SR
← Speculum caritatis (The Mirror of Charity)/Book 1 · Speculum caritatis — Liber I
Chapter 34SpCar.1.34

Interveniente morte amici, triplicis concupiscentiae consideratio differtur, et in ejus epitaphium primus hic liber terminatur.

The Threefold Desire and the Arrival of Grief

Aelred introduces the three concupiscences of 1 John 2:16 but is interrupted by the death of his beloved friend Simon, whose loss overwhelms him with grief and premonitory fear.

And so these three things need to be considered, which the holy apostle describes as being in the world: the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, and the pride of life (1 John 2).✦ Lest whatever we endure that is less pleasant under the Lord's yoke should turn out to proceed from the poisonous root of these passions. But grief prevents me from going further, and the recent death of my Simon drives me violently toward the business of weeping instead. From this, perhaps, that nocturnal fear, agitating my mind. From that terror of dreams, snatching away the rest I needed — because, clearly, my most beloved was suddenly about to be snatched from the earth. And it's no wonder if my mind, by a certain disturbance within itself, foresaw his departure — whose life it had so delightfully enjoyed. Look — now the fear I feared has come upon me, and what I dreaded has happened.✦ What should I hide?

The Permission to Weep

Aelred urges himself to give voice to his sorrow, calls on friends for compassion, and addresses Simon directly—rejoicing that his friend feasts in the kingdom while asking leave to pour out his tears.

Why am I silent? Maybe that's why this trouble still hangs over me. Let it come to my eyes, let it come to my tongue — what is hidden in my heart. Maybe through drops of tears and drops of words, the grief conceived deep within my inmost heart will pour out from this aching heart. Have mercy on me, have mercy on me, all you who are my friends, because the hand of the Lord has struck me (Job 19).✦ You wonder at me weeping — but wonder far more that I go on living. For who would not marvel that Aelred lives on without Simon — unless that person never knew how sweet it was to live together, and how sweet it would have been to go home together? So bear patiently with my tears, my groaning, the cry of my heart. And you, my beloved — though you have been brought into the joy of your Lord, to feast delightfully at the table of that great Father of the household, drinking the new wine of the vine in the kingdom of your Father, joyfully celebrating with your Jesus — still, allow me to pour out my tears for you, to release my heart's affection for you, and to give back to you, if it can be done, my whole soul.✦

Simon's Astonishing Conversion

Aelred defends his tears as born of love, not faithlessness, and launches into praise of Simon's remarkable conversion—a youth of noble birth and beauty who, like Abraham, left all to follow Christ.

Don't hold back these tears, which the sweet memory of you, my dearest brother, draws out. Let this groan of mine not be a burden to you — it's not stirred up by despair, but by love. And don't restrain these tears, which devotion draws forth, not any failure of faith. And surely, if you remember where you came from, what you escaped, and where you left that close friend of yours — you'll see clearly how justified my grief is, how worthy of tears this wound of mine. So let me go for a while, that I may grieve my sorrow a little. Mine — for your death is not something to be wept over. So praiseworthy, so lovable, so welcome to everyone was the life that went before it. That astonishing conversion of yours commends it, that life of yours that deserves to be proclaimed, that blessed perseverance of yours. Truly, your conversion was astonishing! For who would not be stunned, who would not marvel, that a boy so young and tender, distinguished in birth, remarkable in beauty, should have seized upon such a path — and seized it in such a way? You departed, my sweet brother, knowingly unknowing and wisely untaught; like that first patriarch, you went out from your own land, from your own family, and from your father's house (Gen.✦

Drawn by the Fragrance of Christ

Simon is portrayed as a soul inflamed by divine love, running after Christ—the Beautiful One anointed with the Spirit—along steep and humble paths, drawn by the fragrance of His poverty, humility, and grace.

You were going where you did not know, coming to what you could not foresee. But the One who was leading you knew — he who had already set your still-tender heart ablaze with the flame of his love, and you were running toward the fragrance of his ointments.✦ He went before you — that One beautiful in form beyond the sons of men, anointed with the oil of gladness above his companions (Ps.✦ He was anointed with the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and fortitude, the spirit of knowledge and piety (Isai.✦ And you were running to the fragrance of those ointments (Cant.✦ 1). He went before you — that humble spiritual one — along steep and mountainous paths, scattering his path with spices of myrrh and frankincense and every powder of the perfumer; and you were running to the fragrance of those ointments.✦ The child Jesus went before his child, showing him the manger of his poverty, the couch of his humility, the chamber of his love — filled with the flowers of his grace, rich with the honey of his sweetness, sprinkled with the balsam of his consolation — and you were running to the fragrance of those ointments.✦

Holy Folly: Eating Grass and Receiving Grace

Simon's radical detachment is illustrated through his near-starvation on the road, his decision to eat grass in trust, and Aelred's wonder at the sweetness he found—revealing that it was Jesus in his heart that made the hay sweet.

I don't know what great and ineffable thing that soul had already tasted in advance — a soul that believed hay was to be set before its little body as fodder, as though it were a beast of burden collapsing from hunger. The devout boy fled from his father's face — and yet he ran all the more toward his father's face. He chose to forget his own people and his father's house, so that the King, the King's Son, might desire His own beauty — and the two might become one spirit, and so that through grace He might become the father of the one who by nature is His Son. O marvelous devotion! O marvelous self-forgetfulness! It was not enough for the emulator of the venerable patriarch Joseph to leave the Egyptian woman with the cloak by which he was held fast (Gen.✦ xxxix), slipping away naked from the hands of the one who clutched him — but he was also a vigorous executor of evangelical perfection, and gave no thought to the morrow.✦ And so, setting out on a grueling journey with scarcely any provisions, his limbs already failing from hunger, he said, 'I have heard that the servants of Christ are fed on grass.' Why not us too? Turning aside a little from the road, he began to nibble at the grass. "Oh," he said, "how sweet!" "Good boy — what did it taste like to you?" "What was it, I ask — was that herb faith, or was the hay love?" "It tasted wonderful — but it was Jesus in his heart, and that's why the hay was in his mouth." "Where, I ask you — where did the boy get these things?" "These things are yours, Lord Jesus — you who give and receive, who bestow and demand an account." "For who gives you anything that isn't already yours?"

All Is Yours: Grace Received and Offered

Aelred reflects that Simon could offer nothing to God that he had not first received; his devotion, faith, and love were all gifts of grace, which he received and returned to the Lord.

But even if someone should wish to give what he has not received from you, you don't deign to accept it. So this boy received, Lord Jesus; he received from you, and gave back; he received, and he offered. He received and offered this devotion of mind, this fervor of faith, this ardor of love.

Simon Resting in the Bosom of Abraham

Aelred offers a prayer of thanksgiving that Simon has been received into Abraham's bosom, turning from grief to joy on his friend's behalf while acknowledging his own sorrow at being left behind.

