On Easter Sunday in 1112 the porter at a poor monastery in Burgundy had his hands full! A crowd of noblemen had arrived and were waiting outside the monastery door. Why had these noblemen come? Did they want to loot the monastery? Was there another complaint about a land dispute? Imagine the porter’s shock when he found out that they had all come to enter the struggling monastery! Who was responsible for thirty noblemen wanting to enter what was then called the “New Monastery”? The answer: a young nobleman we now know as St. Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153), a future abbot and Doctor of the Church. Many stores are told about this great figure of the twelfth century. One great story is that when he decided to enter monastic life, he wasn’t going to do it alone. He traveled back and forth in feudal Burgundy, cajoling his friends and relatives to heed God’s call and accompany him to the “New Monastery.” Some hagiographers have gone so far as to write that “mother hid their sons when Bernard came near, and wives clung to their husbands to prevent them from going to hear him” (First Life, chapter 6). Even when we allow for the fact that these stories are certainly exaggerated, the truth is that when Bernard arrived at the gate at the “New Monastery” at Citeaux that Easter with thirty companions, the Cistercian order was on its way to becoming the great success of twelfth century monasticism. By the time of Bernard’s death in 1153, there were no less than 343 Cistercian houses. That is truly phenomenal growth in just forty-one years. Within three years after his entrance at Citeaux, he was sent to be the abbot of Clairvaux, one of four daughter houses of Citeaux. For about ten years he quietly studied Scripture and the writings of the Fathers of the Church. From 1128 until his death, he was indispensable in helping to run the church. His personality is well conveyed through his extensive correspondence. He could certainly be blunt as he was in this letter to the newly consecrated bishop of Geneva: “The bishop’s throne for which you, my dear friend, were lately chosen, demands many virtues, none of which, I grieve to say, could be discerned in you, at any rate in any strength, before your consecration.” To a nun who was contemplating leaving her monastery Bernard gave this witty advice: “If you are one of the foolish virgins, the convent is necessary for you. If you are one of the wise virgins, you are necessary for the convent.” The light of history has not shone well on some of the causes with which Bernard was involved. One would be his harsh dispute with Peter Abelard. Another would be his preaching on behalf of the Second Crusade—which turned out to be a disaster. He is best remembered for his extensive writings, notably his mystical commentaries on the Song of Songs and his treatises on the Blessed Virgin Mary. Pope Benedict XVI devoted his General Audience on October 21, 2009, to St. Bernard of Clairvaux. I would like to end this column with his closing remarks given on that occasion: “I would like to conclude these reflections on St. Bernard with the invocation to Mary that we read in one of his beautiful homilies: ‘In danger, in distress, in uncertainty,’ he says, ‘think of Mary, call upon Mary. She never leaves your lips, she never departs from your heart; and so that you may obtain the help of her prayers, never forget the example of her life. If you follow her, you cannot falter; if you pray to her, you cannot despair; if you think of her, you cannot err. If she sustains you, you will not stumble; if she protects you, you have nothing to fear; if she guides you, you will never flag; If she is favorable to you, you will attain your goal….’ (Hom. II super Missus est, 17: PL 183, 70-71).” Until next week, Fr. John