Bertarius of Monte Cassino (Bertarius Cassinensis)
(Life of Saint Scholastica)
The Life of Saint Scholastica the Virgin, Sister of Saint Benedict
1. Since we celebrate the feast day of blessed Scholastica, dearest brothers, it pleases us to introduce something from the life of the most blessed Benedict into this little work concerning the merits of her life, so that the greatness of her excellent holiness may not be hidden in silence. But first let us send prayers to almighty God, who made all things in wisdom, that he himself may deign to grant what he deigned to say: "Let him who thirsts come and drink, and from his belly shall flow rivers of living water" (John 7:37), so that we may worthily pursue what we have begun, that it may pertain to the honor of so great a feast, and provide an increase to your charity.
2. For his sister Scholastica (from Gregory the Great, Dialogues, Book II, ch. 33), dedicated to the almighty Lord from the very time of her infancy, was accustomed to come to him once a year. First let us inquire into the virtue of so great a name, that the discourse may proceed with its proper adornment. For "Scholastica" is derived from "Schola" (school), which is the nurse of wisdom: from it the standard of all virtues grows, and the whole virtue of the soul becomes eager to learn good and evil, so that it may run the path of salvation on a straight course, how to despise the perishable things of the world, lest going astray it should reckon good for evil, evil for good, darkness for light, and light for darkness, bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter, and so that it may discern what is the virtue of the spirit and what of the flesh, lest performing all things indiscriminately, it should hope to choose good where the whole standard of malice resides — as it is said: "He who has not been a disciple of truth will be a master of error."
3. But let us see who could be the brother of so great a sister — Benedict in all things, not only in name but in deed, not only on earth but also in heaven. She was made Scholastica not in the school of philosophers but of Christ, fleeing the mockeries of the world from infancy, she prepared for herself a heavenly spouse. He indeed, seeing from the time of his boyhood the broken pursuits of vices and worldly letters at Rome, with a mature heart withdrew the foot which he had set upon entering the world. How happy is the land of Nursia, which sends forth such children! For the Canopic kingdoms send golden tyrants: you send offspring worthy of Christ above the heavens. O happy womb of so great a mother, which brought forth to the world such offspring from such a seed — that is, of blessing and wisdom. Truly this is that fertile soil which, having received the seed, produced fruit a hundredfold and sixtyfold.
4. But why, holy sister, did you come only once a year? Were you perhaps afraid because of the length of the journey for your tender feet? Or were you preparing a gift to bring? Or perhaps the good brother enriched you only once a year with the dew of the heavenly word, so that the moistened meadows of your minds would suffice for the increase of salvation? Or did you have in mind that saying of Solomon: "Restrain your foot from the house of your neighbor, lest being sated he come to hate you" (Proverbs 25:6)? And that other: "Have you found honey, my son? Eat what is sufficient for you, lest being sated you vomit it up" (Proverbs 25:16)? So, so let all sisters act: let them not frequent the thresholds of brothers with dense footsteps, let them not seek carnal kisses, let them not resound with foolish tales, let them not bring only gifts which the loom paints or the skilled hand adorns — not perfume bottles, not cakes of various flavors — but with Scholastica seek the sacred school of brother Benedict, so that you may return to your own places sated more with heavenly food than with earthly gifts. It continues:
5. The man of God would come down to her not far outside the gate, on the property of the monastery. How holy, how chaste, how discreet was this meeting! So that the weaker sex would not be wearied, the brother came out to meet her, lest perhaps the labor of the journey might break the devotion of her mind. Did he perhaps judge it unlawful that the threshold of so great a monastery should be trodden by a woman's foot? Or perhaps he was avoiding the barking of worldly people, who with canine manner devastate the good customs of monks, and believe of them what they do not refuse to do by their own wicked acts — and if it would be unlawful to suspect such a thing of so great a Father, they would curl their laughter with swollen throats about his more tender disciples? Therefore the nourishing Father came down not on secular property, but on the monastery's own possessions. It continues:
6. On a certain day she came according to custom, and her venerable brother came down to her with his disciples. For she came according to custom, because she approached from the good habit of the mind and with unfeigned faith. How holy the meeting, how holy the arrival, how pious the course — she who ran more by love of mind to Christ than by devotion of feet to her brother, or rather, also to Christ her brother! For he himself says: "If anyone does the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is my brother, sister, and mother" (Matthew 12:50). But with what devotion she ran, the Psalmist says: "As the deer longs for the springs of water, so my soul longs for you, O God" (Psalm 41:2). But why did the Psalmist metaphorically introduce the mention of the deer, that the soul should so run to God as the deer to the fountain, not devoid of mysteries — do they remain. Does not the deer alone, and not the dove, the turtledove and the sparrow, seek the fountain? But in different ways do the deer and the dove return to the river of the fountain. The one by the running of feet, the other by aerial flight descends; the one, frequently pursued by the skill of hunters, runs weary to the water, while the other approaches unwearied in her accustomed way. And if we wish to consider this mystically, the invisible soul takes on the form of the visible animal: by one course of weariness, the one goes to the earthly fountain, the other to the heavenly fountain. The one is wearied by the voices of hounds, the other is pursued by evil spirits — for the sake of which one must run to that fountain which is the living fountain, the well of the house of Jacob, from which the vein of springing water bubbles up into eternal life. Certainly so great a sister came to her brother with such faith. For in one way the sick, in another the healthy person goes to the physician: the one to visit the healthy as healthy, the other so that the healthy one may tend the ailing. For to the fountain also, the thirsty one hastens in one way, and the one bloated from wine in another. The one to refresh his mind by drinking, the other to proceed on a straight path without thirst. But this sister, perceiving both graces in so great a brother, came unwearied with wise step: first, to visit the healthy one as healthy; next, so that he might cure her who was sick not in body but in mind with the instruction of salvation — for not even the stars themselves are clean in the sight of God, and according to the Apostle, not even an infant of one day. It continues:
7. They spent the whole day in the praises of God and sacred conversation, and when the darkness of night was already pressing in, they took food together. Blessed was such a meeting of kindred, having before their eyes the Lord's precept: "Seek first the kingdom of God and his justice, and all these things shall be added unto you" (Matthew 6:33). Blessed were such dishes, where the bread of angels is set down before that of men, and where the mind is refreshed before the belly. For here is stored food that can please the heavenly table; but there remains food which the indigestion of the body sends away. And blessed is the discourse that is prolonged through the whole space of the day in divine praise, and which from the first rising of light until sunset is reciprocated in turns with most sacred teachings. It continues:
8. And while they were still sitting at the table and the hour was drawing itself out later amid the sacred conversations, that same consecrated woman, his sister, was entreating him, saying: "I beg you, do not leave me this night, that we may speak of the joys of heavenly life until morning." They sit at the table, they take food, with one tooth of charity they chew the bread and the sacred conversations, so that there might be one mouth with which they might break both earthly and heavenly bread. For the belly was full of food, but the mind was still fasting for the word of salvation: therefore, as though famished, she asked that the most delightful heavenly one might satisfy the mind with divine nourishment until daylight, so that he who had been a teacher in the light of day might also become a master amid the darkness. It continues:
9. He replied to her: "What is it you are saying, sister? I can by no means remain outside my cell." Behold, the brother questions the sister, the master the disciple, the saint the saint, as if not knowing what the sister had said. But this inquiry is more that of one who is indignant than of one who is asking, since the Father had heard well what the sister had requested. As if he were saying: "It is not right, what you ask, that I should remain outside my cell contrary to custom, which I can by no means fulfill." O lover of holiness, why do you deny to your own sister what you even provide to strangers? But religion does this, not a cause of grief. You know the Lord's command: "He who loves father or mother or brother or sister more than me is not worthy of me" (Matthew 10:37). And so you return to your accustomed place of prayer, where you are more accustomed to cling to God than to your sister. But with a presumptuous voice we say: Is not God here where a good sister seeks the mysteries of God, since he himself says: "Where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in their midst"? (Matthew 18:20.) Behold, she does not ask to see you for a long time in the manner of relatives, but requests the space of a single night in which you might offer sacred conversations.
