St. Ambrose on Mary, the Model for Consecrated Virgins

Continuing in my discussion of St. Ambrose’s treatise on virginity, De Virginibus, we are now moving on to Book II of this three-part work!

For new readers, De Virginibus is St. Ambrose’s treatise on virginity, which he wrote addressed to his sister who was herself a consecrated virgin. St. Ambrose was Bishop of Milan during the fourth century A.D., a time when the “original” (i.e., pre-Vatican II) Order of Virgins was flourishing. By reading St. Ambrose, we not only get a brilliant Patristic commentary specific to the vocation of consecrated virginity lived “in the world,” but we also find some valuable insight as to the concrete lives of the ancient consecrated virgins.

Whereas in Book I St. Ambrose focused primarily on the theology of consecrated virginity, in the first chapter of Book II he indicates that this coming book will focus more on the formation of consecrated virgins. Though instead of giving us a step-by-step manual on formation (which actually, I sort of wish he had done!), St. Ambrose decides that the best way to treat the subject of formation of consecrated virgins is to present some of the most illustrious examples. And, quite appropriately, in Book II, chapter 2, he begins by discussing the life of Our Lady, the “virgin of virgins.”

You can read De Virginibus in its entirety in the NewAdvent.org “Fathers” section. For more of this blog’s commentary on De Virginibus, see my previous posts: “St. Ambrose on Consecrated Virginity”; “St. Ambrose Writes on Marriage and Virginity”; “Easter Bees”; and “St. Ambrose on Parents and Discernment.”

I have made some very slight grammatical changes in the interest of clarity. Emphases, in bold, and commentary, in red, are mine.

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The life of Mary is set before virgins as an example, and her many virtues are dwelt upon, her chastity, humility, hard life, love of retirement, and the like; then her kindness to others, her zeal in learning, and love of frequenting the temple. St. Ambrose then sets forth how she, adorned with all these virtues, will come to meet the numberless bands of virgins and lead them with great triumph to the bridal chamber of the Spouse.

6. Let, then, the life of Mary be as it were virginity itself, set forth in a likeness, from which, as from a mirror, the appearance of chastity and the form of virtue is reflected. From this you may take your pattern of life, showing, as an example, the clear rules of virtue: what you have to correct, to effect, and to hold fast.

7. The first thing which kindles ardor in learning is the greatness of the teacher. What is greater than the Mother of God? What more glorious than she whom Glory Itself chose? What more chaste than she who bore a body without contact with another body? For why should I speak of her other virtues? She was a virgin not only in body but also in mind, who stained the sincerity of its disposition by no guile, who was humble in heart, grave in speech, prudent in mind, sparing of words, studious in reading, (There is some debate over whether or not “the historical Mary” was literate, but it seems that this reference is one of the recurring praises for scholarship or study as a pursuit appropriate to consecrated virgins.) resting her hope not on uncertain riches, but on the prayer of the poor, intent on work, modest in discourse; wont to seek not man but God as the judge of her thoughts, to injure no one, to have goodwill towards all, to rise up before her elders, not to envy her equals, to avoid boastfulness, to follow reason, to love virtue.

When did she pain her parents even by a look? When did she disagree with her neighbors? (I do have somewhat of a hard time believing these last two statements—my thought is that anyone who lives in completely union with God would almost necessarily encounter at least some sort of persecution or misunderstanding. But as Mary would not have been in any way culpable for whatever misunderstanding she might have encountered, perhaps St. Ambrose’s point is that Mary’s kindness would have prevented a lot of the personality conflicts that non-immaculate people often experience.) When did she despise the lowly? When did she avoid the needy? Being wont only to go to such gatherings of men as mercy would not blush at nor modesty pass by, there was nothing gloomy in her eyes, nothing forward in her words, nothing unseemly in her acts, there was not a silly movement, nor unrestrained step, nor was her voice petulant, that the very appearance of her outward being might be the image of her soul, the representation of what is approved. (I think modesty, dignity, and decorum are, in this day and age, much under-rated as specifically feminine virtues. I find it interesting that St. Ambrose would highlight them here.) For a well-ordered house ought to be recognized on the very threshold, and should show at the very first entrance that no darkness is hidden within, as our soul hindered by no restraints of the body may shine abroad like a lamp placed within.

