The Measure of Love — To Love Immeasurably

✦ Love Immeasurably

Bernard returns to where he began — and the circle closes. He opened with the question: why should I love God? He answered: God Himself — nothing more reasonable, nothing more profitable. Yesterday he calculated the debt — created and restored, I owe Him myself twice over — and found that a thousand selves would not be enough. And now he gives the measure: there is no measure.

The measure of our love to God is to love immeasurably. The sentence sounds like a paradox — a measure that is no measure. But Bernard means it precisely. If the One being loved is infinite, then the love owed to Him is infinite. If He is immeasurable, the love must be immeasurable. Any limit we place on the love is a lie — because the One we love has no limit.

And then Bernard names what the love is: not a gift but a debt. The soul does not love God as a generous gesture — offering something extra, something above and beyond. The soul loves God because she owes it. Created by Him, restored by Him, given herself twice over, given God Himself — the love is the minimum response to the maximum gift. It is not charity. It is justice. 🙏

✦ Everything I Need and All I've Ever Wanted

Bernard turns from theology to prayer — and the turn is seamless, because for Bernard, theology was always prayer. The mind that contemplated the infinite love of God naturally falls to its knees. I'll love you, Lord. Not as a resolution. Not as a commitment to try harder. As a response. The love that pours back toward the Source from which it came.

You are everything I need. The blank check of I AM — filled in completely. And all I've ever wanted. The deepest desire of the human heart — named, at last, for what it always was. Not the things of the world. Not the comforts of the earth. Not the approval of men. God Himself. The reason to love and the reward of loving — the same. 🙏

✦ The Most Honest Prayer

Bernard prays the most honest prayer a creature can offer to the Creator. I'll love you with everything I've got. Everything. All the heart. All the soul. All the might. And it's not enough. Bernard knows it. He does not pretend otherwise. He does not inflate his devotion or exaggerate his capacity. It's not as much as I should. But it's as much as I'm capable of right now.

This is not false humility. This is the arithmetic of grace — calculated honestly. The soul that gives everything she has to God is giving all she can. And all she can is not all He deserves. The gap between what is given and what is owed is infinite — because the One who is owed is infinite. And Bernard does not despair over the gap. He names it. He acknowledges it. And then he makes the most beautiful request in the entire treatise: I'll love you more as you grow my heart.

The capacity to love is itself a gift. The heart that loves God today will love Him more tomorrow — not because it tried harder, but because He grew it. The increase is His work. The capacity is His gift. The love that pours out was planted by the love that poured in. And the growing will never stop — because the heart will never reach the level He truly deserves. The loving is eternal. The growing is eternal. And the gap — the beautiful, humbling, infinite gap — is eternal too. 🙏

✦ Even When the Best Falls Short

Bernard echoes Psalm 139 — You saw me before I was formed. The knowing came before the being. God did not discover the soul after creating it. He knew it before He made it. Every part. Every weakness. Every limitation. Every morning that would fall short. Every prayer that would be too small. Every love that would not reach the level it should.

And He keeps a record — not of the shortfall, but of the effort. Everyone who does their best. Even when the best falls short. Even when the everything-I've-got is not as much as it should be. He records the best that was offered — not the perfection that was missed.

This is the God who forgave 500 denari. This is the Father who runs to the prodigal. This is the Shepherd who counts the sheep and goes after the one. He does not measure the love by whether it reached the infinite standard. He receives the love because it was given — honestly, humbly, with everything the creature had. 🙏

✦ Who Can Describe

Bernard closes the treatise — and he closes it with a confession. I've said enough. Three chapters on why we should love God. The arithmetic of creation and restoration. The debt of love that a thousand selves could not repay. The measure that is immeasurable. The prayer that gives everything and knows it is not enough. And after all of it — Bernard says: who can truly describe it?

The greatest writer on the love of God in the medieval church — the man whose words shaped nine centuries of Christian devotion — says at the end: I cannot describe it. The depth of love He actually deserves is beyond the reach of the deepest theology, the most beautiful prayer, the most passionate heart. The words fall short. The feelings fall short. The love falls short. And that falling-short is not failure. It is the natural condition of the finite creature standing before the infinite God.

But the falling-short does not stop the loving. Bernard did not stop writing because the words were insufficient. The pilgrim does not stop rising before dawn because the devotion is imperfect. The creature does not stop loving because the love will never be enough. She loves anyway. With everything she's got. As much as she's capable of. And trusts that He will grow her heart for more. 🙏