nor and adoration, which is with the Father who is without beginning, and with His all-holy and good and life-giving Spirit, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.
NICOLAUS CABASILAS
ON THE LIFE IN CHRIST
SEVEN BOOKS.
NICOLAI CABASILAE
DE VITA IN CHRISTO
Seven Books
From the Preface to the Reader of Jacobus Pontanus of the Society of Jesus, in Philippus Solitarius’s Dioptra (a).
There existed also in the Bavarian Library a work by Nicolaus Cabasilas, Περὶ τῆς ἐν Χριστῷ ζωῆς (*De vita in Christo*), a work indeed learned and pious, and wondrously suited for inflaming minds with the love of God, which it pleased us to append to the *Dioptra* on account of the convenience of the subject matter, and we hope it will be perused with equal fruit. We wished to render the title thus: *On the Christian Life*. But since he does not fashion the Christian life so much by precepts as he shows how it is hidden with Christ in God, and this chiefly by the power and virtue of the three sacraments, Baptism, Unction or Confirmation, and the Eucharist, it was more truthful to inscribe it simply *On the Life in Christ*, according to the Greek words, that is to say. Cabasilas was an illustrious man, of whom honorable mention is made in our history of Joannes Cantacuzenus, book III, chapters 73 and 99, where he is named curator or Prefect of the Sacellum, who by Curopalates in the book *On the Officials of the Palace of Constantinople and the Offices of the Great Church* is thus described: (ὁ σακελλίου, subaudi ἄρχων) κρατῶν τὰς καθολικὰς Ἐκκλησίας, καὶ τὸ σακέλλιον, whose power is over the Catholic Churches and the affairs of the sacella, that is, over matters pertaining to sacred buildings and chapels. His oration against usurers followed in the same Bavarian codex, much more emended indeed and longer than that which was published at Augsburg in previous years. If those who kill men by usury read this (for so Cato the Censor, when asked what usury was, replied: "What is it to kill a man?"), they will have nothing more to offer as a pretext for their nefarious wickedness. For it meets and refutes all their arguments.
(a) See vol. CXXVII.
INDEX OF BOOKS
Book I. That life in Christ is constituted by the mysteries of divine Baptism, the sacred Anointing, and the Communion. Book II. What fruit of utility divine Baptism procures for it. Book III. What utility the sacred ointment, or Chrism, confers upon it. Book IV. What benefit the most sacred Communion produces for it. Book V. That an altar is also necessary for the completion of the sacred and divine mysteries. Book VI. In what manner one ought to preserve that which he has received from the mysteries or Sacraments. Book VII. What kind of person becomes the initiate who has studiously guarded the grace of the mysteries.
NICHOLAS CABASILAS ON THE LIFE IN CHRIST. BOOK ONE.
That life in Christ is constituted by the mysteries of divine Baptism, the sacred Anointing, and the Communion.
NICOLAI CABASILAE ON THE LIFE IN CHRIST. BOOK ONE.
That life in Christ is constituted by the mysteries of divine Baptism, the sacred Anointing, and the Communion.
B The life that we lead in Christ is born in this age, and takes its beginnings from here; but it is perfected and completed in the future, when we shall have arrived at that last day. And neither can this present age fully introduce and implant this kind of life—of which we speak—into the souls of men, nor can the future age, unless it has taken its beginning from here. For now, indeed, the flesh casts a shadow, and the mist and corruption that arise from it cannot inherit incorruption. Whence Paul thought it to be very much to his advantage to be released from these bonds and to be with Christ. "Having the desire," he says, "to depart and be with Christ, for it is much better." [Philippians 1:23] But the life to come, to those whom...
have received it but are deprived of the faculties and senses necessary for it, will bring no blessedness; but in that happy and immortal world, they themselves will be dead and miserable. A For light indeed rises, and the sun sends forth pure rays, but the eye is not then formed; and the fragrance of a scent is poured out abundantly and fills all things, but one who does not have the sense of smell will not receive it from there. Thus, it will be permitted to the friends of the Son of God to commune with Him in the mysteries on that day, and to learn from Him what He heard from His Father; but it is necessary that they arrive as His friends and already possessing ears. For it is not possible there to first establish friendship, and only then to open one’s ears, to prepare the wedding garment, and to assemble the other things which that Bridegroom requires; but the workshop for all these things is this life we are living here. For those to whom these things have not been provided before they depart, there will be nothing in common with that life. The five foolish virgins and the one invited to the wedding are witnesses to this, for since they came unprepared, neither could they acquire oil, nor could he obtain a garment.
B Altogether, this world carries the inner, new man, who is created according to God, and he who is fashioned and formed here is born perfect into that perfect and ageless world. For just as nature prepares the fetus, as long as it is enclosed in the maternal womb, for life in this light—living in darkness and night—and conforms it as if to a standard or rule for the life that is to receive it, so also it happens with the saints. And this is what the Apostle Paul said, writing to the Galatians: "My little children, with whom I am again in travail until Christ be formed in you." C Yet, infants not yet born do not know this life, but the blessed have foreknowledge of many things of the future age even in this one. The reason for this is that they do not yet happen to enjoy that life, although it will certainly come to pass. For in those places where they are hidden, no ray of light has been seen yet, nor anything else that supports and sustains this life of ours. But with us, the matter stands otherwise: we for whom the life that we await is, so to speak, bound up and mixed with this present one; and the sun of that life has shone kindly even upon us, so that the heavenly ointment has been poured out into these foul-smelling regions, and the bread of the angels has been given even to men.
D Because of this, therefore, it is permitted to the saints not only to be instructed and prepared for that life, but even now to live according to it and to act in this mortality. "Lay hold," says Paul writing to Timothy, "of the eternal life." And elsewhere: "I live, yet not I, but Christ lives in me." And the divine Ignatius says: "There is water living and speaking within me, saying to me, 'Come to the Father.'" And the Holy Scriptures are filled with many such things. Besides all these things, when this life is with one until the end...
it is promised to the saints: "Behold," He says, "I am with you all the days, even unto the end of the world." What else is it fitting to think and to gather? For He did not, having provided the seeds of life to the earth and cast the fire and the sword, depart immediately, leaving to men the care of growing and nourishing and igniting and using them; but He Himself is truly present, "working in us both to will and to work," as the blessed Paul said; and He Himself ignites and brings the fire, and He Himself is the one who holds the sword. And in general, "neither shall the axe boast itself without the one who wields it," and to those to whom the Good One is not present, no good thing could exist. And yet the Lord promised not only to be present to the saints, but also to remain with them and, what is greater than this, to make His abode within them. And what am I to say? Since He is even said to be united to them, so philanthropically that He is one spirit with them: "For he that is joined to the Lord is one spirit," and, "That you may be one body and one spirit, even as you were called," is the voice of Paul.
B Just as the philanthropy and the love of God for our race is ineffable and surpasses human discourse, and is fitting only to the divine goodness—for this is "the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding"—so it follows that His union with those whom He loves surpasses every union that any person could conceive in his mind, and cannot be declared by any comparison proportionate to its dignity. For this reason, the Scripture had need of many examples in order to be able to make known that conjunction, as one was by no means sufficient; and now He introduces an inhabitant and a house, now a vine and a branch, and now a marriage, and now members and a head; none of which is equal to that [union]. For it is not possible from these to attain the truth exactly. For it is necessary that the conjunction be in accordance with the love, but what could be equal to the divine love? Furthermore, because marriage and the harmony of the members toward the head seem to show the greatest conjunction and unity, these fall far short, and they are far from declaring the things that are. For marriage would not unite in such a way that those being joined are in one another and live, as happens in the case of Christ and the Church; whence the divine Apostle, having spoken C about marriage, "This mystery is great," added, "but I am speaking of Christ and the Church," showing that he was wondering not at that marriage, but rather at this one. The members are indeed joined to the head, and they live by being joined, and being cut off they die; but these members appear united to Christ rather than to their own head, and living by Him rather than by the harmony with that head. And this is evident from the blessed martyrs, who endured indeed the one [death] readily, but could not bear even to hear of the other, and D that head...
and those very limbs they surrendered with pleasure, but from Christ they could not be separated or torn away even to the extent of a word.
I have not yet said what is especially unusual and singular. For what could be more joined to another than it is to itself? And yet this very conjunction or union is inferior and more imperfect than that conjunction. For every one of the blessed spirits is one and the same to himself, but he is joined to the Savior more than to himself; for he loves the Savior more than himself, and Paul will bear witness to this word, praying to be anathema from Christ for the sake of the salvation of the Jews, so that glory might be added to Him. But if human love is so great, how great the divine [love] is, cannot be estimated. For if those who are evil exhibited such goodness, what shall we say of that goodness? Since, then, love is so excellent and distinguished, it must be that the attachment to which it drives those who love is such that it humbles the human intellect, so that it cannot even elevate itself to a likeness or comparison. But let us consider the matter in this way.
Since there are many things which we need for life—I mean air, light, food, clothing, the very faculties of nature, and limbs—it happens that we do not always need the use of all of them for everything; but we employ now this, now that, since one thing or another serves the present need. For we put on clothing, which does not provide nourishment, but those desiring food must seek something else. Light does not serve to guide the soul. Air, in turn, does not radiate for us like a beam of light. We do not exercise the functions of our senses and limbs continuously; but both the eye and the hand are sometimes idle when there is need to listen. The hand is sufficient for those desiring to touch or handle something, but it is of no use to those wishing to smell, or hear, or see; but leaving it aside, we turn to another faculty. But the Savior is always present in every way to those who live in Him, so that He provides for all their needs and is to them all things, and does not allow them at all to turn elsewhere or to seek anything from anyone else. For the saints do not need anything that He himself is not. He surely begets them, and rears them, and feeds them; He is their light and their garment, and He fashions for them an eye by Himself, and illuminates it by Himself, and presents Himself to be seen. And while He is the nourisher, at the same time He is the one who gives the bread of life; it is He, I say, who gives. And He is life to those who live, and ointment to those who breathe, and a garment to those who wish to be covered. Indeed, He is the one through whom we can walk, and the way itself, and furthermore the end of the way, and the inn as well. We are the members, He is the head. Is there need to struggle? He struggles together [with us]. Are we struggling nobly? He is the president and arbiter of the contest. Do we win? Soon there is the crown. Thus, from every side He turns our mind toward Himself, nor does He allow it to pay heed
A to anything else, nor to conceive desire for any existing thing. For even if we stir up desire here, He Himself stays and calms it; and if elsewhere, again He Himself; and if in another direction, He seizes this path as well and catches those who pass by. "If I ascend into heaven, You are there," He says; "if I descend into hell, You are present; if I take my wings in the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there Your hand shall guide me and Your right hand shall hold me." By a certain admirable and gracious tyranny, He draws us to Himself alone, and joins and binds us to Himself alone. And this I think is the necessity by which He compelled those whom He invited to His house and feast, when He said to the servant, "Compel them to enter, that my house may be filled."
Well then. That the life in Christ is not for the future age only, but is already present to the saints in the present age, and that they live and work according to it, is evident from what has been said. But how it is possible to live in this way, and, as Paul says, to "walk in newness of life," B and—to say what I mean—what they do to have Christ so joined and attached to them, and by what name this state must be called, we shall discuss in what follows.
There is, therefore, one part that is from God, and another that is of our own zeal; the former is purely His work, while the latter also involves our own earnest effort—or rather, so much is contributed by us only insofar as we endure the grace and do not betray the treasure, nor quench the lamp already lit. I mean that we bring in nothing contrary to the life and that which gives birth to death. For every human good and every virtue aims at this, so that no one should thrust the sword into himself, nor flee from happiness, nor shake the crowns from his own head; since Christ Himself, being present, plants the very essence of life in our souls in an ineffable way. For He truly is present, and brings aid to the beginnings of life, which He Himself conferred by His coming. But He is present not as at first, by sharing with us in diet, in gatherings, and in company, but in another, better and more perfect way, according to which we become of one body with Him C and fellow-livers, and members, and whatever else pertains to this. For just as His philanthropy, which is boundless—whence He was moved to love those who were most shameful and to deem them worthy of such great graces—and his union, by which He dwells with those who are loved, surpasses every image and every name; so too the manner by which He stays with us and does good is admirable, and befitting only to Him who does marvelous things. For the death, which He truly died for our life, He renews and restores by certain signs and marks, imitating it as in a painting, in the very realities themselves, and makes us participants of His own life.
For in the sacred mysteries, by depicting His tomb and proclaiming His death, through them we are born and formed D and supernaturally united to the Savior; for these are the things through which in Him, as Paul...
A says, we live and move and are. For baptism grants existence and makes us subsist in Christ; for it takes hold of us when we are dead and ruined and introduces us first into life. The anointing with myron completes the one who has been born, by infusing into him the activity appropriate to such a life; and the divine Eucharist preserves and sustains this life and health. For the bread of life grants the power to preserve what has been acquired and to continue living; and for this reason, we live by this bread, while we move by the myron, having received our existence B from the font. And in this way we live in God, shifting our life from this visible world to the invisible, not by changing our place, but by changing our life and mode of living. For we ourselves were not moved toward God, nor did we ascend to Him; rather, He came to us and descended. For we did not seek, but we were sought, because the sheep did not seek the shepherd, nor the drachma the master of the house, but He Himself looked down to the earth and found His own image, and came into the places where the sheep was straying, and lifted it upon His shoulders, and restrained it from wandering: not by transporting C men from there, but by making them heavenly while still remaining on earth, and by bestowing upon them the heavenly life, not by leading them up to heaven, but by inclining heaven toward us and bringing it down. "For, as the Prophet says, He bowed the heavens and came down." And so, through these holy mysteries, as through windows, the Sun of Justice enters into this dark world, and He puts to death the life that is consonant with this world, while raising up the life that is above the world, and the light of the world overcomes the world, which He hints at by saying, "I have overcome the world," by introducing the stable and immortal D life into a mortal and flowing body.
Just as in a house, when the sun's ray has entered, the lamp no longer turns the eyes of those who see toward itself, but the brilliance of the ray, being superior, dominates; in the same way, in this life, the splendor of the future life, having entered through the mysteries and dwelling in our souls, overcomes the life lived in the flesh and clouds the beauty and brightness of this world. And this is that life in the Spirit, by which all desire of the flesh is conquered, according to the word of Paul: "Walk in the Spirit," he says, "and you shall not fulfill the desire of the flesh." Our Lord cut this path for us as He came, and opened this gate as He entered into the world; and having returned to the Father, He did not endure to close it, but from that time forth He visits men through it; or rather, He is always present and is with us and will be until the end, fulfilling and confirming those promises. Therefore, "This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven," as the patriarch Jacob said, through which not only do angels descend to the earth (for they are present at the initiation of each one), but also the Lord of angels Himself. For this reason, even when the Savior, prefiguring His own baptism as on a tablet, did not refuse to be washed in the baptism of John, heaven ope
opened, showing A that this is the means by which we shall see the heavenly realm; and indeed, by the words in which He declared that he who has not been baptized cannot enter into life, He indicated that this washing is, as it were, an entry and a gate. "Open to me the gates of righteousness," says David, desiring, I think, that these gates be opened. For this is what many prophets and kings desired to see: the Artisan of these gates come down to earth. For this reason also, if he should attain to the entry and pass through these gates, he confesses that he will give thanks to God who divided the wall. "For having entered into them," he says, "I will confess to the Lord," as one who, most of all from these gates, would be able to arrive at the most perfect knowledge B of the goodness and philanthropy of God toward the human race.
For what could be a greater sign of goodness and philanthropy than that He should cleanse the soul with water as a sign, anoint it with myrrh to make it reign in the kingdom of the heavens, and feed it by setting forth His own body and blood? And to think that men become gods and sons of God, that our nature is honored with the honor of God, and that dust is raised to such a height of glory that it has already become a sharer and a partner with the divine nature—to whom could such a thing happen? What greatness of novelty and unusualness could it have left out? For this is the power of God, which "covered the heavens," C and, I think, surpassed all creation; and it hid every work of God by excelling it in magnitude and beauty. For of all divine works, while they are so many, so good, and so great, there is none which does not fall short of the wisdom and art of the Creator, and one could not even say that it is possible for Him to produce even greater and more beautiful things than those which have been produced. But if it is possible for a work of God to be created so good, so that it vies with that wisdom and power and art, and, so to speak, is made equal to His infinity, and shows forth, like a footprint, the whole magnitude of the divine goodness—this, I think, is to have overcome. For if this is ever the work of God, to share His good, and He does all things for the sake of this, and this is the end of both those things already brought into being and those which might be brought into being D in the time to come (for Dionysius says the good is diffused and propagated), the One who makes this, God, has shared the greatest good of all, and than which He has none greater to give; this would be the greatest and most beautiful work of goodness, and the final limit of His kindness. Such is the work of the economy which was administered for the sake of men. For here God did not simply share some good with the nature of men, while keeping more for Himself, but He poured into it the whole fullness of the Godhead, all His own natural riches. For this reason, the righteousness of God is said to be famously revealed in the Gospel to Paul
A Paul said: "For if there is any virtue and righteousness of God, this would be the distributing of His own goods to all in abundance, and a communion of blessedness." For this reason, the most sacred mysteries might deservedly be called the gates of righteousness, because it is the supreme philanthropy and goodness of God toward our race—which is His divine virtue and righteousness—that has made these portals of entry for us into heaven.
And indeed, the Lord established this trophy also in another way, by a certain judgment and righteousness, and He granted this gate and this path to us. For He did not snatch the captives away, but paid the price for their liberation, and bound the strong one because He was more powerful; and having condemned him by a righteous verdict, He reigned over the house of Jacob, overthrowing the tyranny in the souls of men—not because He was unable to overthrow it, but because it was righteous that it should be overthrown. And David indicated this, saying: "Righteousness and judgment are the preparation of Thy throne" (Ps. lxxxviii, 15). Nor did righteousness alone open these gates, but righteousness itself came through them to our race. For in the earlier times, before God descended unto men, it was not possible to find righteousness upon the earth. For God Himself looked down from heaven and sought it, He whom it could not have escaped had it existed at all, yet He did not find it: "For all, he says, have turned aside; they have together become unprofitable; there is none who does good, there is not even one" (Ps. xiii, 3). But after the truth sprang up from the earth to those sitting in the darkness of falsehood and in the shadow, at that time righteousness also looked down from heaven, then for the first time truly and perfectly appearing to men. B And we were justified, first of all delivered from bonds and from the duty of rendering an account, by Him who had committed no sin answering on our behalf through the death of the cross, by which He paid the penalty for what we had nefariously dared; then also we became friends of God and righteous through that death. For the Savior did not only deliver us and reconcile us to the Father by His death, but He also "gave us power to become children of God" (John i, 12), uniting our nature to Himself by the flesh He took, and uniting each of us to His own flesh by the power of the mysteries. And in this way He makes His own righteousness and life spring up in our souls; thus it was granted to men both to know and to perform true righteousness through the holy C mysteries.
For if many righteous men and friends of God are recorded in Scripture before the arrival of Him who justifies and reconciles, one must consider this first—which pertained primarily to their own age and afterward to what was to come—that they were able and were prepared to run toward the righteousness that would arise, and, once the price had been paid, to be lifted from the bonds by which they were held, to look upon the light that had been offered, and, once the truth had been demonstrated, to withdraw from the types and shadows. And in this the righteous were distinguished from the wicked, though in other respects they were almost in the same D bondage and suffering the same tyranny, that the former [looked] toward the
destruction of the prison and the breaking of those chains, and were longing to see the head of the tyrant trampled underfoot by the prisoners; while to the latter, the present circumstances seemed to have nothing terrible about them, and they were happy in their slavery. Such also were those in that blessed time, who neither accepted the sun that had risen upon them, nor, so far as they were able, did they refrain from attempting to extinguish it, omitting nothing by which they thought they could obscure its rays. Whence, the former were delivered from the tyranny of Hades when the King appeared, while the latter remained in their chains.
For just as among the sick, who seek a cure by every means and gladly look upon the physician, those who do not even feel that they are ill and shrink from medicine are usually better and more bearable—for I think the physician heals and speaks to those who are already recovering, and does so without hesitation, if he knows his art is not unequal to the cruelty of the disease—in this same manner B God called certain just men and friends in those ages. For they contributed everything within their power and displayed the justice that was possible; this made them worthy of being set free, since He who had the power to set them free was present. Yet He did not set them free at all. And yet, if this were true justice, they themselves also, upon depositing this body, ought to have been "in peace and in the hand of God," as Solomon says; but now, as they departed from here, the underworld received them. For our Master did not bring the true justice and friendship with God back from some remote and foreign place, as if from exile; but He Himself was the first to introduce it into the world, and He found the path to heaven not already existing, but He Himself paved it and walked upon it. For if it had existed, surely another of the ancients would have C taken it: "For no one has ascended into heaven, except He who descended from heaven, the Son of Man, who is in heaven." For where there was no finding of remission of sins and release from judgment before the cross, what should one think regarding justice? "For it was not consistent, I think, for those who had not yet been reconciled to be ranked in the choir of friends and, while still surrounded by chains, to be proclaimed as crowned ones. To state it summarily, if that paschal lamb accomplished everything, what need was there for these later events? For if types and shadows brought about the sought-for happiness, then the truth and the realities are in vain. But that through the death of Christ the enmity was destroyed D and the middle wall of partition was removed, and that peace and justice arose in the days of the Savior, and all such things—what place could they still have, if those were already friends of God and righteous before that sacrifice? And there is another obvious argument: then indeed the law linked us to God, but now it is faith and grace and whatever is akin to these. For it is manifest from this that the communion of men with God was at that time mere slavery, but now it is the adoption of children, and
indeed A much more than this, as the Savior is the firstborn of the dead, nor could any of the deceased have returned to immortal life before He Himself had risen and existed again; in the same manner He alone has gone before for men toward holiness and righteousness. And Paul also confirms this, writing that Christ has entered as a forerunner into the holy place for us. For He entered into the holy places, having offered Himself to the Father, and He introduces those who wish to be partakers of His burial, not dying as He did, but in the laver of baptism displaying that death to their own thought, and in the sacred table announcing it, and being anointed and feasting in an ineffable manner on Him who died and rose again. And thus, through these gates, having introduced them into the kingdom, He leads them to the crowns.
These gates are far more venerable and useful than the gates of paradise. For those could not be opened to anyone who had not first entered through these gates, but these are open even when those are closed. And those were able to bring out those who were inside, but these only introduce and bring out no one. And those could also be closed—and indeed they were closed—but over these, the veil and the middle-wall have been entirely destroyed and removed; nor is it possible any longer to raise up a partition, or to refit gates, or for the worlds to be divided from one another by a wall. For C not only have the heavens been opened, but they have been torn asunder, as the wondrous Mark says, showing that no longer has any door or doorpost or veil been left behind. For He who reconciled and joined the upper world to those below and made peace, and destroyed the middle-wall of partition, cannot deny Himself, as the blessed Paul says. For those gates, having been opened on account of Adam, since he did not persist in that in which he ought to have persisted, it was surely reasonable that they should also be closed. But these gates Christ Himself has opened, He who committed no sin, nor does sin fall upon Him. For His justice, says David, remains forever. Whence it is absolutely necessary that they always lie open, and introduce [men] to life, but provide no exit from life to anyone. "I came," says the Savior, "that they may have life." For this is the life which the Lord brought with Him: that those who have come through these mysteries might share in His death and be partakers of His passion, and without this, it is not possible to escape death. For D it is not permitted for one unbaptized in water and the Spirit to enter into life, nor can those who have not eaten the flesh of the Son of Man and drunk His blood have life in themselves.
Let us discuss this matter further from above. It is not permitted to live to God if we are not dead to sins. But to be able
A to kill sin is the work of God alone. For it was owed to men; for we, being righteous, willingly defeated, ought to have wrestled back the defeat, but it was not possible, nor even near, since we had already become slaves to sin. For how could we have become stronger than that to which we were enslaved? Or even if we were greater, "A servant is not greater than his master." Since, therefore, the one who was just to grasp this debt and to seize this victory was a slave of those whom by war he ought to have conquered, while God, in whose power these things are, owed nothing to anyone, and for these reasons neither party undertook the struggle, sin lived on, and it was impossible for true life to dawn for us B—seeing that an award was expected from one, while another possessed the power—for this reason, it was necessary for this and that to come together and unite, and for the one and same person to possess both natures, both that of the one suitable for the struggle and that of the one who was able to conquer. It happens, therefore, that God adopts the struggle for the sake of men, for He becomes man; and man conquers sin, being clean of all sin, for He was God; and in this way nature is relieved of the reproaches and is crowned with the wreath of victory, once sin has fallen. Yet not every man has even yet conquered or struggled on account of these things, that is, he has been freed from those bonds, and this, too, He Himself has done through what the Savior added, in which He gave to each of C the men the power to kill sin and to become a partner with Him in the victory.
For because after that victory it was necessary to be crowned and to triumph, but He had come to experience lashes and cross and death and such things—which Paul says: "For the joy that was set before Him, He endured the cross, despising the shame"—what then happens? He did nothing wrong for which He should pay the penalty for these things, nor did He commit sin, nor did He have anything for which an informer, even one most shameless, could have brought a charge; yet the lash and pain and death were devised from the beginning against sin. For why did He, who is philanthropic, the Master, allow it? For it is not likely that goodness should delight in what is terrible and deathly. D For this reason, straight after sin, God allowed death and pain, not so much inflicting punishment upon one who has sinned as offering medicine to one who is sick. Since, therefore, it was not fitting to apply this punishment to the deeds performed by Christ, and the Savior carried no trace of the disease which the medicine He took might have removed, the efficacy of that draught passes to us and kills the sin sticking within us, and the lashing of the innocent becomes punishment for those subject to many crimes. And since the justice was something great and wondrous and greater than to be a match for human evils, it did not stop at this, having solved the crime, but added such an abundance of good things that it raised them even to heaven itself and gave to those from the earth—the most hostile, the bound, the enslaved, the dishonored—a share in the kingdom of God here.
A For that death was precious, for reasons beyond what the human mind can grasp, even though the Savior willingly allowed himself to be sold to those murderers for a small price. This, too, is a part of that supreme poverty and ignominy, that by being sold entirely, he might endure something servile and gain thereby to be treated with contumely. For he counted the indignity undergone for us as a gain; and by being sold for a trifle, he hinted that he had come freely and as a gift to endure death for the sake of the world. He died of his own will, having wronged no one, neither in the interest of his own life nor for the sake of the commonweal, having anticipated his murderers with benefits far greater than any of their desires or hopes.
But why do I recount these things? God has died; it is the blood of God that has been shed upon the cross. What could be more precious than this death? What could be more to be revered? How great was the sin of the human race, that Justice herself had to solve it? What was the wound that demanded so noble a remedy? It was necessary that sin be abolished by some retribution, and that those who had sinned against God be freed from their accusations once they had paid the debt of the penalty. For he who has paid the penalty is no longer called to judgment for those things on account of which he paid. Yet no man was found who, being himself innocent and pure from stain, could suffer on behalf of others; since no one was sufficient even for himself, nor could the entire human race, even if it were possible to die a thousand times, have paid the penalty that was owed. C For what could a most wretched slave suffer, worthy to match his dignity, if he had shattered the royal image and had been so insolent toward such great majesty? For this reason, the sinless Master, having endured many terrible things, dies and bears the blow, being man while pleading for the cause of humanity, and he dissolves the race of transgressions and gives to those who were bound the freedom of which he himself, as God and Master, had no need.
For which reasons, then, the true life through the death of the Savior flows down to us, these are they. The manner in which we draw this life into our own souls is by being initiated into the mysteries: namely, by being washed, by being anointed, and by satisfying ourselves at the sacred banquet. D For to those who do these things, Christ comes and dwells within them, and is joined and clings to them, and he strangles the sin within us and imparts his own life and valor, and admits us to a share in his victory—O, the goodness!—he crowns those who are washed and proclaims those who dine. But why and by what reasoning does victory and a crown come from the washing, the anointing, and the table, which are the rewards of labors, sweats, and dangers? Because, even if we do not contend or labor while undergoing these things, nevertheless we celebrate that contest with praises, we receive the victory, we adore the trophy, and we show a fervent and ineffable love toward that most valiant and preeminent warrior. And we make those wounds, those blows, and that death our own, and, by whatever means we can, we claim them for ourselves, and we taste the very flesh of him who died and rose again.
A Whence we rightly enjoy the blessings that flow from those sufferings and that death of his. For if anyone rescues a captured tyrant who is condemned to punishment, decorates him with a crown, reveres him for his tyranny, and, upon his perishing, considers that he himself should also die, raising outcries against the laws and raging against justice—and does this not with shame and by hiding his wickedness, but brazenly, calling upon the gods and exposing himself in the matter—what verdict shall we pass upon him? Shall we not judge that he ought to be punished with the same torments as the tyrant? This is surely clear to everyone.
Is it not, therefore, entirely the opposite action of one who admires a most warlike king, rejoices in his victory, weaves garlands for him, raises cheers, shakes the whole theater, and throws himself with joy before the triumphant victor, kisses his head, and embraces his right hand—acting with such intensity and vehemence, almost to the point of madness, B love for the leader and the victory he has won, just as if he himself were the one to adorn his own head with the crown? For such a person would rightly be considered by just judges to have a share in the rewards of the victor, just as the other, I suppose, will be a partner in the tyrant's punishment. For if we make allowances for what it is fitting for such wicked people to receive, and if account must be taken of the intention and the mind, then by no means is it right for the good to be deprived of their own rewards. But if this, too, be added: that he who accomplished the victory himself has no need of the prizes of victory, but considers it above all other things worth seeing that his follower be conspicuous in the theater, and deems this the honorarium of his own struggle, namely, to see his friend crowned—how could that man not justly and quite consistently carry off the crown from the war without any sweat or dangers?
These things, then, both this font and the supper and C the chaste delight of the anointing can bring about for us. For when we are initiated, we denounce the tyrant, we spit on him, and we turn away from him. But we praise the most valiant warrior, we admire him, we worship him, and we love him with our whole heart, so that, with an abundance of love, we are fed as if on bread, and are surrounded by it as if by water. It is, moreover, clear that he chose this war on our behalf, and that in order for us to win, he himself did not refuse to die, so that it is neither inconsistent nor absurd to come from these mysteries to the crowns. We, for our part, display such eagerness and zeal as we are able; and hearing that this fountain possesses the power of the death and burial of Christ, D we all believe and gladly approach and are submerged. He does not give small gifts, nor does he deem those who draw near to him worthy of small things, but he welcomes with love those who, after his death and burial, apply themselves to him—not by offering some crown, nor by sharing his glory with them, but by communicating the victor himself, and by communicating himself, the crowned one, to them. And as we come up from the sacred font, we carry the Savior himself in our souls, in our head, in our eyes, in our very inner parts, in all our members, pure from sin, exempt from all corruption, as he rose again and appeared to his disciples and was taken up, as he will arrive again to demand this treasure.
A Thus born and, as it were, signed with a certain appearance and form by Christ, so that we may not admit another appearance, he himself occupies the entrance to our life. And through those very channels by which we draw in air for the spirit and take in nourishment to sustain life, he himself enters into our souls and claims both portals for himself: the one as ointment and sweet fragrance, the other as food, fitting and appropriate. For we both breathe him in and have him for our sustenance; and since he has thus entwined and mingled himself with us through all things, he makes us his body and becomes for us the same thing as the head is to the members. For this reason, because he is the head, we are partakers and partners in all his goods; for it is necessary that what belongs to the head should pass into the body. B And at this one might not unworthily marvel: that although we did not endure torments or death with him, but he struggled alone, yet when the moment for the coronation arrives, he wills that we be his partners. This is, therefore, a matter of such humanity that it cannot be expressed in words, nor is it far from the reason and the sequence of events. For after the cross we were joined to Christ; before he had died, no communion existed for us with him. For he was the Son and the Beloved, while we were wicked, and slaves, and enemies in our intent; but after he endured slaughter, and the ransom was paid for our freedom, and the prison of the devil was destroyed, C then we received freedom and the adoption of sons, and became members of that blessed head. From that time forth, therefore, what is of the head becomes ours also. And now, indeed, we depart from these waters obligated by no sin, and we are associated with him in the same grace, and by reason of the ointment and the table we live the same life with him; while in the age to come we shall live as gods with God, and as heirs of the same things as he, and reigning in the same kingdom with him, unless we ourselves, willingly and of our own accord, blind ourselves in this life and tear the royal robe. For this alone is what we add of our own to the life we have received: that we keep the gifts and guard the grace, and do not cast away the crown which God has woven for us with many sweats and D labors. This is the life in Christ, which the mysteries indeed forge, but to which human diligence also contributes somewhat. To one wishing to discourse upon this, when he has first discussed each of the mysteries separately, then finally, a systematic treatment concerning action conjoined with virtue will follow.