8. Why should I detail her spareness of food, her abundance of services—the one abounding beyond nature, the other almost insufficient for nature? And there were no seasons of slackness, but days of fasting, one upon the other. And if ever the desire for refreshment came, her food was generally what came to hand, taken to keep off death, not to minister to comfort. (Fasting also seems to be mentioned time and time again in Patristic writings as something especially appropriate for consecrated virgins; although, like decorum, fasting is not a popular subject for twenty-first century spiritual reflections. But even while St. Ambrose’s era had its prejudices and “pet” topics just as ours does, I think that the frequency with which fasting is mentioned suggests that we should perhaps give more consideration as to the role of fasting and penance in the spirituality of modern consecrated virgins.) Necessity before inclination caused her to sleep, and yet when her body was sleeping her soul was awake, (I’m sure this is a reference to Song of Songs 5:2) and often in sleep either went again through what had been read, or went on with what had been interrupted by sleep, or carried out what had been designed, or foresaw what was to be carried out. (I think vigil-keeping as a spiritual practice falls into my aforementioned “fasting and penance” category.)

9. She was unaccustomed to go from home, except for divine service, and this with parents or kinsfolk. (Retirement—or, in modern parlance, “not going out much”—is yet another “odd” virtue that the Church Fathers often praise in consecrated virgins. Even though today’s consecrated virgins who live “in the world” are not in any sense cloistered, I still think we should take seriously the attribute of retirement. Basically, my thought is that while modern consecrated virgins should not hesitate to leave home for prayer, for works of charity, or for the sake of their work or apostolate; it might be a good idea to be selective about when, where, and with whom one would go out for purely social or recreational purposes. I think that discretion in this area could help foster a more focused prayer-life.) Busy in private at home, accompanied by others abroad, yet with no better guardian than herself, as she, inspiring respect by her gait and address, progressed not so much by the motion of her feet as by step upon step of virtue. But though the Virgin had other persons who were protectors of her body, she alone guarded her character; she (a consecrated virgin) can learn many points if she (Mary) be her own teacher, who possesses the perfection of all virtues, for whatever she did is a lesson. Mary attended to everything as though she were warned by many, and fulfilled every obligation of virtue as though she were teaching rather than learning. (And so it goes without saying that whenever a consecrated virgin does leave the house, she should behave in a way which befits a public person in the Church!)

10. Such has the Evangelist shown her, such did the angel find her, such did the Holy Spirit choose her. Why delay about details? (Okay, technically, we really don’t know most of the details of Mary’s life, but this might reflect some oral tradition, and I’m willing to suspend disbelief long enough for St. Ambrose to make his point.) How her parents loved her, strangers praised her. How worthy she was that the Son of God should be born of her! She, when the angel entered, was found at home in privacy, without a companion, that no one might interrupt her attention or disturb her; and she did not desire any women as companions, who had the companionship of good thoughts. Moreover, she seemed to herself to be less alone when she was alone. For how should she be alone, who had with her so many books, so many archangels, so many prophets? (Apocryphal details aside, I appreciate the way St. Ambrose describes the spirituality of solitude.)

11. And so, too, when Gabriel visited her (Luke 1:28) did he find her, and Mary trembled, being disturbed, as though at the form of a man, but on hearing his name recognized him as one not unknown to her. And so she was a stranger as to men, but not as to the angel; that we might know that her ears were modest and her eyes bashful. Then when saluted she kept silence, and when addressed she answered, and she whose feelings were first troubled afterwards promised obedience.

12. And holy Scripture points out how modest she was towards her neighbors. For she became more humble when she knew herself to be chosen of God, and went immediately to her kinswoman in the hill country, not in order to gain belief by anything external, for she had believed the word of God. “Blessed,” she (the kinswoman St. Elizabeth) said, “are you who believed.” (Luke 1:56) And she abode with her three months. Now in such an interval of time it is not that faith is being sought for, but kindness which is being shown. And this was after that the child, leaping in his mother's womb, had saluted the mother of the Lord, attaining to reason before birth.

13. And then, in the many subsequent wonders, when the barren bore a son, the virgin conceived, the dumb spoke, the wise men worshipped, Simeon waited, the stars gave notice. Mary, who was moved by the angel’s entrance, was unmoved by the miracles (i.e., because she already had an abundance of faith). Mary, it is said, kept all these things in her heart. (Luke 2:19) Though she was the mother of the Lord, yet she desired to learn the precepts of the Lord, and she who brought forth God, yet desired to know God.

