LUDOLPH of SAXONY. The Life of Jesus Christ: Part Two – Volume 2, Chapters 58-89, translated by Milton T. Walsh. Cistercian Studies vol. 284. Collegeville, MN: Cistercian Publications, 2022. Pp. xvii + 766. $79.95 cloth. ISBN 978-0-87907-284-1. Reviewed by Patrick F. O’CONNELL, Gannon University, Erie, PA 16541.

Like the Gospel accounts themselves, this final segment of Ludolph the Carthusian’s Vita Christi is marked by the increased spiritual and emotional intensity of the culminating events of the Christian story of salvation. This massive fourteenth-century compendium is now available in English in its entirety with the completion of Milton T. Walsh’s four-volume translation, a total of 3,182 pages of text (supplemented here by an additional 54 pages providing a complete table of Gospel passages discussed and a comprehensive index of the entire work), published between 2018 and 2022.

The material in this last volume can be conveniently considered as composed of three sections. The first of these, on the Passion, though comprising only ten of the remaining 32 chapters (58-67), actually takes up just over half of the text – 362 of its 712 pages. The following fourteen chapters (68-81 – counting the transitional chapter on Holy Saturday), focusing on the Resurrection and Christ’s appearances to the disciples, are generally considerably shorter, 183 pages in toto, about half the length of the preceding material. Finally, chapters 82-89 include reflections on the Ascension, Pentecost and Mary’s Assumption, along with a couple of more general chapters not directly linked to biblical passages, a pair of chapters on the Last Judgment and a concluding coda, an additional 167 pages.

Ludolph’s general approach in these culminating chapters remains consistent with his procedure throughout the work: he provides texts of successive passages of the Gospels, generally amplified by explanatory details, combining and harmonizing the accounts of the different Gospels where appropriate; then follow extensive reflections on the meaning and significance of the passage for the moral and spiritual edification of the reader, drawing on commentary by patristic and medieval authorities, usually cited by name (not always accurately but according to currently accepted attributions), as well as incorporating, without acknowledgement, material from more contemporary authors writing in the same genre as Ludolph (all identified in the translator’s extensive marginal citations); finally each chapter concludes with a short prayer responding to the preceding reflections.

But these final chapters, particularly those on the Passion, have some unique characteristics as well. Structurally, the ten chapters on the Passion utilize a pattern dating back to Gregory the Great at the end of the sixth century that had become quite popular in meditations on the Passion in the high Middle Ages. After an introductory chapter providing instructions on how to meditate on the Passion in order “to make the sufferings of Christ your soul’s sweet feast” (2), the eight chapters that follow align the successive stages of the passion with the chronological progression of the liturgical horarium. The hour of compline for Thursday of Holy Week is devoted to the agony in the garden, the arrest of Jesus and his appearance before Annas (23-73); the night office (matins) focuses on the encounter with Annas and the trial before Caiaphas, the mockery of Christ and Peter’s triple denial (74-107); prime, at dawn, considers the fate of Judas, Christ’s first appearance before Pilate and his encounter with Herod (108-37); terce (9 a.m.) relates the return to Pilate, the release of Barabbas, the scourging and crowning with thorns, Christ’s condemnation and the Via Crucis (138-99); the hour of sext (midday) details the events of the crucifixion itself, with particular attention to the first six of the traditional seven last words of Christ (200-76), while the following hour of none (mid-afternoon) reflects on the last of these sayings, on Christ’s death and the accompanying cosmic signs (277-307); vespers describes the deposition (308-20) and the second compline, that of Friday itself, the details of Christ’s burial (321-43). This Passion material is concluded by a closing frame chapter (344-62) consisting principally of a long summary from an unknown source (attributed to Augustine by Ludolph), followed by an apostrophe to the cross spoken by St. Andrew (in a legendary account) and passages in praise of the cross drawn from (Pseudo-)Chrysostom, Rabanus Maurus and Eckbert of Schönau’s Stimulus Amoris (here as elsewhere in the text assigned to St. Anselm); a short transitional passage on observing the paschal triduum then prepares the audience for what is to follow in the next bloc of material.

