About the Work
Ordo Virtutum is a liturgical drama composed by Hildegard of Bingen, a twelfth-century Benedictine abbess, mystic, and visionary. The work is structured as a musical morality play depicting the struggle of the human soul against the Devil and the supporting role of the Virtues in guiding the soul toward salvation. The text is accompanied by extensive editorial commentary that situates the drama within Hildegard’s larger theological corpus, particularly her visionary works Scivias, Liber Vitae Meritorum, and Liber Divinorum Operum. The drama itself features personified Virtues—including Humility, Love, Fear of God, Obedience, Faith, Hope, Chastity, Innocence, Contempt of the World, Love of the Heavenly, Discretion, Patience, Mercy, Victory, and others—who engage in dialogue, song, and confrontation with the Devil. The work culminates in an epilogue that is drawn verbatim from Hildegard’s Liber Divinorum Operum, a prayer of the Son of God to the Father on behalf of the struggling Church. The edition under consideration is presented in seven parts, with the notes covering the second, third, fifth, and sixth parts, indicating a scholarly apparatus that includes theological analysis, allegorical interpretation, and textual criticism.
Context
The Ordo Virtutum emerges from the rich visionary and theological milieu of twelfth-century Rhineland monasticism. Hildegard of Bingen, who lived from 1098 to 1179, was renowned for her prophetic visions, which she recorded in works such as Scivias (Know the Ways), Liber Vitae Meritorum (Book of the Merits of Life), and Liber Divinorum Operum (Book of Divine Works). The drama is intimately connected to these visionary texts, sharing their symbolic vocabulary, theological concerns, and allegorical method. The editorial commentary notes that the epilogue of the Ordo Virtutum appears verbatim in the Liber Divinorum Operum (Part III, X 8, Migne P.L. 197, 1005 D), with the addition of one word, “Zempus,” between hoc and scio, and the interjection “et istud vir proeliator vidit et dixit” identifying the speaker. This connection demonstrates that the drama was not an isolated composition but part of a coherent visionary theology that Hildegard developed across multiple works.
The drama reflects the liturgical and monastic culture of Hildegard’s community at the Rupertsberg, where it was likely performed by the nuns. The musical notation and dramatic structure suggest a ritual context, with the Virtues singing antiphonally and the Devil speaking or shouting rather than singing. The theological framework of the drama is deeply rooted in the patristic and monastic tradition, drawing on biblical imagery, the Church Fathers, and the allegorical interpretation of Scripture. The editorial commentary frequently cites biblical passages—Isaiah 42:13, Romans 8:34, Luke 1:78, Luke 24:25, and Isaiah 11:1—indicating the scriptural foundation of Hildegard’s thought. The drama also engages with contemporary theological debates about the nature of virtue, the fall of humanity, the work of redemption, and the eschatological struggle between the Church and the forces of evil, particularly the Antichrist.
Structure of the Book
The Ordo Virtutum is structured as a dramatic sequence with distinct scenes and movements, though the exact division of scenes is not fully preserved in the notes. The drama opens with the Soul’s defiance of God and her departure with the Devil, followed by the lamentation of the Virtues and the Devil’s taunts. The Virtues then process and introduce themselves one by one, each declaring her nature and function. The Devil interrupts with mockery and challenges, and the Virtues respond with faith and confidence. The drama culminates in the epilogue, a prayer of the Son of God to the Father, which is drawn from the Liber Divinorum Operum.
The editorial apparatus surrounding the drama is extensive and includes several layers of commentary. The notes reveal that the edition is divided into seven parts, with the second part focusing on the Liber Vitae Meritorum and the cosmic battle between God and the Devil, the third part providing allegorical explanations of the Virtues, the fifth part offering analytical commentary on the order and significance of the Virtues, and the sixth part covering the opening scenes of the drama itself. The commentary draws connections between the Ordo Virtutum and Hildegard’s visionary works, particularly Scivias, where many of the same Virtues appear in symbolic visions of buildings, towers, and pillars. The editor also engages in textual criticism, noting, for example, that the name of the virtue Disciplina is erased in the codex and that Pitra supplements castitas (chastity), though the editor argues for disciplina based on the parallel virtue groups in Scivias and Liber Vitae Meritorum.
