Bridal Mysticism Is Inherently Queer

Thy kiss is bliss beyond compare, a kiss for evermore; O, that Thy visits were less rare, And not so quickly o’er!

-Line from St. Bernard of Clairvaux’s Latin poem “Jesu dulcis memoria” translated by Edward Caswall

“Christ the Bridegroom” by Robert Lentz

Last month, I interviewed W. Tyler Allen, creator and host of the acclaimed podcast Saint Anthony’s Tongue. During our conversation, I learned that in a newly published book, Allen focuses on bridal mysticism, also called nuptial theology, a Catholic religious tradition that views the human soul as a bride and God, or Jesus, as the bridegroom. 

“What we consider the prophecy of the bridegroom is one of the main ways that Scripture is given to us in the Old Testament,” Allen explained to me. “They weren’t just expecting a Savior. God told them to expect a bridegroom, and they saw all of this marriage symbolism throughout.”

In fact, he continued, “The first name that Jesus gives Himself in the New Testament, it’s not teacher, it’s not rabbi, it’s not master, it’s bridegroom.” 

Because bridal mysticism emphasizes that we are all brides, are all part of the Church (the original bride of Christ), we all have an intimate relationship with Jesus, with God. For those of us who identify as men, this is an inherently queer relationship, or at least one that defies strict heterosexual norms. As a result, this type of relationship also reflects and speaks to our own queer relationships. The best examples of this include early male Church leaders, who dug deeper into their union with Jesus using terminology of romantic or intimate relationships.  

Inspired by the Song of Songs in the Old Testament, bridal mysticism was largely popularized by early Church leaders like St. Bernard of Clairvaux. St. Bernard is an excellent example of how bridal mysticism does not just apply to women (especially consecrated women such as St. Teresa of Avila and St. Gertrude the Great). Men also enter a mystical marriage with God, even though some shift this relationship to be connected to a pointed female Holy Spirit or Wisdom. Similarly, St. Bernard argued in his writings that the human soul becomes feminine uniting with a masculine God, but throughout his life, Bernard remains explicitly masculine, including in his mystical encounter where a crucified Christ reached down to a praying Bernard and kissed him. 

St. Bernard’s Latin devotional poem titled Jesu dulcis memoria (The Sweet Memory of Jesus) explores his own imaginings of marital bliss with the incarnate savior. While exhortations to God’s beauty and love are not rare in the Church, St. Bernard’s poem evokes the tender words to a lover or a spouse. 

As St. Bernard writes in his poem (translated by Edward Caswall):

“Now have I gained my long desire, 

Now what I sought is mine; 

Now is my heart, O Christ, on fire 

With Thy pure love divine! … 

O joy! O ecstasy of bliss, 

More felt than understood! 

What pleasure can compare with this, 

To love the Son of God?”

“Christ Embraces St. Bernard” by Francesc Ribalta.

Bernard’s poem is at the focus of Carolyn Diskant Muir’s 2014 book Saintly Brides and Bridegrooms: The Mystical Marriage in Northern Renaissance Art, in which she explores numerous paintings featuring intimacy between male saints and Christ. As Kevin Elphick writes in his review of the text, “With more than half of the saints Muir introduces being male, one cannot help but some away from her book with the impression that the Renaissance church was much more comfortable with the concept of same-sex marriages, albeit ‘mystical’ marriages at that.”

As Elphick continues, “The Renaissance church appears to have no problem with male-male mystical marriage as an idealized model for conjugal bliss.”

Even though Muir includes Renaissance art featuring John the Beloved’s relationship with Jesus, Elphick argues that she forgets another vital example: St. Francis of Assisi’s mystical marriage with Jesus. As 14th century Franciscan Ubertino da Casale writes, St. Francis’s stigmata represents a marriage covenant with Christ, describing Francis’s bleeding wounds as “five of the freshed roses which adorn his nuptial bed” and describes Francis as “in soul and body … beloved spouse to Him.” This pointedly erotic imagery represents how sexuality has long been at the center of mystical encounters with Jesus, epitomized by St. Teresa of Avila’s ecstatic visions. 

These writers showcase how bridal mysticism inherently queers our relationship with God.

When male Church saints and leaders write about a mystical union with Christ and/or God, their lived experiences reflect and consecrate those of gay, bisexual, and queer men who see their love made in the image of God’s own love for the faithful. Because God transcends human constructs, including a gender binary, this idea doesn’t just apply to gay men but to any relationship. For LGBTQ+ people, God’s love is inherently queer and reflects the love that all people have for one another–platonic, romantic, or sexual. 

Even though Christ as bridegroom and Church as bride is rooted in a heterosexual union, the ways in which people of all genders and identities exist within that bride role, a role that has been framed as feminine, reveals that Christ’s own relationship with us mirrors the relationships we have with one another. 

As the Church continues to deny LGBTQ+ people the sacrament of marriage, bridal mysticism showcases that queer marriage already exists in our relationships with God. Our love for one another is made in the image of Jesus’s love, God’s love, for the Church. Neither our faith nor the Church and its theological teachings need to get bigger to include and recognize same-sex marriage. It has been there all along. 

—Emma Cieslik, September 24, 2026