14. And then, how she also went every year to Jerusalem at the solemn day of the Passover, and went with Joseph. Everywhere is modesty the companion of her singular virtues in the Virgin. This, without which virginity cannot exist, must be the inseparable companion of virginity. And so Mary did not go even to the temple without the guardianship of her modesty. (Although I generally think that we should, for the most part, take the Church Fathers “at their word,” I think that this constant need for a chaperone is probably something that was strongly tied to a particular time and culture. That is, I think that a contemporary American woman can live a life of exemplary modesty while regularly traveling or leaving the house by herself. However, common-sense, practical aspect of personal safety should be kept in mind, as well.)

15. This is the likeness of virginity. For Mary was such that her example alone is a lesson for all. If, then, the author displeases us not, let us make trial of the production, that whoever desires its reward for herself may imitate the pattern. How many kinds of virtues shine forth in one Virgin! The secret of modesty, the banner of faith, the service of devotion, the Virgin within the house, the companion for the ministry, the mother at the temple.

16. Oh! How many virgins shall she meet, how many shall she embrace and bring to the Lord, and say: “She has been faithful to her espousal, to my Son; she has kept her bridal couch with spotless modesty.” (My goal is to be one of these virgins!) How shall the Lord Himself commend them to His Father, repeating again those words of His: Holy Father, these are they whom I have kept for You, on whom the Son of Man leant His head and rested; I ask that where I am there they may be with Me. (John 17:24) And if they ought to benefit not themselves only, who lived not for themselves alone, one virgin may redeem her parents, another her brothers. Holy Father, the world has not known Me, but these have known Me, and have willed not to know the world. (John 17:25)

17. What a procession shall that be, what joy of applauding angels when she is found worthy of dwelling in heaven who lived on earth a heavenly life! Then too Mary, taking her timbrel, shall stir up the choirs of virgins, singing to the Lord because they have passed through the sea of this world without suffering from the waves of this world. (Exodus 15:20) Then each shall rejoice, saying: I will go to the altar of God; to God Who makes my youth glad; (I know this is a quotation from the psalms, but I’m wondering if this isn’t also an indication that the Rite of Consecration was bestowed primarily upon younger women in fourth-century Milan.) and, I will offer unto God thanksgiving, and pay my vows unto the Most High.

18. Nor would I hesitate to admit you to the altars of God, whose souls I would without hesitation call altars, on which Christ is daily offered for the redemption of the body. For if the virgin’s body be a temple of God, what is her soul, which, the ashes, as it were, of the body being shaken off, once more uncovered by the hand of the Eternal Priest, exhales the vapor of the divine fire. Blessed virgins, who emit a fragrance through divine grace as gardens do through flowers, temples through religion, altars through the priest.

—St. Ambrose, De Virginibus; Book II, chapter 2

Is Consecrated Virginity the Same As the Single Life?

(About the image: This is a fresco of St. Agnes, one of the most famous consecrated virgin-saints of the early Church. This fresco looks like it was painted in the mid- to late Renaissance, and is probably Italian.)

After a brief absence from blogging, I’m finally getting started on the answers to questions:

I had never heard of a consecrated virgin…ever. Is this the same as single life? Like the three vocations: religious life/priesthood, marriage and single life? I know the name hints to its purpose but could you or someone explain?Thanks a lot! —16 yr. old girl

Dear sixteen-year-old:

Thanks for your question! Since knowing something about consecrated virgins is a major pre-requisite for understanding this blog, I’ve already written a few previous posts explaining consecrated virginity and giving a concise description of this vocation. (I also wrote an article about my consecration for the blog “Roman Catholic Vocations.”)

Even if you have never heard of consecrated virginity as a state in life—which isn’t all that surprising, since this vocation is still relatively unknown, even to devout Catholics—I’m fairly sure you have heard of individual consecrated virgins before, though you may not have realized it. There are many famous consecratedvirgin-saints from the early Church, and often some of them have their names recited at Mass as part of the Eucharistic prayer. (More specifically, they are in the Roman Canon of Eucharistic Prayer I, in the part where you hear the priest pray: “For ourselves, too, we ask some share in the fellowship of your apostles and martyrs, with John the Baptist, Stephen, Matthias, Barnabas, Ignatius, Alexander, Marcellinus, Peter, Felicity, Perpetua, Agatha, Lucy, Agnes, Cecilia, Anastasia, and all the saints…” The women whose names I’ve put in bold type were consecrated virgins in addition to being martyrs.)

In the first centuries of the Church, consecrated virgins were women who promised to live a life of virginity “for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven,” and who were therefore considered “Brides of Christ.” They were consecrated in a solemn liturgical ritual in which the local bishop, acting in the name of the Church, accepted their resolve to live a life of perpetual virginity, and established them as “sacred persons” through a special prayer of consecration. Later on, with the development of religious life (starting about the year 500 A.D.), the practice of consecrating women living “in the world,” or outside of monasteries, gradually fell into disuse until it was explicitly prohibited around the year 1100.