The structure of the drama itself follows a pattern of presentation, confrontation, and resolution. The Virtues are introduced in groups, each group associated with a particular stage of salvation history or a particular aspect of the spiritual life. The first group, appearing after the Soul’s departure with the Devil, consists of eight virtues who are described as “strong workers of God” building the “pillar of the humanity of the Redeemer.” The second group, drawn from the “tower of preparation,” includes Love of the Heavenly, Discipline, Modesty, Mercy, and Victory, representing the preparatory work of God in the Old Covenant. Patience and Longing stand outside the Tower but inside the Building, representing the fruit of circumcision and the Law. The drama thus moves from the individual soul’s struggle to the broader cosmic and historical context of the Church’s battle against evil.
Detailed Section-by-Section Summary
The notes begin with the second part of the edition, which opens by describing how, in the Liber Vitae Meritorum, Hildegard depicts God as the “manly warrior” who, following Isaiah 42:13, defeated the devil in heaven through Michael. When Satan then made humans the target of his malice, “the incarnate Word” seized “the banner of this struggle,” and this battle will continue “until the number of the brothers, i.e., the elect, will be full” (I 22). This cosmic battle provides the backdrop for the entire drama, establishing the stakes of the soul’s struggle and the role of Christ as the warrior who fights on behalf of humanity.
Christ has seated himself at the Father’s right hand to intercede for us (Romans 8:34). His prayer in heaven and his grace working in souls on earth are the two weapons of this battle. The first echoes in mysterious language in the drama’s epilogue; the second is embodied, personified, in the virtues. This dual weaponry—heavenly intercession and earthly grace—structures the drama’s theology, with the Virtues serving as the visible manifestation of Christ’s grace working in human souls.
The epilogue of the drama appears verbatim in the Liber Divinorum Operum (Part III, X 8, Migne P.L. 197, 1005 D), with the addition of one word “Zempus” between hoc and scio. Except for the interjection “et istud vir proeliator vidit et dixit” identifying the speaker, it is a prayer of the Son of God to his Father. First presented connectedly, it repeats in subsequent extensive descriptions with individual sentences separated and elaborated, finding explanation in their contexts. This connection between the drama and the visionary work demonstrates that the epilogue is not merely a dramatic device but a theological statement drawn from Hildegard’s deepest mystical insights.
The connection between the drama and Hildegard’s visionary theology is further elaborated through her mystical history of the human race, which traces humanity’s supernatural relations to God in ascending and descending movement across three great periods. After humanity sank to its lowest moral state before the Flood (first period), it strove upward through the believing Messiah-longing of the patriarchs and chosen people to sanctifying union with God, granted in fullest abundance through the Son’s incarnation and the Spirit’s mysterious work in the Church (second period). But the whole cannot maintain this height due to hell’s assaults and human lukewarmness. The Church suffers exhaustion in many members and must struggle through to inner completion (third period).
These periods are indicated by three sentences: In principio omnes creaturae viruerunt (“All creatures greened”), In medio flores floruerunt (“In the middle, flowers bloomed”), Postea viriditas descendit (“Then verdure descended”). The first denotes the time of overflowing life-force when earth and humanity unfolded natural capacities—but humanity turned generative power increasingly toward the earthly and sensual, making it merely a time of lush natural life. After the Flood, in the middle period, “flowers bloomed in new fashion, from fresh sap and with every germinating power”—human knowledge grew in wisdom the Holy Spirit kindled; through him the Word took flesh from the Virgin’s womb; he came in fiery tongues upon the Son’s disciples, working wonders through them. Then comes the final time of tribulation: the Church planted by apostles suffers; these struggles produce in weak members exhaustion of faith and love. Postea viriditas descendit: “All discipline planted since apostolic times through the Holy Spirit’s grace was lost in the darkness of the nets with which the old serpent ensnared the world.”
