For everything earthly is uncertain and perishable. Our homeland is in heaven, and we are not afraid of falling or being thrown down. The rock, with its durability and security, is in heaven. “The rock is a refuge for the hedgehog.” And really where is there safe sure rest for the weak except in the Savior’s wounds? There the security of my dwelling depends on the greatness of his saving power. The world rages, the body oppresses, the devil lays his snares: I do not fall because I am founded on a rock. I have sinned gravely, my conscience is disturbed but not confounded, because I shall remember the wounds of the Lord. For ‘he was wounded for our transgressions.’ What sin is so deadly as not to be forgiven in the death of Christ? If therefore a medicine so powerful and efficacious finds entrance to my mind, no disease, however virulent, can frighten me.
Bernard of Clairvaux, On the Song of Songs III, Sermon 61, II. That the wise man’s home is in this rock, which is a very safe dwelling. v 3 (CF 31, p 142f)