A Twelfth Century Man for All Seasons
The Life and Thought of Bernard of CIairvaux
Bernard of Clairvaux is worthy of the title “a man for all seasons.” His life was dogged by controversy and he fought for some issues that few today would wish to defend. Yet despite this he has in every generation had his admirers. As Jean Leclercq put it, “today, as in his own time, he enchants more readers than he exasperates.”
In the 16th century he was a widely quoted figure, and both Catholics and Protestants were keen to claim his support. John Calvin saw him as the major witness to the truth in the Medieval Church between Gregory the Great (died 604) and the 16th century. Calvin was not alone in his admiration of Bernard. In the early years of the Reformation dozens of anthologies of writings of early Church fathers and medieval masters were published, by Catholics and Protestants alike. In these works the two most popular medieval authors, who appear in almost all of them, are Gregory the Great and Bernard of Clairvaux. The great monk of the 12th century, the theologian of love, the “honeytongued doctor,” has been admired by all manner of Christians now for almost 800 years.
Bernard was born in 1090 at the chateau of Fontaines, on the outskirts of Dijon in Burgundy (today, France). The chateau survives today and part of it has been converted into a chapel commemorating Bernard. His family belonged to the lesser nobility and Bernard would have received the upbringing proper to a young nobleman, training him for a life in the world. But this was not to be.
In 1112 [Some recent scholarship has redated Bernards entry to Citeaux to the year 1113] he entered the recently founded Abbey of Citeaux, the first abbey of the new Cistercian order. This was not one of the well-established and prestigious monasteries, but was a strict reforming monastery which had been founded in 1098 by one Robert of Molesme. By 1112 the abbot was an Englishman by the name of Stephen Harding, whose beautifully illustrated Bible is today in the municipal library at Dijon. Bernard did not arrive empty-handed but managed to bring with him a party of 30 recruits, including his two uncles and most of his brothers. In time, more of his family were to join the order.
Citeaux, Clairvaux, and Controversy
Three years later, Bernard was appointed abbot of a new monastery, the third offshoot from Citeaux. He set out with 12 monks to a remote valley where they founded the Monastery of Clairvaux. (The abbey at Clairvaux still survives, but was converted into a prison after the French Revolution. The cells once inhabited by monks are now inhabited by prisoners.)
Citeaux had been founded in opposition to what was felt to be the laxity of the Benedictine order, and Clairvaux was founded in the same spirit. The aim was to return to a strict observance of the Rule of Benedict, including poverty and hard work. There was to be a stricter form of asceticism than that being practiced by the Benedictines.
At Clairvaux Bernard carried his reforming ideas to extremes, and in his early years this had unfortunate consequences. His high standards proved to be too severe for the frail humanity of his monks. After a time they were unable to cope and Bernard had to slacken the reins. Furthermore, Bernard was stricter with himself than with others, with the result that his health was permanently damaged. In particular, he suffered from severe gastric problems and had ongoing problems with digestion. A place had to be provided for him to be sick during monastery services. Despite his poor health, however, Bernard achieved more in his lifetime than has been achieved by most other great men.
Citeaux was founded in protest to Benedictine compromise, and this brought controversy. Into this controversy Bernard entered wholeheartedly. One of his first works, written around 1124-1125, was his Apology, addressed to Abbot William of St. Thierry, concerning the dispute between the Cistercians and the monks of Cluny. (The great monastery at Cluny was the center of the Benedictine community in that day.)
The Cistercians were accusing the Cluniacs of infringing the Rule; the Cluniacs responded by accusing the Cistercians of unfair criticism. Bernard addressed the second charge first, admitting that there is the danger of spiritual pride. “There are people who go clad in tunics and have nothing to do with furs, who nevertheless are lacking in humility. Surely humility in furs is better than pride in tunics” (Apology 6:12). He then launches into a brilliant satirical attack on Cluniac luxury. In a famous passage he caricatures the lavish meals served at certain monasteries:
Meanwhile course after course is brought in. Only meat is lacking and to compensate for this two huge servings of fish are given. You might have thought that the first was sufficient, but even the recollection of it vanishes once you have set to on the second. The cooks prepare everything with such skill and cunning that the four or five dishes already consumed are no hindrance to what is to follow and the appetite is not checked by satiety…The selection of dishes is so exciting that the stomach does not realize that it is being over-taxed. (9:20)
This was not his last writing concerning the Benedictines and the Rule of Benedict. Some years later (1141-1144) he wrote another work, On Precept and Dispensation, concerning the nature of obedience to the Rule. This began as a response to some queries from two Benedictine monks and is, therefore, less polemical in tone. It concerns the status of the Rule of Benedict and the question of whether it may ever be broken.
In particular, what should the monk do if there arises a conflict between the Rule and the obedience which he has promised to his abbot? Bernard stresses that the authority of the abbot is derived from and dependent upon the Rule and also that the monk should obey his abbot. Bernard, despite his polemical attacks on the Benedictines, came to have an influence upon the order. Suger, abbot of the prestigious monastery of St. Denis in Paris, was touched by Bernard’s words about luxury and adopted a more austere lifestyle for both himself and his monks.






