SECOND DISCOURSE CONCERNING THE LIFE IN CHRIST
CONCERNING THE LIFE IN CHRIST
BOOK TWO
*What beneficial fruit divine baptism provides for it.*A That the sacred life is contained in and coheres within the sacred mysteries has been demonstrated in the previous book. How each of the mysteries, in its own way, leads to this life, we shall now examine. For the life in Christ is nothing other than being joined to Christ. We shall now state the manner in which each rite links those who are perfected to Christ. It is surely necessary for those who are to be joined to Christ to pass through all [the stages] through which the Savior passed, and to have done and suffered all that He did. Now He was joined to flesh and blood pure from all sin; and being God by nature from the beginning, He deified also this which He later became, namely, human nature. Finally, for the sake of the flesh, He underwent death and rose again. Therefore, he who seeks to be joined to Him must partake of His flesh, partake of His deification, and have fellowship in His burial and resurrection. And indeed we are baptized, that we may die that death and rise again that resurrection; we are anointed, that we may become partakers of the royal anointing and the deification given to Him. Partaking of the most holy bread and drinking the most divine cup, we share in His very flesh and blood, those which the Savior assumed; and in this way we are joined to Him who was incarnate, deified, died, and rose again for our sake. Why, then, do we not maintain the same order as Him? Why do we not end where He began, and begin where He ended? It is because He descended so that we might ascend. B And while the proposed path is the same, His undertaking was a descent, while ours is an ascent; therefore, just as on a ladder, what was the summit for Him as He descended, becomes the beginning for us as we ascend. Furthermore, it is not even permitted otherwise, because of the nature of the things themselves. For baptism is a generation, or birth. The ointment, or chrism, has the nature of action and motion. The bread of life and the cup of the Eucharist is true food and true drink. But one cannot be moved or nourished before one has been born. Furthermore, baptism reconciles man with God, the anointing makes him worthy of the gifts stored up there, and the power of the table makes the flesh and blood of Christ common to the person being perfected. It is impossible...
the anointing makes him worthy of the gifts stored up there, and the power of the table makes the flesh and blood of Christ common to the person being perfected. It is impossible, before reconciliation, to have intimacy with friends, or to merit the rewards that are their own, or for those who are wicked and subject to sins to eat of the flesh and drink of the blood of those who are involved in no kind of offense. Therefore, we are washed first, then we are anointed, and thus the table receives us as clean and sweet-smelling.
And these things, then, are so far. Now let us proceed to instruct concerning each of the mysteries, what utility they contribute to the sacred life; and first concerning baptism, what benefits are able to result from it for this life.
To be baptized, therefore, is the very thing of being born according to Christ, and of receiving one’s very being and substance when you were previously nothing: this is something that may be perceived from many places. First, from the order itself; for this is the first of the mysteries by which we are consecrated, and this introduces Christians into the new life before the others. Next, from the very names by which we call it. Finally, from its ceremonies and prayers that are used in its administration.
The order, therefore, from the beginning is this: to be washed first, then anointed, and thus finally to recline at the sacred feast; which is indeed an evident argument that the laver is the beginning and foundation of life and the infrastructure of such things. Seeing that even Christ himself, among all the things he endured for our sake—since it was fitting for him to be cleansed by baptism—did not refuse it in the first place. But to what else could the names possibly point? We call it generation, regeneration, reformation, and a seal, or signet; furthermore, baptism, or immersion, clothing, anointing, gift, and illumination, and a laver: all of which mean and signify this one thing: that for those who are and live according to God, this initiation is the beginning of their being. C For "generation" seems to signify nothing other than this. Similarly, "regeneration" and "reformation" signify only this: that those now born and formed have also previously been born, and having lost their form, now by this second generation have returned to their original appearance and shape; just as when a sculptor restores the lost form to the material of some statue, he regenerates and reforms the image. For this very work of baptism, whatever it may ultimately be in us, is a certain species and form; for it paints and engraves a certain image in our souls, and inserts the form, making us conformable to the death and resurrection of the Savior. Hence it is also called a "seal" or "signet," when it fashions us toward the royal likeness and that blessed appearance. Moreover, the species, having embraced the matter, does not allow it to be formless thereafter. Furthermore, we designate this mystery by the name of "clothing" and "baptism," that is, "immersion"; and he who has been initiated is said to be both clothed and baptized, Paul declaring this when he refers the clothing and the seal to this—now saying that Christ is inscribed and formed, and now that he is put on by Christians like a garment; the one who has been initiated is said to have been clothed and baptized, writing to the Galatians, "My little children, of whom I am again in travail until Christ be formed in you," and, "Jesus Christ..."
"As many of you as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ." For gold, silver, and bronze, as long as they are melted by the fire and kept in a fluid state, present to those who see them only their naked material; hence, gold, or bronze, or silver is the very name given to the material itself. But when it is forged by the irons of the craftsmen into a figure, it is no longer the material that first catches the eye of the observer, but the figure, just as garments are seen before the bodies that wear them. From this it receives its proper name; for instance, it is called a statue, an B annulus, or whatever else of this kind signifies not the material, but only the form and appearance. Perhaps this is also why the day of the saving baptism is the "naming day" for Christians—that is, the day on which names are imposed upon those baptized—because at that time we are molded and fashioned, and our life, which was formless and undefined, receives a face, a terminus, and a certain limit. Furthermore, it is because we are then first known by Him who knows His own, and as Paul says, "But now, after that ye have known God, or rather are known of God," we hear that significant word—the naming—on that day, as though we were then truly recognized. For to be known by God is, in truth, to be truly notable. For this reason, David also said of those who have no share in this holy life, "I will not make mention of their names with my lips." For they are unknown C and unseen, having removed themselves far from that light. For just as nothing is visible to eyes that are able to see without the light that allows them to be seen, so nothing is known to God that has not received the ray shining from Him. The reason is that, in very truth, that which is not manifested by that light does not exist at all. It is for this reason that "The Lord knoweth them that are His," and again He says that He does not know the foolish virgins.
Baptism as Illumination, Lavacrum, and Charisma
For this reason, baptism is called "illumination," because it renders those who possess it truly known to God, and by bringing them into that light, it separates them from the obscuring wickedness. It is also called "lavacrum" (bath) for the same reason it is called illumination: for in this way it allows a clear and pure communion with the light, destroying, as it were, a dividing wall—every defilement that excludes the divine ray from our souls. D But why is it called "charisma" (gift) as a birth? For what could anyone contribute to his own birth? Indeed, if one were to examine the matter more closely, the situation is the same as in natural birth; we do not even contribute our own will to the good things that come from baptism. For it is pleasing to ponder what these are, yet "these things have not entered into the heart of man," nor could anyone conceive of them until he has had the experience. For when we call a thing "liberty" or a "kingdom," we conceive of a certain blessed life that the human mind can grasp; but the reality is something else entirely, greater than what the mind...
's desire can reach. And A it is called "unction" or "chrism" because it inscribes upon the initiates Christ, who was anointed for our sake, and it is a seal, imprinting the Savior himself. For the unction, penetrating everywhere through the entire form of the body of the one receiving it, and perfectly adapting it, makes that body an express image and seal of the Anointed One himself, and shows the form, and is truly a seal. We have further taught that the seal signifies the same thing as the generation, just as it does the "garment" and the "immersion." But since the gift, and the illumination, and the washing all belong to the same thing as the formation and the generation, it became clear that every title of baptism signifies that one thing: namely, that this washing is for us a generation and the beginning of life in Christ. But whether the ceremonies and the things repeated in this mystery possess this power will be clear to those who scrutinize this initiation part by part.
For it is observed that he who approaches to receive this mystery, before he is initiated, is not yet reconciled to God, nor yet cleansed from his ancient disgrace and baseness. Indeed, the initiator prays before any other ceremony that he may be delivered from the demon by whom he is possessed; and he not only addresses God on his behalf, but also, confronting the catechumen himself, he rebukes the tyrant and pursues him with lashes. The lash, for him, is B "that name which is above every name." So far is he from being alive and a son and heir, that he is still caught in the service of the tyrant. For he who has dealings with the evil one departs entirely from God; and this is, in every sense, to be dead. Therefore, also, as if approaching one who is still lifeless, the initiator blows into his face: for that breathing is a hidden sign of the life to be brought down from heaven. What follows corresponds to this. For they are all, as it were, ways of being reborn; things present and in his hands he despises, being translated to another way of life. For there is an urgency to despise this world and honor the other; to bid farewell to this life and to live the other; and to flee from the leader of this life with all one's oars and sails, while following the other with all possible zeal. Therefore, since he lays aside his present garments, he sufficiently indicates those things for which he, as one not yet reconciled, condemns himself. But because he receives from this mystery things that are fairer and that have been preferred over the present things, he shows that, in being baptized, he is entering upon a praiseworthy life. For having entered the sacred house, he puts off his tunic and unbinds his sandals, signifying by the garment and the sandals—things necessary for life—his former manner of living. Further, turning to the west, he breathes out from his mouth, as a sign of the life lived in darkness; he stretches out his hands, and as if the evil one were present and pressing upon him, he repels him, and abominates him as impure and wicked, and renounces the most hostile and faithless covenant and D the cause of all destruction, and breaks off entirely the bitter friendship and praises the enmity. And when he flees the darkness,
A and runs to the day, and looks toward the east, he seeks the sun; and, released from the tyrant's hands, he worships the King; and, condemning the illegitimate one, he recognizes the true Master, and prays to be subjected to Him and to serve Him with his whole soul; and, before these things, to believe in Him as God and to know the things it is proper to know concerning Him. For this too is the beginning of the blessed life, the true knowledge of God. "For to know Thee," says Solomon, "is the root of immortality," just as the failure to know God introduced death from the beginning. For since Adam, being ignorant of the divine benevolence, thought the Good One to be envious, and forgetting wisdom, supposed he could hide from the Wise One, he joined himself to the fugitive, having disregarded the Master. And for this reason he was cast out of paradise, and was stripped of life, and was afflicted with pain, and died; whence for one who is hastening toward life, there is every necessity to lead with the knowledge of God.
And our being stripped naked and laying aside the final tunic shows that we are now touching the path that leads to paradise and the life that is lived there. For Adam, indeed, having come to nudity from that blessed garment, descended from it to this wretched attire. We, however, coming to nudity from the tunics of skin and walking through the same medium, have shown that we are returning by the same path and hastening to recover the royal garment, and that by the same things through which he descended into this world, we are returning from hence. And the sign of nudity would also be this: that we now approach the true light purely, bringing nothing with us, whence the shadow of death, and the things that can intercept the blessed ray from human souls, just as garments, like a certain wall, stand between this light and our bodies.
B Furthermore, the anointing with oil could be a sign of something else, and it is also able to point toward this. For let us consider the stone of Jacob, which, having anointed with oil, he offered to God; and the kings and priests were consecrated with this very same oil to the people and to God—who live not at all for themselves, but for God and for the commonwealth for which they were appointed. And we also depart from our own life and from ourselves to God; this is the ancient form, having cast off the appearance C of another, to become like unto Him, and a symbol appropriate and highly fitting for the name of Christians. For we are anointed, and He whom we seek to resemble is Christ, who anointed human nature with His divinity, since we also communicate with Him in the anointing; for this unction is a sign and mark of that unction, and the one who initiates demonstrates this by the things he chants over the one being initiated and anointed. For these are the same things through which David indicated that unction of Christ and His kingdom. For the priest says, "He is anointed," (meaning the one being initiated) "with the oil of gladness"; but David, "God, Thy God, hath anointed Thee" (he says to the Savior), "with the oil of gladness above Thy fellows," calling us the fellows, whom...
out of His benevolence He makes sharers in the kingdom. A Up to this point, therefore, we are not yet living; for these things are signs for the one being initiated, and certain preliminaries and preparations for life. But once he has been covered by the waters and emerges while the Trinity is invoked upon him, then the one initiated receives all that was sought, and he is born and fashioned with the daily birth and formation, as David said, and he receives the divine seal and possesses all the happiness he sought, and he who was previously darkness becomes light, and he who was nothing comes into existence, and he is made a familiar and a son to God, carried from prison and the lowest servitude to the royal throne. For this water takes away one life and brings about another; it puts to death the old man and raises up the new. This is understood most of all by those who have experienced it in the very reality of things. Furthermore, one can conjecture through all things the things that are seen in the mystery itself. For that he who enters the water conceals himself seems to mean that he is fleeing from the life that is nourished by the spirit of heaven; and to flee from life is to die. Again, that he emerges and is seen in the air and the light seems to mean that he is pursuing and has attained to life. B For this reason we also call God the Creator here, because these are the beginnings of life, and a second creation far better than the first. For the image is being drawn more precisely than before, and the statue is fashioned more expressively into the divine type and likeness; for this reason, too, it was necessary for the archetype to be proposed now more purely. For they who baptize, calling upon God at the sacred font, do not invoke Him by the name of "God," which is common to the Trinity—which is not a sufficiently theological expression, that is, it does not indicate the divinity clearly and distinctly—but naming Him more fully and perfectly, they celebrate the properties of each of the persons.
C There lies another reason. For even if the Trinity gave salvation to our race out of one benevolence, yet each of the blessed persons is said to have contributed something proper to Itself. For the Father was reconciled, the Son reconciled, and the Holy Spirit was given as a gift to those already enrolled among the friends. And the former verily delivered; the latter became the ransom by which we were delivered; the Spirit is liberty itself: "For where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty," according to the voice of Paul. And the Father formed, the Son re-formed; D "It is the Spirit that quickeneth." For in the first creation, too, the Trinity was shadowed forth. The Father, indeed, was molding; the Son was the hand to the one molding; the Paraclete was the spirit to the one breathing in life. And why do I linger over these things? For in this alone of the divine works is God distinguished. For whereas there are many merits by which God has followed His creation throughout every age, you would not find one that is referred to the Father alone, or to the Son alone, or to the Holy Spirit alone, but all things are common to the Trinity, because It does all things by one power, providence, and creation. But in the case of the
A economy, by which He restored the human race, this novelty also occurred; and while the Trinity truly willed my salvation and provided for its restoration, It did not also perform it in common. For neither the Father nor the Spirit acted by Himself, but the Word, the only-begotten, alone, He who deigned to take on flesh and blood, accepted stripes, torments, and death, and rose again, by which nature came to life again, and by which baptism, the new birth and reformation, was established. Therefore, it was necessary for those receiving this sacred formation, which alone shows God as distinct, to call upon God as person-distinct in the divine bath (that is, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit).
What then? Do we not also praise the economy, and especially in baptism? Indeed we do, not by what we say, but by what we do. For who does not see that the triple immersion and emersion manifests B and places before our eyes the three-day death of the Savior and His resurrection, which is the end of the whole economy? And not in vain, I think, do we proclaim theology by word, while we demonstrate the economy by deeds in silence. For the former was from the beginning and reached the knowledge and understanding of men by voice alone; the latter, however, occurred and was seen by the eyes of men, and endured touch and handling. Whence the blessed John, knowing both this and that to be of the twofold Savior, said indeed: “What was from the beginning, what we have heard,” C but he added: “What we have seen with our eyes, and our hands have handled, concerning the Word of life.” Moreover, one must only believe that which is theological, and the proof of faith consists in the voice (“For with the heart,” he says, “we believe unto righteousness, but with the mouth we confess unto salvation”), whereas the economy must be completely imitated and shown by deeds. For it is necessary, he says, to follow in the steps of Him who died and rose again for us.
For these reasons, therefore, the Trinity is in the voice, but the passion and death we represent through the water in the body, forming ourselves into that blessed D likeness and form. From what has been said, it is therefore evident that from all sides of those things considered regarding baptism—from the order itself, and from the names by which we call it, from the things performed and sung at it—we know that the life in Christ takes the beginning of its being from the bath. But what this very thing, the being of life, is, it would now be time to consider. Since we both lose some things and become others, and we both cast away some things and preserve others, if it is established what each of these is, it will also be evident what it is to subsist according to Christ. It is, therefore, that which is sin, and this which is justice; and that which is the old man, and this which is the new. But let us examine these things even more accurately.
A Since sin is twofold and extends to both—being that which occurs in actions, and that which consists in a habit—the action itself is sometimes not present, nor does it remain, but as soon as it is committed, it ceases to exist, just as a shaft, as soon as it is thrown, has passed by; but it leaves behind a wound for those who have performed it, the marks of wickedness, shame, and the state of being liable to justice. B But the habit, which has been implanted in the soul from wicked actions like a disease from a corrupted regimen, is permanent and binds the soul with indissoluble chains, and enslaves the mind, and works the worst of all things, leading those who have been caught into the most wicked actions, through which it was formed and which it gives birth to every time, being generated and generating in the same way, as if in a cycle. Hence it came to pass that sin is endless, as the habit gives birth to the actions, and the addition of the actions increases the habit; and so, with both evils progressing perpetually by means of one another, sin lived, but I died, since sin did not begin yesterday or recently, but from the time we were born. For as soon as Adam entrusted his own to the wicked one, and despised the good Lord, and became distorted and perverse in his will, and the soul lost that health and good state, the body also followed the same path, and accommodating itself to it, like an instrument in the hand of a craftsman, was simultaneously corrupted. For the soul conspires with the body because of their very close union. A sign of this is as follows: even the body blushes when the soul is ashamed, and it wastes away when the soul is besieged by anxieties. C Since, however, nature proceeded and the race advanced, spreading from that first body and propagating itself through the bodies of descendants, wickedness was also infused into them, as if it were something natural. But because the body is not only afflicted by the movements of the soul, but also communicates its own to it (for the soul rejoices and sorrows together with it; and there are those who are temperate and noble-minded because the body is so affected and constituted), it followed that each one’s soul also inherited the wickedness of the first Adam, passing from his soul to his body, then from his body to the bodies of his descendants, and from their bodies coming to their souls. D And this is the old man, whom, as a seedbed of wickedness, we received from our first parents; and upon being brought into the light with him, we have not seen a single day free from sin, nor have we drawn breath free from wickedness, but, as the Prophet says, "We have been alienated from the womb, we have gone astray from the belly," having not only stood by that unhappy inheritance of ancestral sin, nor having been satisfied with the evils we inherited, but having added so strongly to the wickedness and increased the evil riches, that we have obscured the former (evils) with the latter, and have proved ourselves much worse than the examples themselves. And the greatest thing of all, for there was no intervening break in the evil, but
A there was no respite from this malady, which is perhaps the reason why the human race could in no way heal itself: because it had tasted of freedom almost never, and because it had no experience of it, it could not come to desire it, nor could it wish to attain it, nor could it rise up against its tyranny.
From these most bitter chains, from this affliction, from this disease, from this death, the laver delivers us; and it does so as easily as to require no time, and so completely and perfectly that not even a trace is left behind; and it delivers us not only from wickedness, but also provides the contrary habit. For the Master Himself, by the things through which He died, gave us the authority to put sin to death, and by the things through which He rose again, He made us heirs of the new life. For that death, insofar as it is death, kills the wicked life, and insofar as it is justice, it resolves the punishments of the sins to which each of us was liable B because of the perversity of our deeds.
And in this way, the laver renders us pure from all habit and activity of sin, insofar as it makes us participants in this life-giving death. And since through the laver we also share in the resurrection, Christ grants us another life, and fashions members and implants faculties which will be necessary for those who have arrived at the life to come. For this reason I am released from my crimes at once and attain health immediately, especially because it is the work of God alone, who cannot be bound by time and delay. Furthermore, He does not perform this benefit for our race now in such a way that He requires time, but He has performed it already. For the Master is not now paying the penalty for the things we have sinned, nor is He now preparing the medicine and fashioning members and C putting in faculties, but He has already fashioned and implanted and prepared them. For from the moment He ascended the cross and died and rose again, the freedom of men was established, and the form and beauty were restored, and the new members were adorned. Now it is necessary only to approach and offer ourselves to the graces; and this is what the laver can do for us: to join the dead to life, the bound to freedom, the corrupted to the blessed form. The ransom was paid; now we only emerge from our bonds. The ointment has been poured out, and the fragrance of its scent has filled all places; it remains only for us to breathe it. Or rather, not even that: for the ability to breathe, like the ability to be released and the ability to be illuminated, has also been provided for us by the Savior. For the light did not merely rise and enter the world, but it also created the eye to see it; and He did not merely pour out the ointment, but He also gave the sense to perceive it. Now this holy laver binds those who are washed to these senses and faculties. For just D as we, being without form and shapeless, are plunged into the water, we encounter in it that beautiful form.
For all these reasons, all good things arise for us immediately; for they were prepared beforehand: "My banquet Wait, my bulls and fattened beasts, he says, are slaughtered and everything is ready, come to...
A oxen and my fatlings are killed," he says, "and all things are ready; come to the marriage." This alone remains for the feast, that those who have been invited should encounter it; but when they have encountered it, what else will be needed for happiness? Nothing at all. For in the age to come we approach Christ having already made preparation; but now we make preparation after we have approached. For then, it is necessary to approach having everything, but in the present it is necessary that, having approached, we receive everything. For this reason, in that time the bridal chamber is not accessible to the foolish virgins, but in the present age he calls the foolish to the banquet and the conviviality. For then it is not possible for the dead to revive, or the blind to see, or the deformed to be fashioned and refashioned, but in this life only the will and the readiness of mind are required, and all things follow. For he says, "I have come into the world that they may have life," and, "The light has come into the world." And this is of his ineffable philanthropy, that having worked everything through which I was loosed from my calamities, he left something to be brought by us in freedom—namely, the act of believing in the baptism for our salvation and the will to approach—so that from these things the whole B may be reckoned to us, and he may owe us the grace of the merits he has conferred upon us. Therefore, when we die immediately after being washed, bringing nothing with us except the seal, he calls us to the crowns just as if we had contended for this kingdom.
C What the evils are, therefore, and how baptism rouses the soul from them, is clear from what has been said. But since it also provides a certain life through him who rose again, let us inquire what this life is. It is reasonable to assume that it is not that which we previously lived, but one better and proper to our nature. For if we were still living the former one, what need would there even be to die? But if it were another capable of the same things, that would not be rising again. And if it were an angelic life, what would we have in common with them? For it is man that fell; yet if the one rising again were to be an angel, that would not be the restoration of man. It would be similar to taking a shattered statue and not placing D a human likeness upon it, but a different appearance upon the bronze; for this would be creating something else, not restoring the statue. For this reason, it follows that this life must be human, and new, and better than the former—and all these things are found only in the life of the Savior. For it is new, since it has nothing in common with the old; and better, to a degree that cannot be grasped by the mind; for it is the life of God. And it is proper to our nature, since it was the life of a man, and he who lived it, as he was God, so was he also a true man, and because of his human nature was free from all sin. For this reason, it is clearly necessary that the life of Christ should dawn upon us as we are reborn, and for this reason we depart from that water without sin. And this is also made clear from what follows. For the...
A generation in baptism is the beginning of the future life, and the acquisition of new members and faculties, and a preparation for that heavenly life. We are prepared for that future life in no other way than by beginning here the life of Christ, who became the father of the world to come, just as Adam was of the present age; for he was the leader of humanity in the life that is subject to decay. For just as it is not possible to live this human life unless one has received the senses of Adam and these human vital faculties, in the same way, no one among the living can reach that blessed world who has not beforehand prepared himself for it by the life of Christ, and has not been formed according to his form and image. Besides, baptism is a generation; he generates, and we are generated. And it is acknowledged that the life of the one generated is similar to the life of the one generating.
B Here, however, someone might wonder. For not only those who have been washed, but even those who have not had the opportunity to prepare themselves for the immortal life by the power of the sacraments, and simply all humans, will receive bodies that do not grow old and will rise incorruptible. For it is a matter of wonder that those who have not received the washing—by which we share in the death that gives life—should be participants in that resurrection which the death of Christ alone brought into the world. For if they fled from the physician, and turned away from his help, and rejected the medicine that alone could have profited them, what remained which might assist them toward immortality? For it seems reasonable and consistent that one of two things must happen: either that everyone should subsequently enjoy everything of which Christ became the cause for us by dying—and rise again, and live with him, C and reign with him, and abound in the rest of his blessedness, if indeed he does not need anything from us—or, if it were necessary that we too should contribute something, those who have not brought faith to the Savior should not even be brought back to life.
It is possible, however, to respond to this objection. The resurrection is a restoration of nature. And such things God gives freely. For just as he fashions those who do not wish it, so too he refashions those who contribute nothing toward it. But that kingdom, and the contemplation of God, and being with Christ, are delights of the will. Therefore, they are granted only D to those who have willed it, and loved it, and desired it. For it is right that those should be delighted by the present things who have longed for them in their absence. But for those who did not desire them, it is impossible to enjoy them. For how could one take pleasure and rejoice in things now present, whom no desire for them touched when they were absent? Since then he cannot even desire them, or strive to obtain them, because he does not behold that beauty; and as the Lord says, "whom the world cannot receive, because it does not see him nor know him." When one who has departed hence as a blind man arrives in that life, and is deprived of every faculty and power [index: entries preserved]
A of perception, through which it is permitted to both know the Savior, and to love, and to will, and to be able to live with Him, it ought to be a wonder to no one if all indeed are to live immortally, but not all are to live happily and blessedly. For all, without discrimination and equally, experience the divine providence over nature; but of the gifts that adorn the will, only they among all men experience them who have worshiped God piously and holily: for it is certain that God wishes all good things for all, and shares His own things equally with all, both through those things by which He confers benefits by His will, and through those by which He restores and renews nature. But as for the benefits of God toward our nature, since we cannot escape them, all men are affected by them, even if against their will. For He confers benefits even on those who are unwilling, and compels them humanely, when we indeed wish to ward off His beneficence, but cannot.
C In this category let us count the gift of the resurrection. For it is not within our judgment B or control either to be born in the beginning, nor to be raised from the dead, or not to be raised. But those things which depend upon human will—I mean the choosing of the good, the remission of sins, the correction of morals, the purity of the soul, the love for God—the reward for these is supreme beatitude. And it is in our power to embrace these or to avoid them. Whence for those who are willing, it is at hand to enjoy them; but for those who are unwilling, how could it come about that they should enjoy them? For it is not possible for those who are unwilling to will, nor are those who are willing forced.
And then for the following reason as well: since the Lord alone delivered nature from corruption, and the soul from sin—the former by becoming the firstborn of the dead, the latter by entering first for our sake into the Holy of Holies, inasmuch as He slew sin and reconciled God to us and tore down the middle wall and sanctified Himself for our sake, that we also might be sanctified in truth—it is clear that they alone would properly be delivered from both corruption and sin who have been joined to Him both by will and by nature: D the latter, in that they are men; the former, in that they have loved His advent and passion and have obeyed His commandments and have willed what He willed. As for the others, they possess the one, but did not receive the other; and it befell them to be in the number of men, but to entrust their salvation to the Savior, and to communicate with Him who is good in mind and will, this did not befall them. It is consistent with their judgment, as they are at variance in will and intention, that they should be deprived of the remission of sins and the crown of justice, and should lose the other liberty; yet there is no impediment to their also rising again from the sepulchers, since they possess the same nature as Christ. For Baptism is the cause only of the blessed life in Christ, not of life itself; for the death and resurrection of Christ simply provided immortal life for all equally. Therefore, the resurrection is a common gift to all men, but the remission of sins and the crowns in the heavens and the kingdom of heaven are granted only to those to whom it was granted to provide the due completion beforehand; who prepare themselves from hence, so as to be properly disposed toward that life and the Bridegroom, being born anew, because He is the new Adam,
A shining with beauty and preserving the bloom that the bath has produced for them, because "He is fairer in beauty than the sons of men." And having their head erect, like that of the Olympic victors, because He is the crown; and ears, because He is the Word; and eyes, because He is the sun; and a sense of smell, because the Bridegroom is also myrrh and poured-out ointment; and being decorous in their garments because of the wedding.
Enough. These things also lead to another question, which it is right not to overlook. For if desiring and believing and approaching makes one attain the gifts of baptism, and avoiding these is avoiding all that blessedness, then for those who, after receiving, have cast them away and have condemned themselves for their former resolve and denied Christ, but then—repenting of the things in which they transgressed—flock to the Church, since it follows that one should lead them to the bath and perform the mysteries from the beginning, as if they had lost everything, yet the priest, by the authority of ecclesiastical law, restores them to the order of the faithful by anointing their bodies only with the holy oil, without any other rite—what is to be answered to this? B Or, since these two things constitute our piety toward God—both to have received the eye from the mysteries, and to have the use of it and to look toward that ray—does one of them perish for those who have betrayed Christianity, while the other remains; I mean, the habit and facility for seeing?
The cause is this: that it is permissible for those who wish to destroy the former, since it is within our own choice either to delight in viewing the light of the sun or to close the eye against its ray; but to gouge out the eye itself, and to corrupt that structure completely, is for us excessively difficult. For if we are able to destroy none of the faculties of the soul with which nature has brought us into being, C least of all shall we be able to destroy that which God Himself, when regenerating us, placed into us directly. For even that which holds the rule within us—whatever it may be—the bath fashions and arranges: whether one must consider this to be the autonomy of reason and mind, or whatever else it may be, to which every virtue of the soul yields and accommodates itself to its motion, which nothing commands, and which can be changed by nothing—but it does not even change itself; for nothing could become better than itself—and it is not reasonable for it to be changed by God. For He would not take away any of the gifts He has placed in us; for "the gifts of God," he says, "are without repentance." D And being altogether infinite in goodness, He wills every good for us, and indeed gives it, while the prerogative of free will remains underlying it.
