We find it in our neighbour when we suffer in sympathy with others.
We search out its own nature by contemplation in purity of heart.
[...] Before we inquire into the nature of truth, Truth itself must first teach us to seek it in our neighbour.
Then we shall understand why, before we find it in our neighbour, we must seek it in ourselves.
The sequence of beatitudes given in the Sermon on the Mount places the merciful before the pure in heart.
The merciful are those who are quick to see truth in their neighbour.
They reach out to others in compassion and identify with them in love, responding to the joys and sorrows in the lives of others as if they were their own.
They make themselves weak with the weak, and burn with indignation when others are led astray.
They are always ready to share the joys of those who rejoice and the sorrows of those who mourn.
Men whose inner vision has thus been cleansed by the exercise of charity toward their neighbour can delight in the contemplation of truth in itself.
[...] But can people find the truth in their neighbour if…they either scoff at their tears or disparage their joys, being insensitive to all feelings but their own?
There is a popular saying which well suits them: A healthy person cannot feel the pains of sickness, nor can one who is well-fed feel the pangs of hunger.
The more familiar we are with sickness or hunger, the greater will be our compassion for others who are sick or hungry.
Just as pure truth can only be seen by the pure in heart, so the sufferings of our fellow men and women are more truly felt by hearts that know suffering themselves.
However, we cannot sympathize with the wretchedness of others until we first recognize our own.
Then we shall understand the feelings of others by what we personally feel, and know how to come to their help.
Such was the example shown by our Saviour, who desired to suffer himself in order that he might learn to feel compassion, and to be afflicted in order that he might learn how to show mercy.
Scripture says of him that he learned the meaning of obedience through what he suffered. In the same way he learned the meaning of mercy.
Not that the Lord whose mercy is from age to age was ignorant of mercy’s meaning until then.
He knew its nature from all eternity, but he learned it by personal experience during his days on earth.
Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153): Degrees of Humility and Pride 3.6, from the Monastic Office of Vigils, Sunday of the Third Week of Lent, Year 2.