Now the Son steps before the Father, suffering in his mystical body all pains and fatigue itself. He shows his wounds, begging in tender mercy for strengthening of “his little ones who grow weak.” Whenever the almighty Father is provoked to wrath by evil works, the Son shows his wounds so the Father spares humanity; he did not spare his own body to reclaim the stolen sheep through his blood. His wounds will remain open as long as anyone sins. He reminds the Father of his eternal plan—not to avert his gracious gaze “until he saw his Son’s body full of precious stones.” The golden number of the elect is not yet full; God’s counsel is not yet realized. The Father should grant strength to the struggling so the Son may be completed in his members.
This prayer of the exalted Son of Man for his struggling Church occurs not in earthly words. He who is the Word needs no physical sound before the Father; in divine silence he holds converse. The prayer “silences more than it speaks, veils more than it reveals”—the words are short, almost broken, unfathomably deep, as if the holy seer had overheard the divine heart’s beats and love’s sighs. Through this prayer we see the royal Bride of Christ suffering, fighting, triumphing over the devil and the son of perdition, the Antichrist—and recognize the source of her courage: the mystery of her strength. The prayer’s words, repeating like ejaculations throughout the description, reveal who is the soul and life of the holy Church. As struggle intensifies, the heart beats louder, faster; the pleading words accumulate, become clearer, more urgent, audible even to us who are “slow of heart to believe” (Luke 24:25).
By lifting this prayer from its context to serve as the drama’s epilogue, Hildegard intended the vision of the individual soul’s struggle to expand into an illuminating view of the God-man’s hidden life in his holy Church, his mystical body. The struggling and victorious soul is characterized as a type of the “little ones who grow weak,” as a member of Christ—ultimately an image of the Church herself.
The third part of the edition provides editorial and analytical commentary on the allegorical meanings of the Virtues. The fourth virtue, Mercy (“Barmherzigkeit”), is described as one who has gained self-mastery through discipline and modesty and turns to the needy neighbor in rich compassion. Mercy is veiled in womanly fashion as the fruitful mother of souls returning from sin; her veil is white, making souls white and luminous. She symbolizes the purest Mother in whose virginal womb divine mercy (hidden in the Father’s heart) was revealed to humanity through the Holy Spirit. On her breast she bears the image of the Only-Begotten with the inscription: “Through our God’s heartfelt mercy, with which the Dawn from on high visited us” (per viscera misericordiae Dei nostri, Luke 1:78). Her mantle is gold-colored, clothed in the radiant splendor of the sun descending from heaven’s height. Mercy speaks: “To all homeless and needy, all poor and weak, all sighing in misery, I always reach out my hand.” Yet we are still in the “Tower of Preparation”—expectation of the Old Covenant; the eternal sun of mercy has not yet risen, so Mercy longs for the “Column of the Word of God.”
The fifth virtue, Victory (“Sieg”), looks southward where the unfinished “Tower of the Church” is built in the noonday heat of the Holy Spirit, or encouragingly toward people in the “Building.” She appears in female form, armored head to foot: helmet of longing for God, breastplate of self-discipline, greaves showing she walks not death’s paths, arm-guards showing she flees the devil’s works through spiritual circumcision and sincere faith. Her shield is observance of divine commandments; her sword is God’s Word. A lion rears beneath her feet; she thrusts her lance into its open jaws and tramples its followers—human-like heads bearing signs of sensual pleasures. She says: “I conquer the strong devil and you, hatred, envy, discord, and all deceptions of deceitful illusion.”