But in the second Vatican Council, the decision was made both to restore the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity for Women Living in the World, as well as to re-instate consecrated virginity as a vocation within the contemporary Church. So, consecrated virginity is both an ancient tradition as well as something of a modern development!

If you were going to identify consecrated virgins with one of the three types of vocations that you mention here, they would fall into the “religious life/priesthood” category, and not into “single life.” However, if we’re going to divide the various kinds of vocations into categories, it may be more helpful to think in terms of the Church’s understanding of the three primary states in life—namely: the clergy, the laity, and consecrated people.

The clergy encompasses men who have received the sacrament of Holy Orders, and who therefore comprise the Church’s governing hierarchy. This includes bishops, priests, and deacons. Bishops are the successors to the original twelve Apostles with the mission to “teach, govern, and sanctify” the flock of Christ. Priests participate in the apostolic authority of their bishops through their preaching and sacramental ministry in parishes and elsewhere. Deacons, whether married or single permanent deacons, or transitional deacons preparing for ordination to the priesthood, are called to assist priests and bishops and to act as servants to the entire people of God.

“Consecrated life” is a broad category describing all the members of the Church who have decided to follow Christ in a radical way, and to imitate His life most closely. This radical following of Christ is typically identified in terms of the three evangelical councils of poverty, chastity, and obedience; all consecrated people embrace the evangelical councils either explicitly or implicitly.* Consecrated people include contemplative monks and nuns, religious with active apostolates, hermits, and consecrated virgins.

The laity is the largest category of the faithful. In the strong sense of the term, “lay people” are those who are neither clergy nor who have entered into a public state of consecrated life. (But sometimes the term “lay” can also be used in a technical sense to refer to everyone who has not received the sacrament of Holy Orders. So in this usage, even a strictly-cloistered nun would be considered a lay person!) Lay people can be married, single, or widowed. Everyone begins their life as a lay person, so in this sense the lay state is basically the “default” status of every Christian—although at the same time it’s important to remember that the Church does recognize the sacrament of Matrimony as a vocation. If we were to speak of the laity having a special mission in the Church, this mission would be to raise solid, loving families (or to participate in Catholic family life), and to sanctify the every-day, temporal, secular world through one’s work and involvement with society.

Trying to put the various vocations into categories may at times seem confusing, because these categories can overlap in many ways. For example, we usually think of marriage as something only applying to the laity, but if a married man is ordained a permanent deacon, then he actually becomes a part of the clergy. Also, men who live consecrated lives as members of religious Orders often become priests as well. And in the case of certain types of vocations—such as that of members of Secular Institutes or those of lay people who have made private vows to observe the evangelical councils—it becomes difficult to classify an individual’s state in life because the “consecrated” elements are not expressed outwardly. I.e., many people who are “lay” according to Canon Law see it as their vocation to live the evangelical councils in a hidden or secret way; so these people could be considered consecrated in a “spiritual” sense, but not an “official” one.

That being said, as far as I know the Church does not consider “the single life” to be a vocation in the same way that priesthood, marriage, or consecrated life are vocations (even though the single life is often discussed in discernment/vocation promotion literature). The reason for this is that vocations, properly speaking, necessarily involve a permanent, stable commitment. This is readily apparent in the vocation to marriage, where the spouses promise to be faithful to each other for the rest of their lives; and also in priesthood and consecrated life, where the ordained or consecrated dedicate themselves to the service of God and the Church until the end of their days. However, the single lay life is very different from these vocations because it is open-ended and does not entail any similarly “final” choice or commitment.

Of course, it could happen that an individual, after much prayer and careful discernment, sincerely feels that they can serve God best if they simply remain single. If this person also senses a call to sacrifice marriage out of love for God, then my thought is that this person would be living something close to a consecrated life, albeit in a private and un-official sense.

It could also happen that someone feels called to remain a single lay person because they are involved in some significant work or form of service which is demanding to the point of making it difficult to sustain a spousal relationship or to properly raise children. In this case, that person may indeed have a personal vocation to the work they were doing, and consequently to the celibacy that that work requires. However, it would be between that person and their spiritual director to discern such a vocation, and not the institutional Church. Because of this, that person’s celibacy would not be an “official” or canonical vocation.