As the translator points out, the multiple episodes included within the chapters of this section each form a coherent subunit, structured according to a pattern largely borrowed from Jordan of Quidlenburg’s Meditationes de Passione Christi, though similar to that used elsewhere for entire chapters: “he presents a scene (articulus), draws lessons (documenta), invites application (conformatio), and concludes with a prayer (oratio)” (28). Ludolph’s dependence on his predecessor is particularly evident in his inclusion of the latter’s prayers (transposed from the beginning to the conclusion of each segment): for example eight of the nine brief prayers in chapter 59, and nine of the eleven in chapter 67 are drawn (without attribution) from Jordan. But this flexible structure allows for Ludolph’s customary inclusion of material from a wide variety of sources and is filled with series of enumerated lists of lessons and reflections, some brief, such as the three reasons Christ chose to sweat blood (41) or the three lessons to be learned from the striking of Christ by the soldiers (78) or the four reasons for Christ’s silence before Pilate (139), others considerably more extensive, as with the six lessons found in the story of Peter’s denial of Christ (103-105) or the seven lessons taught by the death of Christ itself (281-83).

The popular meditative practice of imaginative participation in the events being described, used rather sparingly in the earlier sections of the text, is much more frequently proposed in these chapters to heighten feelings of compunction and compassion. Modeled on and often drawing directly from such sources as the (unacknowledged) De Meditatione Passionis per Septem Diei (with its horarium pattern), Eckbert’s Stimulus Amoris and Aelred of Rievaulx’ De Institutione Inclusarum (attributed, like Eckbert, to Anselm), such exhortations summon readers to watch with Christ in Gethsemane: “Reverently gaze upon him in his affliction . . . Share his sorrow from the depths of your heart” (40); to keep vigil with the prisoner: speak to him “with deep compassion . . . . devoutly kiss his venerable hands and feet . . . Sit mourning and grieving at his feet” and if possible “rest and sleep for a little while at his blessed feet” (106-107, drawn from the Septem Diei); to “Approach the cross with Mary and John and, standing close by, gaze upon the pallid countenance of Jesus” and seeing “the bitter tears of you most loving Lady . . . shed tears yourself” (251) – a passage from Aelred that reflects the recurrent Marian focus found throughout the scene on Calvary (see for example 314). Also of note are the typological elements of Christ’s sacrifice, as the blood and water that form and sanctify the Church are drawn from the side of the new Adam asleep on the cross (296-98), and the emergence of Joseph from the well and of Jonah from the whale foreshadow Christ arising from the tomb (335).

Throughout there is a recurring emphasis on the Christian’s call to bear one’s own cross and die to self-love and so “conform yourself to this mystery” of Christ’s redemptive sacrifice (334). “Bearing in yourself the likeness of Christ crucified” (361), the faithful disciple moves from “The first day . . . one of affliction and penance to make satisfaction to God for all your willful sins of commission and omission,” through the “day of tranquility and grace” in which “your mind will find rest in God alone, for in him alone peace and calm are to be found,” and on to the “day of reward and glory, so that you may constantly and fervently desire to be united with him and embrace him,” a pattern experienced in the present through the process of meditation traced by these reflections and promised for the future when “you will be raised up gloriously among the elect children of God very early on the first day of the week, that is, in the everlasting life to come” (361), words with which the Passion section draws to a close.