How harshly you attend, holy brother, to the prayers of your sister, on account of your sacred religious life. She rightly seeks to receive from you, and you likewise seek to return: she in faith, you in faith; she in love of God, you equally as she; she that you might spend the time of night in preaching with your sister, you that you might offer the customary praises to the Lord with your brothers. But which of the two acted better, the following sentence demonstrates. And so great was the serenity of the sky that no cloud appeared in the air. Truly, no cloud could exist where the true light was, which illumines every person coming into this world. It continues:
10. But when the consecrated woman had heard the words of her brother refusing, she placed her hands with interlocked fingers upon the table and bowed her head upon her hands, about to pray to the almighty Lord. Tell us, blessed virgin, in whose school were you taught, you who propose a position contrary to the master? Does he not say: "Every disciple will be perfect if he is like his master" (Luke 6:40)? And in the Gospel he says: "Let not your left hand know what your right hand does" (Matthew 6:3) — and you intertwine both hands? And that saying: "Cast the net on the right side of the boat" (John 21:6) — and you rightly immerse on both sides? He places the sheep on the right, and you also on the left? The Psalmist sets things on the right, saying: "The Lord said to my Lord: Sit at my right hand" (Psalm 109:1); and also: "The right hand of the Lord has wrought power, the right hand of the Lord has exalted me" (Psalm 117:16); and in the Canticle: "Your right hand, O Lord, is glorified in power" (Exodus 15:6), etc. — and you, disregarding all this, not only clasp your hands but even interlock your fingers? The Lord says in the Gospel: "But when you pray, enter into your room, and having shut the door, pray to your Father" (Matthew 6:6) — and you, sitting at supper, pour forth prayers and tears before human eyes? But how praiseworthy are your deeds, O most holy of women! What do you do in your private chamber, when you perform such things under the open sky? For therefore your right and left are one to you, because you attend to the handiwork of him who has no left hand, as he says: "God saw all that he had made, and it was very good" (Genesis 1). And in the Song of Songs: "His left hand is under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me" (Song of Songs 2). And in the Psalm: "Your hands, O Lord, have made me and formed me" (Psalm 118). And that saying in the Canticle: "My hands dripped with myrrh" (Song of Songs 5:5).
By this authority, indeed, how beautifully your clasped hands stand together, upon which, reclining your head, you weeping poured forth a shower from heaven. But whose head, let the Apostle say: "The head of the woman is the man, the head of the man is God" (1 Corinthians 11:3). For whose man, if not his of whom the Prophet says: "The Man, the Rising, is his name" (Zechariah 6:12). Behold, he who for the salvation of all bowed his head on the cross and gave up his spirit, by his head now inclined your head upon your palms, so that the secret of his mystery which you sought in your mind might flow down to you from the stars. You who accomplished so great a miracle merely by interlocking your fingers — what would you have done had you stretched out your palms in prayer? And when she raised her head from the table, such was the power of lightning and thunder, and such an inundation of rain burst forth, that neither the venerable Benedict nor the brothers who were with him could move a foot beyond the threshold of the place where they sat. What new miracles for the world, what proclamations worthy of praise for all ages! Where there was no shadow of a cloud, the air thundered with cries upon all; and dense thunderclaps resounded where there was no stirring of wind. For one fountain of her eyes was watering both the table with tears and the sky was watering the fields with rain.
Now let holy charity stand firm, let the brother's feet stand immovable: what the sister asks, let the brother's love not deny. Give, willing or not, the nightlong sacred conversations, Father. Behold, she fulfills the Lord's precept: she asks that she may receive, she seeks that she may find, she knocks that it may be opened to her. What does she ask? Let her herself say: "That until morning we may speak something of the joys of heavenly life." For this is why you came down to meet her — to bring forth these gifts. Complete what you have begun. For the reward does not stand at the beginning, but at the end of good works. Therefore the Lord poured forth rain from on high, so that you would not deny the stream of teachings. Truly she does not ask for a perishable gift, but seeks the gain of the heavenly kingdom. It continues:
11. The consecrated woman, bowing her head upon her hands, had poured forth rivers of tears upon the table, through which she drew the serenity of the air into rain. Nor did that inundation follow much later after her prayer: but so great was the correspondence between the prayer and the inundation, that she raised her head from the table together with the thunder, so that it was one and the same moment — to raise her head and to bring down the rain. How good is the God of Israel to the upright of heart, how gracious to the devout soul that seeks him! Behold, he who is the searcher of minds and sees the hearts of all, who says through the Psalmist: "He shall call upon me and I will hear him; I am with him in tribulation" (Psalm 90:12) — behold, he did not delay, he did not require many prayers, but in the twinkling of an eye and at the point of the heart he granted the gift to the one who asked. For when she raised her head from her hands, there was one correspondence of prayer and inundation. Rejoice and be glad, most holy of men, for behold you hold what you wanted, behold you have what you always sought: behold you see remarkable miracles, proven by heaven and earth. Truly, if you had not refused what you desired, these signs would not have been born before human eyes — signs which the sacred reading forever proclaims to the whole world.