Similarly, a person could live life a single lay person because they were not fortunate in finding the right person to marry, or because some catastrophic situation made marriage impossible. In instances such as this, we could tentatively suppose that this person was truly “called” to live a single and chaste life, since God’s will can often be discerned through His Providential ordering of circumstances. But once again, while it might be helpful for such a person to adopt some of the spirituality of consecrated life, we would not consider this type of singlehood a “vocation” in the full sense of the word because the person concerned did not make deliberate choice or commitment to the life of celibacy that he or she happens to be living (and further, this person might remain open to marriage should it suddenly present itself as a viable possibility).

So in a nutshell, consecrated virginity is very different from the single life. Because unlike single lay people, consecrated virgins have made a public, solemn, total, and permanent commitment to God and the Church, and this sets the focus for their whole lives. They are “consecrated” in such a way that sets them specially aside for God, and which goes beyond the baptismal consecration common to all Christians.

But even in saying all this, I do want to point out that there have been saints from every imaginable circumstance and state in life. ALL Christians, without exception, all to strive for holiness in whatever official or even un-official vocation to which they are called—whether that call was formally confirmed by the Church, or simply heard in the quiet recesses of their heart.

It would take much longer to explain the purpose of consecrated virginity (“prayer and witness” would be an accurate description, but I don’t know if it’s a very complete one). I’ll have to save that for another post!


* An example of an explicit acceptance of the evangelical councils would be religious in a community where the formula for the profession of religious vows specifically mention “poverty,” “chastity,” and “obedience.” And example an implicit acceptance of the evangelical councils could be said to occur in the case of religious in an Order where the wording of the vows is formulated differently—for instance, Dominican nuns vow only obedience, but naturally this obedience includes poverty and celibacy. Benedictines follow an older tradition of vowing “obedience,” “stability,” and “conversion.” Similarly, while consecrated virgins simply state their resolve to live a life of perpetual virginity (technically, this isn’t considered a vow), they should also be committed to live in a spirit of evangelical obedience and poverty.

Closing of the Year of St. Paul

Today, the feast of Sts. Peter and Paul, marks the closing of “The Year of St. Paul.” And I have to say that this was a wonderful year in which to be consecrated! Over the course of the last year, and in light of my consecration, many of St. Paul’s words took on a new and more vivid meaning for me.

I felt that I could say with St. Paul, in my happiness…:

“For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38-39)

“…I even consider everything as a loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have accepted the loss of all things and I consider them so much rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him…” (Philippians 3:89)

“But as it is written: ‘What eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and what has not entered the human heart, what God has prepared for those who love him.’” (1 Corinthians 2:9)

…and in my difficulties:

“…but he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.’ I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me.’” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

“I know the one whom I have trusted and I am certain that He, the just judge, has the power to keep safe what he has entrusted to me until that Day.” (an antiphon from Morning Prayer, cf. 2 Timothy 1:12)

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Additionally, today five American Archbishops received the pallium—a symbol of their “metropolitan” (i.e., extending over an extensive geographical territory comprising several dioceses) authority, and also of Christ’s “easy yoke”—in Rome from the Holy Father.

(Archbishop Dolan receiving the pallium as Archbishop of New York. H/t “Whispers in the Loggia.”)

I found this ceremony exciting to read about, not only because New York’s Archbishop Dolan was one to receive the pallium; but also because the pallium ceremony references consecrated virgins, albeit in a less-than-obvious way.

The pallium is a narrow band of cloth, decorated with six crosses and made out of white wool. And that wool comes, in part, from two lambs which are blessed every year on the feast of St. Agnes, who is perhaps the most emblematic of the Church’s early consecrated virgin saints. Archbishop Vigneron of Detroit, another recipient of the pallium, writes more about this here on his blog.

Even though I don’t think the Church explicitly describes this particular meaning of this aspect of the pallium ceremony anywhere, personally I like to think that the blessed wool in the pallium is symbolic of the way that consecrated virgins (and the Church’s consecrated women more generally) help support the hierarchical Church through their life of prayer, witness, and sacrificial love.

(N.b.: Our Vocation Director in New York gives a great interview about the significance of the pallium ceremony on our local news, which you can watch here.)

St. Ambrose on Parents and Discernment

In Book I, chapter 12 of De Virginibus, St. Ambrose, writing in the fourth century A.D., discusses the problems some young women of his time faced when deciding to become consecrated virgins—namely, the objections of their parents.

