Bernard of Clairvaux and the second crusade
The great mystic preaches war
Bernard of Clairvaux is the most influential churchman of the twelfth century — a monk, a mystic, a theologian, a reformer, a man whose letters have more authority than most popes. He is also the man who preaches the Second Crusade, and the Second Crusade is a catastrophe.
In 1146 AD, the news arrives in the West that Edessa — the easternmost of the Crusader states — has fallen to the Muslim ruler Zengi. Pope Eugenius III calls a new Crusade. He asks Bernard to preach it.
Bernard preaches. Tens of thousands take the cross. The French king Louis VII and the German emperor Conrad III join. The crowds that hear Bernard preach are so large that he runs out of Crusade crosses to distribute and tears his habit into strips.
The Crusade departs in 1147. By 1149 it is over, having accomplished nothing except the deaths of tens of thousands of people and the severe weakening of the Crusader states it was meant to rescue.
Bernard's response to the failure is honest and anguished. He writes that he does not know what to make of it. He blames the sins of the Crusaders. He does not recant the Crusade — he cannot bring himself to say that God did not will what he preached. But the failure clearly troubles him.
The man who wrote the most beautiful Latin mystical theology of the twelfth century also preached one of the century's greatest military disasters.
Both are true. One man. One life.
“Love seeks no cause beyond itself and no fruit; it is its own fruit, its own enjoyment. I love because I love; I love in order to love.”
— Bernard of Clairvaux, Sermon 83 on the Song of Songs, c. 1135 AD
“Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth; For your love is better than wine.”
Bernard's mystical theology — the soul's love for God as the purest form of love, seeking no cause beyond itself — is some of the most beautiful writing in the Christian tradition. His Crusade preaching is some of the most consequentially damaging.
The same man. The same century. The same commitment to Christ.
This is not an excuse for Bernard's Crusade preaching. It is a warning. The most spiritually serious people in any generation are capable of the most serious errors when they apply their spiritual intensity to political and military causes.
Intensity is not discernment. Sincerity is not correctness. The depth of the devotion does not guarantee the wisdom of the application.
Where do you apply your spiritual intensity in ways that may not actually be wise? Who has the standing to tell you so?