Behold, now the name of Scholastica shines with the praise of virtues; behold, the holy people rejoice together at her miracle; behold, she whom you cultivated with the heavenly hoe now bears the fruit of signs. It continues:
12. Then the man of God, amid the flashing thunderbolts and the inundation of immense rain, seeing that he could not return to the monastery, began to complain in sorrow, saying: "May almighty God forgive you, sister — what have you done?" Why do you ask, man of God, what your sister has done? Do you not see what she herself has done? Do you not see the drops of rain? Do you not hear the crashing roars of the sky? Do you not feel the miracles flashing, the signs streaming, the foundations of the house trembling — and you say, "What have you done"? Did she do this? Rather, it was your holy refusal that did it — for if you had not refused, the miracle would not have come to pass. Christ accomplished this, the lover of mercy. For when the Canaanite woman asked, he delayed hearing her prayers, so that he might make her faith more keen, so that to the puppy seeking crumbs, the bread of the children might be given. But she came then as a stranger from foreign lands, yet was no longer a stranger from the fellowship of Christ. This one, however, dedicated to Christ from her cradle, deserved to hear with the glorious Virgin Mary: "She has chosen the better part" (Luke 10:42).
And why, Father, do you say in sorrow: "May almighty God forgive you, sister, what have you done"? O man of God, to you the minds of men lie open, for you the air pours forth coins, for you dry barrels flow with oil, for you the depths of the deep lake bring iron back from the bottom, the very underworld returns a soul — and now, as if grieved and unknowing, you say, "What have you done"? O blessed Father, if it be permissible to say, how much more just it would have been to say: "May almighty God forgive me, who do not hear your good prayers" — rather than to say: "May almighty God forgive you, what have you done"? This is that saying of Solomon: "Reprove a wise man and he will love you" (Proverbs 9:8). It continues:
13. She replied to him: "Behold, I asked you, and you would not hear me; I asked my Lord, and he heard me." Let us understand the implication: "Indeed I asked you as a brother, but you would not hear me as your own sister. I hoped that you would have in your mind the tender feelings of a mother, the pain of birth, the milky breasts, the cradle of the nurse, the washings of the midwife, the swaddling bands with which infancy once nourished us. But you would not hear me, and you were hastening more to the brothers whom the charity of Christ alone makes your kin — brothers whom you do not even know from what boundary the world sends to your cradle. Therefore I asked my Lord, and he heard me. You were not considering that one father bestowed the bodies of both of us; you were not seeing that we shared one dwelling within the walls of the womb. Therefore I ran to that Father who gave us our soul, who bestowed earthly things and did not deny heavenly ones. Now therefore, if you can, go out, and having dismissed me, return to the monastery."
Therefore Benedict and Scholastica were twins, brought forth indeed in a single birth; for there would not be "one dwelling" for those who merely succeed one another in the same place after intervals. Trithemius, in Book I of his work On the Illustrious Men of the Order of Saint Benedict, chapter 1, speaking of their mother Abundantia, says: "She," he says, "endangered in childbirth, bore twins — a son, namely Benedict, and a daughter named Scholastica."
