Stages of love
Daily Reading for August 20 • Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, 1153
Human love for God progresses through four stages, Bernard says. We begin by loving ourselves only, a sterile love that produces nothing and leads nowhere. But in time we notice that we cannot survive alone and that God graciously meets our needs. We then begin to love God, but only because of what God does for us. This is the second stage of love. Gradually, as we experience God’s love, our love is purified and expanded so that we are moved to love God for God’s own sake, not merely for the benefits he bestows upon us. This is the third stage of love, but one final stage remains: the love of ourselves—as God loves us and for God’s sake. We grow inebriated with divine love and forget ourselves, becoming like broken dishes, rushing toward God, clinging to him, becoming one with him in spirit. “To lose yourself, as if you no longer existed, to cease completely to experience yourself, to reduce yourself to nothing is not a human sentiment but a divine experience,” Bernard writes. In this life, we experience this final stage of love only fleetingly, if at all. In one of his sermons on the Song of Songs, Bernard speaks of “a sudden momentary blaze of glory, so that a great flame of love is enkindled in the soul.”
This, of course, is the language of mysticism. . . . For Bernard, the human soul retains its identity and becomes all the more alive. Others, like Gregory of Nyssa, speak of moving into a darkness where God discloses himself. Bernard, however, writes of gazing upon God in the luminous face of Christ. Bernard’s mystical experience is an intense relationship of love, preceded by much prayer and longing; it is the culmination of a long, plodding ascent. When the moment passes, it leaves one craving more. It is a foretaste of heaven.
From God Seekers: Twenty Centuries of Christian Spiritualities by Richard H. Schmidt (Eerdmans, 2008).



I don't know whether I'm stumbling at what Bernard said or over how Richard Schmidt summarizes it.
If our first love were nothing but "a sterile love that produces nothing and leads nowhere," why would there be stages and how or why would love progress?
And does Bernard actually leave our love for other people (animals and the world around us for that matter0 our of the process?
Doesn't the process actually begin for most people with our 'not yet self' loving mother (and maybe dad if he's engaged enough day to day to be a defining presence)? I don't know Bernard on this, but the judgment that a baby crying from hunger is selfish is in Augustine. I think it's simply mistaken. The cry of hunger (and emotions that go with it) is pain and primordial longing , and it appears before the baby has any differentiated self-consciousness.
Prior to any selfish stage that we can grow through, we are loved, and being loved by another gives us a self and the beginnings of self-consciousness. The limit of that stage is recognizing that our self-reference isn't enough to reach out to the world and people around us. We recognize that others have longings and hunger too, and that as others give us joy, we're also giving it back to them, and so we start to imitate the love we received at our beginning by learning to love others; from that point bigger human loves and some discovery of gratitude and thankfulness for all that we've received beyond any human giving it to us, moves us toward God loving God (and the increasingly Godward gaze that longs to know our divine lover and maker).
Posted by Donald Schell
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August 20, 2008 12:51 PM