Such is the good of baptism. For it does not constrain the mind nor oppress it, but being a power and a faculty, it benefits those who use it; it does not forbid those who do not use it from remaining wicked, just as having a healthy eye will not be a hindrance to those who wish to walk in darkness. And it is clear from this, for these very people are clear witnesses, who, after having been washed and having received all the things from it, were carried away into the utmost impiety and wickedness. For these reasons, therefore, to the one who does not...
cast off the faculties granted by the second formation—as he is in no need of being washed again—the priest does not wash him, but by anointing him, he imparts a spiritual grace of piety, I think, and of the fear of God and of love, and of virtues of such a kind, which have the power to recall the will and the senses to their original state; for such is the power that the chrism has upon those being initiated. And so much for these things; let us now proceed to what follows. A
It is therefore evident from what has been said that those who have been born again through baptism live the life of Christ. But what is the life of Christ? I mean, what is that passion in which those who have been washed and have enjoyed baptism participate with Christ? It has not yet become clear; but the greatest part of this is beyond human speech. For it is a power of the future age, as Paul says, and a preparation for another life. Just as, therefore, it is not possible to discern the virtue of the eyes or the grace of color unless light is added, nor can those who are asleep know the things of those who are awake so long as they sleep, in the same way, neither can the new members and faculties, which are required solely for the future life, be known in this life for what they truly are, or what beauty is in them; for there is need of a kindred beauty and a corresponding light. Yet we are members of Christ, and this is the work of baptism. B The splendor of the members and their beauty consists in the Head; for the members would not appear beautiful if they were not joined to the Head. But the Head of these members is hidden at present, and will appear in the future life: then also the members will shine and be revealed, since they exist with the Head. The Apostle, signifying this, says: "For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. But when Christ, who is your life, shall appear, then you also will appear with him in glory." And the blessed John says: "It has not yet appeared what we shall be; but when he appears, we shall be like him." For these reasons, it is not possible even for the saints themselves to know the power of this life perfectly at present; but they confess that they are ignorant of the greatest part, and say that they know only in an enigma, and in a glass, and in part. And even those things which they are able to know, they cannot even express in words. Those of pure heart perceive and know them. But that it is impossible to find words or speech opportune for expressing the things that are known, this itself is a certain sign for those who are ignorant of that blessed state. For there are things which the Apostle heard when he was caught up into paradise and the third heaven: "unspeakable words," he says, "which it is not lawful for a man to utter." But what is known and can be spoken of that life, and what the appearances demonstrate, are, to be sure, the things that are accomplished with virtue by those who have been initiated: the new character of those who have been washed, who keep their station; the unusual virtue, and that which is superior to human laws, of which neither wisdom, nor exercise, nor talent,
nor any other thing of human origin can be blamed. For the soul, on the one hand, was emboldened toward such things as it is not even easy for men to imagine; and the body, on the other hand, did not quench this enthusiasm, but endured as many labors as the soul desired. And yet, the power of both soul and body is limited, and it is impossible for either the one or the other to stand against every trial; but there are some who, having been able to overcome in other matters, have in one case given up, and in the other have been undone. But none of these things overcame those blessed A souls and bodies; rather, they endured as many forms and quantities of pain as no calculation of the mind could even devise, and they persevered through such things. And I do not yet mention that which is most novel: that they did not even merely endure or persevere. For they did not cast aside the present life in the hope of other greater things and a better life, approaching this daring deed by some judgment and reasoning—for while they did suffer, it was not willingly, just as sick men endure the fire and the blade of physicians. But this is the most novel thing of all: that some loved the wounds themselves, sought out the labors themselves, and deemed death itself desirable, even though no necessity of dying was set before them. For some desired swords, B and tortures, and death, and when they reached the experience of them, their enthusiasm was greater; while others chose to live a hard life, to labor, and to live far from every relaxation, and to consider this daily dying as their nourishment. And the body followed and helped those who were struggling against the laws of the body. And these were not just two or three or twenty, nor only men, nor only those of a certain age, but ten thousand, and a multitude greater than number, and of every age alike. C This was manifested most clearly in the martyrs. For among them were those who were faithful even before the persecutions, and those into whom Christ planted the true life during the very persecutions; and at the same time they showed to their persecutors their faith in Christ, and proclaimed His name, and desired to die, and with one and the same shout challenged the executioners, as if hastening toward some presented good; and women and maidens, and men and children, and every occupation and every way of life were carried along in the same way. For this too must be added, because this also introduces no small difference to the race. For he who lives in sweat and he whose life is at ease would not approach contests and labors in the same way; D and a soldier and a flute-player would not look upon the sword and death with the same eyes. Nothing of these things hindered that admirable fervor, nor did it stand in the way of everyone attaining the summit of philosophy just as much, but because one was the power that gives birth to and forms all, all attained the final limit of virtue, and they honored and loved that Good [God] beyond what was connatural to nature; for they despised even their own souls for His sake. For even women of the stage, and most abandoned men, and a dregs of men of this sort, received the word of our common salvation and took on a different life and different ways, adapted to a beautiful harmony, and thus suddenly and thus easily, just as...
it happened for many who were not washed at all to be brought into this choir—those whom the Church had not baptized with water, the Bridegroom of the Church baptized Himself. For many He gave a cloud from heaven and water gushing forth from the earth automatically, and thus He baptized them, while the rest He refashioned invisibly. For just as the lack in Christ is filled by the members of the Church—by Paul and whoever is like him—so it is not at all out of place if the Head of the Church fills the lack in the Church. For if there are some members that seem to help the head, how much more just is it for the B Head Himself to add what is wanting to the members? And these matters may be considered after this fashion. We must, however, return to our argument. It is not necessary to use words to demonstrate that this power, by which they dared such things, and by which they brought such alacrity and magnanimous ventures to their end, is not to be found in the nature of human beings; but since it is necessary to attribute the cause of these things to the grace of baptism, let us now inquire into the manner of how the bath wrought these things in them.
It is manifest, therefore, that those labors and struggles were those of lovers, and that the darts and charms of Christ impelled them toward this newness of life. But what is the cause of their love, and what did they suffer that they loved so deeply, and from where did they receive the fire—this we must now examine. For knowledge begets and creates love; and you cannot love anything beautiful unless you have first learned how beautiful it is. And since this knowledge happens both perfectly and fully, as well as imperfectly, it is reasonable that love should also share in the same condition. Things that are beautiful and good, which are fully known, are also fully loved, in a manner befitting such great beauty; but those things that are not very well known to the lovers—their love for them is weak. C Therefore, this much becomes clear: the bath instilled in them some knowledge of God and a perception of Him, and they clearly recognized the Good, and perceived its beauty, and tasted of His goodness—by experience, I say, more perfectly than any teaching could present to those who are learning.
For since the knowledge of things is twofold—the one which a person acquires by hearsay, and the other which he attains for himself—in the former way we do not touch the thing itself, but rather we see it in words, as in a kind of image, though not accurately; we do not see it in the representation or effigy of the "form" (eidos) itself. For it is impossible to find in the nature of things anything entirely similar to it, which might suffice as an example for the knowledge of it. But to have experienced a thing is to have encountered the realities themselves. Hence, the "form" (eidos) itself rushes into the soul and excites desire, just as a footprint corresponds to the beauty [of the one who left it]. In the other case, however, being deprived of the very idea peculiar to the thing itself, and having obtained only a dark and faint image of it from the qualities which it shares with other things, we measure our longing for the object by this; wherefore we do not love as much as that object is lovable, nor do we feel as much as that object is capable of causing, since we have not tasted the "form" itself. For just as D the specific form of the essence of each thing...
produces a different quality in the soul, so too does love. A If, therefore, the charity of the Savior has brought forth nothing new or greatly to be admired in us, it is sufficiently evident that we have possessed only the mere words concerning him—from which, how could one truly come to know him, to whom nothing is similar to be found, nor anything common to him and others, nor is there a model to which he might be compared, nor of whom he might be a model? And how can we perceive his goodness, and love him as his goodness deserves? B But those in whom such a passion has been enkindled, so that they have stood outside the boundaries of nature and have both studied to accomplish—and have been able to—things greater than it is permitted for humans to conceive, these the Bridegroom himself has wounded, he himself has cast a ray of his beauty into their eyes. For the weapon declares the magnitude of the wound, and love reveals the one who wounds. And in this the New Testament differs from the Old, and possesses this better quality: that then indeed there were words to instruct, but now Christ himself is present, and in an ineffable way fashions and molds the souls of men. For by word, doctrine, and laws, C it was not possible for men to reach the goal they sought. For if words had been sufficient, there would have been no need for deeds, and those truly transcendent ones: God incarnate, crucified, and dead. And this was clear from the beginning to the apostles themselves, the founders of our religion. For although they had been filled and fed with every doctrine, and indeed with that of the Savior himself, and had become spectators of all his actions, miracles, and the benefits he bestowed upon our nature, and had seen the things he endured for the sake of humanity, and how, having died, he rose again, and how he had ascended into heaven; having learned all these things, I say, they nevertheless exhibited nothing new, nor noble, nor spiritual, nor better than the old state, D until they were baptized. For when baptism had occurred for them, and the Paraclete had descended upon their souls, they themselves became new, and apprehended a new life, and showed themselves as guides in it to others, and enkindled the love of Christ both in themselves and in others. For although they were with the Sun and shared in his life and words, yet, being still devoid of the spiritual laver, they did not feel the ray. In this same way God has perfected all the saints who followed, and they have known him and loved him, not lured by mere words, but prepared by the power of the laver, being fashioned and adapted by him who is loved, who creates a clean heart, and takes away the stony one, and replaces it with a heart of flesh, casting out numbness. And indeed he writes, but as Paul says, "not on tables of stone, but on fleshy tables of the heart," and not the law simply, but the Lawgiver himself, he himself, his own self. This has been most clearly perceived in many of the saints, whom neither the truth learned by words, nor the power of the hidden one recognized through miracles, could suddenly demonstrate as most illustrious Christians, until they had received the laver. Beatus Porphyrius, therefore, living in those times when the law of Christ was subduing the entire world, and all mortals were hearing the voice of the preachers
eceived the laver. Beatus Porphyrius, therefore, living in those times when the law of Christ was subduing the entire world, and all mortals were hearing the voice of the preachers, and trophies were being erected everywhere through A martyrdoms that gave testimony to the true divinity of Christ more clearly than speech itself, having heard ten thousand words and having been a spectator of so many heroes and miracles, nevertheless remained in error, preferring falsehood to the truth. But after he was baptized—and that in mockery—he was not only immediately transformed into a Christian, but he also joined the very choir of the martyrs. For as he was a mime and made this his trade, he dared this act of boldness as well, as if to provoke laughter; he made sport of the laver and baptized himself in water, calling out the Trinity as he descended in the theater. And those to whom the drama was being presented raised a shout of laughter; but for him, what was passing was no longer ridiculous nor theatrical, but was in truth a birth and a re-formation, and the very mystery itself B. For he emerged having, instead of a [mime's] soul, a soul of martyrdom, a body noble and trained as if for philosophy and labors, and a tongue that would provoke the wrath of a tyrant instead of laughter. And thus he became earnest, he who had acted out playful things throughout his life, and he applied such zeal for the sake of Christ that, exhausted by many tortures, he died willingly, so as not to betray with his tongue the one whom he loved.
Thus, too, did Gelasius love Christ and recognize Him in this manner. And as it seems, both approached Him with hostile and inimical mind. But after He who was being attacked opened the eye of the soul for him and demonstrated His own beauty, he was immediately struck with wonder at His goodness, and he displayed a very different disposition, and from an enemy, he became a most dear friend. For that love was an ecstasy, because it placed those taken by it outside the bounds of human [experience]. And the prophet, teaching this, says: "As many were astonished at thee" (when he addresses Christ regarding His cross and death), "so shall thy appearance be inglorious among men, and thy beauty among the sons of men" C.
Now that famous Ardalion, he too was baptized for the sake of another bit of play-acting, with which he was pleasantly refreshing the spectators. For he was a comedian, and he provided such pleasures for those who gathered to watch. But he was baptized, not by symbols nor by images imitating the suffering of the Savior, but with the realities themselves. For he imitated well the beautiful confession and the endurance of the martyrs, and he was suspended naked upon the wood while playing a part before those who were playing theirs. But when he confessed Christ and felt the blows, by a sudden change his soul conspired with his voice, and his mind truly embraced what was being feigned; and he was in all respects what he had called himself in jest—a Christian. And from the blows of the players and a feigned voice, such a work followed, and when he affirmed that he loved Christ, he was immediately loving Him at that same moment of time, with love like fire breathDing from his mouth upon his heart. And while for others what is good comes from the good treasure of the heart to the mouth, for Ardalion the treasure
A of the heavenly stream came through his mouth into his heart. O the inexpressible power of Christ! For it was not by benefits, nor by the sharing of crowns, nor even by attaching him to good hopes, that He won him over; but by receiving him as a partner in scourges and dishonor, He thus captured and enthralled him, so that He persuaded him to accept what previously he could not even bear to hear. He suddenly broke him away from a habit which long passage of time had forged and confirmed, and transferred his mind to a state completely and utterly the opposite, shifting him from what was of all things the most base and wicked to the best of all. For there can be found nothing more depraved than a mime, nor more wise than a martyr. What is common to these? And if we look at nature, how does it hold together that stripes and ignominy should beget love, and that the very things for which even a believer would seem right to renounce Christianity should be the means by which He makes a captive of his enemy and brings under subjection the one to whom He was an enemy? For who, having suffered persecution, could be pleased, and persuade those in whose hatred his enemy had previously exercised himself to love, and prepare him to become a friend and eager follower instead of an arch-enemy and pursuer? B
Be that as it may. To this point, then, the word of teaching appears to have achieved nothing; the entire work was done by the power of baptism. For Ardalion had indeed heard the words of our common salvation, and he had seen the miracles of many martyrs in his own time who very freely proclaimed themselves Christians; but he remained nonetheless blind and an adversary to the light, until he had received the marks of Christ and, having confessed the good confession, was baptized. For this is the goal of baptism: to imitate the testimony of Christ before Pilate and the remarkable patience He displayed even unto the cross and death; and to imitate [Him] through these sacred images and symbols, and also, when time calls, through the actual events themselves, braving the danger of death to manifest one's religion. For among the many medicines devised throughout all time for our ailing race, only the death of Christ was able to bring true life C and good health. And for this reason, to be born by the new birth, to live the blessed life, and to be disposed toward health is nothing other than to drink this medicine and, as far as is possible for men, to profess the confession, to endure torments, and to undergo death. This is the efficacy of the new law; thus a Christian is generated; and in this way he arrives at the wonderful philosophy, devoted to the best works, and guarding an immovable faith—not compelled to faith by demonstrations, nor establishing his conduct driven by laws, but moved by the power of God, receiving both this and that, and through both putting on the sacrosanct image of Christ. "For the kingdom of God," He says, "is not in word, but in power" (1 Cor. iv, 20); and, "The word of the cross is to us who are being saved the power of God" (1 Cor. i, 18). For this reason this law is also spiritual, because the Spirit works everything: that other was written, since it was of letters and sounds
A of the Spirit accomplishes all things; but that man was written, in that he stopped at letters and sounds, the sign and image of which are those things, while the present things are the reality and the truth. For words and letters have the relation of an image to the very being of things; these, before they came into action, God signified many ages before through the tongue of the prophets: "I will make," he says, "a new covenant, not according to the covenant which I made with your fathers." But what is this? "This," he says, "is the covenant which I will make with the house of Israel and the house of Judah; I will put my laws into their minds and write them in their hearts," not regulating them by a voice, but the Lawgiver himself directly. "For they shall no longer teach," he says, "each his brother, and each his neighbor, saying, 'Know the Lord,' because all shall know me, from the least of them to the greatest." Having attained this law, David also uttered that blessed voice: "For I have known that the Lord is great." I have known, he says, having obtained the experience myself, not having heard it from others teaching it; whence, leading others to the same, he says, "Taste and see that the Lord is good." And yet the blessed one celebrated the goodness of God in many and various discourses; but as if words are unable to equal the thing itself, he provokes his hearers to the experience of those things which are praised in God.
This experience the sacred fountain inserts into the souls of the baptized, and C it makes known the Creator to the creature, the truth to the mind, and to the desire the only Desirable One. For this reason the longing is also great, and the love ineffable, and the charity altogether singular: because there is no lack, and all things are consistent, and nothing is discordant, and above all this is every excellence. Let us consider it thus. God has implanted desire in souls; if we are to attain that good, and if truth is to be understood, we desire both of these as altogether pure—the good apart from evil, and the truth apart from falsehood. For no one who is deceived rejoices, nor would he find pleasure in being led into error and falling into evil instead of good. For those who desire these, there has never yet been the opportunity to attain them purely; but the good and the true that is among us is not this, which is called so, any more than its opposite. Whence it becomes D clear that neither the force of charity nor that of joy is found in us to be as great as it would be found if that which we ought to love and in which we ought to rejoice were present. Nor is the string of love known, nor the magnitude of that fire; because what is loved is nowhere. But to those who have tasted the Savior, that very thing which they desire is present, toward whom human love was prepared from the beginning as to a certain canon and end: like a treasure so great, so wide, that it is able to contain God. For this reason also, all good things are attained in life. No satiety intervenes, nor does anything define the desire, but we still thirst, as if we did not possess any of the things we desired,
- A B C D ent, as if we had obtained nothing of what was desired. For the thirst of human souls requires a certain infinite water; and how could this finite world possibly suffice for it? And this is what the Lord hints at to the Samaritan woman, saying: "Everyone who drinks of this water will thirst again; but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never thirst for ever." For this is the water that stills the desire of human souls. "I shall be satisfied," He says, "when Thy glory appears." For the eye is indeed fashioned so as to suffice for receiving light, and the ear for sounds, and each thing for that which is suitable to it; but the desire of the soul is set only upon Christ. And this is its resting-place, because He alone is both the Good and the Truth and whatever else is an object of love. For this reason, He prevents those who happen upon these things from loving anything, in proportion to the love that was implanted in souls from the beginning, and from rejoicing as much as nature is able to rejoice, and whatever virtue and the water of regeneration have added to them. For in the case of the goods of this life, which falsely bear the name, neither love nor joy can flourish. For even if something seems good, it is an empty image of the true Good. But here, since there is nothing to hinder, an admirable and ineffable love and charity—which no one could describe in words—are manifested. Especially since God himself has established both of these affections toward Himself, so that we may love Him and rejoice in Him alone. And it is consistent, I think, to maintain a certain logic toward that infinite good, and to say that this, in short, is the manner of it.
Let us consider, therefore, how great is its magnitude; then, let us also consider that sign of its excellence. For of all the goods He has provided for us, He considers love to be the only recompense; and if He receives this from us, He clears the debt. Therefore, if it is a counterweight to infinite goods before God the Judge, how can it not be excellent? And clearly, joy is altogether equal in greatness to charity, and pleasure is in all things joined to love, and the greatest joy accompanies the greatest love. It is evident, therefore, that a certain great and admirable preparation of charity and joy is stored up for human souls, and that when the truly beautiful and beloved One is present, it is most perfectly active. And this is what the Savior calls a "full" joy. "Ask," He says, "and you will receive, that your joy may be full." For this reason, when the Spirit also came and brought His own gifts, charity and joy took the first place among the fruits arising thence. "For the fruit of the Spirit," He says, "is joy, [and] charity." The reason is that God, in coming, provides this first sense of Himself to souls. For those who perceive that Good must necessarily love and rejoice; since, even when He appeared physically to men, this was the first thing He demanded of us: the recognition of Himself. This He taught, and this He introduced immediately; or rather, it was for this reason that He descended even to the level of sense, and for this...
reason He said that He came into the world, "that He might bear witness to the truth." A And yet He was the truth Himself, saying, as it were, "That I might manifest Myself." This He does even now, drawing near to those who are baptized and bearing witness to the truth, casting out the mere appearance of good, introducing the truth in its place, and pre-showing it, and, as He says, manifesting Himself to them.
That this is true—that those baptized in this bath experience God in a certain way—is clear, as I have mentioned, from the things themselves. But if testimonies are also needed, since there are many lovers of God who have had great power with Him who might bear witness, it will suffice to take one in place of all: John, who has a soul brighter than a sunbeam and a tongue more splendid than gold. We must recite the very words of this tongue. B "But what is it, 'Beholding the glory of the Lord, we are transformed into the same image'? This was demonstrated more clearly when the gifts of signs were working in the apostles. Though it will not be difficult to perceive this even now, for one who has faithful eyes. For at the same time as we are baptized, the soul shines brighter than the sun, being cleansed by the Spirit. And not only do we gaze upon the glory of God, but we also receive from it a certain splendor; just as if pure silver, when placed toward the rays of the sun, gives off rays itself, not only from its own nature but also from the brilliance of the sun, so too the soul, being cleansed and becoming brighter than any silver, receives a beam from the glory of the Spirit into the glory that is born within, of such a kind as is fitting to be born from the Lord the Spirit." And after a few words: C "Do you wish me to show you this from the apostles, more perceptibly? Consider Paul, whose very garments were active; consider Peter, whose shadow even had power. For they would not have had such power in their garments and shadows if they did not bear the image of the King, and if their own radiance were not unapproachable; for the King’s garments are formidable even to robbers. Do you wish to see this glory shining also through the body? 'Looking steadfastly,' it says, 'at the face of Stephen, they saw it as the face of an angel.' But this is nothing compared to the glory flashing within; for what Moses had on his face at that time, these men carried on their souls, and indeed much more. For the glory of Moses was more perceptible to the senses, D while this is incorporeal. And just as bodies catch fire from splendid bodies, shedding their light upon things nearby and sharing in their own light, so it happens also with the faithful. For this reason, those to whom this happens are withdrawn from the earth, and they dream of things in the heavens. Woe is me! For it is good to groan bitterly even here, because while we enjoy such nobility, we do not even understand what is said, because the realities perish for us so quickly and we are distracted by sensible things. For this glory is unreachable and terrible, until one—
A continues to remain in us for a day or two. But now we even extinguish that, bringing in the winter of worldly affairs and driving away the rays with the density of the clouds.
Therefore, it is not permitted for the baptized to know God only as far as thought, estimation, and faith, but it is possible to find in these waters something even greater and closer to the reality. For to maintain that this lightning is the knowledge of God in the mind and to think it is a kind of illumination by the Word B would not seem to have any reason to stand, since it happens that this slips away after one or two days, with crowds and disturbances pouring over the initiates; yet there is no one who, for having applied diligence, has been ignorant of the faith, even in such a short time. But it is possible to hold the realities and to know how to discourse on divine things, and what is greater, to be subject to wicked passions and yet not be ignorant of the reason for salvation and true philosophy. Thus it is clear that these are a certain immediate perception of God, invisibly touching the soul itself from the ray that proceeds from thence. The symbols of this ray are those which are seen in baptism. For all things are filled with splendor, lamps, odes, choirs, triumphs, nothing C that is not cheerful. The garment is entirely shining and prepared for the vision of light. That which covers the head also has the Spirit depicted upon it, and bears a figure by which his advent is more obscurely indicated. For it is similar to a tongue, just as the head is able to bear a garment and to carry the form in which the Spirit was seen baptizing the apostles from the beginning. Since this also occupied that part of their body at that time, and it was possible to see fire upon the head of each in the shape of a tongue, so that, if I am not mistaken, by the appearance of the tongue he might indicate the occasion and cause of the descent: that he was coming to interpret the Word coeternal with himself, and to teach the ignorant. For this is the function of the tongue, which brings forth what is inside, being the messenger of the invisible motions of the mind. For this one indeed proclaims the one who generated him, and the Spirit proclaims the one generated: "I," he says to the Father, "glorified thee [*]; and he will glorify me [**]," meaning the Paraclete. For this reason, then, he presented himself to them in this figure. But the symbol leads our thought to that miracle and that happy day which first saw the installment of the promised baptism, so that we may know how those to whom the Spirit first came D communicated it to those who followed, and these to their successors, and thus, progressing, it came to us; and the gift will not fail until the Giver himself comes to us manifestly. Then, therefore, the Lord will offer the blessed ones a pure perception of himself, when the things that now intervene and obstruct the lights have been removed. But now, as is possible for those covered by the thickness of the flesh, they perceive the inexplicable joy of this perception and the signal fruit of charity, in whose power is the magnitude of rightly-done deeds and the marvelous demonstration of works, and who, with victories and crowns, go through all things. For, armed with these weapons, they are overcome by neither terrible nor pleasant things. For [their] joy [*] John 17:4. [**] John 16:14.
overpowers the painful, and pleasant things have no power to lure or to loosen those who are so strongly bound together by these affections. This is the work of baptism: to absolve from sins, A to reconcile God to man, to adopt man to God, to open the eye to souls, to let them taste the divine ray, and, to speak all at once, to prepare them for the life to come. Therefore, we do rightly when we give it the name of "generation" and bestow upon it titles that carry the same meaning. And finally, it causes the knowledge of God to arise in the souls of those being initiated, which is life, the foundation, the root of life; partly, as the Savior himself affirms, that eternal life consists in knowing the only true God and him whom He sent, Jesus Christ, and partly, as Solomon says to God: "To know Thee is the root of immortality." But if it is necessary to add reason as well, who does not know that the true essence and excellence of human beings is situated in this very thing: in reasoning and knowing? B If this is so, then it must surely be found in the best of all knowledge, and that which is free from falsehood. But what knowledge could be better, and purer from all error, than the knowledge of God—God Himself, who opens the eye of the soul and turns it toward Himself? This is the fruit of baptism.
It has been shown, therefore, through all that has been said, that the mystery of baptism is the cause of the life in Christ, of the essence and life of men, and of [their] excellence according to the true life. But if these things are not seen in all who are baptized, the mystery is not immediately to be condemned for weakness; rather, the fault for the loss must be attributed to the initiates, who either were not well prepared for the grace or have betrayed the treasure. C For how much more just is it to attribute this difference to the initiates themselves, who have used the baptism in a different way, than to accuse the initiation itself, which is one and the same in all? For it is certain that this accumulation of the aforementioned good things is the work neither of nature nor of training, but of baptism. Now, if the contrary also comes from it, how is it not absurd that the same thing should be able to illuminate and not be able, and to make [men] heavenly and yet no higher than earthly things? But we will neither blame the sun, nor pronounce it to be dim, because not all behold its ray; rather, we shall gather our evidence from those who do behold it. D Nor would we be acting rightly if we were to think that the illumination can do anything other than this very thing from which it is named.
ON THE LIFE IN CHRIST, BOOK III
What benefit the sacred ointment, or chrism, confers upon it.
A Thus, for those who have been fashioned spiritually and generated in this manner, it is fitting that they should also obtain an activity and a motion corresponding to this generation. This the use of the most divine ointment provides for us; for it makes the spiritual activities effective—for one person in this way, for another in that, and for another in many ways, as each approaches the mystery with preparation. What happened in former times to those being baptized—that which the hands of the apostles performed upon those being initiated—occurs now as well. For it says in Scripture, when the apostles laid their hands upon those being initiated, the Spirit was given; and now, in like manner, the Paraclete comes upon those who are anointed. B And there is a proof and sign of this. Since the old law used to anoint both kings and priests in the same way, the law of the Church, in anointing those men, imposes the gift upon them and prays for the grace of the Spirit for both; by this it is shown that both the one and the other look toward the same end, and that both have the same power. Furthermore, they are also related to one another by their names, both that chrism and this communion of the Spirit. For the most holy priests call the inauguration of priests an "anointing"; and, on the other hand, for those upon whom they confer the mystery of the ointment, they both pray and believe that they are participants of the Holy Spirit; and explaining to those being initiated what the rite ultimately is, they call it the "seal of the spiritual gift," for this is what they pronounce over those being anointed.
C Furthermore, the Lord Christ himself, who received not the ointment poured upon his head, but was anointed by the Holy Spirit, since he was the treasury of all spiritual activity because of the flesh he assumed—and not only Christ, but also the chrism: "For thy name is as ointment poured forth," he says—the one from the beginning, the other later. For as long as there was not that to which God could impart his own, the ointment was, remaining in itself. But after that blessed flesh was fashioned, which received the entire fullness of the Godhead, as Paul says, and to which, as John testifies, God gave not the Spirit by measure, but poured into it all the riches of the soul...
then, A when that ointment had been poured into it, it rightly is, and is called, chrism. For to communicate this was for it to become and to be poured out as chrism; for it did not change its place, nor did it divide a wall, nor did it pass beyond; but what was keeping it away from us, and what he himself had created, that he left as nothing in between. For God did not differ from men by place, he who fills every place, but he was separated by a difference; and nature kept itself apart from God, by differing in all things it possessed and having nothing in common with him: because he himself was God alone, while our nature was man alone. But when flesh was deified, and human nature obtained the God-man as its hypostasis, the wall or partition now became the ointment; and that difference no longer has any place, with one hypostasis being this, and having become that, which removes the interval and separation between the divine and human nature, being a common boundary of both natures, since there could not be a common boundary of things that are separated.
Just as, therefore, if the alabaster vessel could by some artifice be changed into ointment and be transformed into it, it would no longer be incommunicable to those outside, nor would it remain within, nor stay in itself; in the same way, when our nature was deified in the Saviour’s body, nothing continued to separate the human race from God, so that there was nothing to hinder us from partaking of his graces, except sin. Since, however, the wall was twofold, that of nature and that of the will corrupted by wickedness, the Saviour B incarnate removed the former, and by being crucified, removed the latter. For the cross destroyed sin; therefore, after baptism, which has the power of that cross and death, we approach the ointment and the communion of the Spirit. For with both obstacles removed, nothing will hinder the Holy Spirit from being poured out upon all flesh, as much, I say, as is granted in the present life.
For the third obstacle to immediate dwelling with God is mortality, and the fact that we still bear a mortal body does not allow us to transcend the enigma and the mirror. And so, since men were separated from God in three ways—by nature, by sin, and by death—the Saviour, as he had promised, made it possible to attain him purely and to live with him without a medium by removing all things that stood in the way in turn. First, because he became a partner of human nature; second, because he died on the cross; and the final wall, the tyranny of death, he drove out of the bounds of nature entirely by his resurrection. C Therefore Paul says: *The last enemy, death, is destroyed* (1 Cor. xv, 26). He would not have called it an enemy if it were not an obstacle to our true happiness; for it is necessary that the heirs of the immortal God be freed from corruption. *For corruption*, he says, *shall not inherit incorruption* (1 Cor. xv, 50). For after the general resurrection of men, the cause of which is the Saviour’s resurrection, the mirror and the enigma will pass away, and they shall see God face to face, who indeed are pure of heart.
A The work of this initiation is therefore to impart the power and efficacy of the good Spirit; and this unction itself introduces the Lord Jesus, in whom is all salvation for men, all hope of good things, and from whom comes to us the participation in the Holy Spirit, and through whom is our access to the Father. For the restoration of men is the task of the Trinity in common, but its sole agent is the Word; not only when He dwelt among men and mingled with them, and "was offered," as Paul says, "to bear the sins of many," but from that time onward He is always working, as long as He bears our nature, for which we have Him as an advocate with God. For by Himself He "cleanses our conscience from dead works," and through Himself He gives the Spirit.
B This mystery, in former times, provided those who were baptized with the gifts of healings, prophecy, tongues, and such like, which served as clear proof to all men of the superhuman power of Christ; for such things were necessary at that time when Christianity was being founded and religion was still being established. But even now, such things have existed for some from that time, and in our own day, and in that of those slightly before us, and I have spoken of things to come, and they have cast out demons and relieved sicknesses—and this not by prayers alone—and not only while they were living in this life, but even from their graves they were able to do the same, as the spiritual efficacy did not desert the blessed dead.
But as for that which this ointment provides for Christians at all times, and for which there is a season at every moment, these are the gift of piety, prayer, charity, self-control, and the other virtues which fall to those who receive them precisely at the right time. Even if this escapes many Christians, and the magnitude of the power of this mystery lies hidden, and according to what is said in the Acts, "they did not even know if there were a Holy Spirit," this is because some, in the very initiation—since they attain this mystery before they come of age—are inept at understanding the gifts; others, in the flower of their years, are turned to shameful deeds and have blinded the eye of their soul. C For in truth the Spirit bestows His gifts upon the initiated, "distributing to each one individually as He wills." Nor does the Lord leave us, while He is doing good, He who promised to be with us even to the end of the age. For this initiation is not empty or superfluous, but just as we receive the forgiveness of sins from the divine laver, and the body of Christ from the holy table, and these will not cease until He Himself, the foundation of these things, shall openly appear, in the same manner it is fitting for Christians to enjoy the most holy ointment and absolutely necessary to partake of the gifts of the Holy Spirit. D For how would it be consistent for some sacred initiations to have their efficacy, while this one has no benefit at all, and to believe, according to Paul, that the Promiser is faithful regarding the former, while doubting regarding this one? It is necessary either to judge that none of them have any, or to judge that the others have the same, since the same power works through all.
A And the immolation of one Lamb and one and the same death provide the perfection for all. The Holy Spirit is therefore truly given, to some in order that they may be able to benefit others and, as Paul says, to build up the Church, by speaking of things to come, or by teaching mysteries, or by driving away diseases with a word; to others, so that they may themselves become better, shining forth in piety or—by an excess of self-restraint, or love, or humility. For it is possible to practice self-restraint by using reason and habit, and to train the character toward justice, and to pray, and to love, and to accomplish other such worthy things; but it is also possible, moved by God, to master the passions of the mind and to show kindness and to act justly, and to display the rest of true philosophy. For just as there are bestial vices in men who are stirred up by evil spirits, so on the contrary, there are divine virtues, and these are found to be above the human capacity through God himself moving them. For this reason the blessed Paul loved, David was meek, and another person displayed in something else one of the praiseworthy things—a reason beyond what is expected of men. For the one wrote to the Philippians that he loved them «in the heart of Jesus Christ»; and concerning David, God says: «I have found a man according to my heart.» And indeed, faith itself is a spiritual gift, which the apostles ask of the Savior. «Increase for us,» they say, «faith,» and He himself prays for them to the Father for sanctification: «Sanctify them,» He says, «in thy truth»; and God grants both to the one who prays—and it is the Spirit himself who «intercedes for us with groanings which cannot be uttered,» B providing, I suppose, the power of prayer. And in general, according to this account, the Holy Spirit is the spirit of wisdom, and the spirit of understanding, and of counsel and strength, and of piety, and of the others whose names he manifests to those to whom he communicates his own.