"For 'now' is of the present time: now, when almighty God has closed your paths; now, when he has denied you passage for going — now, if you can, leave me behind and return to the monastery. And why, Father, are you weary? Is not this a monastery where you are — you who are the head of all monasteries, and the teacher of all monks, since it is not the place that sanctifies the man, but the man who sanctifies the place? Stand now, most holy Father, against your will, that the sun of another day may grant you your steps. It continues:
But he, unable to go out beyond the roof, who had been unwilling to remain in the place of his own accord, remained against his will. How many holy men have you become like, O man of God — men who unwillingly performed the deeds of the good! For Jacob unwillingly fled his brother, and afterward returned with many. So Joseph unwillingly went to his seat of power, to become a teacher to the people of God. So Daniel went to the citadel of Babylon, to become the first among all the wise. So Saul was unwillingly made Paul, to become the preacher to the nations. Therefore let your charity not rest, holy man, in standing there unwillingly, so that you may bestow the teachings of Christ's salvation. It continues:
14. And so it came to pass that they passed the whole night in wakefulness, and satisfied each other through sacred conversations about the spiritual life in mutual exchange. Behold, now new spiritual joys arise, because he who formerly refused has now become a bestower of heavenly things; and they who were previously in discord from their harmony now satisfy each other in sacred conversations by mutual exchange. How great are your wonders, almighty God! For you willed all things to be proved, you made them, and there is none who can resist the power of your majesty. Therefore heaven, air, earth, sea, and all things that are in them praise you, because you ever renew your signs and wonders, that the whole world may know you to be its Redeemer. Now grant the pious Father Benedict his way of returning to his cell; stop the aerial stream, take away the drops of rain, give the sun of serenity, so that he who came joyfully may depart rejoicing; so that likewise his sister, bidding farewell to her brother, may return to her own place; so that both, rejoicing and exulting, may be carried to their own roofs by your gift. It continues:
For this reason I said that he had wished for something but was by no means able to accomplish it; because if we look at the venerable man's mind, there is no doubt that he wished the same serenity in which he had come down to continue. But against what he wished, he found a miracle from a woman's breast by the power of almighty God. Nor is it surprising that the woman, who had long desired to see her brother, prevailed more than he at that same time; for since, according to the voice of John, "God is love" (1 John 4:16), by a most just judgment she prevailed more who loved more.
This is not a matter to be discussed in a brief speech. For according to the grammarians, love is a middle species, since love can exist between the good and the bad, and between thieves and the pious — as that saying goes: "Perfect love casts out fear" (1 John 4:17). Certainly if that love is perfect which casts out fear among the good, that love is nonetheless believed to be imperfect which provides a concord of wickedness among the evil and the proud. So in the Passion of the Lord, when Pilate sent Jesus to Herod, and Jesus was sent back from Herod to Pilate, Herod and Pilate became friends on that very day — for previously they had been enemies to one another. But this is the perfect love which is God, by which the one here prevailed more than the other. Of this love the Apostle says: "The love of God has been poured forth in our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us" (Romans 5:5). It continues:
15. And when on the following day that same venerable woman had withdrawn to her own cell, the man of God returned to his monastery. And behold, when three days later, standing in his cell, he raised his eyes to the air and saw the soul of that same sister of his, having departed from her body, penetrating the secrets of heaven in the form of a dove. How happy are the eyes that can contemplate blessed souls, that by carnal sight can perceive spiritual things! These lights do not lie in the foundation of the brow, but shine within at the windows of the heart, of which he says: "Who are these that fly as clouds, and like doves to their windows?" (Isaiah 60:8). Behold now, Father Benedict, that dove already flies to the windows of your heart, so that the soul of your sister, passing through them, may carry it to that heavenly gate — so that she might become the guide of so great a soul, she who was once the bird that bore the restored peace back to the ark. How happy is the bird adorned with such mysteries, which was deemed worthy even to bear the Holy Spirit upon the Lord Christ!
