July 21, 2025
Read Part I – Rediscovering St. Bonaventure’s Journey of the Mind to God
As mechanistic and mind-numbing as it may at times seem, hang in there as we continue on with our journey, now briefly examining The Stages within the Itinerarium Mentis in Deum today, on this—the Feast of our Franciscan brother, Saint Lawrence of Brindisi, Priest and Doctor of the Church.
In the First Stage, the initial step is the mind turning its sense faculties toward those things subject to the senses—the material world—and taking in God’s power, wisdom, and goodness in all creatures as a reflection of the Most Holy Trinity: mirroring, if you will, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Saint Bonaventure says that we must begin at the lowest rung of the ladder of creatures:
“Let us place our first step in the ascent at the bottom, setting the whole visible world before us as a mirror through which we may pass over to God, the Supreme Creative Artist” (Itinerarium, c.1, #9).
From various attributes of all visible creation, the soul rises to the power, wisdom, and goodness of God,
“in so far as He is existing, living, intelligent, purely spiritual, incorruptible, and immutable” (Itinerarium, c.1, #13).
The soul searches for a panoramic view of material creation seen from seven particular perspectives—greatness, beauty, and order, to name just a few. Finding these panoramic vistas, the immensity of the power, presence, and essence of God the Creator is clearly evident. Think of an early evening sunset, a hike up a rugged mountain summit, merely driving through the desert, walking on the shoreline of a lake or river, running or biking on an empty, seemingly endless parkway. The examples are inexhaustible. The Seraphic Doctor himself minces no words in telling us as much:
“Whoever is not enlightened by such great splendor in created things is blind; whoever does not turn to the First Principle after so many signs is a fool. Open your eyes, therefore; alert the ears of your spirit, unlock your lips, and apply your heart that you may see, hear, praise, love, and adore, and honor your God in every creature, lest perchance, the entire universe rise against you” (Itinerarium, c.1, #15).
In the Second Stage of the ascent, Bonaventure meditates on the process of sensation—the means by which the created world enters our soul. The enlightened mind turns its imagination—that is, its power of representing things—to sense data and beholds in these images faint analogies of the mystery of the Blessed Trinity and of the Incarnation:
“If, therefore, all knowable things must generate a likeness of themselves, they manifestly proclaim that in them, as in mirrors, can be seen the eternal generation of the Word, the Image, and the Son, eternally emanating from God the Father” (Itinerarium, c.2, #7).
At this point—what could be called the Third Stage—St. Bonaventure sums up the first two stages of the ascent by telling us that only the contemplative man can rise from material creatures to God,
“for creatures are shadows, echoes, and pictures” (Itinerarium, c.2, #11)
of the eternal Source and Light. Turning from the material world and sensation, Bonaventure encourages us as well to explore the image of God found in the soul of all sincerely devout men. In the depths of our soul’s faculties—the memory, intellect, and will—our soul finds a reflection of God. As our intellect contemplates and comes to know truth, it does so in the ever-consuming Light of the Eternal Truth; and when our will sees something as good, it does so only in the Light of the Absolute Good. Saint Bonaventure tells us quite openly to,
“See, therefore, how close the soul is to God, and how, through their activity, the memory leads us to Eternity, the intelligence to Truth, and the elective faculty to the highest Good… [and] from the memory and the intelligence is breathed forth love, as the bond of both” (Itinerarium, c.3, #4–5).
Thus, when the soul meditates upon itself in this way, it mysteriously rises, as if through a mirror, to the reflection of the divine processions: to the Father generating the Word, and with the Word spiraling the Spirit, who is Love breathed forth.
In the Fourth Stage, Saint Bonaventure deals with the restoration of our fallen image—only found in and through Jesus Christ. Interestingly, he notices how strange it is that, given the fact that God is so close to souls, so very few of us are concerned with perceiving God within ourselves. Distracted by worldly cares, clouded by unseemly sense images cemented into our imaginations, drawn away by concupiscence, the soul cannot reflectively re-enter into itself as an “image of God” (Genesis 1:26). The soul lies fallen, essentially consumed by the things of the sensual, in real need of someone to lift it up so that it can see its true self—that is, as created in the image and likeness of God and the temple of the Holy Spirit.