All this is yours, Lord — you who marked the first stirrings of his conversion with these miracles, who afterward received the pleasing sacrifice of his devoted life, and who have now mercifully carried up that most acceptable whole burnt offering into your lofty temple. There, in the bosom of Abraham, my Simon rests — my dearest friend, and your poor one, Lord Jesus. There he rests, carried over from death to life, from toil to rest, from misery to happiness.✦ Look — I who had begun to grieve have found a reason to rejoice. I have truly found it — but in you, my beloved brother, not in myself. Do not weep for me, he says, but weep for yourselves (Luke 23).✦ 23). For you, my beloved brother, I rejoice with you — but for myself I grieve. For you there is reason to rejoice — but I am to be wept over, I am to be grieved for, I who can live without Simon.

The Wound of Loss

Aelred gives voice to the visceral agony of living without Simon, comparing his loss to ripped-out entrails and invoking the biblical laments of Jacob, Joseph, and David for their beloved dead.

It's strange, though — if I can even be called alive — I, from whom so great a portion of my life has been torn away; so sweet a comfort in my pilgrimage; so singular a relief from my misery. It's as if my own guts have been ripped out, as if my wretched soul has been torn to pieces. And is this what you call living? O miserable, O grievous life! To live without Simon. The patriarch Jacob wept for his son (Gen. xxxvii): Joseph wept for his father (Gen. 1): holy David wept for his dearest Jonathan (II Reg.

Simon: Son, Father, Friend

Aelred weeps for Simon as son, father, and friend combined, longing to die with him in a David-like cry, yet recognizing that such a wish would serve only his own comfort, not Simon's good.

1). One Simon was all these things to me. A son in age, a father in holiness, a friend in love. Weep, then, wretched one — weep for your most beloved father, weep for your most loving son, weep for your sweetest friend. Let the floodgates of this wretched head break open; let my eyes pour down tears through day and night. Weep, I say — not because he has been taken up, but because you have been left behind. My father, my brother, my son — who will grant me to die with you? For I would not wish it for your sake.

The Death of the Godly and the Mercy of God

Aelred reflects that David's wish to die for Absalom was fitting only for a sinner; it would be pious to die for the godless so they might repent, but the righteous who have gone to rest must not be called back into misery.

For this would not have been to your advantage, but rather to mine. The holy David said this about his parricidal son: 'Absalom, my son, my son Absalom — who would grant that I might die for you?' (2 Kings xviii.) Did he say this about his friend Jonathan? Did Joseph say this about his own father? It should have been said about a parricide; it should have been said about a sinner, because the death of sinners is the worst. It would have been a pious thing to wish to die for the godless — so that there might be one who would repent, one who would weep, one on whom God might have mercy, and who would not perish forever. But those who had been carried over to rest were not to be called back any further into this misery; they were not to be subjected again to so many fears, so many sorrows.

Rachel Weeping and the Refusal of Consolation

Aelred interprets Rachel's refusal of consolation: she would not have her sons recalled from blessedness to misery, but longed rather to be taken up to them—a pattern Aelred applies to his own grief and hope.

And so Rachel, weeping for her children, refused to be comforted (Jer. 31). What was she weeping for? Affection. Yet that affection would be comforted if her child were called back from the dead, if the mother could enjoy his presence once more. This Rachel refused. Why? Because if he were called back from the dead, he would be cast down from blessedness into misery. Yet she did not want her son called back — but rather that she herself be taken up to her son, into rest. Affection longed for her sons, lest they be called back, but reason stood in the way of affection; and divine providence was delaying the mother's assumption. So Rachel, weeping for her sons, refused to be consoled.1 I face a similar situation. I grieve that my most beloved, my one heart, was snatched away from me; I rejoice that he has been taken up into eternal dwellings. Affection seeks the sweet presence of him in which it once delighted; but reason does not consent that my soul, so beloved to me, now freed from the flesh, should again be subjected to the miseries of the flesh. My soul longs, together with her own portion, to enjoy the embrace of Christ; but my weakness stands in the way, my wickedness stands in the way, and even divine providence stands in the way. Certainly the one who was ready has gone in with the bridegroom to the wedding feast; but for me, wretched as I am, the door is still closed (Matt. 25). Would that, Lord Jesus, would that it be opened to me someday!

Treasure Sent Ahead

Aelred declares that he has sent Simon as his firstfruits and treasure before him, resolving to follow Christ as Simon did—humbly, tranquilly, and with restrained fickleness—so that he may enjoy God in his friend.

I hope, Lord, in your mercy that it may someday be opened. I have sent my first fruits ahead; I have sent my treasure ahead; I have sent ahead no small part of myself. May what remains of me follow you. Where my treasure is, there let my heart be also. I will follow his ways here, Lord, so that I may enjoy fellowship with you in him. I could indeed, Lord, though with slow foot, when his devout way of life was set before my eyes here; when, seen, his humility blunted my pride; when, considered, his tranquility restrained my restlessness; when my fickleness was reined in by the bridle of his wonderful gravity. I remember how often, when my eyes were running here and there, I was soaked in such shame at a single look from him that, suddenly withdrawing into myself, I would, by the hand of his gravity, restrain all that fickleness and, gathering myself to myself, begin with myself to engage in something profitable. At the same time, the authority of our order indeed forbade me to speak, but his gaze spoke to me, his walk spoke to me, his very silence spoke to me.

Simon's Final Year of Silent Watchfulness

Aelred recalls Simon's last year of life—his deep calm, silence, and withdrawal into interior solitude, bearing the yoke of discipline and weakness with patient obedience, like the man of Lamentations who sits alone and keeps silent.

A modest gaze, a measured walk, seriousness in conversation, silence without bitterness. Then in the last year of his life, as if already aware of his coming calling, with what deep calm, what peace, what careful watchfulness he lived!2 It was as if, forgetful of everything around him — even of me — and enclosed within the narrow chambers of his own mind, he had portrayed that man more vividly whom the prophet Jeremiah describes when he says: It is good for a man to bear the yoke from his youth; let him sit alone and keep silent, for he has taken it upon himself (Thren.✦3 iii). Indeed, he took up the yoke of your discipline, Lord Jesus, while still in the bloom of youth, choosing that narrow way which leads to life — to eat his bread by the sweat of his face, and to submit his own judgment to another's.4 He also bore the heavy yoke of weakness from his youth onward — through eight years, I believe, to the very end of it — without any interruption, with a father's loving discipline.5 And so, finding almost nothing outwardly to take pleasure in, he had withdrawn into the inner solitude of his own mind — sitting alone and silent, yet not idle or slothful in his stillness. For he was either writing or reading or meditating on Scripture — to whom a watchful mind was given, and who fixed his attention more inwardly. He scarcely spoke even with his old friend, except about what was necessary.

Deaf and Mute: The Model Withdrawn

Simon walked as one deaf and mute, his silence full of sweetness rather than bitterness, and Aelred laments the loss of this model of his life—wondering where to turn and whom to follow now.

He walked as though he were deaf, not hearing, and as though he were mute, not opening his mouth — become like a man who neither hears nor has any reproof on his lips.✦✦ But if anyone happened to approach him with any greeting at all, once the opportunity presented itself, immediately such sweetness breathed forth in his speech, and such cheerfulness appeared in his countenance without any trace of looseness, that you could see how his silence was empty of bitterness and full of tenderness — and both his manner of speaking and his cheerfulness were well worth hearing. See what I have lost — see what I have been robbed of. Where have you gone, O model of my life, the very shaping of my character? Where have you gone? Where have you withdrawn? What am I to do? Where can I turn? Whom should I now set before myself to follow?