The mystery performs its own work in all who are initiated; however, the perception of the gifts and the zeal concerning these riches, so as to make use of what has been given, are not in everyone: in some because they have not yet been able to attain the intelligence due to their immature age, and in others because they have not prepared themselves nor shown the necessary eagerness; for some of whom, repentance for sins, tears, and a life directed by the rule of virtue subsequently revealed the grace infused into their souls. Hence also Paul, writing to Timothy, says: «Do not neglect the gift that is in you,» C as if there were no benefit for us if, having received the gift, we are slothful, and that toil and watchfulness are required for those who desire to have their soul as a worker of these things. So that if anyone among the zealous appears to excel in love, or in purity of self-restraint, or in an excess of humility, or piety, or any such thing beyond what is expected of these men, D one must attribute it to the most holy chrism and believe that the gift was indeed given to him when he was bestowed with the mystery of the anointing, but that it became active afterward; and the same is to be thought concerning those who are able to speak acutely, and those who are being driven in their purpose and are otherwise weak, being saviors.
A For if on the one hand the celebration of the mystery does not show those who are initiated to be workers of spiritual effects at the very time of the initiation, and on the other hand, the things that they themselves perform spiritually at a later time are not to be attributed to the initiation, what need is there to be initiated? And to what end would the initiation of the divine myron still contribute anything to us, if it is unable to bestow that for which it is sought? Nor can it be plausibly said that, although the unction does not produce this fruit for us, it can nevertheless help us. For if it does not grant the enjoyment of those things which it promises, and towards which the whole rite tends, and for which the initiator prays, and which he persuades the initiate that he will receive immediately, then one should hardly expect any other good from it. But if the mystery is not empty—for neither is anything else that is Christian, for "Our preaching," he says, "is not in vain, nor is your faith in vain" [1 Cor. xv, 14]—if it is possible to find any spiritual operation among men, out of that circle of graces from above, we must necessarily attribute these to the prayers and the sacred unction.
B For in truth there is not, I say, there is not any good, bestowed thence upon men reconciled to God, which has not been granted to us through the mediator constituted between God and men; nor does anything else allow us to find and reach the mediator, and to attain his good things, other than the sacraments. For these make us, as it were, kin to him, and participants in the torments he endured and the graces he received on account of the flesh. C For since there are two things which commend men to God, and upon which all human salvation is supported—the one, that we be initiated into the most sacred mysteries; the other, that we urge our mind toward virtue—as regards the latter, that is, human zeal, there would be no other task required than to preserve what has been given and not to betray the treasure. It remains, therefore, that the power of the mysteries is the sole bestower of all goods upon us. And indeed, while the work of the other rites is something else, the communion of the Spirit and of his gifts depends upon the most holy myron. Therefore, even if someone is unable to demonstrate a spiritual gift at the very time of the initiation, but can do so long afterward, one should not be ignorant of the cause, and whence that power comes. D For the illumination of baptism is indeed infused into the souls of the washed immediately; but it is not then manifest to all, but is recognized after an interval by certain upright persons, who, through many sweats and labors and through love for Christ, have purified the eye of the soul. On account of this, [the houses] of prayer avail us in our petitions alt-version: through this the house of prayer aids us in our prayers; the unction with this ointment causes them to be to us what they are named. For we are anointed with the myron, and that very thing becomes for us what [the myron] is called, because the poured-out myron is an advocate for us before God and the Father for this very reason: that it has been poured out and has become a chrism, and it has been poured out even unto our soul. Altars, moreover, imitate the hand of the Savior,
A and we receive the body as if from that incorrupt hand, and we drink his blood, just as those to whom the Master first shared the sacred table, offering the drink that is full of dread. For since the same one is both priest and altar, sacrifice and offerer, and the one through whom he offers as well as what he offers, he has divided the work among the mysteries, assigning that to the bread of blessing, and this to the chrism.
For the Savior is indeed the altar, and the sacrificer because of the chrism; for the altar was established from the beginning in such a way as to be anointed, and for the priests, to be priests was to be anointed. But he is the sacrifice because of the cross and the death for which he died for the glory of God and the Father; and we proclaim that death and the slaughter, as he says, as often as we eat this bread. B Furthermore, the Lord is the chrism and the anointing because of the Holy Spirit, through whom he was able to perform the holiest of all things and to sanctify, but was not able to be sanctified or to suffer anything. But these things belonged to the altar, to the sacrificer, and to the one offering, not to what was being offered and sacrificed; for the altar is also said to sanctify: "For the altar, he says, is what sanctifies the gift." The bread is because of the flesh that has been sanctified and deified, and which has received both these things, both the anointing and the wounds. For he says, "The bread which I will give is my flesh, which I will give" (namely, sacrificing) "for the life of the world."
For this reason, it is offered as bread, but it offers as chrism, both deifying his own flesh and making us partakers of the anointing. Jacob pointed to the type of these things C when he anointed the stone with oil and dedicated it to the Lord, offering it by anointing it: either hinting at the flesh of the Savior as the chief cornerstone, upon which the true Israel—the mind that alone knows the Father—poured the chrism of divinity; or hinting at us, whom he raises up from the stones as children to Abraham by imparting the anointing. For the Holy Spirit, being poured upon those who are anointed, is to us both other things and the Spirit of adoption; "He bears witness," he says, "to our spirit that we are children of God, crying in our hearts, Abba, Father." Such help does the most holy chrism provide to those who wish to live in Christ.
ON THE LIFE IN CHRIST, BOOK FOUR What benefit the most holy Communion provides to it.
A After the holy unction, we proceed to the holy table, which is the end and goal of this life of which we are speaking; when we have reached it, nothing further will be lacking for the sought-after and desired blessedness. For we no longer receive death, or the tomb, or even a communion of a better life, but Him who rose again; neither do we receive the gifts of the Spirit as much as can be grasped, but the Benefactor Himself, the very Temple in which the whole circle of graces is situated. For He is in each of the sacraments, and we are both anointed and washed in Him; and He Himself is our supper. He is present to those who are being initiated and confers His own gifts upon them, though not in the same way in all; but washing away the mud of vices, He removes it and imprints His own form upon the person. As the one who anoints, He makes one active and energetic in the works of the Holy Spirit, of which He Himself became the treasury for the sake of the flesh. B But when He leads one to the table and grants them to eat of the Body, He changes the initiate entirely and translates them into His own habit; and the mud is no longer mud—having received the royal image—but is now the body of the King, than which nothing more blessed can be conceived. This is why this is the final sacrament, because one cannot go further, nor can anything more be added. For it is clear that the first is in need of the middle, and the middle in need of the last. But after the Eucharist, there is no place to which we might tend; rather, standing here, we must try to discern those things through which we might be able to preserve the treasure to the end. Therefore, for us who have been baptized, that sacrament provides everything it ought; yet we are not yet perfect. For we do not yet have the gifts of the Holy Spirit, which depend upon the most holy ointment. C For the Holy Spirit had not yet descended upon those baptized by Philip for the sake of these graces; rather, the hands of Peter and John were needed for this. "For as yet," Scripture says, "it had not fallen upon any of them, but they had only been baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. Then they laid their hands upon them, and they received the Holy Spirit" (Acts VIII, 16-17). And having attained this, and with the ritual having demonstrated its own power within us, we possess the grace that was given, but it is not necessary that the other things follow…
from the Benefactor; for it is possible that we still owe penalties for certain things, and there is nothing to prevent both the mystery being accomplished and the gifts not being corrupted, while we ourselves remain deficient in what is required.
C Of this there are many witnesses, and it happened to the Corinthians even while the apostles were still living. For although they were full of the Spirit, prophesying, speaking in tongues, and conspicuous for other adornments, they were so far from being entirely divine and spiritual that they labored under envy, importunate ambition, contention, and evils of this kind. B And Paul, reproaching them for these things, says, "You are carnal, and you walk according to man." Although they were spiritual, so far as a portion of the graces was concerned, this was not enough to eject every evil from their soul.
But with the Eucharist, nothing of the sort occurs. For in those in whom the bread of life has become operative, through which they have avoided death, and neither while dining were they bound by any wickedness, nor did they introduce any, no one could accuse such as these. C For it is not possible—it is not possible, I say—for this mystery to be operative in all things and [yet] not to deliver the initiated from any kind of imperfection. Why so? Because to work in the mystery is to ensure that those who are initiated lack nothing of all that is brought about. For the promise of the Table makes us dwell in Christ, and Christ in us. For He says, "He abides in Me, and I in him."
With Christ abiding in us, what more could be required? Or what good could escape us? Abiding in Christ, what else shall we desire? He is our dweller, D and He Himself is our dwelling. O, how blessed we are with such a habitation! And blessed again, because we have become inhabitants of such a house. For what good could those so affected and established possibly lack? What could vice have in common with those who are in such charity? What evil, finally, could oppose itself to such a heap of good things? For what could either present itself or from afar threaten, when Christ is so familiarly with us and penetrates us entirely, possess all our interior, and surrounds and protects us? For He prevents arrows cast from the outside from striking us, by shielding us on every side; D for He is our house. And if there is anything vicious within, He casts it out and expels it; for He is the dweller, and He fills His whole house. For we do not contain some part of Him, but Him Himself; and we receive not just a ray or a light, but the very Sun into our souls, so that we may dwell and be dwelt in, that we may be clothed and clothe, and be commingled, and become one spirit with Him. For soul and body and all our faculties suddenly exist as spiritual, because soul is mingled with soul, body with body, and blood with blood. What follows from this? The better prevails over the lesser, and the divine overcomes the human; and that which Paul wrote concerning the resurrection: "The mortal is swallowed up by life." And further: "I live now, not I," he says, "but Christ lives in me."
A O the magnitude of the mysteries! For how is it that the mind of Christ is joined to our mind, and His will to our will, and His body to our body, and His blood to our blood! How [superior] is the mind that has gained the mastery of the divine mind, and how [blessed] is the will that has overcome the blessed will, and how [transfigured] is the earth that has been utterly vanquished by that fire! And indeed that these things happen in this way Paul shows, declaring that he has neither his own mind, nor will, nor life, but that all these things have become Christ for him. For he says: “We have the mind of Christ,” B and, “Do you seek proof of Christ who speaks in me?” and, “I think that I also have the Spirit of God,” and, “I love you in the heart of Jesus Christ”; whence it was manifest that he possessed the same will as Him. And, summing it all up, he says: “I live now, not I, but Christ lives in me.” So perfect is the mystery, surpassing every rite, and bringing to itself the summit of all good things, since also the ultimate end of all human endeavor is here. For we attain to God Himself in it, and God is united to us in the most perfect union; for to become one spirit with God, what union could be more precise?
C For this reason, the Eucharist alone provides perfection to the other mysteries, and assists them while they are initiating, since without it they do not initiate perfectly. It helps even after the initiation in those who have been initiated, when it is necessary to call back the ray that emanated from the mysteries and was obscured by the darkness of sins. For to bring back to life those who are failing and have been deadened by sins is the work of the holy table alone. For it is not possible for man to stand up once he has fallen by human power, nor for the wickedness of men to be dissolved by human righteousness; for to sin is to bring insult against God Himself: “Through the transgression of the law,” he says, “you dishonor God,” and a virtue greater than that which is human is required to be able to dissolve the crime. For it is very easy and especially simple to insult the greatest from the least, but to compensate for the insult with honor is impossible—especially when he who has committed the injury is a debtor to Him for many things, and He so far exceeds [the debtor] that there is not even a measure of the interval. For it is necessary that he who seeks to expiate the crime and to restore the honor that was taken away to the one who was wronged must offer more than what is owed, paying back what is due and adding from the equivalent [of the offense] for what he did unjustly; but to him for whom it is not possible even to approach what is being done, who could pursue the greater things?
D For this reason, no man was able to reconcile God to himself by bringing his own righteousness, whence neither the old law was able to dissolve the enmity, nor would the zeal and diligence of those living in grace suffice to attain this peace; for this...
and that work of human virtue is a human justice; A for even the Law itself the blessed Paul calls a human justice: For they were not subjected, he says, to the justice of God, seeking to establish their own justice. He speaks of the old Law; for it was able to avail against our evils only so much as to prepare us for health and to render us worthy of the physician’s hand. For the Law, he says, has been our pedagogue in Christ Jesus, and the blessed John baptized into him who was to come after him, and all human philosophy and every labor are, as it were, certain initiations and preparations for true justice. Wherefore, since we were unable to provide this justice by ourselves and through ourselves, B Christ himself became for us justice from God, and sanctification, and redemption, and dissolved the enmities in his flesh, and reconciles God to us; not only does he communicate with (our) nature, nor only when he succumbed to death, but always, and to each one of men: then as nailed to the cross, now as giving a feast, if we repent and ask for pardon for those things in which we have sinned. For he alone could both render all the honor owed to the Progenitor and make satisfaction for what had been taken away; the former by his life, the latter by his death. For the death which he suffered for the glory of the Father on the cross, balancing the insult brought by us and replacing it with a greater abundance, repaired the honor which we had taken from Him by sinning. A great price, indeed. But by his life he restored all honor, and it was fitting that he should be honored by it and that the Father should be honored. For besides the many great works which he exhibited, which were for the greatest glory of the Father, he both led a whole life pure from every sin; and he carried out most accurately and perfectly the laws given to him by Him, not only those which he himself kept (for "I have kept the commandments of my Father," he says), but also those which he prescribed for the life of men, alone pre-demonstrating and planting heavenly philosophy on earth, and furthermore C by his very miracles, of which he proclaimed the One who begat him as the cause and author.
Besides all these things, who does not see that by this one thing alone—that he conversed with men and was thus integrated into the flesh—he most fully and clearly demonstrated the goodness and kindness of the One who sent him, and established the glory which all who encountered him were bound to attribute to Him? For if his goodness is to be measured by his benefits, and God has so benefited the human race through the œconomy that He spared none of those things that pertain to it, but placed all His riches into human nature (for "In him," he says, "dwells all the fullness of the divinity bodily"), it is clear that we have known in the Savior his supreme and uttermost kindness; and through the things which he performed, he alone taught men how much God loved the world and how great is His concern D for the human race. Whence also he [teaches] Nicodemus to know the philanthropy of the Fa—
Father, and he intends this to be a sufficient indication of His infinite goodness: "For God," he says, "so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." For if the Father could not bestow on nature greater or better benefits than those which He bestowed in the descent of the Son to us, it is evident that the Son could not provide a greater glory of goodness and philanthropy than that which He has consequently obtained. For this reason, the Savior in this manner honors Him by Himself, as is worthy of Himself and of the Father who begat Him. For what else could the honor of God be, than for His excellent goodness to be demonstrated? And this is the glory B which was owed to Him since long ago, and could not be paid by any of men, and for this reason, "If I am a Father," He says, "where is my honor?" For it was permitted to the Only-begotten alone to perform all things fitting toward the Father; and thus, while demonstrating this very thing—that He alone was able to complete this struggle, since He fulfilled the entire work toward the honored Father—He says, "I have glorified Thee upon the earth; I have manifested Thy name to men." Rightly. For He is the Word and bears the exact image of the One who begat Him, "the brightness of [His] glory, and the express image of His substance"; and since, because He was joined to flesh, He became intelligible to those who live by sense, He announced the entire good will C of the Mind that begat Him. And I think that what He says to Philip, who desired to see the Father, also looks to this: "He who has seen me, has seen the Father." And hence it is in Isaiah, "His name shall be called the Angel of great counsel."
Thus, therefore, omitting nothing toward the glory of the Father, the Only-begotten alone destroys the middle wall of enmity and absolves man of his offenses. But since according to the other of His natures—I mean our own, the human one—the dual Jesus honored the Father, and from His own body and blood wove that admirable crown of glory for the Father, for this reason the body of Christ alone is the remedy against sin, and His blood is the unique abolition D of sins. Indeed, for this reason also it was created from the beginning, that He might glorify the Father, just as He Himself confesses, that for this He was born and for this He came into the world: and for all the time thereafter, He did only whatever contributed to this, and for the sake of this one thing He labored again and again and in a greater manner. For this body was the treasury of the fullness of the divinity and was devoid of all sin, and it fulfilled all righteousness, and it proclaimed the Father, whom they were ignorant of, to His kinsmen, both by those things which He said and by those which He suffered. This is that which was slaughtered upon the cross; and that which draws near to the slaughter was fearful and anxious and flowed with sweat and was betrayed and
A bore witness before Pontius Pilate of the good confession, as Paul says, and paid the penalty for this confession by death, and that upon the cross; and He received scourges upon His back, and nails in His hands and feet, and the lance in His side. He suffered while being scourged, and felt pain while being nailed. This blood, erupting from the wounds, darkened the sun and shook the earth and sanctified the air and cleansed the entire world from the filth of sin. Therefore, just as there was need for the spiritual law of the written law simply, for that which is imperfect to be perfected—in that it could not make the one serving it perfect, as that which can—in the same way, for those who, after baptism, have sinned and plead for the penalty to be averted, there is need for their labors, sweats, and tears of the blood of the New Testament and of the slaughtered body, seeing that without these, nothing is of profit to them.
B Furthermore, the divine Dionysius says that these sacred initiations themselves cannot be completed, nor can they perform their function, if the holy supper is not added; much less is it to be believed that the labor and righteousness of men can blot out sins and accomplish such things. Moreover, this is one of the sacraments, that those who repent of their sins and reveal themselves to the priests are freed from every penalty before God the Judge, a consequence which those who do not recline at the sacred feast will be unable to attain in like manner. For this reason, although we are invited once, we approach this table more often: since it happens that men, being born, always offend God; but those striving to emerge from their transgressions are in need of repentance, labors, and a certain triumph over sin. And this they will do against sin, if that which is the only medicine for human ills be applied.
C For just as the cultivated olive branch, when it is grafted into the wild olive, soon transforms it into itself, and the fruit afterwards does not at all resemble the wild olive; in the same way, human righteousness itself, while it contributes nothing of itself, in those who have been united to Christ and have become partakers of His flesh and blood, immediately generates the greatest of goods: the remission of sins and the inheritance of the kingdom, which are the fruits of the righteousness of Christ. For as we receive from the sacred table the body of Christ, and—what is more excellent—It overcomes our body by far, so it follows here that our righteousness should take into itself the form and face of Christ’s righteousness. For this, “We are the body of Christ and members in particular” (1 Cor. xii, 27), we must not think to be said of the body alone, but D much more justly must this communion be attributed to the soul and its activity; since, “He who is joined to the Lord is one spirit with Him” (1 Cor. vi, 17). By these words it is declared that this communion and coalescing consists rather in the soul and the mind. For this reason He did not assume a body only, but also took a soul, and a mind, and a will, and everything human, in order that He might be able to be united to our whole selves, and might permeate our whole selves, and resolve us into Himself.
having bound all things of His own to ours; whence, to those who are sinning, He is unsuitable and unsticking, because in this way alone is there commonality for us with Him. For all other things He both received from us in His love for mankind, and binds to us more lovingly. For the one was for God to descend to earth, the other for us to be raised up from here; the one was for Him to become man, the other for man to be deified; and the one simply frees nature from reproaches and disgrace, having conquered sin in one body and one soul, the other releases each individual man from sins and commends him to God—and these are more loving than those. For since it was not possible for us to ascend and share in His things, He Himself descended to us and shares in our things, and thus so accurately grows together with those which He took, that by means of those things which He took from us, He gives back to us, and imparts Himself; and by participating in human flesh and blood, we receive God Himself into our souls, and the body of God, and the blood, and the soul of God, and the mind and will, no less than human ones. B For this was necessary to be the medicine of my weakness, just as that other was necessary to come to be: for if He were God only, He would not have been united in this way; for how would He have become a supper for us? But if He were only what we are, He would not have acted thus. Now, however, He is both: in this way, as being of the same race, He is united and grows together with men, and in that way He is able to lift up and conquer nature, and transfer it to Himself. For the stronger powers do not allow the lesser to remain in their same state when they are brought together with them; and iron retains nothing of iron when it has come together with fire, and earth and water, having enjoyed the fire, are changed from their own properties to those of the fire. C If, then, the stronger of the homogeneous powers act thus upon the lesser, what must we think regarding that supernatural power? It is manifest, therefore, that Christ is poured into us and mixes Himself with us, and changes and transforms us to Himself, just as a small drop of water poured into an immense sea of ointment. For such power does this ointment have over those things that fall into it, that it does not show them to be merely fragrant or merely breathing of ointment, but renders them the very fragrance itself in their state, and the sweet odor of that ointment which was poured out for our sake: "For we are the sweet odor of Christ," D he says (II Cor. II, 15).
Such power and grace does the supper have for those who have performed the rite, if at least, having approached pure, we introduce no evil thing thereafter. For to us who are so disposed and prepared, nothing will retard Christ from being united to us so precisely. "This mystery is great," the blessed Paul said (Eph. V, 32), exalting this union; for this is the much-praised marriage, by which the all-holy Bridegroom takes the Church as a virgin bride. For here, too, Christ nourishes the chorus attached to Him, and by this mystery alone are we "flesh of His flesh, and bones of His bones" (Gen. II, 21). These are the things by which the Apostle, defining marriage, teaches that Christ is the bridegroom, and that he has the bride, a marriage…
A and reconciler, as John says. This sacrament is light for those already purified, but for those who are still being purified, it is a means of purification, and for those struggling against the evil one and the turbulent passions of the soul, it is an anointing, just as one anoints athletes in gymnastic contests. For to the former, nothing remains but to receive the light of the world, as if the defect had been removed from their eyes; but for those who are still in need of that which is able to purify, what other means of purification could there be? "For the blood of the Son of God," says John, who is loved by Christ in a special way, "cleanses us from all sin." Who, moreover, does not know that victory over the evil one depends on Christ alone, whose body alone raised the trophy against sin, and can bring aid to those being attacked through the very thing in which He Himself suffered and, having been tempted, conquered? For since the flesh had nothing in common with spiritual life, but rather holds it in hatred and as an enemy—"For the flesh," he says, "lusts against the Spirit" (Gal. V, 17)—for this reason, flesh was devised against flesh, the spiritual against the earthly, and the law of the flesh is annulled, and the flesh yields to the Spirit and provides help against the law of sin. For because this blessed flesh had not yet been established and joined together, it was not granted to any man to live a spiritual life, since not even the law itself was kept, although it was not very recondite and abstruse; nor did it accomplish anything in men, since our nature followed after worse things. For the law was weakened by the flesh, and it had need of another flesh B that could protect its strength. "For what was impossible for the law," he says, "in which it was weak through the flesh, God did, by sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin He condemned sin in the flesh" (Rom. VIII, 3). For this cause we always have need of this flesh, and we refresh ourselves frequently with this food, so that the law of the Spirit may be active in us, and no room may remain for the life of the flesh, nor may it find occasion to incline toward the earth, like heavy bodies left without supports or props. For the sacrament is perfect in every respect, nor do those who share in it require anything that it does not provide in an excellent way.
But because the corruption of our material nature does not allow the seal to remain undisturbed—"For we have this treasure in earthen vessels" (II Cor. IV, 7)—for this reason we do not receive the medicine once, but continually; and it is necessary for the potter to be ever seated by the clay and to repair the confused image again and again, and for us frequently to feel the hand of the Physician, C who restores the failing material and sets upright the wavering will, lest death should steal upon us unawares. "For when we were dead in sins," he says, "He made us alive together in Christ" (Ephes. II, 5), and "The blood of Christ cleanses our consciences from dead works to serve the living God" (Hebr. IX, 14). For the power of the sacred table draws the true life into us from that blessed heart,
and in this way we become not only members through the rite, but also partakers of his very life. A And if this be true service of God—to be subject, to obey, to do all things at his moving and impelling—I do not see how we could be more subject to God than by becoming his members. For what, in the end, could command anyone more than the head commands the members? Indeed, it is in this mystery more perfectly than in any other that the Bread of Life grants himself to us, that we may be members of Christ. For just as members live because of the head and the heart, so, "He who eats me," he says, "he also will live because of me" (John VI, 57). Life exists also by means of food; but the sacrament has a different rationale. For food, being itself devoid of life, cannot instill life into us from itself, but sustains the life of the body that it finds, and thus seems to be the cause of life to those who partake of it. But the bread of life is itself living, and because of it, those to whom he imparts himself truly live. Whence, food is transmuted into the one who is nourished—fish, bread, and whatever other nourishment there is, is converted into human blood. B Here, the exact opposite occurs. For the bread of life itself moves the one who is fed, and transfers him, and changes him into himself; and because it is the way of the heart and the head, we are moved and we live, insofar as it is in him, just as he himself is moved and lives. Indicating this same thing—that he does not nourish our life like food, but rather breathes his own life into us, and like heart or head imparts life to the members—he called himself the living bread, and said: "He who eats me, he also will live because of me."
It is clear, therefore, that to worship God in spirit and truth, C and to serve him sincerely, is an obligation of the sacred table; not only because we are members of Christ and through this rite obtain a certain likeness to him, but also because we could not serve the Living One while we were dead. Moreover, to live and be free from dead works is impossible unless one partakes of this supper very frequently. For just as "God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth" (John IV, 24), so it behoves those who have determined to worship the Living One to be alive: "For he is not," he says, "the God of the dead, but of the living" (Matt. XXII, 32).
To live, then, according to right reason and to have commerce with virtue is also to serve God. D But this might be considered the work even of servants: "For when you have done all these things," he says, "say that we are unprofitable servants" (Luke XVII, 10). But this service is performed only by sons, and we are called not into the rank and place of servants, but of sons; for this reason we partake of his flesh and blood. "For inasmuch as the children," he says, "have shared in flesh and blood" (Hebr. II, 14). For just as he, in order that he might become our Father and be able to utter those words, "Behold, I and the children whom God has given me" (Isa. VIII, 18), became a sharer of flesh and blood with us, so also we, that we might become his children, must needs partake of his...
A flesh and blood in return. And in this way we are not only made his members through this sacrament, but also his children, so that we may serve him, submitting ourselves willingly and with voluntary intent, just as children do. Yet exactly as members—for thus is the service admirable and truly transcendent, so that we need the image of both, both of children and of members, since one alone is not sufficient to demonstrate what is. For what is admirable in this, that those who possess no motion of their own are moved and stirred by God as by a head, just as members are? And what is singular in being subjected to the Father of spirits as to the fathers of the flesh? But both together transcend nature, when we are able to be subjected as members while retaining the freedom of will as children.
B And this is the matter of the celebrated adoption, not consisting in voice and appellation, as in human affairs, nor honored only to that extent. For among us, the adopted share with those who adopt them in name only, and only to that extent is the father common to them; no generation intervenes, no birth-pangs. But here there is both a generation in truth and a communion with the Only-Begotten, not of the name alone, but of the things themselves—the blood, the body, the life. For what is more excellent than when the Father of the Only-Begotten himself recognizes the members in us, when he beholds the very form of the Son upon our faces? "For those," he says, "he foreordained to be conformed to the image of his Son" (Rom. VIII, 29). And why do I enumerate this human adoption, when here there is something more binding and more kindred than natural generation, and those thus born are sons of God more than of those who begat them—and so much more, by as much as those are more than the matter that is posited for conception? For what is it that makes parents legitimate ones for us? It is that we have this flesh from their flesh, and our life is fashioned from their blood. This we also acquire in the Savior. For we are flesh from his flesh and bones from his bones, but there is a great interval between the two communions. For in natural things, the blood of the children that now is, is no longer that of the ones who begat them, but it was theirs before it belonged to the children, and this is what creates the lineage—that what is now the child's, was previously the parent's. But the work of the sacrament is that the blood by which we live is even now the blood D of Christ, and the flesh which the mystery cements within us is the body of Christ, and the members are common, and the life is common.
This is true communion, when the same thing is present to both at the same time; for if each has it, now one and now the other, this would be not so much communicating as separating and differing. For there is nothing that joins them, since both do not possess at the same time that which each alone possesses. Wherefore they neither truly communicate with one another, nor have they communicated; but merely because that which is the same was previously this one's and is now that one's, it has only a certain appearance of communion. For just as
no one would be a housemate A with the person who has lived in the same house if he lived there after him, nor would a person be a partner in government and affairs and cares with someone who had received the magistracy after him—but only he who, in addition to dwelling in the same place and overseeing the same affairs, also employed the same times—in the same way, the situation is the same here: we do not truly partake of flesh and blood with our parents—since they do not share the same time with us—but we do with Christ, with whom we always have the body and blood and members and all these things in common. B If, therefore, the sharing of flesh and blood makes children, it is evident that we are more closely related through the table to the Savior than by nature to those who begat us. Furthermore, He has not, like them, brought us to life and formed us once and then departed; rather, He is always present and united, and by this very presence He gives life and forms us. And while nothing prevents those separated from their parents from still existing, for those separated from Christ, nothing else is to be expected but death. And why should I not state what is greater? For children to exist by themselves apart from those who begat them is impossible; C rather, the very thing that makes some the begetters and others to have been begotten is the fact of their being separated. But sonship in the mysteries consists in being together and communicating, and to be separated and divided is to be no longer, but to have utterly perished.
Therefore, if the name of kinship signifies some communion, and points, I believe, to those who are joined by the commonality of blood, the only communion of blood, the only kinship and sonship, would be that according to which we commune with Christ. For this reason, He also obscures the natural birth whenever it happens among the same people. “As many as received Him,” He says, “to them He gave the power to become children of God,” although they have been begotten, and those who begot them were flesh, and that birth preceded this one. But the second has so far overcome the older that not even a trace or a name of the former remains; and thus the holy bread, by introducing the new man, uproots and casts out the old. D For this too is the work of the holy table: “For those who received Him,” He says, “were not born of blood.” And when do we receive Him? Let us recognize the word, and he by whom this is said in the mysteries—I mean, “Take.” For it is evident that we are called to the supper by this voice, through which we truly receive Christ with our hands, and take Him with our mouth, and mingle Him with our soul, and join Him to our body, and immerse Him in our blood; and this is justly so. For to those who thus receive and hold onto the Savior, He Himself is a fitting head, and they are members worthy of this Head; and it was right that the members should be generated by the same generation as the Head. For that flesh was not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but...
of God and of the Holy Spirit. A “For that which is born in her,” He says, “is of the Holy Spirit.” It was likely that the members should be born in this way, since the very generation of the Head was the generation of those blessed members. For this was what it meant for the members to exist, that the Head was born. And if for each man the beginning of life is a generation, and to have begun life is to have been born, since the life of those who cling to Him is Christ, they have been born by the birth of Christ, who entered into this life and was born. Such a heap of good things arises for us from the sacred table, it frees us from penalty, it removes the shame arising from sin, it calls back the hour, it requires of us a binding to Christ himself more strictly than natural bonds, to say it once for all; it makes those who are perfect in the true Christianity, differing from every other rite.