For Saint Bonaventure, the only solution to this brokenness lies in the Eternal Word made flesh. He continually references the Greek Fathers’ notion that the restoration of the image of God in man is received through Jesus Christ, who is the image of the Father (Hebrews 1:3). Moreover, it is only through Jesus Christ alone, the Crucified One, that the image of our soul is:
“clothed over with the three theological virtues (faith, hope, and love), by which the soul is purified, enlightened, and perfected. In this way the image is reformed and made conformable to the heavenly Jerusalem. When the soul recovers her spiritual senses, the soul now sees, hears, smells, tastes, and embraces her beloved, and can sing as a bride the Canticle of Canticles, which was composed for the exercise of contemplation proper to the fourth stage. No one reaches this except him who receives it…” (Itinerarium, c.4, #3).
In the Fifth Stage, the soul is now ready to transcend itself and to enter the Holy of Holies—the principal symbol of the presence of God in the Old Testament, and only found within the deepest depth of every human soul. Now it gathers all its strength in order to think of the most prized ideas that it is capable of grasping. This stage is most peculiar—perhaps even frustrating—in that it is shrouded in utter mystery. When we “look” at the Highest Being, we think we are seeing nothing, for Being Itself is so absolutely certain that it cannot be thought not to be; yet, so conditioned to the darkness of being and the phantasms of material things, we seem to be seeing nothing when we gaze on the Light of Being Itself.
“We do not understand that this very darkness is the supreme illumination of our mind, just as when the eye sees pure light, it seems to be seeing nothing” (Itinerarium, c.5, #4).
Traditionally, St. John of the Cross speaks of a similar contemplative gaze:
“The same thing happens in the realm of spiritual light with respect to the sight of the soul, which is the intellect. This general knowledge or the light we describe as supernatural strikes the soul so purely and simply, and the soul itself is so detached from all the intelligible species that are the objects of the intellect, that the intellect does not perceive it. Rather, at its purest times, it casts the soul into darkness—it withdraws the intellect from its accustomed lights, species, and phantasms—then the darkness is clearly perceived and realized. But when this divine light strikes, the soul neither experiences darkness nor sees any light nor receives anything that it knows, from any source…” (The Ascent of Mount Carmel, bk. II, c.14, #10).
Clearly then, if “God” is the name of The Being that is “the first, eternal, most simple, most actual and most perfect,” such a being cannot be thought not to be, nor can it be thought to be other than one.
“If you behold this in the pure simplicity of your mind, you will be bathed in the brilliance of Eternal Light” (Itinerarium, c.5, #6).
While the mind still gazes at the idea of Being, it realizes that Being is also The Good. Therefore, in the Sixth Stage, the soul grasps the tremendous truth that the first is also the last; that Being is also self-communicating love. The mind begins to realize that The Good cannot remain in its solitude; it must display itself in the infinite richness which are the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit—three Persons and one Essence.
In the “vision” of this divine drama, the mind reaches its highest perfection. Now the soul has finally climbed and turned toward the summit of the most majestic mountain—it has reached the innermost point of its own being. Here, the power of the intellect is at its end, yet the desire of the soul is still not satisfied. The mind not only longs to apprehend the Triune God—it ardently desires to reach Him, to be with Him, to be one with Him.
Who, then, will help the soul bridge the abyss which separates it from full union with The Beloved—humanly speaking, that which is unbridgeable? Saint Bonaventure does not abandon us here, though we may seemingly be completely exasperated. For there is one Being that is between the Absolute and all of us lowly creatures: the One Mediator, Jesus Christ. As the Crucified One, He came to St. Francis and, quite literally, transformed him into His own image and likeness. Therefore, it is now upon the Crucified that the soul must continually fix its gaze and confidently wait, confidently expecting the consummate union with the Most Blessed Trinity. In the Crucified Alone, all of us weary and battered souls know that everything is given—an undeserved free gift—even the grace of mystical union.
Ergo, we push on.
In this final climactic stage, the intellect and its powers and faculties are silent: the soul peacefully rests as one with God, having encountered His presence and divine love.
Though there are, and seemingly always will be, a myriad of absurdly pantheistic depictions of St. Francis of Assisi, the Franciscan School is actually largely defined by its essentially mystical way. To live our lives in imitation of these innumerable saintly Seraphic Friars, we too must die and enter into the darkness; we too must constantly impose silence upon our own cares and personal desires; we too must let go of our sordid imaginings so that, with Christ Crucified, we may one day sincerely say with Philip:
“Lord, show us the Father, and we shall be satisfied” (John 14:8).
Consummatum est!