Torn from the Embrace

Aelred mourns that Simon departed while he was absent, recalling the deep spiritual bond between them and wondering whether Simon spared them both the pain of a final parting.

How you were torn from my embrace, taken from before my eyes! I held you close, beloved brother — not with the body, but with the heart. I kissed you — not with a touch of the lips, but with the affection of the mind. I loved you, for from the very beginning of my conversion you welcomed me into friendship, you showed yourself more intimate to me than anyone else, and in the deepest parts of your soul you bound me to Hugh as one of your own. Such was the love you bore toward us both, so alike the affection, so single the devotion, that — as I seem to have gathered from your words — your heart preferred neither to the other, though sound reason would judge his holiness to be, in my case, clearly to be preferred.6 So why did you go away while I was absent? Why did you not wish to be present — you, the one person I had in place of two, as I departed? Did you think it best to spare us both — you and me alike — so that your departure would not afflict me with the sight of it, and so that my grief would not sadden or even slightly disturb your joyful and peaceful going forth?7

A Peaceful Passing

Aelred believes divine mercy carried Simon's soul away in perfect calm, so that he scarcely feared death; the deathbed scene reveals a cheerful man whose passing seemed like sleep, and Aelred taunts death for gaining only the tabernacle, not the soul.

Or perhaps — and this is what I'm more inclined to believe — divine mercy was looking after you alone, so that it would carry that soul, tranquil and peaceful, from the miseries of this life into the homeland you longed for, with perfect calm, and would loosen the bond of its bodily dwelling so gently that you were scarcely even aware, so that not even the slightest fear of death would disturb the soul it loved?89 Finally, the one who was lying beside you on your bed detected in you no sign of approaching death. On the contrary, your face grew more cheerful, your conversation came more easily, and the hope of recovering your health grew stronger.1011 Moreover, when you had gently laid back your head and breathed your last, he believed you had merely fallen asleep — not that you had died.✦1213 So it was arranged for you, my beloved brother — you who passed over with such great tranquility, who by your peaceful death most clearly revealed that you had been received by the ministers of peace.141516 And no wonder. For you did not shudder at that hour — you longed for it. The day before you were to depart from us, you told the prior of our monastery, who was visiting you, that you wished for no further reprieve from life.1718 What, then, did you gain, O bitter death?✦19 What did you gain? You certainly assailed his tabernacle, in which he was sojourning, but you broke the bond by which he was held.✦2021

The Soul Flies, the Body Rests

Aelred consoles himself with the hope of resurrection: the soul flies freely to Christ's embrace while the flesh, dissolved into ashes, will rise again in incorruption and glory.

You have overwhelmed the dwelling it was still enjoying, but you have carried off the burden it was weighed down by. We know, the Apostle says, that if our earthly house of this dwelling is dissolved, we have a building, a house not made by hand, eternal in the heavens (2 Cor.✦22 5). Therefore now that soul, friend to the virtues, longing for rest, devoted to wisdom, victorious over nature, stripped of this covering of flesh, flies, so to speak, with freer wings to that sublime and pure good, and is received into the long-desired embrace of Christ.23 But the flesh, you say, committed to earth, dissolves into ashes. Clearly so. But what are you exulting about? It is dead, so that it may be made alive; it is dissolved, so that it may be restored the better.

Where Is Your Sting, O Death?

Quoting 1 Corinthians 15, Aelred proclaims the resurrection of the body in glory and taunts death, acknowledging that while death inflicted grievous wounds on him, it was against Aelred—not Simon—that death spent its poison.

It was sown in corruption, but it will rise in incorruption.✦ It was sown in ignobility, but it will rise in glory.✦ In short, what was sown was a natural body; it will rise a spiritual one.✦ Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?✦ (1 Cor. xv.) Surely when you have seen that something was done in his behalf, you will be convinced from that very fact that it was to his profit. So it was against me that you vomited out all your poison; and in pursuing him, you inflicted grievous wounds on me.

The Numbness of Grief

Aelred reproaches himself for his inability to weep at Simon's funeral, describing a paralyzing numbness that overwhelmed his mind even as his heart was breaking.

I — I bore it, what bitterness, what harshness — the one from whom the guide of my journey was taken, the direction of my whole life. But what is it, O my soul? How could you look for so long at that beloved funeral without tears? Why is it that you let go of that body so dear to you without even kissing it? I was in agony, wretched, and I was crying out; and from my deepest heart I was drawing long, heaving sighs — and yet I wasn't weeping. So clearly did I see how much I had to grieve that I couldn't even believe I was grieving — even while I was in the worst pain. That's what I realized afterwards. So great a numbness had overwhelmed my mind that, even with his limbs already stripped for the sacred washing, I couldn't believe he had passed on.

The Eyes Begged to Weep

Aelred describes the moment his stupor gave way to feeling, addresses his eyes, and urges them to weep freely at Simon's funeral, finding comfort in the communal mourning around him.

I was amazed — for the one I had bound to myself with the tightest bonds of the sweetest love had suddenly slipped from my hands. I was amazed that that soul, which was one with mine, could be stripped from the embraces of my body without my consent. But now that amazement gave way to emotion, gave way to grief, gave way to compassion. Now what are you doing, my eyes? Don't hold back, I beg you — don't hide it. At this funeral, my beloved, offer whatever you have, whatever you can. Why should I be ashamed? Am I the only one weeping? Look — how many tears on every side, how many groans, how many sighs!

Christ's Tears as Our Excuse

Aelred appeals to Christ's own tears at Lazarus's tomb as justification for human grief, marveling at the sweetness of those tears and their power to console.

Are these tears to be blamed? But your tears, Lord Jesus, excuse us — the tears you shed at the death of a friend (John 11), testing indeed our affection, but intimating your love. You put on, Lord, the feeling of our weakness, but only when you chose to: so much so that you could not even weep. O how sweet your tears are! How delightful! O how richly my ointments are perfumed!✦ How much they console!

How He Was Loved

Aelred defends his tears against those who judge them as too fleshly, appealing to Christ's own testimony of love at Lazarus's tomb and to God alone, who sees the heart and knows that nothing hindered Simon's passage into divine embrace.

"See," they say, "how much he loved him" (ibid.).✦ . And see how my Simon was loved by all, embraced by all, cherished by all. But perhaps some brave souls now judge my tears, thinking my love far too fleshly. Let them interpret those tears however they wish; but you, Lord — you see them, you look upon them. Others see what happens on the outside; what I suffer within, they don't notice. There your eyes are, Lord. Surely in my eyes this servant of yours had nothing — nothing that could stand as a hindrance to him — from passing into your embrace.

The Sacrifice of Tears Offered to God

Aelred offers his tears and prayers to God as a sacrifice for Simon, begging mercy for any stains on his friend's soul and willing to bear the punishment himself rather than see Simon deprived of God's consolation.

