

other Christians who face numerous difficulties in serving the public? A monk’s

voice, from the depths of the Middle Ages, resounding in the complicated

dynamism of modern life! It is a possibility of doing good. Exploit it, please,

Father Abbot!