She presses on, constant in the service of the eternal King; she, with her accustomed wings silvered and her back gleaming with gold, bears the message to paradise. Of her it says in the Song of Songs: "Arise, my beloved, my bride, and come: my dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hollow of the wall" (Song of Songs 2:14). It continues:
16. He, rejoicing together at her so great glory, gave thanks to almighty God in hymns and praises, and announced her passing to the brothers. For the holy Father announced to the brothers what he had been deemed worthy to perceive by sacred sight as a mystery; and rejoicing together at such vows, he gave thanks to almighty God, because the one whom three days before he had bathed in the dew of the heavenly word, he now saw ascending to the ethereal kingdoms in the form of a dove. It continues:
17. He also immediately sent monks to bring her body to the monastery and to place it in the tomb which he himself had prepared for himself. When this was done, it came to pass that those whose mind had always been one in the Lord, their bodies also were not separated even in burial. Behold, brothers, the heavenly pearl once bought by the merchant is now fitted with heavenly ornaments; already feeding among the gleaming lilies, she follows the Lamb wherever he goes. Behold, in the paradise of the Lord she is placed by angels; behold, on earth she is laid by the hands of monks in the tomb of her brother, so that the gift which one mother bestowed, neither the gate of heaven nor the burial in earth should separate; and for those who always had one mind in Christ, there should be one casket for their bodies.
Behold, your losses are restored, O paradise! Behold the virgin formed by the hand of God, whom the pestilent enemy snatched from your place — she now returns to the heights of heaven, she now recognizes the palm of her creator; now because she was once conquered, she as conqueror treads upon the neck of the malignant enemy. Speak, speak, minister of hell; speak, soldier of Tartarus; speak, offspring of Orcus, race filled with the fraud of all poisons — what did the most holy handiwork of God ever do to you? What harm did a woman, well formed, ever do to you? And for what cause did you, the counselor, thrust yourself forward unbidden, so that she might eat what was not yours? Speak, pestilent thief! Because you could not seize a part of the kingdom of God, you therefore wished to seize by means of the serpent the creature of God. Indeed, such as is the master, such is the servant he sends. You are the slippery serpent, he is the twisted serpent; you are full of every pain, he of every venom; you give the counsels of death, he with his own instruments hissing, serves up the counsels of death. Could you not find in the paradise of God another animal that would agree with your desires, besides the serpent? Truly not. You are more cunning than the holy angels, he more cunning than all living things; you were formed good in heaven, but of your own will became evil; he was created good in paradise, but through you was made guilty. The virgin of God, the handiwork of God, the woman of God was created good; through you and the serpent, by tasting what was forbidden, she was made a sinner. You madman, what advantage did any of this bring you? You heaped up perpetual fires for yourself, he shall eat earth all his days; you are bound with fiery chains; he is crushed by the anger of all, struck by heels, beaten with blows. Woe, woe upon you in all things! Behold, the woman has been restored by the blood of Christ; behold, in exchange for the loss of the earthly paradise, she now holds the heights of heaven, from which you fell headlong. Your gall has been turned into the sweetness of honey; your malignant treachery into the restoration and salvation of all. The jaw of your throat has been pierced; you bite no one, you devour no one without God willing it. And if you should devour anyone, choked by the mercy of God, you will spit him out with blood, and God will drag him from your bowels.
18. Rejoice now, O virgin of God, exalted by such great triumphs! Exult, O blessed Father Benedict, most holy of fathers, sweetest of teachers! Because, having completed your holy works, you rejoice together over the kingdoms of heaven. Intercede for those entrusted to you, petition for us who are afflicted, pray for our offenses, beseech Christ not only for the monks entrusted to you, but also for your handmaids, that every age, every sex, every Order that submits its neck to your precepts may despise the perishable things of the world, desire eternal joys, seek the blessed kingdom, and receive prosperity of souls and bodies. May they be troubled by no diabolic fraud, afflicted by no attacks of the wicked, and destroyed by no calamities. Well done, O blessed Father! Be favorable to those who pray, lend your ears to the prayers of your servants, grant pardon to those who ask, give gifts to those who seek, spare the sinners — for you are the shepherd and we are the sheep. Hear the bleating of your flock, draw us after you, that we may come to you, that there we may find true pastures where there are true, everlasting joys. Return to God the talents accumulated from us, bring back with interest the entrusted gifts of your teachings, and join me, the unworthy presumptuous author of this work, to your sacred servants, so that with the whole flock entrusted to us we may attain the rewards of life, that it may be said to you by God: "Well done, good and faithful servant; because you were faithful over a few things, I will set you over many. Enter with all those entrusted to you into the joy of your Lord" — by the grant of him who deigned to promise worthy joys to his servants, who lives and reigns forever and ever. Amen.