Reading this passage, it struck me that some things never change. Concerns about their parents’ reaction STILL present one of the most difficult subjective obstacles for young people in embracing a celibate vocation. Although St. Ambrose here is talking specifically about consecrated virgins, I think his writing on this topic would be equally applicable to a young woman discerning religious life today. (And possibly also to discerning young men—though I think that dealing with parents’ possibly negative reactions presents an especially poignant challenge for women.)

In a nutshell, St. Ambrose’s advice to aspiring consecrated virgins is to be bold in accepting their vocation in the face of parental disapproval, even when this disapproval would have serious negative practical consequences. He points out that, ultimately, a spousal relationship with Christ would more than outweigh the tribulations incurred in even the most catastrophic of parental rejections. He also describes the importance of a consecrated virgin having a truly undivided heart; that is, a consecrated virgin’s affections and resolve should be so totally focused on Christ that nothing—not even her closeness to her parents—should be able to dissuade her from offering herself completely to her Beloved.

Although this line of reasoning may seem a bit extreme or at least one-sided to modern readers, the message St. Ambrose is trying to convey is still valid and important in today’s world. In keeping with the fourth commandment, it has always been important to love, honor, and respect one’s parents. However, St. Ambrose may not have felt the need to emphasize this to his original audience, since the concept of filial reverence was probably more prominent in his native cultural than it is in ours.

And while St. Ambrose may seem to write as if the appropriate level of spiritual detachment from one’s parents is to be expected as a matter of course, I think his writings also reveal an understanding that such a detachment is not easy to achieve. He describes it as a struggle, but makes it clear that a victory in this area is well worth the pain and effort it entails.

To read more of this blog’s commentary on De Virginibus, see here, here, and here. To read De Virginibus in its entirety, go to this page on NewAdvent.org. I have made some slight grammatical changes in the interest of clarity. Emphases, in bold, and commentary, in red, are mine.

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It is very desirable that parents should encourage the desire for the virgin life, but more praiseworthy when the love of God draws a maiden even against their will. The violence of parents and the loss of property are not to be feared, and an instance of this is related by St. Ambrose.

62. It is a good thing, then, that the zeal of parents, like favoring gales, should aid a virgin; (I think this even more true after a woman is consecrated than it is while she is still discerning, even though “discernment” seems to be what St. Ambrose is addressing here.) but it is more glorious if the fire of tender age, even without the incitement of those older, bursts forth of its own self into the flame of chastity. Parents will refuse a dowry, but you have a wealthy Spouse, satisfied with Whose treasures you will not miss the revenues of a father’s inheritance. How much are poverty and chastity superior to bridal gifts!

63. And yet of whom have you heard as ever, because of her desire for chastity, having been deprived of her lawful inheritance? Parents speak against her, but are willing to be overcome. (Apparently, then as now, most parents tended eventually to “come around” in accepting their daughter’s vocation.) They resist at first because they are afraid to believe; they often are angry that one may learn to overcome; they threaten to disinherit to try whether one is able not to fear temporal loss; they caress with exquisite allurements to see if one cannot be softened by the inducement of various pleasures. (When St. Ambrose here describes the reasons for parental opposition to a young woman’s choice of a life of consecrated virginity, it occurs to me that noting much has really changed over the centuries—these descriptions could fit many of today’s parents equally well. But I do think that the last two reasons, which involve parents testing their daughter’s resolve, are interesting, since they seem to arise from genuine parental concern for the daughter’s well-being rather than from fear.) You are being exercised, O virgin, while you are being urged. And the anxious entreaties of your parents are your first battles. Conquer your affection first, O maiden. If you conquer your home, you conquer the world.

64. But suppose that the loss of your patrimony awaits you; are not the future realms of heaven a compensation for perishable and frail possessions? (Here I have to point out the seriousness of a loss of patrimony for young women in St. Ambrose’s time; unlike today, women generally depended on their husbands or male relatives for support. Without a patrimony, a consecrated virgin faced the very real threat of grinding poverty. So it seems that St. Ambrose is urging consecrated virgins to a truly heroic level of trust in Providence and hope in the life to come.) For if we believe the heavenly message, there is no one who has forsaken house, or parents, or brethren, or wife, or children, for the kingdom of God's sake, who shall not receive sevenfold more in this present time, and in the world to come shall have everlasting life. (Luke 18:29-30) Entrust your faith to God; you who would entrust your money to man, lend it to Christ. The faithful keeper of the deposit of your hope pays the talent of your faith with manifold interest. The Truth does not deceive, Justice does not circumvent, Virtue does not deceive. But if you believe not God's word, at least believe instances.