These five virtues—Love of the Heavenly, Discipline, Modesty, Mercy, and Victory—complete the mystery of the “Tower of Preparation,” which represents the first revelation of divine justice and mercy in the covenant with Abraham sealed by circumcision. The virtues show God’s preparatory work in souls: love of heavenly things turns the gaze from earth; discipline and modesty prepare the Redeemer’s way by killing sin; mercy models his gracious condescension; victory overcomes hell’s attacks through the Son of God’s anticipatory power.
Two additional virtues, Patience and Longing, stand outside the Tower but inside the Building, representing the fruit of circumcision and the Law. Patience, tested in obedience, produces deep longing for true life that drew the Only-Begotten from the Father’s bosom. She stands under an “arch” with grinning devil-faces (earthly powers opposing justice). Her head is veiled as women wear veils—as man is head of woman in marriage, so must man be subject to God. A three-pronged red-glowing crown signifies the future Church’s martyrs sharing the Bridegroom’s death-suffering. Her tunic glows snowy white with green shadows. She speaks: “I conquer in the Dawn with the strong Son of God, who went out from the Father, came into this world for humanity’s redemption, and returned to the Father. Under greatest pains he died on the cross. But he rose from the dead and ascended to heaven. Therefore I will not take shame upon myself by fleeing the hardships and pains of this world.”
The “Column of the Word of God” reveals the mystery of both natures in Christ. It stands near the end of the “luminous wall,” one ell from the Building’s northeast corner. Its appearance is terrible in majesty; steel-gray, of immense size, its tip reaches into the inaccessible light of the Trinity. A dove pours golden fiery power over it (the Holy Spirit effecting the Virgin birth). It has three edges: the first faces east, sprouting branches like a tree—the lowest bears Abraham, the second Moses, the third Joshua, then other patriarchs and prophets, all gazing in wonder at the north edge where bright light flows to the south edge, where apostles, martyrs, confessors, virgins, and other New Covenant saints walk. The patriarchs see in them the Gospel’s fullness of grace foreshadowed.
Scientia Dei (Knowledge of God) appears as a terrifying voice from heaven crying: “What you see is divine.” The seer trembles and sees a tall figure at the Column’s foot, surrounded by angelic beings in reverent fear and love, with gloomy human-like beings in distress before her. She admonishes: “Consider the garment you have put on, and forget not your Creator who made you!” Scientia Dei knows all in heaven and earth, foreseeing whether each person will come into living contact with the Father’s Word. Those who stifle knowledge in earthly lust are “a herd of driven sheep” before her; God offers return through just chastisements of mercy—acceptance leads to life, rejection to death.
At the northeast corner where the “luminous” northeast wall meets the “stone” northwest wall, the stone wall begins facing the region of darkness. The heavy yoke of the Law weighed on the chosen people, but awareness of redemption-need prepared hearts. The “Column of the Most Holy Trinity” stands in the west in the purple glow of God-light seemingly overcome by darkness.
The fifth part of the edition offers analytical commentary on the order and significance of the Virtues in the drama. It is certainly not without significance that St. Hildegard lets the eight virtues appear first, after the soul has gone off with the devil and the spirit of the spectator has entered the rest of thoughtful contemplation. He should become aware of what the essence and task of the virtues consists. This could not be shown more clearly than by the fact that precisely the “strong workers of God,” who under the light of “grace” with glowing zeal build the “pillar of the humanity of the Redeemer,” present themselves to him first. The virtues are radiations of grace, which has shone upon humanity in the incarnate Word, and their efficacy aims at forming the mystical body of Christ in its members. “God’s Word became light in human form. With it we shine like lightning, we who build the members of his beautiful body,” with these words the virtues in the Ordo make known their origin and their efficacy. With them they also grasp the deep meaning of the wonderful “pillar of the humanity of the Redeemer.”