But here it comes into the minds of many to wonder about this mystery, how, since it is B the most excellent of all, and greater even than baptism, it should nevertheless seem to have less power in washing away crimes. For the latter requires no effort; for the former, efforts must precede. And indeed, between those purified there [in baptism], and those who have contracted no stain at all, there is no difference; but for those coming to the supper, there are for many, traces of sins. And that we may speak more distinctly and fully, since these three things are considered in sins: the perverse action of the sinner, the penalty to be paid for it, and the proclivity of the soul injected thence: the sinner himself must depart from the action by himself, and when it is finished, come to the bath; but baptism removes the rest, while no one labors at all, at once and together, namely both the penalty and the disease. And so it is believed to slay in a way the one who has sinned. For he dies in the waters and is a new man C whom the bath brings forth. But the holy bread, which one may receive in sorrow, and for it, as is worthy, grieving for his sins, frees him from the crime, and abolishes the perverse habit of the soul: it does not slay, however, for it is not wont to reform from the beginning, and this only limit of sin it leaves immovable and allows to remain, no longer subject to crime, to be sure, but nonetheless daring. Moreover, there are those who still bear the marks of the disease and the scars of former wounds, if they have not had as much care for their healing as is fitting, and have not brought to the power of the medicine a preparation of the soul equal to it; and this purification differs from that one, in that it is not said to mortify and refashion the sinner, and in that it cleanses the sinner while he remains, and not even this without labor on our part. But these things do not pertain D to the sacrament, but to the nature of the thing itself, so that we may understand that those entangled in crimes must, in the one case, be initiated, and in the other, being about to partake of the sacred supper, be purified. And indeed, concerning the labors required, I say this. Baptism receives those not yet formed, nor [yet] for a good course
A of running endowed with any virtue; it is not in vain that He works all these things for us freely, and asks nothing from us, as if we were able to contribute anything. But the table is set before those who are already formed, and living, and able to suffice for themselves with their own powers, and allows them to use the arms given them, and to pursue the good, no longer as those being carried or dragged, but as those starting and moving of their own accord and from themselves, as though they already knew how to run. For what benefit was it to do and receive things which one was not to use? What benefit was it to strengthen and arm one who was going to sleep at home? For if, neither to those first being born, nor afterwards to those wishing to be purified, there were a time for struggles and labors, I do not know when we would ever be useful to ourselves. Or what would be a man’s work if the courses for virtue were taken away? Or rather, what would be worse than a state of affairs where we do nothing of what is praised, but keep the soul constantly occupied in evil action? B For this reason, it was necessary that a place for works and a time for struggles be granted to men, so that they, as perfect men, having already received the mysteries and being able to perform the work befitting their nature, and having seen the day which the Lord has made, might no longer sleep, but set out to their works, and, as David says, "Man shall go forth to his work and to his labor until evening." For just as after this day comes night, when no man can work, so also was it before this day, when there was total inability to act, and no one knew whither they must walk, the night still holding the earth, in which, he says, "he who walks does not know where he is going." But when the sun has risen, and through the mysteries the light has been shed everywhere, there must be no delay of human works and labors, C but we must eat this bread in the sweat of our face (since it was made for us; and because it is intended only for those who use reason), and, as the Lord says, work for "the food that remains," which is the command of Him who bids us not to come to this supper idle or inactive, but working. For if Paul’s law excludes even the idle from the fleeting table ("if anyone," he says, "does not want to work, let him not eat"), what kind of works will those called to this table need?
That, therefore, we ought to approach the sacred gifts in this way, and that for this reason they must purify themselves from home before the ritual, is evident from what has been said. And that this is not only not less than the other mysteries, but is even capable of more, is clear from this. For first, if God bestows greater things upon the better—He who establishes mercy and [judges] by a balance, according to the prophet, and does everything in justice—then He does even more good D to us, as being much improved, having already been initiated through the sacraments and having already struggled for virtue, than to those not washed at all. Therefore, it follows that He bestows this grace upon them, and that those initiated obtain better things through the second gifts. That, indeed, is baptism; this, the sacred supper, which it is fitting to deem so much more perfect—
A in proportion to the greater preparation required of those who desire to approach it. For it is not reasonable that the greater gift should be accessible to all who desire it, while the lesser is reserved for those already cleansed by struggles or sacraments; on the contrary, one may reasonably infer from this, and consider it to be more perfect, that which cannot be purchased without many and noble labors.
Deinde, after this, it is necessary to consider that Christ, who offers the banquet, is both our partner in the struggle and our helper. But a helper extends a hand not to those who are lying down or infirm, but to those who are sound in strength and courage, and who stand nobly and well against the adversary. For Christ himself, working in us in each of the sacraments, becomes everything: maker, trainer, helper, washing us, anointing us, and nourishing us. There, in the beginning, he fashions the members; here, he strengthens them by the Spirit; and at the table, he is present in perfect fullness and shares the struggle with us. Finally, for those who have finished the struggle, he will be the Rewarder, and he will sit as judge over the labors of the saints, of which he himself was a great part. Furthermore, when it is time to crown the victors, he himself will also be the crown. Therefore, for the sake of daring the contests for the sake of philosophy, and for attaining excellence, he, in fashioning and anointing us, contributes everything while struggling along with us—though not everything B at all times, nor indeed anything during the time of the contests. For it is not reasonable for the trainer and the maker to omit anything that can prepare and dispose the athlete, nor does common reason allow the fellow-combatant to take everything upon himself, while allowing the other to indulge in luxury, himself alone undergoing the contest. Yet it is not fitting for the one who proposes the prizes of the contest, or who is himself the crown, to anoint the contestants, to shape them, or to act the part of a physician; nor to add any victory, fortitude, strength, or any other virtue to the athletes, but only to know how to decorate that which exists and has become manifest. Now it is better for the brave to be crowned than to win while struggling, and better to win than to be fashioned and anointed; for the latter are done for the sake of victory, while victory is sought for the sake of the crowns. But if this were a sign of an imperfect and inferior lot—that it does not cleanse, prepare, and fashion in every respect—then the ultimate limit of blessedness would be less valid for happiness; namely, to possess God who crowns [us] and to become a participant in Him under a veil at His sacred table, as if the table had both a certain preparation and cleansing, while the crowns had neither. Since these things are so, it is no wonder if the mystery of the Supper, though more perfect, nevertheless cleanses less. Moreover, this gift is also a reward. Yet such rewards do not constitute or make men most brave, but reveal and adorn them. For in the Supper, Christ C is not only a means of cleansing and a helper, but also the reward, which is to be carried off by those who have fulfilled the struggle. For what else could be more worthily repaid to the saints for the labors endured in this age, than to receive Christ and to be with Him? And Paul, after that course, said that his departure from here ends in this last [goal], that of the Christ
A dwelling within. This, however, is the work of the Table in a preeminent way. For even if in other mysteries it is possible to find Christ, it is only to the extent that one might be prepared by receiving Him so as to be able to abide with Him; here, however, it is so that one may already purely receive Him and abide with Him. For where else could you find one body and one spirit, and both to remain in Him and to have Him remaining in turn within oneself? On account of this, as I surmise, Christ Himself called the blessedness of the righteous a supper, in which He personally serves.
Thus, therefore, the bread of life is a prize. But since those who receive this gift still tread upon the earth and travel as pilgrims, and for this reason are soiled by dust and stumble and fear the hands of robbers, B for the present necessity this bread is plainly sufficient; it sustains their strength, and is their guide, and cleanses them, until they shall depart to where, according to the words of Peter, it is good for a man to be, where there is no room for other things, in a region already free from troublesome affairs, and where Christ alone is their crown, dwelling purely with them. Therefore, as it has the power of cleansing, and was established from the beginning for this purpose, it frees them from every defilement. And as it assists us in the struggles—of which Christ Himself was the leader, having been the first to confront them—it bestows strength against those who war against us. But because it is also a reward, it requires the labors that make it due. Who, therefore, takes the supper as a reward and as the ultimate blessedness, how could he nonetheless infer that it is less able to provide proof?
The same way of thinking ought to be used regarding the other [mystery], and one should consider it as not contradicting the perfection of the mystery. For it is not because it lacks power that it does not reshape the one who is corrupted by sins, C but because, since he still bears the first formation or character, he cannot be marked by another, as has been said before; to delete this and to erase it from the souls of those once baptized is not even the act of the most extreme wickedness, nor could they [the impious] do it, even if they did not hesitate to deny the service pledged to the common Master, which neither the highest philosophy nor mere confession was able to imprint upon them. Furthermore, because it is universally better to be a human being than to be dead and crushed, without which there is no restoration. For death is of the old currency, and this is what can die, which the dust produced: "For the axe," says the Evangelist, "is laid to the root of the trees" D; but the one who has been washed already carries the new man. How, therefore, shall he die, being still joined to Adam, who no longer dies? And for whom, pray, should one die, when he bears within his soul the one for whose sake it was necessary to die in order to receive Him? But it is not possible to obtain this even from the laver itself; how, then, could that mystery be better than this one, when it is equally not possible to find it in either? For the power of baptism is not such that it can regenerate those who are already existing and formed; and the sacred discipline does not for this reason wash anyone twice, nor for the sake of discipline and order, but because being generated twice in the same way is among the impossibilities.
A And yet someone might say, is this not the baptism that has shown religion to the persecutors by dying? Why then have many of those initiated in the water also traversed this course and received this second washing? But to this point, it is possible to reply as follows: That for those who have chosen to come to Christ and live with Him, He commends not only that they have been fashioned according to the beautiful form by that Hand, but He also commends that they have arrived at this by their own virtue and by praiseworthy struggles. For to be baptized in water fashions the human being, and this is all it can do; but death endured for Christ is clearly able to do both: both that which the water knows how to bestow, and that which must be contributed by us. And so, for those not yet initiated, there is baptism and formation in Christ and with Christ, and as witnesses, and as being buried, in which the goal and scope of baptism is established; and there is also virtue, full of sweat for the sake of attaining that supreme Good and of utmost endurance. But for those already initiated, the first does not happen, for they are already fashioned and live; the second does happen, for it is indeed an exercise of piety and a proof of virtue, and a clear trial—tested by iron and fire and the most violent things—that one knows and loves Christ more than all things that can be loved, and holds no hope in Him more secure than these things, I say. And for these reasons, it is by no means lawful for those once initiated to use baptism again, since it can grant nothing more than what we have already received from it, whereas to endure martyrdom again and again is lawful, because it knows how not only to generate and form, but also to weave crowns for them on account of noble deeds. B And therefore, it bestows both upon the still profane, while to the initiated it assigns the latter. For it is nothing new, when something is useful for both, that those who do not need both should use one, and attain only that which they lacked; just as the gifts of the sacred table are accustomed to purify those who have not yet received them, yet are able to enlighten those who have already been purified by the mystery and possess the first. And enough on these matters.
On the Sacred Supper
But whence our discourse was led to this point: the perfect communion of men with God, which this—whether one must call the thing worship, or adoption as sons, or both of these—works, is the sacred supper, which binds us to Christ with a bond of kinship closer than that of being born from the parents themselves. D For He does not provide for us some meager beginning of a body and small rudiments of blood, but perfectly communicates to us His body and blood. Nor is He only the cause of life, as parents are, but He is life itself. Nor is He therefore called life because He is the cause of life, in the way He called the apostles light because they were leaders and authors of light for us, but because He is the very life by which it is truly possible to live. Since He also renders those who are attached and dedicated to Him holy and just, not only by instructing and teaching what is fitting, and exercising the soul toward virtue, and drawing out into action whatever power it possesses toward right reason, but...
of which he himself becomes for them righteousness from God and sanctification. For in this way, most of all, it happens to the saints that they are blessed and holy, because of the holy and blessed One who is with them; by whom they live, though they were dead, and from foolish they become wise, and from lowly and wicked servants they are made holy and righteous and sons of God. A For from themselves, and from human nature and application—from which sources these names might properly be called—nothing has come to them; rather, they are holy because of the Holy One, and righteous and wise because of the righteous and wise One who is with them. And in general, if anyone among men is truly worthy to be called by these great and venerable names, he acquires the title from that source, especially since his own domestic qualities, and whatever one might accomplish by one's own efforts, are so far from being able to make men righteous and wise that their righteousness is mere wickedness, and their wisdom is manifest foolishness.
Next, even if virtue were primarily to make us B venerable and adorn us, because we embrace the righteousness and wisdom which is from God more familiarly and zealously than the human sort, it becomes us to be named after the former rather than the latter. For just as we do not derive our name from outsiders and strangers, but from our own kin—and we are affected and called by what is inherent in our nature (for neither a house nor a garment could shape our character, nor could they bestow the name of vice or virtue)—so those divine things temper our souls more effectively and create a common name, being more truly "ours." But the things of Christ are more truly ours than our very own. For they are ours because we have become members and sons, and we share with Him in flesh and blood and spirit. Moreover, they are ours not only by those things that come from C practice, but now also by those that come from nature; since, as we have taught, there is a more intimate kinship for us with Him than with our own parents. For this reason, He did not invent merely human philosophy, nor did He wish us to advance only as far as those contests, but we are all obligated to live this new life in Christ and to exhibit that righteousness: which He would not have done if this life were not more fitting for us and did not correspond most excellently to our duty. For this reason: "We were buried with Christ through baptism, that we might walk in newness of life," and to Timothy, "Lay hold," says Paul, "of eternal life," and "Become D holy as He who called you is holy," and "Become merciful," not with human mercy, but "as your heavenly Father is merciful," and "Love one another, as I have loved you," with which love Paul loved, "in the bowels of Jesus Christ." Whence also the Savior Himself, bidding the disciples to be at peace, imparted to them His own peace. For He says: "My peace I give to you," and to the Father: "That the love," He says, "with which You loved Me, may be in them." And surely, just as this generation is something divine and supernatural, so also the life, and the manner of living, and the philosophy, and all these things, are new and spiritual. And by this
A the Saviour makes clear to Nicodemus, "That which is born of the Spirit," he says, "is spirit." Therefore also Paul says, "That I may be found in him, not having my own righteousness which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God." The argument is that this is the royal robe; for ours are servile, but how could freedom and the kingdom, towards which one must hasten, be the rewards of slaves? For they would not appear worthy of the kingdom if they had shown nothing but the virtue of slaves. For just as "corruption shall not inherit incorruption, but this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality," in the same way the works of slaves could not suffice for us for that kingdom, B but righteousness from God will be required. For the heir must be a son, not a slave: "For the slave," he says, "does not abide in the house for ever; the Son abides for ever." Wherefore each of those who have come to behold this inheritance must first cast off the condition of a slave and show himself a son—which means, having put on the form and the face of the Only-begotten, to present ourselves to the Begetter with this comeliness and elegance. And this is to be liberated by the Son of God from all servitude, and to be truly free; which you should understand Christ wished to say to the Jews when He says: "If the Son shall make you free, you shall be free indeed." For He liberates, and makes those who had been slaves the sons of God; since He Himself, being the Son and empty of every sin, makes His own body, and blood, and spirit, and all His own things common to them. For by this method He both brought us back, and liberated, and deified us, mixing Himself, the genuine, and free, and true God, with us. And thus He makes Christ, who is true righteousness, our good, C above our very natural faculties, in the holy supper. And so we glory in His goods, and as if they had been rightly done by us, we are celebrated, and from thence we are named, if we remain in communion. And if anyone hears that he is truly holy and just, and whatever else is praiseworthy, he receives the appellation from those things which he has obtained from Christ: "In God," he says, "shall my soul be praised." And: "In Him shall all nations be blessed." Whence we ask for nothing human, but those things which are Christ's: so that when we have brought them into our souls, we may depart hence with them, and before the crowns we may exhibit this philosophy in every way, and these new riches, with no false coin added, D since this alone can we bring to deserve the kingdom of heaven. For since the prize, which those who have finished the struggle must receive, is God Himself, it seems necessary that the struggle should correspond to the prize, and that the contests should also be divine, and that God should be to the athletes not only the trainer and the patron of the contests, but also Himself perform the function of virtue in them. And thus he who seeks the end with preparation, and the preparation with the end, to be in harmony. For just as when He sent us into these lands, He did nothing and required nothing
A supernatural, so too, leading us toward God and releasing us from the earth, He left nothing for us to possess that was merely human; but He fitted Himself to all our needs, nor did He leave idle within Himself anything capable of preparing us for that end. For if one might call this misery of ours a sickness, and His care for us a medicine, He did not merely come to the sufferer and deem him worthy of His gaze and His hand, acting as the artisan of what was required for healing, but He Himself became the very medicine, the diet, and whatever else contributes to the recovery of health. If it is a restoration of being, He, from Himself and His own flesh, recalls what was lacking and introduces what was introduced for our decay. For He did not refashion us from the same B matter from which He fashioned us; rather, for the first He took dust from the earth, but for the second He gave His own body. And in restoring life, He does not make the soul—which exists by nature—more beautiful, but by pouring His blood into the hearts of the initiated, He causes His own life to spring up within them. For then, as the scripture says, He breathed the breath of life, but now He shares with us His own Spirit; for, "God," says Paul, "sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, crying, 'Abba, Father.'" C And since there was a need for light, then He said, "Let there be light, and there was light," but that was for servants; now the Lord Himself has shone in our hearts, "He who then said for light to shine out of darkness," to use the voice of Paul. And to say all in a word, in former times He benefited our race through these visible creatures, and governed man through mandates, legations, and laws, employing the service partly of angels and partly of revered men. Now, without an intermediary, He uses Himself for all things.
Let us consider this more deeply. To save the human race He did not send an angel, but He Himself came. It was necessary for people to learn the cause for which He had arrived, and so He did not remain in a certain region and summon those who would hear Him, but He went about D seeking them, so that He might share His words with them. Carrying the greatest of blessings upon His tongue, He proceeded to the doors of those in need of being helped. Indeed, He healed the sick in this way, by being present Himself, by touching them with His hand, and He created eyes for the man born blind by applying spittle to his face—which He Himself had made from the earth by spitting and kneading it with His finger—and He took him up. "And He came near and touched the bier," He says, and He stood at the grave of Lazarus, and let out a voice close by, even though He could have done it from afar if He had wished, by a word and a nod alone, and would have accomplished both these things and even greater things than these, as He is the one who created heaven in this way. But the one would have been a clear proof of His power, while the other was an indication of the benevolence which He had come to demonstrate. And
e who created heaven in this way. But the one would have been a clear proof of His power, while the other was an indication of the benevolence which He had come to demonstrate. A Furthermore, it was necessary for those who were prisoners in Hades to be released, and He did not entrust this work to angels or the rulers of the angels, but He Himself descended into the prison. It was reasonable that the captives should not receive freedom for free, but by being ransomed, and He pays the price B by shedding His blood; in this way, from that time even unto the final day, He releases them, absolves them of responsibility, and washes away the filth of our souls. For He Himself is the one who cleanses, as Paul signifies, saying, "Having through Himself made a cleansing of our sins, He sat down at the right hand of the majesty on high." For this reason He calls Himself a minister, and manifests Himself as ministering, and as having come into the world from God the Father to minister. And what is most important of all, not only in this life—when He appeared and came with human weakness, not to judge the world, at which time He performed the things of a servant and hid all the things of the Lord—but even in the future, when He shall come with power and appear with His Father's glory, in that manifestation, in His own kingdom, He says, "He will gird Himself, and make them recline, and passing by will minister to them." C Rightly so, for through Him do kings reign and princes rule the earth. For in this way He reigned with a genuine and true kingdom, sufficient unto Himself for the kingdom, and thus He ruled those whose lordship He obtained: more cheerful toward friends, more severe toward princes, and showing greater love than a father, and to declare Himself more akin than a member to members, and more necessary than the heart itself, yielding neither to fear, nor suffering Himself to be captivated by reward, but Himself being the power of His kingdom for Himself, and alone binding those governed directly to Himself. For to reign through fear or by receiving payment is certainly not to reign at all; but hope and threats are to be blamed for compelled obedience. Just as, therefore, D he who has his power from elsewhere would not reign legitimately, so neither do we truly serve God if we are subject to Him through any of the aforementioned ways.
Since, however, it was necessary for Him to reign with the most sincere rule (for it was not right that it be otherwise), He discovered how He might accomplish this. And this method was most worthy of admiration. He took the opposite path. And that He might be the true Lord, He assumed the nature of a servant and ministered to the slaves even unto the death of the cross. And thus He took the souls of the servants and brought their will into subjection without any outside help. For this reason also Paul, knowing that this ministry was the cause of the kingdom, says: "He humbled Himself, becoming obedient unto death, even the death of the cross. Wherefore God also highly exalted Him." And the wonderful Isaiah: "For this reason He Himself shall inherit many, and shall divide the spoils of the strong, because He delivered His soul unto death and was reckoned with the lawless." For by the first creation of our nature Christ is Lord, but by the new creation He mastered our will, which is truly among men
am, cum iniquis reputatus est. » Propter primam enim fabricationem Christus naturæ nostræ Dominus est. Propter novam autem creaturam voluntatem subegit; quod vere est inter homines A truly to reign, when he bound and subjugated here the authority according to reason and the autonomy of the will, which make a human being. Hence, "All authority," he says, "has been given to me in heaven and on earth" (Matt. xxviii, 18), as if something new had happened to the Lord before the ages of the world, because along with those in heaven, human nature also acknowledged the common Lord. Moreover, that saying of David, "God hath reigned over the nations" (Ps. xlvii, 9), also hints at this kingdom, according to which the nations are one body with the Savior and fellow-partakers, as Paul says (Eph. iii, 6). For because he is thus united to bodies and souls once and for all, he has become Lord not only of bodies but also of souls and wills, and he holds that kingdom which is truly self-sufficient and pure, himself governing it through himself, as the soul does the body and the head the members. For they are led who think to embrace this yoke, as if they were not living with their own reason, nor using free will. For he says, "I have become as a beast of burden before you" (cf. Ps. lxxiii, 22), and this is what it means for someone to hate and lose one’s own soul, and through what he loses, to save it, when the new creation thus holds sway, and the new Adam entirely conceals the old, and neither of birth, nor of life, nor of death does any of the old leaven remain.
B For indeed, for the old Adam, the body was fashioned from the earth, but the new, he says, was born of God, and the table of each life is a testimony for each. For the earth bestowed the one, but the heavenly one feeds the new man from his own flesh. Because of these things, also when they are dissolved, the one returned to the earth from which he came forth, but the other has gone to Christ, from whom he was taken, and each makes the end appropriate to the dignity of his maker. "For just as is the one from the earth, such also are those from the earth, and just as is the heavenly one, such also are those who are heavenly" (1 Cor. xv, 48), and that is not for the sake of the soul only, but also for the sake of the body itself; for it too is heavenly, just as both of them there are at the same time earthly. For the soul indeed dwells in the hands of the heavenly one, and the body is his member. And it does not, indeed, have a soul, but it is full of the living Spirit, and it lives after the end of the previous life more happily than can be described; if indeed it is not even truly dead at all. For Solomon says, "They appeared to die, and not to the wise, but in the eyes of the foolish" (Wisd. iii, 2). C For just as "Christ, rising from the dead, no longer dies, death shall no longer have dominion over him" (Rom. vi, 9), so the members of Christ shall never see death. For how could they taste of death, hanging from the heart that is always living?
If what is seen is nothing but dust, one ought not to wonder. For the wealth is within. "For your life," he says, "is hidden" (Col. iii, 3), and the treasure is in an earthen vessel. "For we have," Paul said, "this treasure in earthen vessels" (II Cor. iv, 7). Wherefore, to those for whom the things D
A that are outside appear only as mud, Christ will appear, and even that dust itself will be visible in its own beauty, when it shall be seen as a member of that lightning, and it will be like to the sun, and will shine with equal brightness. "The just shall shine," he says, "as the sun in the kingdom of their Father" (Matt. xiii, 43); calling the kingdom of the Father those rays by which He Himself was seen shining to the apostles, the very kingdom of God, as He Himself says, having come in power, they beheld. But the just also shall shine on that day with one brightness and glory, the former made radiant by receiving, the latter by sharing. For this bread, this body, which they will bring there from this table, is that which shall then be seen by the eyes of all upon the clouds, and like lightning B in a moment of time, it will show its beauty to the east and to the west. With this ray the saints live, and from the dead the light does not depart; for the light is always present to the just, and enlightened by it they arrive at that life, to that to which they had always been, then hastening. For what will happen then to each of those who rise again, that bones and parts and members come together with the head to preserve the wholeness of the body, this will also happen to Christ the Savior, the common head of all. For even on the clouds, flashing only, He will receive His own members from everywhere, God in the midst of gods, the beautiful leader of the beautiful host. And just as heavy burdens C that are lifted up, when the binding ties are broken, tend towards the earth and immediately seek the middle place or center; so also the bodies of the saints are indeed fixed to the earth, chained to corruption and remaining subject to tyranny, and because of this "we groan," he says, "in this tabernacle." But when freedom shall be present, they will be carried with incredible force toward Christ, that they may receive their proper place. Wherefore Paul, showing that that course cannot be hindered, calls the thing a "rapture." "We shall be caught up," he says, "in the clouds to meet Christ in the air" (I Thess. iv, 16). And the Savior says that He will take them up. "Then," he says, "two shall be in the field; the one shall be taken, and the other left" (Matt. xxiv, 40), signifying that it is not human, nor situated in themselves, so that there D should be any delay of place; but He Himself will draw, He Himself will carry off, who cannot be a slave to time. For just as from the beginning He did not wait to be sought, but He Himself sought those who were wandering, and having shown the way, then, as they were unable to walk, He Himself lifted them onto His shoulders and carried them, and repairs those who are falling, and corrects those who are slothful, and calls back those who are departing, and altogether does not cease to urge them toward salvation: so also then, He will Himself stir up those who are running the final race toward Him, and will Himself make wings for those who are flying. Therefore He also calls us eagles gathered to the body. "For wheresoever the body shall be," He says, "thither will the eagles also be gathered together" (Matt. xxiv, 28). For they shall come from table to table, from the hidden
A to the now manifest, from the bread to the body. For now, Christ is bread to them, while they still live the human life, and He is the passover, for they are passing from hence to the city in heaven; but when they shall change their strength, and "put forth feathers as eagles," as the wonderful Isaiah says (Isa. xl, 31), then shall they settle upon the body itself, stripped of its veils. The blessed John, signifying this, says: "We shall see Him as He is" (1 John iii, 2). For He is no longer bread to them, when life in the flesh has B finished, nor do they any longer remain in the passover, but He bears many signs of the body that suffered. For the hands are seen with the stigmata, and the feet have the traces of the nails, and the mark of the lance still stands fixed in the side. This supper leads to that body, without which it is impossible to attain it, just as it is to see with poked-out eyes. For if those who do not partake of this supper do not have life in themselves, how can He be the head of dead members, seeing that He is immortal? For one is the power of the table, and one is He who prepares the banquet in both of the worlds; and this is partly the bridal chamber, and partly the preparation for the bridal chamber, and partly the bridegroom himself. Whence, for C those who have not departed with these gifts, there will be no further advantage toward life; but those to whom it has fallen to both receive the grace and to preserve it, have entered into the joy of their Lord, and have entered with the Bridegroom into the bridal chamber (Luc. xvii, 21), and have enjoyed the other delights in the supper, not then obtaining these things, but perceiving more clearly what they brought with them when they came, having beheld Christ. And this is the reason according to which the kingdom of heaven is within us.
ON THE LIFE IN CHRIST, BOOK FIVE.
What perfection is provided to it by the consecration of the holy altar.
Of the holy mysteries this is the account, and in this manner does it possess the preparation for us toward true life. But since the altar is the beginning of every initiation, D whether it is needful to sup, or to receive anointing, or to perform a sacrifice, or indeed to partake of the most perfect things of the bath; if, moreover, as we are able, we should also say something about it itself, and the rite by which it is consecrated,
A let us consider. I do not think I shall have done anything superfluous or irrelevant; for we shall have rendered the explanation more perfect, if we have traversed the foundation of the mysteries, or the root, or whatever else it ought to be called. And so, all those things which are done by the hands of the celebrant, and those which constitute the altar, having hereafter been set forth in order, let us then examine what is the enigma of each and what it implies.
First, the hierarch, having put on white linen cloths, and girded both his arms and the rest of his body, falls down before God, prostrate, not upon the bare floor, and having besought that he may receive the end sought for concerning his labor, he rises B and gathers the table which is laid out, and plants and fixes it, not only commanding others, but also putting his own hands to it. And being placed, he washes it with warm water, with which he prayed that it might have the power to purge not only visible defilement, but also the contagion cast upon it by demons; then he perfumes it by pouring thereon wine of the finest quality and oil of stilled rose, I suppose, and after these things he adds the holy chrism and anoints it, marking the cross on it for the third time, and singing to God that prophetic and most celebrated song. Then he covers it with a white cloth and adorns it with precious veils, and spreads other linens over these, likewise anointed with the divine chrism just as the table, which, having been placed, must at the last lie immediately beneath the holy boards upon the table. Having performed this ceremony, he removes and strips off the linens himself, and wearing the hierarchal vestment, he goes out to one of the neighboring C holy houses. Thence, having taken the bones of the holy martyrs which have been prepared for this very purpose and placed upon one of the boards of the altar, where he places the fearful Gift, and having covered it with that which covers it, he lifts it with great reverence, and bearing it upon his head, he proceeds to the house which is being sanctified or dedicated, amid lamps, chants, incense, and perfumes with which many honor him as he proceeds. And thus proceeding, when he reaches the temple, he stands before the closed doors and bids those who are within, with the very words of David, to open the gates to the King of Glory, and in turn he hears what he [David] introduces as the angels answering one another as the Savior was ascending into heaven; the gates being opened, he enters the sanctuary, having that vessel covered upon his head. And when he is within the altar and at the very table, he places it upon it D and uncovers it, and he takes the riches lying therein from it, and places them in a chest corresponding in capacity to the size of the things being placed therein, and after this, having poured the most holy perfume upon them, he deposits them beneath the sacred table. These things being thus accomplished, the house is now a house of prayer, and the table is suited and prepared for the sacrifice, and is truly an altar.
A Let us now explain the reason why these things are done when these ceremonies are completed, and why the house and the table are able to receive such things as a result of what the priest has done, examining each point. The vestment, then, and the fact that the hierarch arrives at the celebration prepared in this way, portray the type of the human altar; for David says that he who has washed away all wickedness and been made whiter than snow has gathered himself together, folded himself up, and turned toward himself, so that God may dwell purely in the soul and make the heart an altar. The signs of these things are, in the case of the first, that the vestment is white and shining, and in the case of the second, that he is turned entirely toward himself and folded up with his body. In this way, having shown by these things that the altar is, as it were, within himself before the sanctuary, he then reaches out his hand to perform the work in the sanctuary, especially since both in artisans and in workers of every kind, thought composes the work within itself before the hands begin, and the intellect provides a rule for the hands, while they reveal it upon the material. Moreover, one might see that painters paint according to an archetype, drawing their skill from the tablets they imitate, and furthermore, they use such things in their memory, looking toward the example in their soul. And this is true not only of painters, but one could see it happening with sculptors and builders and all creators of works. If there were some device to see the soul of the artisan, you would see the house itself, or the statue, or any of the works without the material.
B Furthermore, the hierarch acts as an example of the altar not only because he is the artisan of such things, but because among visible things, only the nature and substance of humans can truly be a temple of God and an altar, in such a way that what is set up by human hands preserves an image and a type of it. Hence it was necessary for the reality to appear before the image in this arrangement, and for the truth to precede the types. For He who said, “Shall you build Me a house to dwell in?” says, “I will dwell in them and walk among them.” This would mean, I think, that one who wishes to be of benefit to others ought first to be of benefit to himself, and that one desiring to impart such great virtue to inanimate things should first render these things profitable to himself, just as Paul also deemed it right for a bishop who was to be a benefit to a city and to peoples to begin from his own house, and for him who would rule the house well first to govern himself according to right reason. Now, he stands in need of God for the work; for no one could accomplish anything, let alone the mysteries in which the whole work is purely His, without obtaining the grace of God. And since the common Master of the servants did not give thought through a command, nor did He send those who would take care, but came Himself, and was the direct agent of all things by which it was necessary to save us, for this reason the hierarch, showing himself to be His disciple, with his own hand sets up the
A altar; it was fitting, whence all opportunities for our salvation flow. And he does this while having that psalm on his lips: "I will exalt thee, O God my king," which contains thanksgiving toward God and the memory of His wondrous works. For if the law of Paul commands us to give thanks in all things, how much more justly is this done in regard to the head and summit of all goods? After this he appends another psalm: "The Lord shepherds me, and nothing will be wanting to me," in which not only is the goodness of God simply praised, but His very presence is touched upon, along with these benefits. For it mentions the baptism, the divine unction, the cup, and the table that brings the holy bread; and the baptism he calls "water of rest" and "place of green pasture," and states that he, being well-shepherded by God, will dwell in this at the end. For since sin brought both labors to those who dare [to commit it] and filled the earth for us with thorns, it is not absurd, I think, that the water which casts out sin should be called water of rest against labors, and a place of green pasture against thorns and thistles; and for the final lodging [it is called such] because the ultimate good we seek, and in which we rest—which is to receive God—is found here. And the water can also be called "of rest" for that reason: because it calms the desire of our nature and makes it quiet. This is what many prophets and kings, he says, desired to see.