But no one among mortals knows what is at work in a person except the spirit of the person that is within them. But your eye, Lord, penetrates as far as the division of soul and spirit, of joints as well as marrow, and discerns the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And as a certain faithful servant says: Woe even to the praiseworthy life of mortals if it be examined apart from piety.24 See, Lord, where my fear comes from; see where my tears come from. Look on them, O most loving, most gentle, most merciful one. Receive them, O my only hope, my one and only refuge, the goal of my intention, my God, my mercy. Receive them, Lord, as the sacrifice I offer you for my most beloved friend; and if any stains have clung to him, either forgive them or charge them to me. Let me be struck, let me be scourged, let me pay it all — only, I beg you, do not hide your blessed face from him, do not withdraw your sweetness from him, do not withhold your merciful consolation from him.

Mercy, Mercy, Mercy: Simon's Last Word

Aelred recounts Simon's final night, when he cried out 'Mercy, mercy, mercy' with ineffable joy, his sins swallowed up in the immense sea of divine compassion, his soul washed clean and leaning wholly on God's mercy as it longed to be stripped of the flesh.

Let him now experience, my Lord, the sweetness of your mercy — which he desired so ardently, in which he placed such confident trust, which he commended with such deep affection, and which tasted so delightful to him on that night when, as the others withdrew to rest and one brother was left behind to keep watch beside him, he broke forth joyfully into this cry: Mercy, mercy, mercy. He was trying, as they say, to sing through that verse from the beginning: I will sing of mercy and judgment to you, O Lord (Ps.✦ c). But as I think, drawn back by the sweetness of that first word and lingering more familiarly over its repetition, at last he turned to the one sitting beside his bed and kept repeating the same words again and again. And seeing that the other was overcome as if by a kind of stunned amazement — as though indignant at such great insensibility, since he was clearly not being flooded with the same sweetness nor savoring the same taste — he began to reach out with his hand as if wanting to rouse the one who had fallen asleep, and with a clearer, more urgent voice he repeats again: Mercy, mercy. What is it that I am beholding, my Lord? It seems to me — I'm certain — that I can almost see with my eyes that soul, dissolved in a certain ineffable joy at the drinking in of this verse, as it perceived its own sins swallowed up in this immense sea of divine compassion, leaving nothing that could weigh it down, nothing that could cloud its conscience even slightly.✦ It is a beautiful thing to behold that soul, washed clean at the fountain of divine mercy, the weight of sins laid down, now by its very natural impulse striving toward higher things with the lightest of habits, eager now to be stripped of the garments of the flesh — and meditating only on the mercy of God, on which it leans with its whole self.

Go Into Your Rest: A Funeral Prayer

Aelred sends Simon forth with a psalm-based prayer, accompanies him with tears, prayers, and the Eucharistic sacrifice, asks Abraham to receive him as another Lazarus, and concludes with his own petition for a place of rest in God's bosom someday.

Come now, turn back, O soul, into your rest, because the Lord has been good to you. Go over to the place of the wonderful tabernacle, all the way to the house of God, with the voice of exultation and praise — the sound of one feasting.✦25 I will accompany you with my tears, I will accompany you with whatever prayers are mine, I will accompany you with my affection, I will accompany you with the singular sacrifice of our Mediator himself.26 And you, father Abraham, stretch out again and again to receive this poor one of Jesus, another Lazarus (Luke 16).✦27 Open your hands, spread wide your bosom, unfold your embrace, and mercifully receive, cherish, and comfort this one returning from the miseries of this life. To me also, wretched as I am, whatever kind of devoted friend he had — grant a place of rest in your very bosom, together with him, someday.28 Amen.

Read the original Latin

Consideranda quapropter illa tria videntur, quae in mundo esse sanctus describit apostolus: Concupiscentia carnis, concupiscentia oculorum, et superbia vitae (1 Joan. ii), ne forte, quidquid minus jucundum sub Dominico jugo perferimus, ex harum passionum virulenta radice procedat. Sed ulterius progredi dolor prohibet, et ad flendi magis negotium recens mors Simonis mei violenter impellit. Hinc forte timor ille nocturnus, mentem exagitans meam. Hinc terror ille somniorum, necessariam mihi quietem eripiens; quia videlicet dilectissimus meus subito rapiendus erat e terris. Nec mirandum, si mea mens quadam sui perturbatione ejus praesagiebatur excessum, cujus vita tam delectabiliter fruebatur. Ecce jam timor, quem timebam, evenit mihi; et quod verebar, accidit. Quid dissimulem?

Cur sileo? fortasse idcirco manet super me ista tribulatio. Procedat ad oculos, procedat ad linguam, quod corde tegitur; si forte lacrymarum guttulis, stillulisque verborum, conceptam intimis praecordiis moestitiam, cor dolentis exsudet. Miseremini mei, miseremini mei, si qui estis amici mei, quia manus Domini tetigit me (Job xix). Miramini lacrymantem, imo magis miramini viventem. Quis enim non miretur Aelredum sine Simone vivere, nisi is qui nescit quam dulce fuit simul vivere, quam dulce foret simul in patriam redire? Patienter ergo ferte lacrymas meas, gemitum meum, rugitum pectoris mei. Et tu, dilecte mi, quanquam introductus in gaudium Domini tui, ad mensam illius summi patrisfamilias delectabiliter epuleris, illoque novo genimine vitis in regno patris, cum tuo Jesu feliciter debrieris; patere tamen, ut libem tibi lacrymas meas, resolvam tibi affectum meum, refundam tibi, si fieri potest, totum animum meum.

Noli has lacrymas prohibere, quas dulcis memoria tui, mi charissime frater, educit. Non sit tibi onerosus hic gemitus, quem non excitat desperatio, sed affectus; nec cohibeas has lacrymas, quas pietas elicit, non fidei defectus. Et certe si meministi quo veneris, quid evaseris, ubi illum tuum familiarem reliqueris: cernes profecto quam justus sit dolor meus, quam flenda plaga mea. Dimitte me ergo, ut plangam paululum dolorem meum. Meum: neque enim tua mors flenda est, quam tam laudabilis, tam amabilis, tam omnibus grata vita praecessit, quam commendat illa stupenda conversio tua, illa praedicanda conversatio tua, illa beata perseverantia tua. Vere stupenda conversio tua! Quis enim non obstupescat, quis non miretur puerum tenerum et delicatum, clarum genere, forma conspicuum, talem arripuisse viam, et sic arripuisse? Recessisti, mi dulcis frater, scienter nescius, et sapienter indoctus; qui instar primi illius patriarchae egressus de terra tua, et de cognatione tua, et de domo patris tui (Gen.

xii), ibas qua ignorabas, veniebas quo nesciebas. Sed sciebat ille, qui te ducebat, qui tenerum adhuc cor tuum flamma suae dilectionis succenderat, et tu in odorem unguentorum illius currebas. Praecessit te ille speciosus forma prae filiis hominum, ille unctus oleo laetitiae prae consortibus suis (Psal. xliv), unctus spiritu sapientiae et intellectus, spiritu consilii et fortitudinis, spiritu scientiae et pietatis (Isai. xi); et tu in odorem unguentorum istorum currebas (Cant. 1). Praecessit te humilis ille spiritualis per ardua et montuosa itinera spargens sua aromatibus myrrhae et thuris, et universi pulveris pigmentarii; et tu in odorem unguentorum istorum currebas. Praecessit puerum suum puer Jesus, ostendens ei praesepium paupertatis suae, reclinatorium humilitatis suae, cubiculum charitatis suae, refertum floribus gratiae suae, pinguescens melle dulcedinis suae, respersum balsamo consolationis suae, et tu in odorem unguentorum istorum currebas.