The “contempt of the world,” which follows them in the Ordo, shows itself already quite close to the perfection which these eight virtues strive for. It is by its nature not a negative but a positive virtue: the “giant strength which tramples the world,” the “mistress who fights the battles of Christ.” It is the “bright splendor of life.” It therefore appears in the Scivias at the very end, after the building is completed, in the retinue of the Son of Man. It represents the perfection of unwavering devotion to the highest good.
Now St. Hildegard seemingly goes far back, almost to the beginning of the symbolic building. The five virtues come from the “tower of preparation”: the “love of heavenly things” turned entirely to the rising from on high, the “discipline” strengthened in mortification of the flesh, the “modesty” which blushing veils its face, the “mercy” which as a mild-rich mother carries the compassion of eternal love to all who need help, and finally the “victory” which accompanies the incarnate Son of God through the centuries to the final triumph of his Church. But this turning back is only apparent; for the five virtues stand in the Ordo on a completely different ground than in the Scivias and therefore appear in a new light. In the “tower of preparation” they belong to the Old Covenant. Their efficacy aims at pointing humanity to the coming Redeemer and making hearts receptive for him. They are therefore, as it were, like people in the shadow of the law of servitude and sigh with them for the freedom of grace. In the Ordo, on the other hand, they are completely flooded by the light of the redemption that has come. “God’s Word became light in human form. With it we shine like lightning.” The splendor of the sun of Bethlehem lets them blossom in unimagined beauty. It is the halo of perfection through the incarnate Son of God that lies on them here.
This contrast between the Old and New Covenant is expressed most delicately in the figure of Disciplina. In the Scivias she is drawn as the virtue that always stands in holy fear before God, “as a boy composes himself in the presence of the teacher because he fears him.” In the Ordo, on the other hand, she appears as the bride who in loving devotion constantly looks at the bridegroom and is admitted to his embrace. The author therefore believed the name of the virtue Disciplina in the Ordo should not be rendered by “Zucht” (discipline), as in the Scivias, but by “Züchtigkeit” (chastity/modesty). In essence these virtues are one. But the perfection in which the virtue appears in the Ordo characterizes it as the noblest blossom of discipline, which sprouts not under the coldness of the law but under the warm ray of grace, virginity. In the codex the name of the virtue is erased; Pitra (Analecta Sanctae Hildegardis. Monte Cassino 1882, p. 461) supplements castitas, proof of how clearly the words of the virtue characterize her as “Züchtigkeit.” Yet from the same virtue groups in the Scivias and the Liber Vitae Meritorum the author believes the name disciplina should be taken over for the Latin original of the Ordo, all the more so since otherwise castitas would appear twice in the same scene, which is unlikely.
Following Victoria, the last of the five virtues from the “tower of preparation,” comes Discretio in the Ordo. Since she, “the mother of virtues,” as she calls herself in the Scivias, unites in herself the strict justice of the Old and the merciful love of the New Covenant, she appears in the “building” at the place where the “stone wall” transitions into the “pillar of the most holy Trinity,” i.e., on the threshold of the Old and New Covenant. From her breast the light of the Holy Spirit shines into the hearts of men, so that they can shape their lives into an image of eternal wisdom. “I am the power of discernment, light and orderer of all creatures, serenity from God.” With these words she summarizes in the Ordo her qualities symbolically represented in the Scivias, and the virtues answer her: “O mother, you are exceedingly beautiful. How lovely and mild is your rule! No one who is grounded in you will ever be put to shame!”
The reflection of transfiguration through the incarnate Word also lies on the last virtue in the Ordo, “Patience.” She too stands in the Scivias on the ground of the Old Covenant, but in the Ordo she is transfigured by the light of the New.
The sixth part of the edition covers the opening scenes of the drama itself. The Soul declares that God created the world, she does Him no injustice, and she will enjoy it. She exits defiantly to the rear right. The editor notes the “spotless, light-radiant garment of faith” (from Scivias II). The Soul disdains to cooperate in perfecting this garment, and therefore is called infelix (“unhappy,” i.e., fallen). Her self-concealment characterizes guilt-consciousness, as once with Adam, but she will not admit it, defending herself in her following answer. This self-concealment also means closing herself off from the deifying light of grace, hence the following words of “knowledge of God.” True living knowledge of God in faith (you do not know Him), hope (you do not behold Him), and love (you do not taste Him) would preserve the Soul from sin. But she appeals to another God-alienating knowledge to defend her sin.