Why then does he who falls down before God and conceives prayers not touch the floor of the temple? B Is it because it has not yet attained consecration, nor is it fit for the mystery? And since it is not yet made a house of prayer, how could it immediately support the one praying? Indeed, conversely, it was necessary for Moses, when he was about to set foot upon the holy ground, to loose his sandals, bringing nothing in between for that colloquy; just as it was necessary for the people of the Hebrews, then dedicated to God, to tread the land of Egypt with sandals. Having done this, he then wipes the table with lustral waters. For since the common tyrant reduced to servitude man, the master of all things perceived by sight, he later invaded all sensible things, as if they were a palace once the king had fallen. C Wherefore, the material taken from there in each of the mysteries has need of a certain purgative work against the powers of the evil one. Just as the water, with which it is necessary for the initiator to baptize, the priest, having purified it of all diabolical malice by prayers, then pronounces the ritual and initiatory chant; by the same reasoning, he first cleanses the table with waters that banish evils, and at the same time demonstrates the way in which one must run toward the good, which is to turn away from evil first. For which reason, while performing these things, he recites the psalm sung over the evils of men: "You shall sprinkle me with hyssop, and I shall be cleansed; you shall wash me, and I shall be made whiter than snow." And after this he gives thanks to God and reveres Him, which he does in all consecrations; for all things indeed must be administered to the glory of God. D
A especially the mysteries, seeing that they are more beneficial than all things else and belong to God alone.
But because, before divine graces, we must not only purify ourselves but also, as far as we are able, manifest the virtues that are conjoined to them—since it is impossible to attain the Bestower of such things otherwise (for God grants what is desired not to those who sleep, but to those who pray; and He anoints the one who struggles, and gives the gift of temperance for acting, through which it is possible to be temperate, and altogether, everywhere, the desire for what is sought must be demonstrated not only by prayers but also by the works themselves)—for this reason, before the most divine ointment, which is accustomed to bring down grace from God to the altar, he moistens the table with those things among us that are sweet-smelling, with wine and rose oil; of which the former has only pleasure for us, while the latter also B contributes to life, in order to show that, having brought everything human, He offers the first-fruits of both, of those things which complete our entire life—both the things necessary for living and those which are pleasant. For when He Himself came, He both gave life and added more besides, not only by recalling us to life and breaking the bonds of death, but also by making us kings and imparting to us immortal delights, and further adding the mystery which, since it contains the whole power of the mystery, directly relates to the sacrifice itself.
For since the Savior established it from the beginning by these two things, having taken, He says, the bread and having blessed C the hand, we seek both that hand and that voice. The priests utter the voice, and it is effective, as if by His command. For He says, "Do this in remembrance of me." And in place of the hand is the ointment. For the divine Dionysius says that the ointment itself introduces Jesus. But the apostles added their own hands as well, for they also possessed this grace. Their successors stood in need of this initiation, being powerful in voice alone. For indeed, to the first priests, their hands were the altar; for their successors, Christ built the houses through them that receive the initiates. And while he pours the ointment upon the table, he adds nothing like before, but chants to God this song alone, defined by a few syllables of the Hebrew voice, but most holy in its meaning—that of the choir of the holy prophets. For it is possible to praise by a long discourse, enumerating D the deeds performed with their power; and it is possible to crown him who is praised, so to speak, with an encomium included in few words. It is fitting, however, I think, that the former should be for deeds that are past or still to come, so that the words may be in their place for those beholding them. The second I consider to be for those things that are present, and of the things which are taking place, when, with the things themselves appearing, there is no need at all for proclaiming words, except insofar as to demonstrate pleasure and wonder; just as the prophets prophesied until John (Matt. xi, 13). For what need was there of messengers from then on, when He who had been announced was present? For there was nothing left but to proclaim Him and to honor the rest.
A And there remained what also seemed good to the angels, to whom He first appeared when He had come upon the earth, whose voice it was that danced around Him saying, "Glory to God in the highest." Thus, therefore, the hierarch, since he recognizes the benefactor who is being called upon in the very works, neither recites any of the former prayers, nor recounts the works of loving-kindness, since they are present before his eyes, but he does this alone—he exults with a mystical song.
For since the power of the altar is the ointment, it was necessary that the underlying material should be suitable for this power. For thus it would act better—just as fire and light do, through suitable bodies, I think—since the very name of the Savior, which, when invoked, was able to do all things, did not display its own strength equally in the mouths of all. And so, having sought what the celebrant might place under the ointment that would be fitting for the body, he found nothing more suitable than the bones of the martyrs; and having anointed these and placed them, anointed, upon the table, he completes the mystery. For there is naught more akin and related to the mysteries of Christ than the martyrs, with whom He has in common both body and spirit and the likeness of death, and everything else; He who B stood by them while they lived, and does not abandon the bodies of the dying, but, being united to their souls, is in some way present and intermingled even with this silent dust. And if it is allowed anywhere in these things which move the sense of sight to find and to grasp the Savior, it is allowed in these bones. For this reason, having reached the temple where they are to be brought, he opens the gates for them with those very same words with which he would bring in Christ Himself, and he honors them in other respects just as he honors the sacred gifts. Furthermore, these bones are the true temple of God and the altar, whereas this one built by hands is an imitation of the true temple. Therefore, it was fitting that the former should be applied to the latter, and the latter be taken for the perfection of the former, just as the new law takes the old for its completion.
C But when he has now finished all the rites and has prepared the house for the sacrifice and for the prayers, having lit a lamp upon the altar, he departs. First, indeed, as I believe, indicating the time when the sacrifice was instituted from the beginning—that is, around evening, at the first lighting of lamps. Then, that this lamp might bring back to our memory that lamp which was lit by the one who had lost the drachma, which he found hidden under much earth and darkness, inasmuch as it was lying under the earth, among those in the underworld. For this, I believe, is what is meant by sweeping the house: to have uncovered everything, that is, and to have brought into the light Him who also entered the underworld and filled it with His light. D For since He, being the only-begotten, poured Himself out for the sake of His servants, naturally the Father has been reconciled and looks upon us with favor, and admits those who approach, as if He were finding the beloved Son Himself in us. Whence it followed that the ointment should be poured out into the house in which we call upon God and pray, so that it might turn the God who is called upon there back to itself, and according to the
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that [true temple], and share something in common with it, it was necessary, just as he was anointed with the divinity, that he too, in the same manner, should become a Christ, anointed with the myrrh. Now, I call the true temple of God his most holy body, just as he himself called it, saying: “Destroy this temple.”
Sequitur deinceps in eodem codice fol. 144 a, usque ad fol. 146 a, brevis quædam de libero arbitrio et prædestinatione disputatio tertia manu exarata, quæ sic se habet: It seems in the discourse concerning free will, that there is an inclination toward both—that is, toward the good and toward the evil—so that if the inclination toward both were not present, neither would free will itself exist. For this reason, the entire work of every law is to permit one thing and to forbid another; hence, it is necessary that laws be established for those capable of acting in different ways at different times, but for those who are fixed and unchanging, there is no place for laws. And where there is no place for law, there is no place for authority; for the law, whether written or unwritten, is nothing other than authority. Since free will itself is a certain kind of authority, it could have no place when the will is directed definitively toward the good alone. It has also been said concerning goods that come about through zeal and exercise: “For the righteous, the law is not laid down.” Yet every righteous person, however much he may differ in holiness, always possesses some inclination toward evil and is able to change from virtue to wickedness. But when there is no inclination toward evil, and no power for it, how could B the law and authority have any place in such a person? Therefore, it is impossible for free will to exist without the inclination toward both. Furthermore, to have one's inclination fixed toward one thing is contrary to the principle of freedom and power. For that which is released and free is not purely preserved; and free will is nothing other than ruling oneself and utilizing oneself with power and without hindrance according to one’s will. For we do not utilize ourselves without hindrance in regard to knowledge, nor in action, nor in any other human matter, but only in regard to the will, because we are able to will all things, even those that are impossible. Therefore, when we only wish for the good or the evil, and we have no inclination toward the other, the liberty of the will—which is free will and authority—is hindered in this respect. Furthermore, it is said that free will was placed in man because of moral choice, so that by choosing the good he might become worthy of crowns, just as the Theologian says in his discourse for Pascha: “You honored him with free will, so that [the benefit of the good might be] no less [the possession of the one who chose] than of the one who provided the seeds.”
But moral choice cannot exist without the inclination toward both, hence free will would be in vain if moral choice were not posited, and neither nature nor God does anything in vain. Therefore, free will cannot exist if the inclination toward evil is not posited. In the contrary view, that the inclination toward evil is not in the concept of free will: for the will seeks only the good by its very nature, and the evil only incidentally, insofar as it finds in it some image of the good; hence, when it reaches the good alone, as though freed from deception and truly attaining its own goal, then it becomes its own master and has power over itself. For that which is deceived serves in a certain way; and the fact that the will tends entirely toward the good does not abolish free will, but rather establishes it. Furthermore, everything is perfected when it attains its own complete object, just as sight [is perfected] when it attains its complete object, light. For then it is in act according to what it essentially is; and the object of the will is the good. When, therefore, it tends both toward the good and toward the evil, it is not perfected, for it possesses it imperfectly; but when it tends only toward the good, it is delivered from the evil for this reason: that it attains the good completely. For the deficient attainment of the good introduces the inclination toward the evil. But when it attains the good completely, it is perfect, as has been said; and being perfect, it cannot lose any of the goods that belong to it; rather, it might gain what it did not have before. Free will is a good that belongs to the will, in accordance with which man is also said to resemble God; therefore, it is impossible for free will to be lost, given that the will is posited as having inclination toward the good alone. Furthermore, in the future restoration, the will of the saints will be toward the good alone, but then to say that they have lost their free will is completely absurd. For it is the same thing to say "to lose free will" and "to lose the human being." For the best of things in man is the human being, just as the best of things in a city is the city, according to Aristotle (Pol. IV, ch. 11). And the best of what is in man is free will; for he would not resemble God in this respect if it were not itself the best of what is in man. But it is necessary that free will remain in the restoration, first, as has been said, because the human being must rise whole, and second, because that time is the time of the saints' likeness to God. “For when,” he says, “[he] is manifested, we shall be like him.”
A For although the constitution of life in the beginning depends solely upon the hand of the Savior, yet to keep what has been firmly established and to remain alive is a work of our own diligence; and it is necessary that human effort and that which proceeds from us should also contribute here, so that we do not destroy what we have received, but rather that we may preserve the grace and the treasure that we have obtained from him, holding it in our hands until our end, and that we may depart having kept it. It remains that we should now investigate in this business by what means this can be accomplished. And it is indeed reasonable [...] and for this reason, the self-governed power will shine out all the more, as carrying in us the image of God. Third, that the age to come is the time of rewards, whence that part of the soul by which it contended for the sake of virtue must of necessity exist then, so that it may be crowned. For those who contend for the sake of virtue and the good, contend according to the self-governed power, according to the authority of the will. For by this, one becomes either good or wicked. Nothing, therefore, prevents an individual from having the self-governed power even while the inclination toward evil is entirely absent. Furthermore, from the definition of the self-governed power, the proposition becomes clear. For "self-governed" is that which rules itself, and that which is master of itself is that which uses itself without hindrance; and one uses something when one arranges it toward the end that is proper to it, for which it was made. For instance, one uses a house when one dwells in it or settles another in it. For then one arranges it toward the end proper to it, and one uses it as a house and for its own sake; but when one burns it, for instance, or tears it down, then one does not use it as a house nor for its own sake, but uses it accidentally. Therefore, the principle of a thing is [present] for its own sake when one uses it for its own sake—that is, when one arranges it toward the end proper to it. Since evil is no one’s end, for nothing was created for the sake of evil, it is evident that one who uses a thing for evil does not use that thing for its own sake, nor does he rule it for its own sake. Therefore, when the will leans only toward the good, then it uses itself and rules itself truly, because it arranges itself toward its proper end, the good; but when it also leans toward evil, then it neither uses itself truly nor rules itself, as it misses the mark of the end. It appears, therefore, that the inclination toward evil is rather contrary to the reason of the self-governed power. B Resolution of the contrary arguments: To the first: In those who always live according to the law and abide in the good alone, even if the principle is not in the process of becoming, it exists in having been accomplished. For as long as the ruler needs admonition, laws, and commands, he has not yet begun, nor has he perfected what he sought, because he does not have all those over whom he rules abiding in his laws, which is his goal; and then the principle has not yet been accomplished for him, but is in the process of becoming. But when he needs no command, as if all things in which he wishes them to remain are abiding steadily, then the principle has been accomplished for him and is perfected; and only then does he truly rule, when the will has no inclination toward evil. To the second: The authority of movement is hindered when there is a hindrance from outside to the movement; but when the object being moved is constrained by itself, then the movement is said to be hindered, but the authority of the movement is not at all. To the third: The self-governed power was given to man directly for the sake of moral choice, and ultimately for the sake of the inclination toward the good. Therefore, in those who abide in the good, even if moral choice is not present, yet there is an inclination toward the good, for the sake of which the moral choice also exists, and therefore it is not in vain. And if one who commits mortal sin can please God by performing almsgiving or other works of virtue, and appears to be able to do so because of these things, [it is because] the good is more potent than the evil; whence it follows, as in the cases of [...] and the beginning of the Savior’s hand, it depends solely on this; yet to guard what has been fixed and to remain alive is the work of our own diligence, and there is a need here for human effort and that which is contributed by us, so that we may not destroy it having received it, but through to the end save the grace and the treasure that we have from hence in our hands and depart with it; and to consider these things, by which it is possible to succeed, would henceforth be timely in the present struggle. And this matter might also reasonably be a part of our discourse regarding life. For just as in the case of those things [...] C of spiritual qualities from the good, the human being is rather formed as if from a more active quality, than from evil. Therefore, one would be earnest rather because of virtue than base because of vice; and if this is so, he is also good; and such a one would also please God. Furthermore, God is more ready toward rewards than toward punishments, but He appears to punish the sins of those living in virtue; for if the earnest commit some sin in the meantime, and a sin not unto death, they are liable to a corresponding punishment. If, therefore, the punishment of those who have sinned is not hindered by the virtue of those who have dared [to sin], then much more will the reward of good works not be hindered by the vice of those who have achieved [virtue]; it is therefore possible in some way for one who commits mortal sin to please God. Furthermore, in the history regarding Lazarus, it is said by Abraham to the rich man: “You received your good things in your life.” There, the explanation says that he performed some good works, of which the reward was to receive his prosperity in the present life. But he would not have seemed to God to be doing things worthy of a reward if he had not in any way pleased Him in those matters; therefore, it is possible for one who commits mortal sin to please God in some way. But the Apostle says the contrary: “Those who are in the flesh cannot please God,” and the divine James says: “If anyone keeps the whole law, but fails in one, he is guilty of all.” For those who commit sins unto death do not have within themselves the love toward God; for this reason they are also called dead. For the life of the soul is union with God; and love is that which unites; whence it is necessary for one who is in such death to be destitute of love. And without love, the Apostle says that every work of virtue is nothing. And that which is non-existent or vain cannot please God. D How then, one might say, are those who perform virtue for the sake of a reward or fear of punishments, having not yet attained to love, counted in the flock of those who are saved, because they do nothing contrary to love, but rather perform the works of those who love, and through these are hastening toward love; and they love and desire this very act of loving, whence they are not strangers to love; but those who commit mortal sin not only do not love, but even dare the contrary—the things of the enemies—according to that which is written: “The mind of the flesh is enmity toward God.” Resolution of the contrary arguments: To the first: The works performed by one who commits mortal sin do not save the reason of the good, as has been shown, and for this reason he cannot act against evil. To the second: The vice of the earnest man, if he happens to sin together with his virtue, is truly vice; but the virtue of one who commits a sin unto death is not truly virtue, for the reasons mentioned. Whence, in that case, the punishment is not hindered, but here, the reward is hindered. To the third: The rich man did not receive his reward—the present prosperity—from God because he pleased God, but because he himself sought this, just as those who fast or give alms for the sake of vainglory, “receive,” as He says, “their reward.”
A Likewise, it is reasonable and happens to be the case that we should not love life merely because we have received it, nor fall asleep as if we possessed everything—but rather, we ought to inquire by what means we might preserve it. In the same way, while we have added the second things to the first, it would follow to discourse on how and whence we have lived, what we have suffered, and then what we must do so as not to betray our happiness. Indeed, this is virtue and living according to right reason; many of the ancients as well as many of those who came after have spoken about these things, and there is nothing that needed to be said which has been left out, so that this labor of ours runs the risk of being redundant. However, since the matters we undertook from the beginning demand that we speak of these things, if we do not add them, the discourse will not be complete. We must therefore, as far as possible, set aside those things peculiar to each man’s individual way of life—of which there are many—and consider those things which we all owe to God in common. For one could not say that the same virtue is required for those who take part in public affairs as for those who manage their own, nor for those who, after being baptized, have promised nothing more to God, as for those whose life is solitary, who have chosen virginity and having nothing, and who are not only not masters of another’s property, but not even of their own selves.
B That which is the common debt for all who are called by the name of Christ, just as the very name implies, is something that everyone must equally bring forth; and for this, no matter what excuse they offer, those who neglect it cannot be excused—whether they plead their age, their trade, their fortune, or any condition whatsoever, be it sickness, physical constitution, the remotest retreat of lands, solitude, cities, public clamor, or any other of all the things to which those accused are wont to flee. As there is nothing that can withstand Him, and since it is possible for all not to oppose the will of Christ, but to order their life according to what pleases Him while observing the laws derived therefrom as diligently as possible, they cannot say that this is beyond human strength. For otherwise, punishment would not exist for those who break the law, and there is no Christian who does not know within his own conscience that he is required to bring everything into action. For those who from the beginning have approached Him have all alike promised that they would follow Him in all things, and having bound themselves by these compacts, they have thus partaken of the sacred mysteries. C And since these commands of the Savior are common debts to all the faithful, and are possible for those who will to perform them, and are highly necessary—without which one could not reach Christ—to be separated from the greater and most beautiful part of Him, in will and in purpose, is a necessity. For it is necessary that he who shares in the blood should also share in the intent; and thus to love in one way and war in another, and to be children who are blameworthy, and members that are dead—to which it is of no benefit at all to be joined and born, just as it is for the branch of the true vine D that has been separated—its end is to be cast out and withered and thrown into the fire. Thus, from…
A these things, it follows that one who has chosen to live in Christ must hang from that heart and head (for our life comes from nowhere else). But since it is impossible to be able to do this without willing the same things, it is necessary to train the mind, as much as is humanly possible, in accordance with the will of Christ, and to prepare it both to desire the same things and to rejoice in the same things as He. For it is impossible for opposing desires to arise from one heart. "For the evil man," He says, "out of the evil treasure of his heart knows how to bring forth nothing other than evil, and the good man that which is good." And just as it was with the believers in Palestine, because they desired the same things, "the heart," it is said, "and the soul were one," B so in the same way, if anyone has not joined himself with Christ in mind and purpose, but walks a path contrary to His commandments, he does not guide his heart in the same direction as Him, but it is clear that he is hanging from another heart. For, on the contrary, David found favor according to his own heart, because, "Your law," he says, "I have not forgotten." If, then, those who do not hang from that heart are bereft of life, and cannot hang from it unless they will the same things, let us consider how we might be able to desire the same things as Christ and rejoice in the same things as Him, that we may be able to live.
The beginning of every action is desire or petition, but the beginning of desire is thought. Therefore, we must strive above all things C to lead the eye of the soul away from vain things and to keep the heart always full of good thoughts, so that it may never be empty and become a seat and dwelling place for wicked thoughts. But among the many things with which it is fitting to occupy the soul and to spend the mind’s effort and study with pleasure, the discourse on the mysteries—both in speaking and in thinking—is seen to be the most delightful and most fruitful, and from it our riches have flowed. Let us therefore consider what we were before we were initiated, what we have become after initiation, what our former slavery was, what the freedom and kingdom we now possess is, and what great goods have already been granted to us and what great ones are laid up for us. And before all these things, who it is who bestows all these things upon us, how great is His beauty, how good He is, how He loved the human race, and how immense His love is even now. D For if these things have occupied the mind and possessed the soul, it is not easy for the thought to look elsewhere, nor to transfer the desire away from such good and such delightful things. For the benefits of God excel in their multitude and magnitude; and the love by which He was moved to bestow these things surpasses the human capacity by its own excellence.
For just as human love, if it exceeds measure and is greater than can be comprehended, drives those who love out of their state
so too did love toward mankind empty God. A For He does not, while abiding in His own place, simply call unto Himself the servant whom He loved, but He Himself descends to seek him, and the Wealthy One arrives at the poor man’s lodging; and, approaching him, He reveals His longing by His own self, and seeks to be loved in return. And when He is treated with contempt, He does not withdraw; nor is He indignant at the insult; and having suffered rejection, He sits at the gates; and to show His love, there is nothing He does not do, enduring torments and finally undergoing death. Since, of the two things that make a lover manifest and in a certain way triumphant—namely, the ability to do good to the beloved in all things, and the willingness to suffer terrible things and endure pain for his sake—the second is by far a greater proof of friendship than the first. But since it was impossible for God, who is far removed from the sense of all evils, to suffer, while He was still able, as a human, to do good to a human—being unable to endure scourging or to tolerate torture for him, and yet His charity being infinite, there was no sign available to declare it; and yet it was not right that it should pass unnoticed how vehemently He loved, but that a proof of the highest charity must be given to us and the supreme love demonstrated: B He devises, prepares, and accomplishes such an emptying as this, through which He could suffer dreadful things and feel pain. And so, by persuading those He had endured for—showing that he indeed loves them beyond measure—He draws to Himself the one who, believing he was hated, had fled from that good Lord.
The most novel thing of all is this: for He did not merely endure the most dreadful things and die from scourges and wounds, but even after rising from the dead and raising His body from corruption, He still retains these wounds, and bears the scars on His body, and appears with them to the eyes of the angels; and He considers this a glory, and rejoices in showing that He has suffered terrible things. And while He has cast off all other things that belong to the body—having a spiritual body in which nothing of weight, or density, or any other bodily affection was left behind—He by no means cast off the scars, nor did He entirely erase the wounds; but He thought it right to cherish them because of His love for man, because through them He found the one who was lost, and by being wounded He captured the one He loved. C For in any other sense, how could it be consistent for the traces of wounds to remain in an immortal body, which art and nature sometimes heal and delete even in mortal and corruptible beings? But, as it seems, it was His desire to suffer for us repeatedly; and since this was not possible—because His body had once and for all escaped corruption—and at the same time wishing to spare the men who had struck Him, He decided at least to preserve in His body the marks of His execution and the traces of the wounds which He had once received when nailed to the cross, to be borne through endless ages: so that it might be manifest to all that He was crucified for His servants, and that His side was opened by a lance from afar, and that even with that ineffable radiance, He possesses these as a glory to the King. D What could be equal to this love? What man has ever loved so much?
What mother so tenderly and ardently loved the children born of her? What father has so embraced his sons? Or who, after all, has pursued any good with such a mad love, that for the sake of what he loved, he not only endured it with equanimity and did not change his love toward the ungrateful one, but even esteemed the very wounds themselves as his greatest achievement? A Although these things are not only characteristics of one who loves intensely, but also of one who respects marvelously, since it is of the highest honor for Him not to be ashamed of the infirmities of our nature, but to sit on a royal throne with those very traces of the wounds which, as they happened to man and one who is weak, he possesses. And He has not only honored nature in the aggregate so remarkably, yet neglected the individuals, but has invited all to this diadem, has freed them from slavery, has made them sons, has opened heaven to all, and, having shown the way and how it is possible to fly up thereto, has even given wings. And not content with these, He Himself nonetheless goes before, and sustains, and encourages the slothful. Not yet have I brought forward what is greater. For the Lord is not only with His servants to this extent, and participates in things that are theirs, nor does He merely give a hand, but He has given Himself to us, as much as He is, for whom we are temples of the living God; these limbs are the members of Christ; the Cherubim adore the Head of these members; these feet, these hands hang from that very heart. B
To revolve these things in the mind is so useful and so pleasant that nothing is greater. For as we weigh these things, and these reflections grow strong in the soul, in the first place, no access will lie open in us for any evil thought. Then, having perceived the benefits, it will be permitted us to increase our love toward the Benefactor; for loving so intensely, we shall become both doers of His commandments and participants in His will. "For he who loves me," He says, "will keep my commandments." C Furthermore, recognizing our own dignity, how great it is, we would not easily squander it, nor would we endure to serve a fugitive slave, being aware that we have attained a kingdom. We shall not open our mouth for talk joined with wickedness, if we keep in mind the table and what kind of blood has stained this tongue purple. With what eyes shall we gaze upon illicit things, through which we have drawn in such fearful mysteries? We shall not move our feet toward evil, we shall not extend our hands, if we have the mind of the soul exercising itself in these things. Just as, therefore, these members of Christ are both holy and, like a vial, contain His blood; or rather, they are clothed in the Savior Himself, not like a garment, nor like innate skin, but so much more deeply, in that this garment is joined and grown together with those who are clothed far more than the very joints themselves. For one might amputate those things even against the will of their owners, but no one, neither of men nor of demons, shall strip away Christ from those who have once put Him on, whether they be willing or unwilling: "Neither tribulation," says Paul, "nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature," D can in any way prevail by power. For of the martyrs of Christ...
the Wicked One was able, by the hands of tyrants, to strip off their skin, to mutilate them, to cut their limbs to pieces, to crush their bones, to spill their entrails, and to tear out their viscera; but to snatch away this garment and to strip Christ’s blessed ones, his devices were so far from succeeding that, by the very means through which he thought he could strip them, he—unwittingly—clothed them all the more.
What, then, could be more holy than this body, to which Christ clings more than any natural union? We shall therefore revere and preserve its sanctity if, being aware of such wondrous radiance, we keep it before the eyes of our soul at all times. For if we know that temples, and vessels, and everything dedicated—because we recognize them as indeed dedicated—are kept secure from plunderers in every way, how much less shall we expose more noble things to being plundered? For there is nothing holier than a human being, with whose nature God has joined Himself. Let us consider, indeed, before whom B every knee shall bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth, and who it is that shall come in the clouds "with great power and glory," endowed with incomparable splendor. This human being shall be even as God. And each of us shall truly be able to shine brighter than the sun, to be caught up above the clouds, to see that Body of God, to be raised up toward Him, to fly toward Him, to approach Him, and to be beheld by Him in kindness. For when the Master appears, a choir of good servants shall stand around Him, and as He shines, they too shall shine. What a spectacle, a multitude of lights beyond numbering, above the clouds—men raised on high and flying, a celebration for which no example exists; a people of gods surrounding God; the beautiful surrounding the All-Beautiful; servants surrounding the Master, who does not begrudge them the communion of His splendor, nor think that His own glory will be diminished if He receives many as partners in His kingdom—which those who rule over men do; for even if they give all things, they do not suffer them even in a dream to share in their scepters. For He does not deal with them as servants, nor does He hold them in the place of servants; but counting them as friends, and keeping for them the law of friendship which He Himself established from the beginning, He makes all things common; and not this or that alone, but He gives them the kingdom itself and the crown as a reward. For what else could the blessed Paul C mean when he says they are "heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ," and that those who have shared in the hardships shall reign with Christ? What is so pleasant as to be able to vie with the joy of that spectacle? It is a choir of the blessed, a people of those who rejoice! And He, indeed, flashes forth and descends from heaven to earth; but the earth, in turn, brings forth other suns to the Sun of Justice, and all things are filled with light. Thence, those who by exercise, and affliction, and labors, and concern for their fellow-men, have proven their zeal and eagerness for Christ; and since they have imitated His death, D and have delivered themselves up to swords and fire and death
A to themselves, still displaying the scars upon their shining bodies and triumphing in the marks of their wounds as if in an inscription of trophies—a circle of the bravest, made illustrious by wounds—beside the King, who by being slain has conquered, and who, as Paul says, is crowned with glory and honor for the suffering of death.
If we occupy ourselves with meditating upon these things and dwell on them at all hours, both the dignity of our nature and the kindness of God will become known to us. This will most effectively keep us from wickedness, and if we should happen to stumble, it will easily repair us. For since there are many things that can hinder our salvation, the greatest of all is that, when we have committed any sin whatsoever, we do not immediately turn to God and ask for pardon, but being ashamed and afraid, we imagine the path to Him to be troublesome and difficult, and we think Him angry and hostile toward us, and that a single, special preparation is required for those who wish to approach Him. B Yet the kindness of God expels such thoughts from the soul altogether. For he who has truly known how gentle He is, and is ignorant of that saying, "While you are yet speaking," He will say, "Behold, I am here," what could hinder him from approaching Him immediately after he has sinned? For this is the common enemy's stratagem and trick against us—to stir up confidence and audacity while soliciting us to sin, but once we have dared the most terrible things and have fallen, to instill in us an absurd shame and fear, so that having caused the one to make us fall, the other may not allow us to rise, or rather, the former leads us away from God, while the latter does not permit us to return to Him, and thus, by contrary ways, he drags us into one single pit.
These things must be avoided with all diligence, specifically audacity before sin and shame and fear after sin, for they are of no advantage. For this fear is not a spur, but a kind of numbness and torpor to souls; we do not blush at our wounds so that we might find aid and healing, but so that we might flee the eyes of the Savior, just as Adam hid himself, C fleeing the hand of the Physician because of the wound (when he ought to have sought it, lest sin triumph over him), and offering his wife as an excuse, so that, as far as it depended on him, he might cover and veil the weakness of his own will. And just as Cain after him, seeking to be hidden, thought he could be hidden from Him to whose eyes all things are open. For it is profitable, and there is need, to feel fear, and to blush, and to be macerated in spirit, and to subject the body, when these things can be directed toward God. "From their fruits," He says, "you will know them." And since it is not only shame and fear, but a heavy sadness that also follows sin, not even this will harm those who fully understand the kindness of God. For even if they are conscious of the most wicked sins, they will not for that reason cast away their hope of pardon, knowing that there is nothing so unworthy of forgiveness that it could overcome the clemency of God. D They will, however, be affected by a salutary sadness, and they will take care to increase it, while they will put to flight that other sadness which ruins their good hopes.
A That there is a twofold sorrow regarding sins committed, one which pertains to amendment and one which brings destruction to those who are gripped by it, is witnessed clearly by each: the blessed Peter, for the one, and the vile Judas, for the other. In the case of the former, sorrow preserved his intention and united him to Christ, as he wept bitterly no less than he had erred before; the latter, Judas, it led to the noose. And he went away bearing his bonds at the time of the general liberation, when the purification of the whole world was being poured out, having despaired of his own purification as that of one man alone. B But so that, knowing these things from afar, we may accept the one and flee from the other, we must distinguish between the two passions, and note what it is that makes the one do us good and the other harm. For since, when we sin, we become wicked both toward God and toward ourselves, to be sorry for our ingratitude toward the Master will not bring any harm—indeed, it is most opportune for us—but to entertain certain wondrous opinions about ourselves, and then, seeing them refuted, to be vexed, to wail, and to press the heart with a bitter remorse because it is not worth living having fallen into such great evils—this sorrow we must turn away from, as it is clearly the mother of death C and of thinking too highly of ourselves, whereas the other [sorrow] awakens love toward the Master and leads us to know clearly our Benefactor, and the fact that, although we stand in debt to Him, we contribute nothing and even repay His goodness with evils. Therefore, just as arrogance is a crime, so also is the sorrow caused by it, when accepted into the soul, akin to crime. And conversely, charity toward Christ is to be praised above all; then, to be wounded by his darts, to grieve, to be worn down, and to be dissolved—this the prudent reckon as a place of supreme blessedness.