Nescio quid magnum, quid ineffabile jam tunc mens illa praegustaverat, quae corpusculo fame deficienti, quasi jumento lassescenti, feni pabulum credidit ministrandum. Fugiebat pius puer a facie patris sui, sed magis ad faciem patris sui. Voluit quidem oblivisci populum suum, et domum patris sui, ut concupisceret Rex, Regis filius, decorem suum, et essent duo in spiritu uno, quatenus ejus fieret pater per gratiam, qui illius est per naturam. O mira devotio; o mira sui ipsius oblivio! Parum fuit aemulatori venerabilis patriarchae Joseph, relicto mulieri Aegyptiae palliolo quo tenebatur astrictus (Gen. xxxix), nudum e manibus amplectentis elabi, sed insuper evangelicae perfectionis strenuus exsecutor, de crastino non cogitabat. Denique iter laboriosum satis sine viatico arripiens, deficientibus jam jamque prae inedia membris, « audivi, inquit, servos Christi herba pasci. Quare non et nos?

» Divertensque paululum ab itinere, coepit carpere. « O, inquit, quam dulce! O bone puer, quid tibi sapiebat? Quid rogo, herba illa, an fides; fenum, an charitas? Sapiebat plane, sed Jesus in corde; et ideo fenum in ore. Unde, quaeso, unde ista puero? Tua sunt ista, Domine Jesu, qui das et accipis, praestas, et exigis. Quis enim tibi dat aliquid non tuum?

Sed et si quis dare voluerit, quod a te non accepit, non dignaris accipere. » Accepit igitur, Domine Jesu, puer iste; accepit a te, et reddidit; accepit, et obtulit. Accepit et obtulit hanc mentis devotionem, hunc fidei fervorem, hunc dilectionis ardorem.

Tua ergo omnia, Domine, qui primordia conversionis ejus his miraculis dedicasti, qui piae conversationis ejus gratum postmodum sacrificium suscepisti, qui nunc holocaustum illud acceptissimum in sublime illud templum tuum misericorditer transtulisti. Ibi in sinu Abrahae requiescit Simon meus, dulcissimus amicus meus, tuus autem pauper, Domine Jesu: ibi requiescit, translatus de morte ad vitam, de labore ad requiem, de miseria ad felicitatem. Ecce qui dolere coeperam, inveni unde gaudeam. Inveni plane, sed in te, mi dilecte frater, non in me. Nolite, ait, flere super me; sed super vos ipsas flete (Luc. xxiii). Tibi, mi dilecte frater, tibi congaudeo; sed mihi condoleo. Tibi gaudendum est, ego flendus, ego dolendus, qui possum sine Simone vivere.

Mirum tamen, si vivere dicendus sum, cui ablata est tanta portio vitae meae; tam dulce solatium peregrinationis meae; tam unicum levamen miseriae meae. Quasi avulsa sunt viscera mea, quasi dilaniata infelix anima mea. Et vivere dicor? O miserum, o dolendum vivere! sine Simone vivere. Flevit patriarcha Jacob filium suum (Gen. xxxvii): flevit Joseph patrem suum (Gen. 1): flevit sanctus David Jonathan charissimum suum (II Reg.

1). Omnia haec mihi unus Simon fuit. Filius aetate, pater sanctitate, amicus charitate. Plora ergo, miser, charissimum patrem tuum, plora amantissimum filium tuum, plora dulcissimum amicum tuum. Rumpantur cataractae miseri capitis, deducant oculi lacrymas per diem et noctem. Plora inquam, non quia ille assumptus, sed quia tu relictus. Pater mi, frater mi, fili mi, quis mihi det, ut ego moriar tecum? Nollem enim pro te.

Hoc enim non esset tibi, sed potius mihi consuluisse. Dicebat quidem hoc de filio parricida sanctus David: Absalon fili mi, fili mi Absalon, quis mihi det, ut ego moriar pro te? (II Reg. xviii.) Nunquid hoc dixit de Jonatha amico suo? Nunquid hoc Joseph de patre suo? De parricida dici debuit; de peccatore hoc dici debuit, quia mors peccatorum pessima. Pium erat, velle mori pro impio, ut esset qui poeniteret, esset qui fleret, esset cui misereretur Deus, ne in aeternum periret.

At illi translati ad requiem non erant ulterius in hanc miseriam revocandi; non erant tot timoribus, tot doloribus iterum subjiciendi.

Denique Rachel plorans filios suos noluit consolari (Jer. xxxi). Quid plorabat? Affectus. Affectus autem consolaretur, si filius a mortuis revocaretur, si ejus aspectibus mater iterum frueretur. Hoc noluit Rachel. Quare? Quia si ille a mortuis revocaretur, de beatitudine in miseriam devolveretur.

Noluit autem ut filius revocaretur: sed ut illa ad filium in requiem assumeretur. Affectus filios requirebat, ne revocarentur, affectui ratio obsistebat; matris vero assumptionem divina providentia differebat: Ideo Rachel plorans filios suos noluit consolari. Similis causa mihi. Doleo dilectissimum meum, unicordem meum mihi ereptum, gaudeo eum in aeterna tabernacula assumptum. Quaerit affectus dulcem ejus praesentiam, qua delectabiliter pascebatur: sed non acquiescit ratio, ut dilecta mihi anima carne soluta iterum carnis miseriis addicatur. Optat anima mea simul cum illa sua portione frui amplexibus Christi, sed obsistit infirmitas mea, obsistit iniquitas mea, obsistit etiam divina providentia. Certe qui paratus erat, intravit cum sponso ad nuptias; mihi misero adhuc clausa est janua (Matth. xxv): Utinam, Domine Jesu, utinam quandoque aperiatur!

Spero autem in tua misericordia, Domine, quod aliquando aperiatur. Praemisi primitias meas; praemisi thesaurum meum; praemisi non modicam mei portionem. Sequatur ad te quod mei restat. Ubi est thesaurus meus, ibi sit et cor meum. Sequar hic, Domine, itinera ejus, ut in te fruar consortio ejus. Et poteram quidem, Domine, licet lento pede, cum oculis hic objiceretur pia conversatio ejus; cum superbiam meam retunderet conspecta humilitas ejus, cum inquietudinem meam reprimeret considerata tranquillitas ejus, cum levitas mea constringeretur freno mirae gravitatis ejus. Memini me saepe, cum oculis huc illuc discurrerem, ad unum ejus aspectum tanto pudore perfusum, ut subito intra memetipsum receptus, manu gravitatis omnem illam compescerem levitatem, ac me ad me colligens inciperem mecum aliquid utile actitare. Simul quidem loqui ordinis nostri prohibebat auctoritas, sed loquebatur mihi aspectus ejus, loquebatur mihi incessus ejus, loquebatur mihi ipsum silentium ejus.