65. Within my memory a girl once noble in the world, now more noble in the sight of God, being urged to a marriage by her parents and kinsfolk, took refuge at the holy altar. To where could a virgin better flee, than to there where the Virgin Sacrifice is offered? Nor was even that the limit of her boldness. She, the oblation of modesty, the victim (i.e., sacrificial offering) of chastity, was standing at the altar of God, now placing upon her head the right hand of the priest, asking his prayers, and now impatient at the righteous delay, placing the top of her head under the altar. (You have to admire this young woman’s nerve!) “Can any better veil,” she said, “cover me better than the altar which consecrates the veils themselves?” Of her, such a bridal veil is most suitable on which Christ, the Head of all, is daily consecrated. (It doesn’t seem that the events narrated in this episode describe the actual reception of the Rite of Consecration by this young woman. While the Rite of Consecration certainly did exist in at least some form by this point in history, I think that this woman’s actions were instead a dramatic but non-liturgical expression of her resolve to receive formal consecration.) “What are you doing, my kinsfolk? Why do you still trouble my mind with seeking marriage? I have long since provided for that. Do you offer me a bridegroom? I have found a better one. Make the most you can of my wealth, boast of his (i.e., the mortal suitor’s) nobility, extol his power, I have Him with Whom no one can compare himself, rich in the world, powerful in empire, noble in heaven. If you have such a one, I do not reject the choice; if you do not find such, you do me not a kindness, my relatives, but an injury.” (The wording in this translation is a bit hard to follow here; but rest assured, the original Latin is probably worse! My thought is that the phrase ending with “…I do not reject the choice” is the young woman trying to express how she wouldn’t deny the natural desirability or good qualities of the potential earthly husband in question. Her objection is not that the marriage planned for her would be something bad, but rather that Christ greatly surpasses even the best of mortal spouses. “If you do not find such…” might mean something like: “If you don’t understand the absolute primacy of Christ the way I do…”)

66. When the others were silent, one burst forth somewhat roughly: “If,” he said, “your father were alive, would he suffer you to remain unmarried?” Then she replied with more religion and more restrained piety: “And perchance he is gone (A clearer translation might read: “And it’s a good think that he is gone…”) that no one may be able to hinder me.” Which answer concerning her father, but warning as to himself (i.e., the one asking her the question), he made good by his own speedy death. (Yikes!) So the others, each of them, fearing the same for himself, began to assist and not to hinder her as before, and her virginity involved not the loss of the property due to her, but also received the reward of her integrity. You see, maidens, the reward of devotion; and do you, parents, be warned by the example of transgression. (For those of you who are young women discerning a vocation against the wishes of your parents: Don’t try this at home! Loudly speculating about how much easier it would be to follow your call if your parents were dead is NOT the way to win them over to your side. St. Ambrose may have meant this story as a cautionary tale of literal dangers, but I think he may have also meant in the subtler sense of an illustration of the gravity of the consequences resulting from a desire to interfere with God’s will for another soul.)

—St. Ambrose, De Virginibus; Book I, chapter 12

Any Questions?

If anyone—especially newer readers—has any specific questions about consecrated virginity lived in the world, please feel free to ask them in the comment box. In addition to providing me with more material for writing posts, this would also help me gain a better idea of what topics I should be addressing in this blog.

Just keep in mind that, unlike e-mail correspondence, I consider everything written in the comment box to be public. So I reserve the right to quote and discuss readers’ comments in my regular posts (and also to correct spelling and grammar where necessary).

And please always remember to consider the source! While I certainly answer all questions to the best of my ability, and try to refer to magisterial documents whenever possible, I am still only a twenty-four-year-old graduate student who was consecrated not six months ago. So don’t mistake this blog for something authoritative! :-)

Nominated

It turns out that this year I was nominated for the Catholic New Media Awards (formerly the Catholic Blog Awards) for the first time—and in two categories!

“Sponsa Christi” was nominated for “Best Blog by a Religious” (technically, I’m not a religious, but close enough) and for “Best Blog by a Woman.” Voting began on June 1 and runs through the end of this month.

So welcome to any new readers I may have from the CNMA links, and thanks to whoever nominated me!

Easter Bees

In this, my blog’s latest installment of commentary on De Virginibus, St. Ambrose compares consecrated virgins to bees, taking his inspiration from the honeycomb mentioned in the Song of Songs 5:1.* (For previous entries from this blog on De Virginibus, see here, here, and here. To read Book I of De Virginibus in its entirety, click here.)