On the necessity of constant meditation
D Since, however, the sorrow full of divine grace proceeds from charity, and charity is rooted in thoughts that embrace Christ and His benevolence, it will be worth our while to turn these over in our memory and mind, and never to take a vacation from such work, but on purpose to meditate on these things by ourselves, and to ponder them, and to make them the delight of our speech and the subject matter of our gatherings, and to strive, moreover, so that with no business to distract or divide us, we might practice this zeal constantly, as long as life provides, if possible; if not, then for a long time, so that they may be most deeply imprinted on the soul and take full possession of the heart. For neither could fire do anything to that upon which it falls, should it not be in continuous contact, nor could a discursive thought move the heart toward any passion, but it requires a long and continuous span of time.The thoughts, therefore, that fire our desire for beautiful and pleasant things of sense—because the senses operate within us from the beginning, and it happens that these [thoughts] arise from them, they are our constant companions and of the same age, and they easily persuade us to do what they want; then, because they are pleasant,
A they remain with us for a long time. But those who have approached the thoughts and philosophy of the soul later in life require much diligence, so that in a short time and through continuous association, they might be moved toward the good—a good that does not delight immediately, but enters only after one has long been filled with many other things. For with difficulty would we, by intense meditation, cut off the long-standing habit of those [previous thoughts], and be able to introduce true things in place of those merely-seeming ones, and good things in place of pleasant ones; hence, it is not to be wondered at if the best of thoughts do not everywhere overcome the wicked ones, and if the better ones possess no more [strength] than the worse ones among those who live according to reason. For I believe it should be considered sufficient for being able to become good, not simply to have learned this very thing—whereby one might be persuaded to become good—but that there is a necessity also to spend time in meditation and to remain occupied with thinking, and not merely to have learned right reason, but also to make use of it where it is necessary. Just as food, and weapons, and medicine, and clothing do not provide a benefit simply to those who are present with them and possess them, but rather the actual use of them provides [that benefit] to those who employ them. If, however, the base thoughts occupy the mind while they are present, and we have only tasted the good ones and then leapt away, what is it that is strange if the worse ones prevail, and the wicked [thoughts], being active, seize the territory of the soul, while the good ones are cast out completely, being defeated and idle? Therefore, just as it is nothing new for an architect not to build, or a doctor not to heal, or any craftsman whatsoever not to perform his own duty so long as he does not employ his art, neither is it to be wondered at if someone possesses right reason but, not having it active, reaps no fruit from his diligence. For one might use weapons against invaders as is fitting, killing them, but [only] by acting according to the art itself. We, however, use the best thoughts as counselors, B turning our mind to them, not so that, when it has learned what it ought, it might [merely] know it, but so that, once it knows, it might be persuaded and conceive a love for the things that are truly beautiful; and this requires diligent meditation, since, on the contrary, for the soul to be occupied with and dwell upon evil things is destructive, but their mere notions simply possess no evil in themselves. Wherefore, just as one is to flee from them here, so is one to pursue meditation there.
To wish for the good has no difficulty, nor is this matter believed to need study. But for receiving and preserving it, since labor is necessary, C there is need of study and a certain method, [to see] how we might willingly take up these struggles, since it is not easy to choose to labor. Now, that which anoints the athlete everywhere for struggles is the love of the things for which we struggle; for this makes labors, even if they are extremely painful, sweet. Yet nothing else kindles the love of honorable things except for the soul to attend to them and to perceive their elegance. This is the fire that was kindled in the soul of the Prophet from the meditation on God. D "And in my meditation," he says, "a fire shall be kindled" (Ps. XXXVIII, 4). Because he shows elsewhere concerning what meditation revolves and whose work it is, he says that the one is the blessed man, the
A one who, he says, "will meditate in the law of the Lord day and night" (Ps. I, 1, 2).
But if the meditation upon the written law has the power to kindle this fire, what must we suppose might be produced by the law of the Spirit, which alone has implanted the true love of God in men and has set ablaze a fire of desire that no one can extinguish, neither things present nor things to come! For this reason it even seems to me that it descended from heaven in tongues of fire, because it brought in love, which, like fire, consumes all things; since love even brought the very Lawgiver himself to the earth, and the very body of the Lawgiver is a pledge and fruit of his B love for humanity. Moreover, his whole law teems with love; he shows this to all to whom he can, he introduces it, he urges it, and if he should receive this back from us as a gift for what he has given, he considers it a sufficient reward for his merits toward us. For he does not command as if we were bound slaves, but as if we had already undergone many labors for his sake, and were bound by long custom and affection, he calls those who come to him right from the beginning into communion with his own things. "I indeed," he says, "have struggled for the kingdom, and have woven the crown with many labors, but you shall receive it without labor; I ask nothing more from you in return for these things, if you love me."
O unspeakable goodness! If he does not only love so vehemently, but also esteems being loved by us as of such great value, and does everything for the sake of this! C For why else did he build heaven and earth and the sun and the visible world, if not to teach us the beauty of the invisible One—such as it is, and how it was established by his nod alone—and all the providence he bestows upon these lower things, with no other end than to persuade those who have turned to him to love him? And altogether, just as the most fervent of lovers show their wisdom and goodness and skill, so that they may be able to inspire love for themselves, thus he makes so much account of this matter and treasures it so highly that, although he had done all things for its sake that the nature of God allowed, he did not rest. Instead, he gave himself to another nature, so that he might use it equally for this same purpose, in order that he who could not persuade by being God, might be able to by becoming man, and through both—that which he brought with him from his own home, and that which he assumed from without—attach the beloved to himself in friendship. D Thus the law of the Spirit is justly a law of friendship, and hence it trains us to recognize benefits. Therefore, one must apply one's mind to it with zeal; first of all, because there is no sweat here, nor toil, nor is there any need to spend money, nor could any ignominy or shame come of it, nor would we be any the worse for it in any way; rather, it is possible to practice one's crafts no less, and nothing forbids one from pursuing any occupation whatsoever. The general will lead his army, the farmer will till the earth, and the craftsman will attend to his work, and there will be no need for anyone to abandon any of the things they are accustomed to doing on account of these words. For it is not necessary to occupy the furthest regions, nor to partake of any unusual food, nor
A to break one's health, nor to dare any other rash act; but one may remain at home, losing nothing of one’s own resources, and yet have daily commerce with these thoughts. What, then, forbids such good things from occurring, for which it would be reasonable to endure labors, if the situation required it? For if, being human and endowed with the power of reasoning, we must necessarily think of something, how can we not rightly think of the best things? And if trifling and base things, and those from which no benefit has ever been thought to accrue to those who think on them—whether fortune, or skill, or substance, or anything whatever of those things in life—have never been considered worse for anyone, we shall least of all blame such things for being occupied with good thoughts, and will pursue the good over malice. Indeed, in this way they fight against no one to their own profit, and there is a certain sweetness present in them—which one might not even call leisure, or rather, one might call it joy itself. For if we take delight in things that are pleasing, nothing could be better than the thoughts which embrace Christ and His love for mankind—since not even of the very things in which He Himself is the final goal of goodness, or of anything strictly sweet and friendly, even if you search for it with much labor, will you find anything that is more fitting for us than these. For Christ is more kin to us than those born according to blood, and not simply to our parents, but now even to ourselves, as we have previously demonstrated. Hence, it happens that for the soul that reasons, there is nothing more proper than to be occupied with Him. And so, that which makes Him familiar and kin to us, and which is the best and most pleasant of all forms of companionship for baptized souls—I mean for those who after the washing are not overly squalid, like those Jews whom the wonderful Stephen called uncircumcised in heart and ears [Acts vii, 51]—is the dwelling upon Him. That, therefore, B no harm to human life could result from these thoughts, and that it is possible for those who think on them to be pleased and to rejoice, is clear from what has been said. And that there is also utility in them, and that they help and contain the most beautiful and most opportune of all things, has already been made clear, and will appear more evidently hereafter, when we discuss them more accurately. C For, in the first place, that the soul is occupied with good thoughts brings about a cessation and rest from evil thoughts. Consequent to this is bearing the ray or light of the mysteries pure from vice, which brings us a heap of all good things without labor. Next, it is necessary that these very thoughts perform their duty with medicines drawn from themselves, and affect the heart in the best possible way, just as from depraved thoughts evil affections are born; for it stands to reason that virtue likewise arises from good ones. For, clearly, in every matter—whether we take up this will or that, or say this or that, or act, or suffer, or choose whatever it may be—thought and reason are our guides in all things, and in this way the teachers of virtue
A generate in their disciples fitting thoughts at the opportune time; and, conversely, evil demons stir up foul images within, so that by this path, the former prompt us to do what is most noble, while the latter incite us to do what is most base.
It is, therefore, the task of every laudable meditation to see how actions proceed from virtue; but to meditate upon Christ, and to traverse in our thoughts the things He lovingly wrought for my salvation, clearly holds the life sought by us, and through all things renders those who do so blessed. And that we may know this clearly, let us consider those holy things for which Christ Himself pronounced their practitioners blessed; for do not all of them proceed from these thoughts? Whom, then, does He who alone is truly blessed deem blessed? The poor in spirit, the mourners, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and those who endure persecutions and every reproach for the sake of righteousness and their ready zeal for Christ B. These are they who have apprehended the blessed life. If, therefore, from these thoughts we find this choir beautifully formed, and the crowns woven from them, it would be plain to all that the labor and meditation spent upon such reasonings is a secure path, a bridge, a ladder, or whatever one might call it, toward the blessed life.
For instance, poverty in spirit and "not to think," as Paul says, "more highly than one ought to think, but to think so as to have sound judgment," whose could it be if not theirs who know the poverty of Jesus? He who, being Lord, shared in both nature and ways of life with His servants; and being God, became flesh; and being rich, chose poverty and bore ignominy, though He is the King of glory; and was led about in bonds, He who loosened the bonds of our race; and accepted the indictment of lawbreakers, C He who had come to fulfill the law; and endured judges who were gratifying a raging and murderous mob, "to whom the Father has given all judgment." What thoughts would not these things bring down? Furthermore, when pride is stirred up by good works, thinking that they appear to excel, he who has meditated upon the things of Christ will know that not only has he performed nothing great with virtue, but he was unable to contribute anything even to unshackle his own neck from the yoke of slavery, nor, indeed, was he able to keep his liberty secure and untouched after it had been restored. For He bought us with His own blood, and thus gave us this liberty, acquired at so great a price. But which of those who have been D liberated has remained in what he received, and kept these spiritual riches safe from robbers until the end, and not rather counted this great holiness as his own, committing light sins against grace? In what, then, is it permitted for us, having a bad conscience, to boast, we for whom our own inherent virtue is in itself useful for nothing? For if there is in it any true good, God has placed it there without our labor, and, indeed, has [not—so much as] imparted the wealth placed within from without, like an inanimate treasure.
A If it falls to our lot to guard it safely, such is our worthlessness. For after the new creation, and the burial in water, and the table filled with fire, even the most philosophic of men are found so weak regarding virtue that they have frequent need of the sacred table, and of the cleansing blood, and of the hand from above, lest they be carried off into the uttermost wickedness. And clear witnesses of this are those who have undertaken every labor for the sake of the good and for virtue, but who afterward have dared to commit every unspeakable act; those who betook themselves to the mountains and fled from every tumult and the common life as if from a plague, so that they might be devoted to God alone, and had accomplished all the most beautiful things, as far as it is possible for men to do, so that they could even be mightiest with God—because they relaxed a little of their hope in Him and did not commit all things to Him sincerely, they immediately dared the most shameful things of all and left nothing of wickedness undone. For the sake of what, then, shall it be possible to be proud? For the things accomplished? But there is nothing great in them. For the great things within us? But they are not our own. Because we have kept what we received? Nay, but we have betrayed it. Because we bear the seal of Christ? But this very thing is a sign that we do not bear it; B for the proud have nothing in common with Him, who is "meek and humble in heart." And it happens, by reason of such thoughts, that pride itself collapses into itself and the disease vanishes from both sides. For whether we think what we ought, we do not think ourselves great; or whether we think ourselves great, considering by this very fact that Christ is far removed from us and that we are of no value—understanding this—we shall think nothing great of ourselves as being abject.
Moreover, it follows that those who meditate upon the acts of Christ should mourn and weep, if one considers what things were done in a new and unheard-of way for our salvation, and what our sloth is, and what a sleep holds us! For whether the loss of most precious things saddens us, and the memory of those goods which we have lost causes tears, here we learn how great this wealth was, which we held in our hands and could have kept, but then threw away; or whether the conscience of much iniquity toward so zealous a benefactor bites and macerates the soul, hence it can be most manifest how illustrious has been the meekness and humanity He has used toward us, and conversely, how slothful we have been toward Him. D For first He descended from heaven in order to seek us, and in order that He might be able to address us with a kindred voice and look upon us with eyes, He did this: so that whether we love one who is akin by nature, or one who is the best, He might be both; and with these two things, which everywhere conciliate love, meeting together in Himself, He might be able to do the most to entice our love. Then, increasing the friendship, He added this also. For since each one loves himself, and at the same time loves one who shares his nature, but since because a person is closer to himself than to any other man, he loves himself more than he loves the one who shares his nature; in order, therefore, that in this way also He might obtain the better place—
A that He might truly be loved by all as he is loved by ourselves—He did not satisfy Himself with being of the same nature as we and assuming that same nature, but He even communicates to us His own body, and blood, and spirit. And so, that which the proverb says of friends, using hyperbole, becomes in truth for everyone who adheres to Him: He becomes, as it were, another self.
But if He has sought us out so greatly, and has left no duty of friendship unfulfilled, but has shown Himself to be a benefactor and a brother, and has existed for us in the place of our very selves—and this not by mere will or by a nod alone, by which He made this heaven, but by sweats and labors, which in no way befitted Him, and by anguish and contempt and blows, and at the last by death—while we not only are forgetful of the grace shown toward us by One who is in so many ways good to us, nor do we seek the means of rewarding Him, but we are so dull that we cling to those things which He hates, and we lay hold of those things from which He leads us away, and we flee from those things toward which He exhorts us—we behave so wickedly that what lamentations, what tears do we not deserve? We count other things, to some number and degree, as important, yet we look past the Savior and His benefits, as if they pertained to others and that ineffable providence had not been undertaken for our sake. B And with regard to our acquaintances and those who are devoted to us, we deem it part of our duty that necessary things should not be wanting to them for their use. Furthermore, in words, in works, and in all the arts required in life—whether one must plow, or go to war, or do some task by oneself—we provide for fairness everywhere, we gladly seize the opportunity offered, and generally these names—the customary, the equitable, the just, and others like them—are everywhere and frequently on our lips; yet solitary concerning those things which are truly ours, how we might safeguard them as is fitting, and through which we might render to ourselves what is just, we are touched by no solicitude whatsoever, in a certain way deeming ourselves more unworthy than all others.
If for no other reason, we should at least turn our attention to the novelty of those events which shook and transformed all things, in which the foundations of the earth saw the things that were above the heaven, and the earth ascended above that very heaven. The common tyrant of the world was bound; those who were bound tread upon the head of the tyrant. God was seen bearing a body, and this body yielding to blows, C and shedding blood, which He poured forth upon the cross. Furthermore, the dead body of a man shook only the earth and raised the dead. Their task was nothing else than to recognize the Lord, to rise from the earth, and to look toward heaven; yet those who, after these things have been done, still sleep and, like statues against thunderclaps, are affected by nothing—than whom could any be more miserable?
How, then, is it not just to consider the whole span of our life a time for mourning? For what do we weep, I beseech you? For sickness? But does not that which is most excellent within us fall ill? For poverty? Yet we ourselves are afflicted far worse by this, by how much more necessary and better is the wealth here; and as for poverty—
it must necessarily cease with the present life; but death cannot remove this calamity; nay, rather, it is inevitable that it becomes far more shameful for us in the future. But this is a pitiable madness. What then? Does not an evil demon goad our mind, pouring into it such a great force of folly? For if to walk upon swords, to cast oneself down over precipices, to ignore one’s friends, and to prostrate oneself before the most malevolent—if these are acts of a madman, do we not flee from the one who loves us? Do we not claim the enemy as our own? Do we not run toward Gehenna while charting everything that pushes us toward it? A Wherefore, it is appropriate for us, burdened and oppressed by the consciousness of every sin, to weep and mourn. And would that the consciousness of these things were granted to us, so that we might deem things to be what they really are; and let us not be unhappy in this too, where we dwell in ignorance of evils, if we might know well-being, wealth, and temperance—which, having been prepared for us by Christ, it is possible for us to obtain without labor, bringing to it nothing but our own will. For it would truly sting the heart, when it is possible to be happy, to choose misery, and when we are able to live in the light, to endure sitting in darkness. B And these things can draw tears not only from the sluggish, but from the most earnest as well, and these especially, having a greater perception of the loss. For both these things and worse than these they judge themselves to be worthy of—yea, they honor themselves with the ultimate penalties—when they contemplate God stripped and slaughtered upon the Cross, He to whom all things are in subjection, and Who requires from us in return a recompense for this: that He, being God, Himself took on the nature of man in order that we, out of men, might become gods, and might exchange earth for heaven, slavery for the kingdom, and the present dishonor for the true glory—for which things the Artificer of the heavens clothed Himself in earth, C and, being by nature Lord, appeared in the form of a servant, and the King of glory endured the cross, having despised the shame.
Regarding gentleness and mastering anger, and not being harsh toward those who have injured us, there being many things through which the Savior brought true philosophy into the world, He set forth the most and greatest examples of all, both by what He said, what He did, and what He endured in His suffering. For immediately He endured the spilling of His blood and flesh for the sake of those who had injured Him, and He came to redeem those whom He could have accused of the most atrocious crimes, and by whom He had been treated injuriously. D Afterward, through wonders by which He was restoring men to the integrity of their nature, though envious men barked against Him, He did not cease to do good; but when, because He was casting demons out of bodies, He heard Himself called Beelzebub and prince of demons—the most vilifying of all accusations—He persisted in casting them out, and He was so far from casting out of the choir one of His disciples who had become alienated from Him, that He even lived with him as it is fitting for friends to live, and shared salt with the murderer, and the most secret mysteries with the traitor, and His own blood; and finally He offered Himself to be embraced and kissed, and of all strange things, this was dared. For those things regarding which He had done well, He...
had received from them death; they themselves brandished the sword, those to whom He had done good, and the friend of the murder led the way for the murderers; the kiss was the signal for the murder. And while He was suffering these things, He was so mild and loving to mankind, that when one of those dogs had been struck by one of the disciples, He did not disregard the wound, but immediately healed it by touching the limb; and thus, having manifested a sign—both of His supernatural power and of His uttermost gentleness—though they feared not the former nor reverenced the latter, He did not destroy them, nor did He rain fire upon the wicked, nor strike them with lightning, A though they were worthy of these and, if anything, worse.
But the choir of angels could not look upon Him without trembling; yet He followed those who were dragging Him along and gave His hands to be bound—hands by which the bonds of disease were slackened and the tyranny of demons was dissolved. And the servant—the most ruined man—who had struck Him on the cheek, He did not punish, B though He was able, but very meekly and with love for mankind He deemed him worthy of a response and corrected his disposition to the extent that it lay with Him. Then, when the wicked judges had sentenced Him to death, He bore the verdict in silence, and having received the punishment, and being now nailed to the wood, He did not dismiss the love He felt toward His murderers; so much so that He begged the Father of the Only-begotten not to exact any penalty from them for the crime committed against Him. He did not merely ask for pardon for them, C but even defended them, in a voice that easily judged a heart full of flaming charity and compassion. For He says, "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do" (Luke xxiii, 34). And like a father loving his children uniquely, and pitying the children for the imprudence of their age, He mitigated the chastiser for them, and at that moment He expired with these words.
But after He rose again, and it was necessary to receive the sharers of the feast—the friends in whom the good will remained—forgetful of the injury by which they had deserted Him in the midst of dangers in a shameful flight, He called the disciples together and, having signaled the place where it was necessary for them to come to Him, when He arrived and appeared, He did not reproach them for their flight, D nor did He appear in any way to have remembered such a thing. And whereas they had all firmly asserted that they would share in His death and in the most extreme trials, yet they had not even endured the sight—and this not even when the dangers were present, but when they were still future—He imparted to them instead peace and the Holy Spirit and suchlike gifts, and then entrusted the care of the whole inhabited world to them, establishing them as rulers over all the earth.
And these things He did for the whole choir in common. But toward the leader himself, who had betrayed Him, having so often experienced His love and singular affection, what did He manifest? For not only did He not bring his denial into the midst, nor did He remind him of the covenants in which he had sworn to Him that he would not partake in death with the Teacher—of which he was immediately a transgressor, not sparing even a short interval of time—but He even sent the messengers of the resurrection to him before the others
A of the others, and honored him with this. But having come, He conversed in a friendly manner and inquired whether his own love was greater in him than that of the other disciples. And when Peter said that he loved Him, He again asked the same thing, and having heard the "I love you" again, He asked once more if he loved Him. And it does not seem to me that He would have ceased asking many times, had not Peter become grieved and refused to answer, seeing that He who knew all things would require many words in order to know if he loved Him. And yet these things were done neither by one ignorant of a friend, nor by one pretending to be ignorant; for the one would be to err, and the other to deceive, neither of which is consistent with pure truth. But He wished thus to show that He had utterly forgotten the injury regarding the former broken promises—for He would not have asked about them again: this was to kindle the love in Peter, which was already almost extinguished. For to inquire about such things and to provoke answers to such things is of more value for friendship than all else; and the memory and discussion of things pertaining to love can not only increase friendship, but can also beget it where it does not yet exist. And let these things be of this kind.
B The Savior, therefore, appeared devoid of anger in His works in this manner: in teaching and in giving laws, what is milder or gentler? Truly, He says that He would not accept even prayers and sacrifices if we sacrifice or pray while being in a state of anger; and that the remission of sins, that gift common to all (which He brought down from heaven), would never be given to those who are angry with one another, even if we move every stone and pour out rivers of sweat and tears, and even if we C cast this very body into sword and fire. So much did He value meekness; and it is fitting that those who meditate on His life should bear such a mild disposition toward those by whom they are offended. Which, also D indicating, He says: "If you knew my meekness, your heart also would become meek. Learn from me," He says, "for I am meek and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls."
Furthermore, the meekness regarding Christ will become a subject for meditation in this way. For he who consumes his life in such thoughts cannot but be kindled with desire and love for the holy table: but it is not permitted for one who remembers injuries to approach this while being angry; rather, he will stand firm and keep his soul pure from hatred. For this blood, poured out from the beginning for reconciliation, would not justly tolerate those who are slaves to anger and rage; for even if it uttered a cry to the Father regarding the murderers, just as the blood of Abel poured out by Cain, yet it did not accuse the wicked before Him, nor, like that one, did it demand vengeance for the brother; but on the contrary, it absolved, and the slain One procured forgiveness for the slayers.
Moreover, those who are constant in these meditations excel in justice above all others; from which it appears that the Lord of the world has so honored
A justice, that he might dwell with servants, with the condemned, with the slain, and with the dead, so that he might render to all what is due. And certainly, no one could render to the Father the glory and obedience which had long been his due, nor could any render to the tyrant the shackles, the contempt, and the disgrace; but the Lord has, by judgment and justice, expelled the unlawful authority and the base intruder who had seized what was ours.
Moreover, mercy—that is, to share in the pain of those who grieve and to consider the hardships of others as one’s own—from where else could one obtain such thoughts than from these, in which we see that we ourselves, being in no way worthy of mercy, have attained mercy beyond all expectation, and from that captivity, that servitude, those shackles, and the fury of him who took us captive? B Indeed, he who afflicted us knew no end to it, and we always experienced him as more cruel and more savage. We, however, were everywhere in need of counsel, and there was no one to be found who could reach out a hand to help. It was permitted for him to do what he willed with us, for we were dragged about like purchased slaves, and for us there was no solace or remedy for our evils, neither from ourselves nor afforded from elsewhere; not from those above us, nor from our fellow humans, but it was difficult for them to provide such things to the whole human race equally. And what do I say of a remedy, when it was not even permitted to remember the physician or to entreat him!
Struggling in this misery, C not a legate, not a messenger, but the Lord himself—whom we were warring against, and in relation to whom we were lawless and insolent in seeking to break his commands—he himself had mercy; a mercy unheard of, inexpressible in words, and beyond everything that might have been expected. For he did not merely desire our deliverance from evils, nor did he consider our pain as someone else’s, but he took our sufferings upon himself and transferred them from us into himself, having seen fit to appear worthy of mercy, that he might make us blessed. D For indeed, "in the days of his flesh," as Paul said, he appeared to many to be pitiable, and he was indeed pitied as he died an unjust death. And, "They were beating their breasts," it says, "and lamenting him" as he was being led to death. Nor did only those who were living at that time and watching the passion do this, but even Isaiah, having foreseen that spectacle long before, could not refrain from tears, but as if lamenting for the dead, he uttered a voice full of pity: "We saw him," he says, "and he had no form or beauty, but his form was without honor, his form failing beyond the sons of men."
What could be equal to this sympathy, if one does not share in the suffering of the unfortunate merely by thoughts and will, but in the very reality itself, and does not even endure to be a mediator of these hardships, but takes the whole upon himself and dies our death? What would be more likely to draw one toward pity for those of the same nature? For if the fact that one has previously suffered any hardship makes one favorably disposed toward those who are currently suffering the same things as they appropriate these calamities—and as for the evils we have suffered, are we not fallen...
truly delivered from our own? From poverty, from slavery—not the most grievous kind—from the extreme madness? And from all these we have been delivered “through the bowels of the mercy of our God.” Therefore, let us also show mercy A if anyone is buffeted by any of these hardships, and let us repay to our fellow servants the mercy that our common Lord first rendered to us. The Savior, in warning us of this—namely, that we must clothe ourselves with gentleness toward our neighbor, keeping our eyes fixed on the divine benevolence as a model—says: “Be merciful, as your heavenly Father is merciful.”
But to cleanse the heart and to exercise the soul toward holiness—to what struggle, or diligence, or rather to whose labors or thoughts and meditation, would this be the task? Or rather, what one might not even call a task of meditation about Christ, but the meditation itself, if one considers the matter accurately. For, first of all, to abide in the best thoughts and to depart from evil thoughts—this itself is what it means for the heart to be pure. Since our life and birth are twofold—the one spiritual and the other carnal—and the spirit fights against the body in what it desires, and the body stands against the spirit, and it is impossible for them to enter into a compact and agree on the contrary things, it is clear to everyone that whichever of the desires secures the memory of the thoughts will drive out the other. Then, just as the memory of the carnal life and birth and the preoccupation of the mind with such things bring about the most base desire and the pollution arising thence, in the same way, by keeping the soul preoccupied with the constant memory of the generation from the laver, and the nourishment appropriate to that birth, and the rest of the things of the new life, it is likely to lead the desire from the earth up to heaven itself.
Since, however, Christ is “our peace, who hath made both one, and breaking down the middle wall of partition, the enmity in his flesh,”—by whom, for the sake of peace, all things were devised—what could be more excellent than peace for those whose zeal it is to ponder and ruminate C on His affairs? For they themselves will pursue peace, by the command of Paul, as nothing else, and they will lead others in this matter; and they will dissolve useless hatred and cease to wage war in vain, knowing peace to be so precious that God Himself, being rich and the Lord of all, when He came to the earth to acquire it for men, found nothing worthy as a price, but paid out His own blood as the price. For since D He saw nothing among things already created and existing that was commensurate with the peace and reconciliation sought, He created another new nature—His own blood—and by giving this, He was immediately a reconciler and prince of peace. Those, therefore, who adore that blood: what else could they assume they are doing, in pursuing something conjoined with virtue, than fulfilling the work of reconciliation and peace?
A But if one wishes to see how great a good universal justice—that is, virtue—is, and what manner of beauty accompanies it, one must look solely at the habits and life of the Savior, as he alone among men entirely displayed its purity, free from all opposites (for he committed no sin, nor did the prince of this world coming and looking around with envious eyes find anything in him for which he could accuse that soul, nor anything in which he could reprehend his beauty); it is certain that those who meditate upon his life will obtain love for Christ and for virtue, even if they neither do nor begin anything else. For in this way it will be abundantly possible to understand the beauty of virtue and of the Savior, and having understood it, to love it, since in every matter understanding or knowledge is accustomed to beget love; just as, indeed, the fruit of the tree—and that, too, a forbidden one—ruined Eve in this very way: "And the woman perceived," it says, "that the tree was good for food, and fair to the eyes, and delightful to look upon." B
Having thus obtained love for Christ and for virtue, it is fitting to endure persecutions for their sake, and when the situation demands it, not to refuse flight, and to hear all manner of insults, and to do so with joy, as though the greatest and most beautiful rewards were laid up for them in heaven. For the love of those competing for a prize in regard to the one who awards it is capable of this, and makes the competitor believe in him concerning rewards not yet seen, and even now to bear a firm hope for those things which are to come. Thus, thinking of and meditating upon the things of Christ makes men moderate and cognizant of human weakness, so that they mourn; it makes them gentle, just, philanthropic, and modest, and workers of peace and reconciliation for men; and it so encompasses them with Christ and virtue that they not only endure suffering for them, but even rejoice at being insulted and take pleasure in being persecuted. And, in sum, it is possible for us to partake of the greatest goods, from which it is possible to become blessed, through these thoughts, and thus to preserve one’s intentions in C the good, to make the soul beautiful at every moment, to guard the wealth received from the mysteries, and neither to rend nor to soil the royal garment. Therefore, just as it is uniquely proper to human nature to possess a mind and to make use of reason, so it must be considered a work of the intellect to contemplate the things of Christ. Especially because Jesus alone is the exemplar to whom men must look, whether they need to act upon something themselves or to lead others in their duties, he who, both for his own sake and for the sake of the life of the people, first, middle, and last, has demonstrated true justice to men. Then, too, he himself is the reward and the crown to be received by those who have struggled. D Therefore, one must look upon him and accurately observe his ways, and try to understand them as far as possible, so that we may know how one ought to labor. For the rewards measure the struggles for the athletes, and by looking
* Gen. III, 6.
A at those things, they bring in as much endurance as they have known those things to possess beauty. But beyond all these things, who does not know for what reasons He Himself alone acquired us, having purchased us with His blood, since there is no other to whom we ought to be enslaved, and for whose sake we ought to use ourselves, both bodies and souls, and love, and memory, and the activity of the mind? For this reason also Paul says, "You are not your own; for you were bought with a price." 70
For indeed, on account of the new man, the nature of man was constituted from the beginning, and both its mind and its appetite were prepared for Him; and we received reasoning so that we might know Christ, and appetite so that we might run toward Him, and we possess memory so that we might bear Him, since even when we were being fashioned, He was our archetype. For the old Adam was not the example of the new, but the new was the example of the old. For even if the new is said to have been born according to the likeness of the old, yet because of the corruption B which the former initiated but the latter inherited—so that He might remove the weakness of nature with the medicine drawn from Himself, and as Paul says, that "what is mortal may be swallowed up by life" 71—insofar as nature itself is concerned, the old Adam would be an archetype to us who know the former; but to Him before whose eyes all things are before they come to pass, the former is seen as an example of the second. And according to property and image, he was fashioned after him, but he did not remain, or rather he pressed toward Him, but did not attain Him. Whence also the former received the law, but the latter kept it; and the old man spurned obedience, but the new man rendered it "even unto death, even death of the cross," 72 as Paul says. And the former, transgressing the law, was seen to be imperfect in those things which a man ought to possess. For the law was not above nature, the transgressor of which it was right to punish; but the latter was perfect in all things, and, "I have kept," He says, "the commandments of My Father." 73 And the former brought in an imperfect life, needing a thousand aids; but the latter became the parent of the immortal life for men. And nature was indeed impelled toward immortality from the beginning, but it reached it later in the body of the Savior, which, when He had raised it from the dead into the life that never ceases, He became the leader of immortality for our race. And that I may say everything in brief, the Savior was the first and only one to show the true and perfect man, for the sake of conduct and life and all other things. C
If, then, this is truly the goal of man, toward which looking as the final end, God fashioned him—I mean the incorrupt life, when the body is clean of corruption and the mind is freed from all sin—then here is where the perfection of his state would consist, when the Artificer Himself has performed all that He judged ought to be, since the beauty of a statue is also brought to completion by the final hand of the craftsman. If, therefore, the former lacked much of being perfect, while the latter was perfect in all things and imparted of His own perfection to men, and adapted the whole human race to Himself, D and...
how, then, are the later things not the patterns of the former, and how must we not consider the latter as the archetype, and the former as having been taken from it? For it is among the most absurd things to think that those which are entirely perfect hasten toward the imperfect, and that the worse things are set before the better as patterns, and that the blind are to be considered as guides to those who see. For it is not because those were earlier in time that one should rightly admire them, but rather it is proper to believe that these are the principles of the imperfect because they are perfect, while reflecting that many things were prepared beforehand for the sake of man's need, and that man, the rule of all these things, arrived last of all upon the earth.