Aspectus pudicus, maturus incessus, gravitas in sermone, silentium sine amaritudine.

Denique hoc ultimo anno vitae suae, quasi futurae vocationis suae non inscius, quanta tranquillitate, quanta pace, quanta circumspectione vitam exigebat! Videbatur quasi omnium exteriorum, etiam mei oblitus, ac infra quasdam suae mentis inclusus angustias virum illum expressius depinxisse, quem sanctus Jeremias propheta describens: Bonum est, inquit, viro, cum portaverit jugum ab adolescentia; sedebit solus, et tacebit, quia levabit se super se (Thren. iii). Suscepit quidem jugum disciplinae tuae, Domine Jesu, florescente aetate, eligens arctam illam viam quae ducit ad vitam, in sudore vultus sui vesci pane suo, et alieno judicio suam subdere voluntatem. Portavit etiam grave jugum infirmitatis ab ipsa adolescentia, qua eum usque ad extrema ejus per octennium, ut reor, sine ulla interpolatione paterno flagellasti affectu. Et ideo exterius nihil pene inveniens quo oblectaretur, in interiorem suae mentis solitudinem sese recluserat, solus sedens et tacens, non tamen otio torpens. Scribebat enim vel legebat, vel meditationi Scripturarum, quippe cui erat vigil sensus, secretius intendebat. Vix eum priore saltem de necessariis loquebatur.

Incedebat tamquam surdus non audiens, et sicut mutus non aperiens os suum, factus sicut homo non audiens et non habens in ore suo redargutiones. Verum si quis eum accepta occasione quolibet conveniret affatu, tanta mox redolebat in ejus sermone suavitas, tanta in vultu sine omni dissolutione apparebat hilaritas, ut quam fuerit silentium ejus vacuum amaritudinis, plenum dulcedinis, et modus loquendi, et hilaritas proderet audiendi. Ecce quid perdidi: ecce quid amisi. Quo abisti, o exemplar vitae meae, compositio morum meorum? Quo abisti, quo recessisti? Quid faciam? Quo me vertam? Quem nunc jam sequendum proponam?

Quomodo avulsus es ab amplexibus meis, subtractus oculis meis? Amplexabar te, dilecte frater; non carne, sed corde. Osculabar te, non oris attactu, sed mentis affectu. Dilexi te, qui me ab ipso initio conversionis meae in amicitiam suscepisti, qui te mihi prae ceteris familiarem exhibuisti, qui in ipsis visceribus animae tuae me Hugoni associasti. Tanta enim tibi erat circa utrosque dilectio, tam similis affectio, tam una devotio, ut, sicut mihi videor ex verbis tuis collegisse, neutrum alteri tuus praeferret affectus, quamvis ejus sanctitatem mihi omnino praeferendam certa ratio judicaret. Cur ergo me absente transiisti? Cur quem solum pro duobus praesentem habuisti, discedens praesentem noluisti? An parcendum utrique, scilicet et tibi et mihi aestimasti, ne meos conspectus tuus exitus afflictaret, et laetum tuum exitum ac tranquillum dolor meus vel modice contristaret?

An forte, quod magis credo, tibi soli pietas divina prospexit, ut tranquillam ac pacificam illam animam in desideratam tibi patriam ab hujus vitae miseriis cum omni tranquillitate transferret, ac corporei habitaculi vinculum, te pene nesciente, tanta solveret facilitate, ut nec modicus mortis timor dilectam sibi animam molestaret?

Denique is qui lectulo accubabat tuo, nullum in te vicinae mortis deprehendit indicium: imo vultus hilarior, sermo facilior, spem revocandae salutis augebant. Porro cum caput tuum suaviter reclinans spiritum reddidisses, obdormisse te credidit, non obiisse. Tibi ergo, mi dilecte frater, tibi consultum est, qui cum tanta tranquillitate transiisti, qui pacifica tua morte, a pacis ministris te fuisse susceptum, manifestissime prodidisti. Nec mirum. Non enim horam illam horruisti, sed potius desiderasti, qui pridie quam a nobis discederes, visitanti te monasterii nostri praeposito, nullas te ulterius vitae inducias optare dixisti. Quid igitur profecisti, o amara mors? quid profecisti? Invasisti certe tabernaculum ejus, in quo peregrinabatur, sed rupisti vinculum quo tenebatur.

Obruisti domicilium quo interim fruebatur, sed tulisti sarcinam qua premebatur. Scimus, inquit Apostolus, quoniam si terrestris domus nostra hujus habitationis dissolvatur, quod aedificationem habemus domum non manufactam a Deo, aeternam in coelis (II Cor. v). Ergo jam illa anima amica virtutibus, quietis cupida, studiosa sapientiae, victrix naturae, exuto hujus carnis involucro, liberioribus, ut ita dixerim, pennis ad illud sublime et purum bonum evolat: ac diu cupitis Christi excipitur amplexibus. Sed caro, inquis, terrae mandata, in cineres solvitur. Ita plane. Sed quid exsultas? Mortua est, ut vivificetur; dissolvitur, ut melius reparetur.

Seminata est in corruptione; sed surget in incorruptione. Seminata est in ignobilitate, sed surget in gloria. Denique seminatum est corpus animale; surget spirituale. Ubi est, mors, victoria tua; ubi est, mors, stimulus tuus? (1 Cor. xv.) Certe ubi videris in eum aliquid fecisse, inde convinceris profuisse. In me ergo totum tuum virus evomuisti; et illum appetens dira mihi vulnera inflixisti.

Ego ego tuli, quod amaritudinis, quod acerbitatis, cui ablatus est dux itineris mei, magisterium conversationis meae. Sed quidnam est, o anima mea? quod dulce illud funus tandiu sine lacrymis aspexisti? Quid est quod dilectum tibi corpus illud sine osculis dimisisti? Dolebam miser et rugiebam; et ab intimis praecordiis trahebam longa suspiria; nec tamen flebam. Tantumque mihi dolendum esse pervidebam, ut nec dolere me crederem, etiam cum vehementer dolerem. Sic postea sensi. Tantus quippe stupor mentem invaserat meam, ut etiam nudatis jam ad lavacrum sacrum membris transisse non crederem.

Mirabar enim eum, quem arctis dulcissimi amoris vinculis mihi astrinxeram, subito elapsum manibus: mirabar animam illam, quae cum mea una erat, sine mea corporis exui posse complexibus. Sed jam cessit illi stupor affectui, cessit dolori, cessit compassioni. Nunc quid agitis, oculi? Nolite, quaeso, parcere: nolite dissimulare. Praebete in exsequiis, dilecti mei quidquid habetis, quidquid potestis. Quid erubesco? An solus ploro? Ecce quot undique lacrymae, quot gemitus, quot suspiria!