Now the Devil raises his shriek (behind the scene, footsteps, chain-rattling). He calls the Soul foolish and asks what use her efforts are. He tells her to look behind—the world lies there and will embrace her with high honors. Loud noise; chains fall with great clatter; long pause. The Virtues (II. Choir) cry that this voice sounds disaster, full of deepest pain. Already the victory had risen up in wonderful longing for God, but the lust of the flesh slumbered in him, secretly glowing. They mourn that innocence did not lose its integrity in chaste shame, yet could not devour the voracious greed of the old serpent in victory.
The Devil (rattling) asks who acts so mightily as if only One were God. He says he gives everything to whoever follows him and his will. He taunts that the Virtues have nothing to offer their faithful, and that they do not even know their own nature. Humility and her companions know he is the old dragon who wanted to fly above the Most High, but God Himself cast him into the abyss. The editor notes that cast out of heaven by Saint Michael (“Who is like God!”), the Devil on earth takes up this very “Who is like God!” as a battle-cry in devilish obstinacy, to avenge what wounded his pride most deeply.
The Virtues (Full Choir) declare they all dwell in the heights. The music begins; the II. Choir divides, and the Queen processes to her throne; the Virtues follow in pairs. In Scene Two, Humility, Queen of the Virtues, calls the Virtues to come to her and she will make them strong. They will seek the lost drachma and, if it perseveres in good fight, give it the crown of salvation. The Virtues respond joyfully. Humility promises them dwelling in the King’s bridal chamber.
Love says she is a blossom that awakens love, leading the Virtues into the shadowless light of the blossom that sprang from the shoot (editorial note: Isaiah 11:1; the Son of God is the blossom of the virginal shoot, Mary). Fear of God makes the daughters of salvation ready to look upon the living God. The Virtues praise her usefulness. The Devil (chain-rattling) mocks: “Ha! ha! not bad!” He asks what fear that works such great things is, who can name love’s nature, who is the fighter, who gives the victory wreath. He repeats: “You do not know what you honor and practice.” The editor notes that the Devil makes this reproach a second time. The Virtues do not deign to refute him, only show they see through him.
The Virtues tell him he is beside himself with terror, for pride puffed him up and the highest Judge cast him into hell. Obedience says he is full of light, will lead the daughters home to the fatherland and the King’s kiss. Faith is the “mirror of life,” showing the living spring. The Virtues call her “mirror of light.” Hope gazes joyfully into the eye of the Living One; faintheartedness never hinders her flight; darkness has no power to cloud her. Chastity addresses virgin purity, whose place is in the royal bridal chamber. Her blossom will not fall; night will never strip her petals. The editor notes that Chastity, unlike other Virtues, does not speak of herself but addresses virginity, which is so delicate it blushes to name itself.
Innocence tells the little sheep to flee the Devil’s filth. Contempt of the World is life’s bright splendor, freeing herself from the misery of pilgrimage on earth. The Virtues call her glorious lady who fights Christ’s battles. Love of the Heavenly is a golden gate fixed in heaven; whoever enters through her will never taste bitterness of dissolute joy. Discretion is the power of discernment, light and orderer of all creatures, serenity from God. Adam banished her through his dissolute manners. Patience is an unbending pillar built on God. Humility recalls that under the tree God gave life to the daughters of Israel; they should rejoice, daughters of Zion. Scene Three begins with the Devil making firm steps and loud noise, and the Virtues respond.