This progression is evident as the subsequent chapters move quickly through the hidden redemptive activity of Holy Saturday to the Resurrection and the series of appearances of the risen Christ that follow. The transitional chapter 68 provides an imaginative reconstruction of the Blessed Mother’s period of waiting, a description of the preparation of ointments by Magdalene and the two other Marys that serves as a prelude to their visit to the tomb in subsequent chapters; some consideration of the computation of the actual amount of time that Christ’s body will lie in the tomb; and an extended account of Christ’s descent “ad inferos” (368) to announce the good news to the patriarchs and Old Testament saints, drawing on traditional interpretations of the brief, enigmatic reference of 1 Peter 3:19. The following chapter is devoted to the Resurrection itself, with a description of Christ’s glorified body, a pair of apostrophes to the soul to pass from sorrow to joy and to arise “from the fetid tomb of our sins” (387), which frame reflections on Easter drawn from Gregory the Great, Augustine (both “Pseudo” and authentic) and Bede. The following four chapters provide harmonized accounts of the events of early Sunday morning and the initial encounters with the risen Christ, including the non-scriptural but ancient tradition of an initial appearance to his mother, which may be “piously believed” (398) as supremely fitting and endorsed from the time of the earliest Fathers. A sort of “interlude” occurs in chapter 74, relating the experience of the guards at the tomb and their instructions to fabricate the story of the theft of the body (from Mt. 20:11-15), followed by the resumption of appearance stories, first taking into account the brief mentions of appearances to Peter in Luke 24:34 and James in 1 Corinthians 15:7 as well as the apocryphal but early mention of such an encounter with Joseph of Arimathea, then devoting individual chapters to the Emmaus story, Christ’s meeting with the apostles in the upper room on Easter night and his return a week later when Thomas was present, the meeting with the seven disciples at the Sea of Tiberias followed by the dialogue conferring pastoral responsibility on Peter, and the great commission of the eleven apostles, which Ludolph suggests may also have been the occasion when Christ revealed himself to the five hundred disciples mentioned in 1 Corinthians 15:6. This segment is concluded with the “Epilogue on the Appearances of the Lord after His Resurrection” in chapter 81, with its closing prayer “that I may be counted among those witnesses chosen by God to testify to your resurrection, not only by my words, but above all in deed and in truth” (545).

Despite the change in focus and in tone, there is considerable continuity in this bloc of material with what has preceded it. Though the exhortations to imaginative participation are less frequent than in the Passion section, they are still present at key points. As Peter and John run to the tomb, the audience is encouraged to “Run after them – or better, keep up with them – and with them you will deserve to be comforted” (415); When the three Marys encounter the risen Lord, “Anselm [i.e. Aelred] urges us, ‘Stay here as long as you can. Do not let sleep interrupt your delights, or external distractions disrupt them’” (439). Even in the descent of Christ into limbo, as the righteous patriarchs raise their voices in praise, the narrator had directed the reader to “Mingle your voice with theirs, adding to their melodious jubilation with a loud voice” (373). Ludolph’s penchant for enumerated lists of lessons and meanings is on prominent display throughout this section, for example the seven reasons why Christ appeared first to Peter among the apostles (452-53), the three extended considerations of Christ’s kindness and goodness toward the disciples on the road to Emmaus (462-64), the significance of the five acts of Christ in the upper room on Easter night (488), the nine reasons why the glorified body of Christ continues to show the scars of the Passion (497-99). Particularly noteworthy are the multiple allegorical applications of the three Marys who visit the tomb on Easter morning, said to represent the three stages of spiritual development, the penitent, proficient and perfect. The three women are further identified with the mind, tongue and hands of the just, each with its own particular ointments, culminating in the seven corporal works of mercy. The proliferation of these details expresses the sense of vitality that bursts forth with the resurrection, and as with all Ludolph’s reflections, the purpose is not just to provide information but to inspire transformation: “In whatever condition you find yourself, imitate these women: go in search of Jesus and anoint him by fervently embracing a life of penance, courageously resisting temptation, and peacefully living with your neighbor” (395).