An hae lacrymae reprehendendae? Sed excusant nos tuae lacrymae, Domine Jesu, quas in morte amici fudisti (Joan. 11), exprimentes quidem nostram affectionem; sed tuam insinuantes charitatem. Induisti Domine, nostrae infirmitatis affectum, sed quando voluisti: adeo et non flere potuisti. O quam dulces lacrymae tuae! quam suaves! O quantum sapiunt unguenta mea! quantum consolantur!

Ecce, inquiunt, Quomodo amabat eum (ibid.) . Et ecce quomodo meus Simon amabatur ab omnibus, amplectebatur ab omnibus, ab omnibus fovebatur. Sed forte judicant nunc aliqui fortes lacrymas meas, nimis carnalem existimantes amorem meum. Interpretentur eas, ut volent; tu autem Domine vide eas, respice eas. Vident alii quid exterius agitur, quid interius patiar non attendunt. Ibi tui oculi, Domine. Certe in oculis meis nihil habuit hic servus tuus, quod vel impedimento ei sit ad tuos transire amplexus.

Sed nemo scit hominum quid agatur in homine, nisi spiritus hominis qui in ipso est. Tuus autem, Domine, oculus penetrat usque ad divisionem animae et spiritus, compagum quoque et medullarum, et est discretor cogitationum, et intentionum cordis. Et, ut ait quidam laudabilis servus: Vae etiam laudabili vitae hominum, si remota pietate discutiatur. Ecce, Domine, unde timor meus, ecce unde lacryma. Attende eas, o piissime, dulcissime, misericordissime. Suscipe eas, o unica spes mea, unum et solum refugium meum, finis intentionis meae, Deus meus, misericordia mea. Suscipe eas, Domine, sacrificium, quod tibi offero pro dilectissimo amico meo, et si quae in eum maculae resederunt, aut ignosce, aut mihi imputa. Ego, ego percutiar, ego flageller, ego totum pendam; tantum, quaeso, ne illi abscondas beatam faciem tuam, ne illi subtrahas dulcedinem tuam, ne illi differas piam consolationem tuam.

Experiatur, mi Domine, dulcedinem misericordiae tuae, quam tam vehementer optavit, de qua tanta securitate praesumpsit, quam tanto affectu commendavit, quae ei tam delectabiliter sapuit nocte illa, cui caeteris sese ad quietem recipientibus, uno ei fratre ad excubias relicto, in hanc vocem gratulabundus erumperet: Misericordiam, misericordiam, misericordiam. Conabatur, ut aiunt, versiculum illum ex integro psallere: Misericordiam et judicium cantabo tibi, Domine (Psal. c). Verum, ut reor, primi illius verbi dulcedine revocatus, in ejus repetitione familiarius immoratus, denique convertens se ad eum qui ejus lectulo assidebat, eumdem sermonem crebro repetiit. Cernens quoque illum quodam quasi stupore suffundi, velut indignatus tantam ejus insensibilitatem, quod videlicet simili non perfunderetur dulcedine, simili sapore frueretur, coepit manu quasi velle excitare sopitum, et expressiori, arctiorique voce ingeminat: Misericordiam, misericordiam. Quid est quod intueor, mi Domine? Videor mihi certe quasi oculis cernere mentem illam, ad hujus versiculi haustum quodam ineffabili gaudio resolutam, dum cerneret peccata sua, immenso hoc pelago divinae miserationis absorpta, nihil reliquisse quod premeret, nihil quod ejus conscientiam vel modice obfuscaret. Libet intueri animam illam, fonte divinae misericordiae dilutam, deposito pondere peccatorum, ipso naturali impulsu levissimis quibusdam moribus ad superiora conari, carnisque exuviis jam jamque exui gestientem, ipsam tantum Dei misericordiam, cui tota innititur, meditari.

Eia, convertere nunc, o anima, in requiem tuam, quia Dominus benefecit tibi; transi ad locum tabernaculi admirabilis, usque ad domum Dei, in voce exsultationis et confessionis, sonus epulantis. Ego te prosequar lacrymis meis, prosequar te qualibuscunque precibus meis, prosequar te affectu meo, prosequar ipso singulari Mediatoris nostri sacrificio. Et tu pater Abraham, etiam atque etiam extende, ad suscipiendum hunc pauperem Jesu, alium quemdam Lazarum (Luc. xvi), manus tuas, aperi gremium tuum, expande sinum, et a vitae hujus miseriis revertentem pie suscipe, fove, consolare. Mihi quoque misero, qualicunque dilectori suo, in ipso sinu tuo cum ipso aliquando locum quietis indulge. Amen.

Scripture echoes

  1. ↩1John.2.16 — For all that is in the world—the desire of the flesh and the desire of the eyes and the pride of life—is not from the Father, but is from the world.
  2. ↩Job.3.25 — For the thing I feared has come upon me, and what I dreaded has overtaken me.
  3. ↩Job.19.21 — Have mercy on me, have mercy on me, O you my friends, for the hand of God has struck me.
  4. ↩Matt.26.29;Mark.14.25 — But I say to you, I will not drink from this fruit of the vine from now until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom. Mark.14.25 — Truly I tell you, I will not drink again from the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.
  5. ↩Gen.12.1 — Now the LORD said to Abram, "Go from your land and from your kindred and from your father's house to the land that I will show you.
  6. ↩Song.1.3 — The fragrance of your oils is good; your name is poured oil; therefore young women love you.
  7. ↩Ps.44.3;Ps.46.2 — For it was not by their own sword that they took the land, nor did their own arm save them; but it was your right hand, your arm, and the light of your face, for you delighted in them. Ps.46.2 — God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
  8. ↩Isa.11.2 — And the Spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him—the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and might, the Spirit of knowledge and the fear of the LORD.
  9. ↩Song.1.3 — The fragrance of your oils is good; your name is poured oil; therefore young women love you.
  10. ↩Song.3.6 — Who is this coming up from the wilderness like columns of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all the fragrant powders of the merchant?
  11. ↩Luke.2.7;Song.1.3 — And she gave birth to her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. Song.1.3 — The fragrance of your oils is good; your name is poured oil; therefore young women love you.
  12. ↩Gen.39.12 — She seized him by his garment and said, \"Lie with me.\" But he left his garment in her hand, fled, and went outside.
  13. ↩Matt.6.34 — Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
  14. ↩Luke.16.22-Luke.16.23 — And it happened that the poor man died and was carried by the angels to Abraham's side. The rich man also died and was buried. Luke.16.23 — And in Hades, while he was in torment, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus at his side.
  15. ↩Luke.23.28 — But turning toward them Jesus said, "Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; but weep for yourselves and for your children."
  16. ↩Lam.3.27-Lam.3.28 — It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth. Lam.3.28 — Let him sit alone and keep silent, for he has laid it upon himself.
  17. ↩Ps.38.14 — But I am like one who does not hear, and like one who does not open his mouth.
  18. ↩Isa.56.10 — His watchmen are blind, all of them; they know nothing. All of them are mute dogs, unable to bark — dreaming, lying down, loving to slumber.
  19. ↩1Thess.4.13-1Thess.4.14;1Cor.15.6 — But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, concerning those who are asleep, so that you may not grieve as do the rest who have no hope. 1Thess.4.14 — For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, so also God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep through Jesus. 1Cor.15.6 — After that, he appeared to more than five hundred brothers at one time, most of whom remain until now, but some have fallen asleep.
  20. ↩1Cor.15.55 — Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?
  21. ↩2Cor.5.1;2Pet.1.13-2Pet.1.14 — For we know that if our earthly tent-house is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 2Pet.1.13 — I consider it right, as long as I am in this tent, to stir you up by way of reminder, 2Pet.1.14 — knowing that the putting off of my body is soon, as our Lord Jesus Christ made clear to me
  22. ↩2Cor.5.1 — For we know that if our earthly tent-house is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.
  23. ↩1Cor.15.42-1Cor.15.44 — So also is the resurrection of the dead. It is sown in decay; it is raised in imperishability. 1Cor.15.43 — It is sown in dishonor; it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness; it is raised in power. 1Cor.15.44 — It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual one.
  24. ↩1Cor.15.43 — It is sown in dishonor; it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness; it is raised in power.
  25. ↩1Cor.15.44 — It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual one.
  26. ↩1Cor.15.55 — Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?
  27. ↩Song.1.3 — The fragrance of your oils is good; your name is poured oil; therefore young women love you.
  28. ↩John.11.36 — So the Jews said, "See how he loved him!"
  29. ↩Ps.101.1 — Of David. A psalm. I will sing of steadfast love and justice; to you, O LORD, I will make melody.
  30. ↩Mic.7.19;Isa.43.25 — He will again have compassion on us; he will tread our iniquities underfoot. And you will cast all their sins into the depths of the sea. Isa.43.25 — I, I am the one who blots out your transgressions for my sake, and your sins I will not remember.
  31. ↩Ps.41.5;Ps.43.4 — I said, "Lord, be gracious to me; heal my soul, for I have sinned against you." Ps.43.4 — Then I will go to the altar of God, to God, my exceeding joy, and I will praise you with the harp, O God, my God.
  32. ↩Luke.16.22 — And it happened that the poor man died and was carried by the angels to Abraham's side. The rich man also died and was buried.