Main Arguments
The Ordo Virtutum presents a theological vision of the spiritual life as a cosmic battle between good and evil, with the Virtues serving as the embodiment of divine grace working in human souls. The central argument is that the soul, though fallen and tempted by the Devil, can be restored to its original glory through the cooperative action of divine grace and human virtue. The Virtues are not merely moral qualities but personified radiations of grace that have shone upon humanity in the incarnate Word, and their efficacy aims at forming the mystical body of Christ in its members.
A second major argument concerns the relationship between the Old and New Covenants. The Virtues from the “tower of preparation” belong to the Old Covenant, where their efficacy aimed at pointing humanity to the coming Redeemer and making hearts receptive for him. In the Ordo, however, they are completely flooded by the light of the redemption that has come. This contrast is expressed most delicately in the figure of Disciplina, who in the Scivias stands in holy fear before God “as a boy composes himself in the presence of the teacher because he fears him,” but in the Ordo appears as the bride who in loving devotion constantly looks at the bridegroom and is admitted to his embrace. The perfection of the virtues in the Ordo characterizes them as the noblest blossom of discipline, which sprouts not under the coldness of the law but under the warm ray of grace.
A third argument concerns the nature of Christ’s intercession for the Church. The epilogue of the drama, drawn from the Liber Divinorum Operum, presents a prayer of the Son of God to the Father on behalf of the struggling Church. This prayer occurs not in earthly words but in divine silence; it “silences more than it speaks, veils more than it reveals.” The Son shows his wounds to the Father, begging in tender mercy for strengthening of “his little ones who grow weak.” His wounds will remain open as long as anyone sins. The golden number of the elect is not yet full; God’s counsel is not yet realized. The Father should grant strength to the struggling so the Son may be completed in his members.
A fourth argument concerns the three periods of human history and the Church’s place in the final period of tribulation. Hildegard traces humanity’s supernatural relations to God across three great periods: the time before the Flood when humanity sank to its lowest moral state, the middle period of the patriarchs and the incarnation when flowers bloomed, and the final time of tribulation when the Church suffers exhaustion in many members and must struggle through to inner completion. The drama is situated in this third period, where the Church must struggle against hell’s assaults and human lukewarmness.
Key Concepts
The concept of viriditas (greening, verdure, life-force) is central to Hildegard’s theology and appears in the three mysterious opening sentences of the epilogue: In principio omnes creaturae viruerunt (“All creatures greened”), In medio flores floruerunt (“In the middle, flowers bloomed”), Postea viriditas descendit (“Then verdure descended”). This concept denotes the overflowing life-force of creation, the generative power that unfolds natural capacities, and the spiritual vitality that comes from God. The descent of verdure in the final period signifies the loss of discipline planted since apostolic times through the Holy Spirit’s grace, lost in the darkness of the nets with which the old serpent ensnared the world.
The “Tower of Preparation” represents the first revelation of divine justice and mercy in the covenant with Abraham sealed by circumcision. It is the place of expectation of the Old Covenant, where the virtues show God’s preparatory work in souls: love of heavenly things turns the gaze from earth; discipline and modesty prepare the Redeemer’s way by killing sin; mercy models his gracious condescension; victory overcomes hell’s attacks through the Son of God’s anticipatory power.
The “Column of the Word of God” reveals the mystery of both natures in Christ. It stands near the end of the “luminous wall,” its tip reaching into the inaccessible light of the Trinity. A dove pours golden fiery power over it, signifying the Holy Spirit effecting the Virgin birth. Its three edges represent the patriarchs and prophets of the Old Covenant and the apostles, martyrs, confessors, virgins, and other New Covenant saints who walk in the Gospel’s fullness of grace.
The “Building” is the symbolic structure within which the drama unfolds, encompassing the Tower of Preparation, the Column of the Word of God, the stone wall, and the luminous wall. The stone wall represents the heavy yoke of the Law that weighed on the chosen people, while the luminous wall represents the light of grace. The “Column of the Most Holy Trinity” stands in the west in the purple glow of God-light seemingly overcome by darkness.