The eight remaining chapters highlight three additional feasts: the Ascension (c. 82), the completion of the “earthly pilgrimage” (546) of Jesus (with its two additional resurrection appearances) and his elevation to the right hand of the Father; Pentecost (c. 84), the completion of the Paschal period and inauguration of the era of the Church under the direction of the Holy Spirit; and the Assumption (c. 86), the culmination of the Marian strand of the story which has been particularly important in the material included in this volume. Unexpectedly, Ludoph inserts two non-narrative chapters into this sequence: the first (c. 83) focuses on the four gospels, each with its own particular focus and purpose, and on the Apostles Creed as the profession of faith in the salvific meaning of many of these events. The structure of the creed is presented both as arranged in twelve articles corresponding to the twelve apostles, each of whom according to early tradition contributed one of the articles (see 587-88), and as containing in terms of doctrines fourteen articles, seven pertaining to Christ’s divinity and seven to his humanity (583-87). Those who have followed Ludolph through all (or even part) of what has preceded will not be surprised that this 12 plus 2 pattern matches that of the resurrection appearances as enumerated in the previous chapter (nor that the 40-day period between Easter and Pentecost corresponds according to Ludolph to the product of the ten Old Testament commandments and the four Gospels of the New, in which “these commandments found their fulfillment” [546]). The second inserted chapter (c. 85) is strikingly different, consisting mainly of three lengthy passages of praise of the glorified Christ, the first and third drawn from “Anselm” (actually his disciple Elmer of Canterbury and Eckbert) and the second from Henry Suso’s Horologium Sapientiae. This material complements the praise of the cross found in the final chapter (67) of the Passion section. The return of Christ for the final judgment and the alternative destinies of hell and heaven are of course the appropriate climactic scene in this narrative of human and cosmic salvation, and these two penultimate chapters (87-88) form a kind of inclusion with the opening chapters of Part I on the eternal generation of the Son and the creation of the world.

The last chapter, “The Conclusion and Sealing of This Book” (700-12), referring to what has preceded as “a seedbed of meditations from which the fruit of the most abundant divine love may sprout and grow,” reinforces this final encouragement to “take reverently and joyfully the things said here” and not to “neglect to dwell on them with all care and devotion” (700). Following passages from “Anselm” (again written by others) and Bernard (a genuine quotation from his fifteenth sermon on the Song of Songs, followed by the complete hymn “Iesu dulcis memoria” traditionally attributed to Bernard), the text concludes with the last of Ludolph’s prayers, asking that Christ’s self-sacrifice might be offered as thanksgiving and reparation, a source of conversion for the penitent, of refreshment for those undergoing purification, of “help for every need of body and soul” (712). Of particular interest here is Ludolph’s statement that this compendium of discursive meditations “is not only sweet nourishment in itself, but . . . also sends one to higher food,” becoming a ladder for those “who ascend to higher contemplation” (701), who advance from encountering Christ in the flesh to “behold him in the spirit” (701). It is a reminder that he is writing in a century renowned for its largely vernacular mystical writers (particularly in England and the Rhineland) and that this far from wordless treatise is not simply an alternative to a contemplative silence transcending thoughts and images and concepts, but at least potentially a preparation for an encounter with God beyond language, made possible only through participation in the paschal mystery, dying, rising and ascending with Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit given on Calvary, at Easter and at Pentecost. (A comparison of Ludolph with his younger contemporary Julian of Norwich would make for a particularly interesting exploration of these contrasting yet complementary approaches to the mystery of Christ.)

Summarizing and integrating a millennium of reflections on the story of Christ, occupying an important place in the rich, complex spiritual milieu of its own late medieval period, continuing to exercise a significant, if largely indirect, influence, chiefly through the Ignatian tradition, on future centuries, the Vita Christi is clearly a pivotal text in the history of Christian spirituality. With the completion of this monumental translation, both its historical significance and – taking into account the development of both doctrine and discipline since its first appearance – its ongoing value can be more readily recognized and appreciated. Milton T. Walsh has certainly earned the gratitude of both scholars and practitioners and has merited a “Sabbath” of well-deserved rest after “tantos labores.”