Notes

  1. 1 ↩assumptio here carries the sense of being taken up to God (assumption into glory), not merely 'taking up' in a general sense; rendered as assumption to preserve the theological weight.
  2. 2 ↩vocationis rendered 'calling' in the sense of divine summons, not career.
  3. 3 ↩Scripture citation incomplete in source; candidate allusion to Lamentations 3:27–28. Final resolution deferred to tx-08 Moses stage.
  4. 4 ↩alieno judicio rendered 'another's judgment' — i.e., submitting to another's authority or discernment, not merely external opinion.
  5. 5 ↩paterno flagellasti affectu: literally 'you scourged with a fatherly affection.' The phrase holds together divine tenderness and corrective suffering; rendered 'with a father's loving discipline' to preserve both poles.
  6. 6 ↩The phrase 'certa ratio judicaret' introduces a rational judgment about preferring the other's holiness; the speaker concedes reason favored the friend's sanctity but claims the affection refused to make that distinction.
  7. 7 ↩The speaker speculates that the friend may have chosen to die apart from him out of consideration — to spare both of them the pain of a final parting. The rhetorical question carries both tenderness and reproach.
  8. 8 ↩pietas divina rendered as 'divine mercy' rather than 'piety' to capture the sense of God's compassionate care for the dying friend; pietas here functions as an attribute of God, not a human virtue.
  9. 9 ↩patriam rendered as 'homeland' with the sense of the heavenly fatherland (heaven), not a literal earthly country.
  10. 10 ↩imo rendered 'on the contrary' rather than 'indeed' to capture the adversative force contrasting the expected sign of death with the cheerful appearance.
  11. 11 ↩revocandae salutis: 'of recovering your health' — salus here in its physical sense of health/recovery, not salvific salvation.
  12. 12 ↩spiritum reddidisses: lit. 'had given back the breath/spirit,' rendered 'breathed your last' to capture the euphemistic force naturally in English.
  13. 13 ↩obdormisse…non obiisse: the contrast between 'fallen asleep' and 'died' is preserved, reflecting the early Christian euphemism for death as sleep.
  14. 14 ↩tibi consultum est: lit. 'it was provided for you / consulted for your benefit,' rendered 'it was arranged for you' to convey divine providence in natural English.
  15. 15 ↩a pacis ministris te fuisse susceptum: 'that you had been received by the ministers of peace' — likely referring to angels or saints who escort the soul; kept literal to preserve the theological image.
  16. 16 ↩prodidisti: lit. 'produced, revealed,' rendered 'revealed' — the peaceful death itself is the evidence.
  17. 17 ↩horam illam horruisti: 'you shuddered at that hour' — horreo conveys dread/aversion, fitting the context of facing death.
  18. 18 ↩nullas te ulterius vitae inducias optare dixisti: 'you wished for no further reprieve from life' — induciae (a truce/respite) is rendered concretely as 'reprieve.'
  19. 19 ↩The vocative 'O bitter death' preserves the apostrophic solemnity of the original; the exclamatory tone is rhetorical, challenging death's apparent victory.
  20. 20 ↩tabernaculum: 'tabernacle' — kept as a biblical image for the body as a temporary dwelling (cf. 2 Cor 5:1, 2 Pet 1:13–14).
  21. 21 ↩vinculum: 'bond/chain' — the tie binding soul to body, broken by death.
  22. 22 ↩Scriptural quotation from 2 Cor 5:1; final verse citation to be resolved in later stage.
  23. 23 ↩anima rendered as 'soul' per lexeme policy.
  24. 24 ↩The identity of the 'certain faithful servant' (quidam laudabilis servus) is uncertain; the saying is not a direct Moses quotation and is left as an unattributed devotional citation.
  25. 25 ↩The final phrase 'sonus epulantis' ('the sound of one feasting') is syntactically detached — either an appositive exclamation or a genitive of description attached to the preceding clause. The translation preserves its exclamatory force.
  26. 26 ↩The fourfold repetition of 'prosequar' ('I will accompany/follow') is a rhetorical intensification — the speaker pledges to attend the departed friend's soul through every means available: tears, prayers, personal devotion, and the sacrifice of the Mass.
  27. 27 ↩Allusion to Luke 16:19–31, the parable of Lazarus and the rich man. The departed friend is cast as a new Lazarus, commended to Abraham's bosom.
  28. 28 ↩The construction 'cum ipso' ('together with him') is associative: the speaker asks to share the same place of rest in Abraham's bosom alongside the departed friend.

Speculum caritatis (The Mirror of Charity) companion

Reorder one love at a time, daily

Use the study map with the free Chosen Portion app's daily readings to work through Aelred at a sustainable pace.

Aelred wrote the Mirror as a rule for daily interior discipline in community, and Chosen Portion carries that discipline forward as a short ordered reading each day.

  • All 3 books and 102 chapters mapped into 4 weekly themes with page-level pointers
  • Aelred's choice-motion-fruit test, turned into a one-page self-examination worksheet
  • 16 discussion questions ready for personal journaling or a 4-session small group
Chosen Portion — Daily Prayer (free iOS app) →