Scientia Dei (Knowledge of God) is a terrifying figure who admonishes the seer: “Consider the garment you have put on, and forget not your Creator who made you!” She knows all in heaven and earth, foreseeing whether each person will come into living contact with the Father’s Word. Those who stifle knowledge in earthly lust are “a herd of driven sheep” before her; God offers return through just chastisements of mercy—acceptance leads to life, rejection to death.
The “garment of faith” is the “spotless, light-radiant garment” from Scivias II that the Soul disdains to cooperate in perfecting. The Soul’s self-concealment characterizes guilt-consciousness, as once with Adam, and means closing herself off from the deifying light of grace. True living knowledge of God in faith, hope, and love would preserve the Soul from sin.
The “lost drachma” is the image Humility uses for the fallen soul, which the Virtues seek and, if it perseveres in good fight, give the crown of salvation. The “King’s bridal chamber” is the dwelling promised to the Virtues, the place of union with the divine Bridegroom.
Themes
The theme of spiritual warfare pervades the Ordo Virtutum. The drama depicts the cosmic battle between God and the Devil, initiated by the Devil’s rebellion in heaven and continued on earth through his assault on humanity. God is depicted as the “manly warrior” who defeated the devil in heaven through Michael, and the incarnate Word seized “the banner of this struggle” when Satan made humans the target of his malice. This battle will continue “until the number of the brothers, i.e., the elect, will be full.” The Virtues are the “strong workers of God” who build the “pillar of the humanity of the Redeemer,” and Victory is the virtue who “conquers the strong devil” and tramples hatred, envy, discord, and all deceptions of deceitful illusion.
The theme of the mystical body of Christ is central to the drama’s theology. The Virtues’ efficacy aims at forming the mystical body of Christ in its members. “God’s Word became light in human form. With it we shine like lightning, we who build the members of his beautiful body.” The Son suffers in his mystical body all pains and fatigue itself, showing his wounds to the Father so that he spares humanity. The golden number of the elect is not yet full; the Son must be completed in his members. The struggling and victorious soul is characterized as a type of the “little ones who grow weak,” as a member of Christ—ultimately an image of the Church.
The theme of the Old and New Covenants is expressed through the contrast between the Tower of Preparation and the Building, the stone wall and the luminous wall, the law of servitude and the freedom of grace. The five virtues from the Tower of Preparation belong to the Old Covenant, where their efficacy aimed at pointing humanity to the coming Redeemer. In the Ordo, they are completely flooded by the light of the redemption that has come. The contrast is expressed most delicately in Disciplina, who in the Scivias stands in holy fear before God as a boy before his teacher, but in the Ordo appears as the bride who in loving devotion constantly looks at the bridegroom and is admitted to his embrace.
The theme of virginity and chastity is prominent, particularly in the figure of Chastity, who addresses virgin purity “whose place is in the royal bridal chamber.” Her blossom will not fall; night will never strip her petals. The editor notes that Chastity, unlike other Virtues, does not speak of herself but addresses virginity, which is so delicate it blushes to name itself. The perfection of Disciplina in the Ordo is characterized as the noblest blossom of discipline, which sprouts not under the coldness of the law but under the warm ray of grace—virginity.
The theme of the Church’s struggle in the end times is developed through the three periods of human history and the final time of tribulation. The Church planted by apostles suffers; these struggles produce in weak members exhaustion of faith and love. The Son steps before the Father, suffering in his mystical body all pains and fatigue itself, begging for strengthening of “his little ones who grow weak.” Through the epilogue, we see the royal Bride of Christ suffering, fighting, triumphing over the devil and the son of perdition, the Antichrist—and recognize the source of her courage: the mystery of her strength.
The theme of knowledge and ignorance is explored through the figure of Scientia Dei and the Devil’s repeated taunt: “You do not know what you honor and practice.”