At first, I thought that this seemed like a weird metaphor—I for one would not have thought to compare consecrated virgins to insects!—and saying that it was implied by the honeycomb in the Song of Songs seemed like a bit of a “stretch.” But in some ways this particular section seemed very appropriate to post while we’re still in the remainder of the Easter season. Specifically, because bees also find their way into the Exultet, perhaps the most magnificent and moving of the Church’s Easter hymns, which is sung in conjunction with the lighting of the Pascal candle.

The Easter bees are unfortunately lost in translation right now, (though this might change when the new English translation of the Liturgy comes out) so you probably didn’t hear about them when you went to the Easter Vigil this year. However, here is an English translation of their mention in the Latin Exultet:

Therefore, in this night of grace,
accept, O Holy Father, the evening sacrifice of this praise,
which Holy Church renders to You
in the solemn offering of this waxen candle
by the hands of Your ministers from the work of bees.

We are knowing now the proclamations of this column,
which glowing fire kindles in honor of God.
Which fire, although it is divided into parts,
is knowing no loss from its light being lent out.
For it is nourished by the melting streams of wax,
which the mother bee produced for the substance of this precious torch.**

Here, bees are beautiful because they are fruitful, and their fruitfulness comes to serve an exceptionally noble purpose—namely, the praise of God. Thus in this section of De Virginibus, St. Ambrose describes consecrated virgins as being like these “Easter bees” in their life of prayer. Emphases, in bold, and comments, in red, are mine.

***
Taking the passage concerning the honeycomb in the Song of Songs, he expounds it, comparing the sacred virgins to bees.

40. Let, then, your work be as it were a honeycomb, for virginity is fit to be compared to bees, so laborious is it, so modest, so continent. The bee feeds on dew, it knows no marriage couch, it makes honey. The virgin’s dew is the divine word, for the words of God descend like the dew. The virgin’s modesty is unstained nature. The virgin’s produce is the fruit of the lips, (i.e., prayer) without bitterness, abounding in sweetness. They work in common, and their fruit is in common. (Although some consecrated virgins of St. Ambrose’s time did live together in sort of proto-convents, they do not seem to have had the emphasis on the “common life” the same way that later, truly monastic religious Orders like the Benedictines would. So I think that the common “work” and “fruit” mentioned here probably represent the prayer of consecrated virgins. If consecrated virgins were charged with liturgical prayer in St. Ambrose’s day as they are now, then this common work and fruit could refer to the unity of the voice of the Church at prayer.)

41. How I wish you, my daughter, to be an imitator of these bees, whose food is flowers, (“Food” here probably means the contemplative reading of Scripture) whose offspring is collected and brought together by the mouth. Do imitate her, my daughter. Let no veil of deceit be spread over your words; let them have no covering of guile, that they may be pure, and full of gravity.

42. And let an eternal succession of merits be brought forth by your mouth. Gather not for yourself alone (for how do you know when your soul shall be required of you?), lest leaving your granaries heaped full with corn, which will be a help neither to your life nor to your merits, you be hurried thither where you cannot take your treasure with you. Be rich then, but towards the poor, that as they share in your nature they may also share your goods. (Here is a call for consecrated virgins to live a life of generosity. I think that modern consecrated virgins—even when they are full-time graduate students and therefore somewhat materially poor!—can still be generous with their time, prayers, concern for other, and friendship. In my own life, I find that it’s important for me to renew my decision to “give of myself” every day.)

43. And I also point out to you what flower is to be culled, that one it is Who said: I am the Flower of the field, and the Lily of the valleys, as a lily among thorns, (This seems like an allusion to the Eucharist) which is a plain declaration that virtues are surrounded by the thorns of spiritual wickedness, so that no one can gather the fruit who does not approach with caution. (I’m very glad that St. Ambrose makes this last point. I think you could read this line as a reference to the persecution from “the world” that those truly striving for holiness will inevitable face at some time. But my though is that St. Ambrose is actually trying to draw our attention to the fact that attempting to scale the heights of virtue leaves one with the danger of potentially having farther to fall. My thought is that this is partially why consecrated virginity requires a very solid “human formation.” That is, if a person is not well-balanced on a natural level, then the practice of the supernatural virtue of virginity is likely to exacerbate that person’s emotional, human problems.)

—St. Ambrose, De Virginibus; Book I, chapter 8

* I’m linking to New Advent’s copy of the Douay-Rheims version, instead of my typical practice of referencing the USCCB’s New American Bible, because the N.A.B. for some reason doesn’t include the word “honeycomb” in its translation!
** From “What Does the Prayer Really Say?”