Be it so. For all these reasons, man brings himself to Christ also by nature, and by will, and by his thoughts—not because of His divinity alone, which is the end of all things, but also on account of His other nature. And this (Christ) is the lodging-place of human yearnings, this is the delight of thoughts, and whatever one might love or think of outside of Him is a manifest aberration from duty and a turning away from the primary principles of nature. B And in order that we may be able to meditate upon Him always, and persevere in this study, let us invoke Him as the subject of our thoughts at all hours. Moreover, there is absolutely no need for preparation for prayers, nor is He to be invoked in certain places or with loud cries; for there is no place where He is not present, nor is there any way in which He is not with us, He who to those who seek Him is closer even than the heart itself.
It is also a natural consequence to believe constantly that what we pray for will happen to us, and not to doubt because we are wicked, but to trust because it is Christ who is invoked over the ungrateful and the evil. For He is so far from wishing to neglect the servants who pray to Him, though He has been offended by them, that even before they called Him or took any account of Him, He descended to earth and called them first. "For I have come," He says, "to call sinners." C But if He sought them in such a way, even when they were unwilling, what kind of person will He be when invoked? And if He loved those who hated Him, how will He reject those who love Him? Paul also signifies this, saying: "For if when we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son, much more, being reconciled, shall we be saved in His life."
Let us also consider the form of the supplication. For we do not ask to obtain those things which it is customary for friends to ask for and receive, but those things which it is permitted to guilty servants—and most of all to these—to request. For we do not call upon the Master that He may crown us, nor that He may deem us worthy of any other such grace, but that He may have mercy. D And to ask the philanthropist for mercy, and forgiveness, and the remission of debt, and such things, and for those who have asked not to depart with empty hands—if it is not right for the guilty to ask for these things, who then is it fitting for, if those who are healthy have no need of a physician? For if as a general rule it is considered that men should utter a voice in order to call forth mercy from God, it is the voice of those who have sinned, of those who are truly in need of mercy. Let us invoke God, then, with both tongue and mind and
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inus: "For there is no other name," he says, "under heaven given among men by which we must be saved." B
To all these things, furthermore, the bread that truly strengthens the heart of man will suffice and will provide the vigor for zeal and will take away the sluggishness springing up from the soul; for it is he who brought life to us from heaven, who must be sought as food in every way, and by making this supper a constant work, one must flee from hunger, and not, because we are little suited for such a great mystery, abstain from this table longer than is fitting, making the whole soul more weak and worse in all things, but by approaching the priests to confess sins, one must drink the blood in which there is the power of purification. Yet we shall certainly not be rendered liable for such great crimes as to be excluded from the sacred table, if we are most frequent in these thoughts. For just as it is for the wicked, when they have sinned a sin unto death, still to dare to approach the holy things, so for those who do not labor under such a grave disease, it is not advantageous to flee this bread. For those who are still fighting in their mind with the coals, it is fitting to beware of the fire and not to receive it as a companion before reconciliation: for these, whose minds are well ordered, yet who are infirm in other ways, there is need of the strengthening medicine, and one must go to the master of health, "who took our infirmities and bore our diseases," and not by using the disease as a pretext (for which one ought to pray to be repelled) flee the one who is to heal. For this blood imposes doors upon our senses and permits nothing noxious to pass through. C Nay, more, by sealing the doors, it repels the exterminator, and by making the heart into which it has been poured a temple of God—better than the walls of Solomon—that typical blood does not permit a wicked idol to be set up therein ("the abomination of desolation," he says, "in the holy place"), but by strengthening the mind with the principal spirit, just as David prayed, it subjects the wisdom of the flesh to it, and man enjoys the deepest tranquility.
And why do I discourse at greater length about the mystery, when it has been said at greater length before what it brings to those who have been made partakers of these goods? But if we live thus with Christ—through the initiation, or sacraments, prayers, meditation, and thoughts—we shall exercise the soul toward every virtue, we shall guard the deposit, as Paul commands, and we shall preserve the grace bestowed upon us from the mysteries. D For just as it is he himself who initiates and he himself who provides the mysteries, in the same way, the one who guards in us what he gives, and who makes us remain in what we have received, is the same one alone: "For without me," he says, "you can do nothing."
ON THE LIFE IN CHRIST BOOK SEVEN. What kind of person the initiate becomes who has guarded by his own zeal the grace from the sacraments.
A Since it has been stated who the initiate becomes and what path he has followed to preserve what he received from the sacraments, it is now consistent to examine what kind of person he becomes who has preserved them, and what manner of conduct he would manifest, having added his own efforts to those belong to God. For these things indeed constitute life, which in our previous discourses were treated as separate subjects: here, the grace from the sacraments, and there, the diligence of those who have received it toward preserving the gift. But now that the combination has been established, it remains to consider the whole, to show what the union of both is, and how entirely human virtue can be united with grace. This may be done if we examine the person who consists of both, just as, I suppose, one who wished to show the nature and utility of good health would bring to the fore one who enjoys it and present him as a manifest witness. By placing before our eyes one who has lived in this way, let us learn to perceive his fitness and bloom; we shall look at this from every side. We shall consider nothing of those things that adorn him from elsewhere, not even if he shines with wonders and abounds B with grace, but only him himself, and his particular beauty—I mean the virtue of the soul. For from those things one would judge the zealous person, and this alone would be the proof of virtue; but to know his habits is to know the man himself. For what need is there, when it is possible to know now, to guess and to look for signs, when it is granted to grasp the things themselves? Yet even that would not be a sufficient sign of virtue. For these things do not belong to all zealous persons, nor are those who possess them workers of virtue. For many of those who have been powerful before God have shown nothing of the kind; and, on the other hand, it has been necessary for some of the wicked now and then to be able to do such things, and nothing was impossible for those calling upon Christ, not because they excelled in conduct, but so that the one who was invoked might be made manifest. And for this reason, it is for the sake of virtue that there are sacraments and all labor; but for the sake of that power, no one among those who know that deeds are necessary has ever produced anything. And what am I saying? They had no desire for any of the present things.
A And it is not even permitted to rejoice in those things. "Do not rejoice," He says, "in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in the heavens." Therefore, for anyone to seek that which neither produces virtue nor can even manifest it when present, is a curious occupation. But even if someone enjoys certain visions and attains revelations and knows all the mysteries, we will not judge and admire him on account of these things. For although these sometimes accompany those who live in Christ, they do not constitute nor produce life, so that for one who looks only to these, there is no further gain toward virtue. And the blessed Paul shows this, writing to the Corinthians: "If I know," he says, "all mysteries and have all knowledge, but do not have love, I am nothing, and have become as sounding brass or a clanging cymbal." B Therefore, passing over the rest, let us look at the will of the soul itself, in which consists the goodness and malice, the health and sickness of a person, and in general life or death; and the life that is good and which looks only toward God is the blessed life.
For this is the work of both mysteries and human study: that the mind should be directed only toward that which is truly good. For of all God's care for the human race, that alone is the end to be seen, and toward this tends every promise of good things and every threat of evils. For the sake of this, God built this world for us, and set laws, and heaped upon us ten thousand good things, yet deterred us with many grievous things, that He might turn us toward Himself and persuade us to will and to love Him alone. C This is clear from the fact that this alone He requires of us in return for the benefits He has bestowed—that we will the good and maintain a virtuous mind. All the commandments testify to this; all exhortations, and every discourse at all beneficial to men, tend toward this. For in condemning greed, in repressing carnal desires, in bridling anger, and in casting out the memory of evils, He demands nothing other than goodness of will and modesty. And again, poverty in spirit, mourning, mercy, meekness, and every other such thing—whose followers Christ called blessed—are manifestly works of the will. But to assent to the correct dogmas and to believe the truth about God belongs to those of good disposition; and in general, God says that the whole law was set for the sake of love, and love is a virtue of the will. D Since, therefore, after all discipline and providence, God demands from us the fruits of the will, it is evident that He sows everything into it and deposits into it all power and preparation for the good. Therefore, even for this He gave baptism and initiated us into the other mysteries, that He might make the will good in us, and all the power of the mysteries and the new life emerging from them resides in this. But in general, what power do the rites confer upon us? They prepare us for the future life; "for they are powers of the world to come," as Paul says. But what is
it that we are being prepared for? To keep the commandments of Him who is able A to crown and to punish in the future; for this causes God Himself to dwell within us. "For he who loves Me," He says, "will keep My commandments, and My Father will love him, and We will come to him and make Our home with him." Now, the keeping of the laws pertains entirely to the will. For rewards are set before those who revere the lawgiver, just as punishments are set for those who despise Him, and this is voluntary. For B this is the property of the soul, which receives discipline in everything, and no one could ever find a crown or punishment for those things which are done entirely against one's will. Therefore, if we were to unfold the will of the one who lives according to God, we would find the blessed life shining within it; and once we have perceived its entire power, we shall contemplate it in its own abundance, just as the strength of the body is contemplated in its prime. The abundance C of the will is pleasure and grief: the former when it accepts whatever occurs, the latter when it turns away from it. Whence it is evident in these things what a man is, and these show the character of each person and distinguish the wicked from the good. And thus the life of men becomes twofold: that of the wicked, who rejoice in shameful and vain things, and that of the good, who rejoice in good things; and again, that of those who grieve over things that are only seemingly grievous, and of those who are saddened by things that are truly evil. And D not only perversity and goodness, but even the sweetness and bitterness of life, and misfortune and prosperity, are rightly judged from these. For those, therefore, for whom the discourse is about the blessed life, how could the contemplation of these things not be necessary, from which it is given to learn both the simple form of life and happiness? But since grief is prior to pleasure, in as much as the latter is the fruit of the former—"for they shall be comforted," He says, "who mourn"—it is reasonable to begin the discourse with this. Indeed, to grieve for those things for which it is fitting to grieve is to flee from evil, and, likewise, to rejoice is the course that leads toward the good, and the former precedes the latter in time; "for decline," He says, "from evil and do good." Now, things have indeed been said in previous discourses
Concerning grief according to God,
whose subject matter was those things over which it is possible to mourn, but they looked to other things, and therefore they could not provide for everything that pertains to the passion. Now, however, it must be seen, with God as our guide, what it is that can grieve one who is zealous, and in what manner, and, furthermore, in what the difference between the praised grief and the perverse grief consists.That it is manifest to all, indeed, that one who lives in God must grieve for the things for which he ought, and as he ought, is clear to all; but what are the things that are necessary, and what is the proper manner, and that such things are not manifest to all, our inquiry, in as much as it is possible, would not be in vain. For grief depends upon hatred, and hatred depends upon the malice of the reason. For we turn away from what we deem to be evil, and we are afflicted by the presence of those things which someone has in hatred and at which he is vexed; whence he who lives rightly and has taken hold of true philosophy knows first what is truly evil, and he knows, moreover, what he ought to hate, and is afflicted by those things by which it is necessary to be troubled. Because of this
A let us seek what is truly evil for man. Since there are many and various things that receive this name, and some are burdensome to all men in common, while others are so to only some, there is nothing like the malice of the soul and the corruption of the mind. For indeed the decay of the stars, the disorder of the seasons, the infertility of the earth, the shaking of the land, earthquakes and plagues, and again poverty and disease, and insults and imprisonment and scourging—each of these things might indeed be evil in itself, but it is not evil to man at all. For these things distress only external things, and extend no further than the body and possessions; but man is not the body, so that when it suffers he himself should suffer, B nor, by a much stronger argument, can he be harmed in his very humanity if those things which provide necessities for the body are taken away. Moreover, the judgments of the multitude do not fashion man to be worse if someone thinks worse of him. For if we were to assume this, it would be necessary that one and the same person both act evilly and be better, be both wicked and good, miserable and blessed, inasmuch as some judge these things and others those. But if man is truly his will and his reason—with which nothing else has anything in common—this alone can possess the virtue or the malice of man; and in these matters misfortune and good character will come to the same thing; for to be sick and to be healthy, to live in groans or in delights—this is something that inclines to both sides. Since, however, the error of reason is falsehood, and the wickedness of the will is depravity, it remains to seek by what manifest proof we shall recognize the deviation of either. C Among the many things that exist everywhere, the most accurate of all is the judgment of God; and that is good and true which is pleasing to Him, but that is base and false which does not receive His suffrage; and those things which He deems useful for man to learn are true, and those which He commands us to will are good, while those things which oppose these are full of error and wickedness. Regarding the divine oracles, some have been brought to earth through men, while of others God Himself was the messenger, having put on human nature, and as man, in the language of man, He revealed what was appropriate. What, then, is more useful than these commandments, or more true than these doctrines, of which God Himself was legislator and introductor, if indeed He alone is truth and He alone D is good? If, therefore, it is necessary to learn what, as a deviation of nature, saddens the true man, it is fitting to take the opposites of these. For that is truly evil which stands against that judgment, and since it is wicked, it is natural for it to be an object of hatred to those who have virtue at heart, to be abhorred when absent, and to be mourned when present. For the presence of evil will sadden those who are not bereft of mind, whether it concerns them or others for whom they themselves pray for the best: and they pray for all men, both that they may attain the divine mercy and because they desire to see the glory of God shining everywhere. And thus, for those who live in Christ, only sin is troublesome, first because it is a perversion, and they themselves, dying...
living as they do by God’s laws, are compelled to share in His will; second, because it opposes the laws of God, to whose will they are eager to join themselves; and third, because it is not fitting for those living according to right reason to be troubled in vain. Yet here, it is not in vain to be troubled, for they harvest the most profitable fruits of sorrow. For in other matters, if someone is pained, there will be no advantage; poverty and sickness and anything of that sort will not withdraw any the more from those who weep. But for the wickedness of the soul, sorrow is the medicine; since it cuts off what is to come, puts an end to what is present, and has the power to pay the penalties for what has been dared. A For this reason, it seems to me that it was implanted in our nature from the beginning, being useful to us for nothing else. For we do not commit sin gratuitously, but for a certain reward of pleasure, and we exchange the joy of that which is well-arranged in the soul (for we would not choose it for itself, being as it is the ruin of the soul and the burning of the mind), and knowing these things clearly, when we repent and are pained over the things in which we have sinned, we demonstrate that we are despising the pleasure that comes from there and are driving out passion with passion; by casting away what we had taken, we take back what we had cast away. And at the same time, this being troubled becomes for us the payment for the things we dared, for which, once purified, there will be no need of a second scourging; and this is why God, from the beginning, assigned pain and labor to the transgressor as punishment for those wronged by his laws, believing that this penalty would not be exacted if it were not directly the case that one is guilty and that there are accounts to settle. B And in this way, He Himself, having later become man, used this against sin and, when it was necessary to cast sin out of human nature, cast it out by suffering. And indeed, it is not in vain if one is troubled for anything belonging to the body; rather, it is a manifest loss, for this is to place something else ahead of God! The final stage of this wickedness is the madness of Judas, when he sold God and Savior for a few coins; but the beginning and the seed is to suffer this with regard to His memory, and to be driven out from communion with Him because of the love of something else. C For where this wickedness has grown, and forgetfulness of God has occupied the place of the soul, love towards Him wanes, inasmuch as the contrary of memory intrudes; and where love is extinguished, negligence and transgression of His commandments soon creep in. “Just as he who loves Me,” He says, “will keep my commandments,” but those who trample upon God’s laws and are daring in such things, to the point of betraying the word of faith if there is something to gain, do not shrink from any crime. “For some, having missed the mark in their conscience, have suffered shipwreck regarding the faith,” says the blessed Paul; “For faith,” he says, “is dead” for those who do not care about the corresponding works, hence if it is easily destroyed, it is nothing strange. D For there being three things which preserve our reverence toward God — the fear of the evils impending for the impious, the good hope of the godly, and the love of God and virtue — nothing effective remains in the souls of those who have decided to break the laws. But just as for those whose life is ordered by the laws of God, reverence toward Him is increased, so those who despise the Scriptures soon abandon it, and those who proceed according to this noble suffering...
have nothing in common; but when this is removed from the midst, and all the things that could have restrained wickedness are taken away, and the reasoning that brings in the good has been reduced to silence by being many times rebuked, it is in no way difficult for them to descend to the A uttermost extremes of evil.
For this reason, men of virtue guard their concern, and from the beginning take their stand against the root of evils, and keep their heart for God alone, setting aside their memory for Him as if it were some other sanctuary. For they know that, as it is not permitted to the many even to touch holy houses, and it is forbidden to use the vessels and veils set apart for such a purpose for anything else, so there is no sanctuary of holy things equal to a soul consecrated to God; whence it is necessary that it be, more than anything else, an inner sanctuary impenetrable to those who sell and buy, and free from the tables and money-changers and similar things. B For if the house of prayer must be in such a state, what must we think of the one who prays, for whose sake that place also ought to be free from clamor? Although to the one the name was not always strictly applicable, nor was it always a house of prayer, being occasionally empty of those who pray; but the law of Paul commands Christians to be at all times attached to the communion of God, praying incessantly. And we should also observe this: for while the Savior draws others away from sins by words, here He uses His tongue, and anger, and hand, and a whip, providing us with a realization of how much concern this matter deserves. For these actions were not so much intended to honor that temple, which He foresaw would be destroyed, as to demonstrate at what a price He holds each of the faithful, in whom He promised to dwell, [and that they should be] free from cares and anxieties; and at the same time to show how keen is the passion, and how much there is a need for a soul and spirit that is constant and for prudent reasoning, and above all for the very hand of the Savior, C without receiving which within, it is impossible to cast out the tumult. For this reason the law established that sacrilege be punished by death, and the veil was necessary for the Holy of Holies. Oza died for having offered his profane hand to the tottering ark, and Ozias received leprosy for gain from holy things; and many such things decree to the baptized soul that it should be a purely inviolable asylum for the true sanctuary of God. For this reason, to those who live in Christ, keeping the soul pure from concern is esteemed to be of great value; and even if anything should enter the mind of those things that seem useful, it does not distort their reasoning, just as for Peter, when he heard the Savior calling, there was no care for the things held in his hands. For they also are called by a certain perpetual calling through the grace inscribed upon the soul by the mysteries, which is, as Paul said, the Spirit of the Son of God crying in their hearts: D "Abba, Father." And in this way they despise all things at all times, so that they may be able to follow Christ at all times; because it is not right, he says, "that we should leave the word of God and serve tables," first because there is nothing for them before God, and then because all other things [are provided] by Him, the supreme dispenser of all good things.
For the promise is true that to those who seek first the kingdom of God, all other things shall follow. A Bringing those who cleave to Him out of all such anxiety, the Savior speaks at length about this law, so that they may not be deprived of the greater things, and because they labor in vain by fretting over things for which He is concerned before them. But if to be anxious about these things is harmful, where shall we place sadness, which is not only the turning of the soul away from the remembrance of God, but also its becoming entirely darkened and the intellect becoming blind, so that it easily descends from there into any kind of ruin? For when the mind suffers from dejection, B and is shaken and brought down by the giddiness arising from it, it behaves in the most wretched way toward all things, readily throwing away its own energy and dignity and whatever is innate to it—just as those who are captured by a profound sleep cast away what they hold in their hands—and, like a slave, easily yields to the passions over which it was right for it to have command. And thus, nothing prevents the soul from perishing, having received a thousand blows, since, as David said, there are many who fight against it from on high, while there is none who can bring help. For this reason Paul says, C "The sorrow of the world works death." Looking to these things, those who wish their soul to survive and live not only flee sadness, but also keep anxiety far away, averting the evil from afar. If it happens that many of those who are diligent, being charged with the care of cities and communities, must lay their hand to such business, they do not for all that indulge more in cares, nor is this a cause for them to depart from their accustomed way of life. For we are anxious when, regarding what we seek and how we might happen to obtain it, we view [the matter] while possessing a certain desire for it, and then it is D uncertain whether what we seek might come to pass for us. For this can indeed create anxiety and tension in the soul, when nothing is known clearly about the object of desire, or the end of the pursuit concerning it. For whether we know nothing about what we love, or we know that the things we love happen according to our wish, we have no difficulty or anxiety; or if, while seeking what we love, we clearly know that we shall not obtain it, no place remains for anxiety. For here there is no care or fear, where the limit of anxiety has been fixed, but, quite simply, sadness as if the evil were already present. Now, since neither of those things which generate anxiety creates trouble for the souls of those living in Christ, it is necessary that they be freed from the anxiety of evils. For they do not cling stubbornly to any of the things present, and if they do work at all for the necessity of the body, they know the end of their labor in every case in a certain way; for they pray that the end of their toils be what is pleasing to God, and they know very well that what is in their prayers is subject to being frustrated. For those who might be anxious are either the poor who, desiring luxury, seek for more means of living than they have, or the rich to whom nothing is greater than wealth, who tremble while it remains with them lest it secretly slip away, and who grieve when it is spent, even if it has been spent on what is most necessary for the body, and especially
because they love these things in such an irrational manner that they would prefer to keep them inside forever, receiving no benefit from them, rather than to spend the treasures on things that ought to be acquired. Furthermore, because they fear that their expenditure might be in vain, as they are least capable of feeling confident about the end of their labors, since they have not hung their hopes upon the hand of God—a standing and firm reality—but rely entirely upon themselves and their own reasonings in what they do; and in these things, as Solomon says, they are timid and uncertain. B But for those who hate all pleasures, who disdain all visible things, and who, as for all that they do for themselves or for others, use the lamp of God’s commandments as their guide and place all things second to the hope they have in Him—believing that what is useful will meet them—what necessity is there for anxiety? Why should they be anxious about things they know are already well ordered? For they do not seek an absolute end to follow their pursuits, but rather whatever might be useful, nor are they anxious while waiting, knowing full well that they will arrive at their prayers, and they embrace what meets them as the most beneficial thing of all, believing it to be the very thing they requested. Just as it is with travelers, once they have found a guide who shows them the right way, there can be no fear of going astray, nor do they have any care about an inn, in the same way, those who commit all their cares to Him who is able to do all things, and who adopt Him alone as the overseer of their life and sustenance, keep their own soul free from anxiety; so that by having regard only for the truly good, they may care for the things of the Lord, and may fear and suffer whatever they must according to the Lord’s judgment. For such people are established as useful not only to themselves, but also to others; and in this one might marvel at the goodness of God, in that if no one can avoid a disease while another takes the medicine, he, however, can be released from the need to render an account, while others suffer. C That this indeed saddens those who wish to live in Christ is manifest from what has been said; but how and by what reasonings this is brought about, it remains now to say. Not everyone grieves for the same reason concerning sin, but vanity brings some to tears, because, adjudging themselves worthy of the greatest gifts, they act contrary to their hope, and they must deplore the loss of their rewards; for many others, the fear of having to render an account underlies it; but for the best of all, love toward the Lawgiver makes the transgression of the laws miserable. D For just as among the righteous, those who have the best order—whom neither the fear of evils nor the hope of rewards, but love for God alone exhorts to practice virtue with sweat—are the most excellent, so among those who are vexed by their sins, those whose mourning has sharpened their love for God are the best of all. For the former generate the passion for themselves and come to grieve of their own accord, and they weep because they love themselves; but these latter—the One who moves them is God Himself. Whence, since the motion must necessarily accommodate itself to the mover, that grief is as much better than the other as the Mover is a greater intermediary, just as even with a projectile the best trajectory and that which is directed towards the target *[continues...]*
A is achieved by those most skilled in shooting from the hand. Since, however, it is necessary to know not only the things for which one must be grieved and how, but also to what extent (for it is possible both to grieve less than is fitting for one’s faults, and to indulge in sorrow more than is required), those who mourn along with these considerations will know the measure of their tears. For just as with a bodily wound, as long as the limb is still diseased, one might not be able to apply anything at all to the abraded flesh, or one might produce a swelling greater than nature and the rules allow; but when the nature returns to itself and is cleansed of the disease, it proceeds immediately toward symmetry, and then ceases, having offered no further excess beyond what was removed: in the same way, the same could be said of the infirmities of the soul. For of the sorrow, suffering, tears, and all such things occurring on account of sins—all of which seek this: to remove the sin and to restore what has been taken away from the goods of the soul—the sorrow that proceeds from divine love is the only one among the others that is healthy, the only one that proceeds with reason, and the only one that understands the measure of the others. For if they have stumbled, they have not turned to another, nor have they altered their direction, nor have they been ignorant of the goal and where it is necessary to rest, provided the love of God remained. For this is to walk rightly toward God: to walk with charity. This, says the Psalmist, is the way of the blameless, who, he says, "will seek Him with their whole heart," B thereby manifesting the ordered desire. For these are the ones who walk in the law of the Lord, those who live with charity—by which the whole law hangs—but in such a way that they immediately strip off all sin, which alone darkens the eye of the soul, and nothing hinders them, even amidst desires, from looking toward the straight Word and knowing clearly how much it is necessary to grieve. For since the goal of human virtue, as I said before, is to participate in the will of God, while malice is the opposite—and the former is for man to reach the target, while the latter is to sin—those who traffic in philosophy, neither living rightly and loving virtue for its own sake, nor, having fallen into sin, grieving over malice on its own account, but rather doing the former out of a desire for rewards and the latter out of fear of harm (whence, not hating the very substance of iniquity, so to speak, they do not flee it purely in the disposition of their will, even if they happen to have ceased from the act). For just as one who hates wicked men because of their character cannot rightly be called a misanthrope, so also to bear sin with difficulty, not because it fights against the laws of God, but because it brings harm to those who dare, is the mark of those who flee the harm, not those who turn away from the iniquity itself. C Such men are clearly those who would certainly not flee from malice if it were permitted to sin without danger. But those whom the love of God has raised to philosophy, and who honor the Law because they love the Lawgiver, after having offended God, they condemn themselves, they accuse the sin itself, and they weep—not because they have fallen from the prizes of virtue, but because they have not aligned themselves with the divine will. Hence, these, while repenting of their sins, still do not have a soul entirely pure of malice, and therefore [the measure] of their sorrow. D
A for not having obtained the rewards for virtue, but for not having been freed from sins, is sought among the healthy; but the latter, having cast out the entire disease, will be sufficient unto themselves. For since sin is twofold, they avoid both parts: for the penitents have rejected its force, yet no evil passion or disposition has remained, since the passion for the good and for God that is ingrained in their souls does not allow it.
And so much for sadness; but it is appropriate to rejoice B if the things we love are present now, or at least are hoped for. For we rejoice in hope, as Paul said, as though love and joy converge upon the same objects; and indeed we rejoice in ourselves insofar as we love, and in others for our own sake. There are some, moreover, who are pleasant because of themselves, whenever they are of good character and happen to have benevolent souls. Therefore, the virtuous man, knowing that only the good is lovable, rejoices in it for his own sake, and for that same [reason] also for the sake of others—in the latter case if their characters are similar, in the former if they provide assistance toward the good. And furthermore, apart from these things, the good man rejoices in the goods of others; and this is the end of his prayers and desires, if someone acts well. And this is the most noble manner C of pleasure, when one makes the pleasure of the soul common and does not desire only himself and his own advantages, nor pride himself only on what is his own, nor love gain, but considers himself honored when others win. For in this man transcends nature and becomes like God, who is the common good. But it is also manifest from another quarter that he loves the good for its own sake and not for his own utility, when, seeing it in others, he rejoices no less. The fruit of some is different—it belongs to good men to wish well to all and to rejoice in the contemplation of their goodness; and it is right to posit this as a sign of perfect goodness, just as the crop of a fertile tree reveals its vigor. For neither D can nature produce a tree capable of bearing similar fruit unless it is first perfect in itself, nor would any man be useful to others who did not first benefit himself. For he is more intimate with himself than with others, is familiar with himself, and makes use of himself before all others, and wishes and prays for goods for himself. What, therefore, prevents him from serving himself first, since on the one hand he rejoices in goods, and on the other hand nature first inclines a man toward himself and the thought of himself, just as with every creature? For he belongs entirely to himself, and to himself he is primarily a good; and for each one to be himself is the primary and most common desire for all.
Therefore, it is manifest that if he loves the good reputation of others and rejoices when they obtain it, he himself is not disinherited of such things nor in need; for he has not labored for others while neglecting himself and his own affairs of which he has need. For how could he desire to see those things in the hands of others, when he knows his own house to be empty? If
certain people who have a poor grasp of the good and of virtue, A while masking themselves with the bright face B of the best of men, apply themselves to virtue, and seek to lead others in things of which they themselves are utterly ignorant, desiring to attain a certain reputation and false glory, not for the sake of virtue and the good—for it is impossible for those who seek this according to right reason to be perfectly good—this is something for men who are free from all envy and malice, and who have shown sincere and perfect love toward their peers, which is to have attained to the ultimate philosophy. It is necessary, therefore, that those to whom this joy happens should be the best and wisest of all, and that this joy should happen to those who are the best and wisest of all. For it is consequent that those who participate in the good should show the nature of the good in their soul; and the nature of that good is to be poured out and to be shared. For just as all things desire it, so it is also naturally disposed C to embrace all things: for all things would not desire to obtain it, unless it offered itself to all; for how is it reasonable that so universal a desire should be in vain? Hence, the argument of goodness also requires that a good man should offer himself to all just as he does to himself, and that his soul should grieve, rejoice, and experience whatever it may be in regard to the affairs of others no less than in regard to his own. Moreover, the love of God suggests a great joy to him: for it is necessary that a friend should rejoice not only with the beloved, but also with those in whom he [the beloved] delights.
We have now come to the most perfect and pure pleasure. For since he who lives in God loves God above all things, and senses the joy consequently attached to this love, one must consider with greater diligence its nature and its connection to the D philosophers. For, in the first place, he does not make himself the cause of the joy which he has in Him, nor is God pleasant to him because He is good to him. For this is the mark not of one who truly loves God, but rather of one who loves himself, and who refers all actions to himself as if to an end. But what well-bred man would not love the supreme benefactor? Who that is just would assign a lesser portion of love to the greatest of virtues? Who that is wise would place anything else as the ultimate end? Since it is right that he himself should be prudent, just, and wise, it is necessary that he should love God, and rejoice in Him in the best way, and that the joy should then be continuous and stable, and furthermore that it should be a certain supernatural and wonderful thing. It must indeed be continuous, because he lives always with the things of the Beloved, whether those he incessantly encounters, or those he uses with his body, or those he contemplates, or those in which he consists, or those by which he lives, survives, and acts, and however he happens to be and to exist—he knows that all of these are the works of God, and they are all continuous to him; therefore, they all preserve the memory of Him for him, all of them keep his love [inextinguishable], all of them delight him; and he could neither abandon himself, nor cease to be conscious of himself, nor is it possible that this
A nor at any time possible. For we do not rejoice only when we are with those we love, but also in their works and in everything that has some commonality with them in any way; and especially in everything from themselves which has much grace and can greatly delight from within, and is firm as well. For neither would anyone who is rejoicing abandon such a joy while in its company, nor would the delightful thing cease to be delightful. For that person would neither reproach the affection nor blame himself, being mastered by such a pleasure, which one cannot call illicit, nor contrary to the nature of reason, but which rather preserves reason itself; and he possesses what is delightful, and there is nothing of change or instability to be feared or suspected in it. One might grasp the magnitude of the pleasure if he considers the delightful thing itself: for it is necessary that the joy should correspond in size to the greatness of the delightful thing. B Just as there is nothing that can be compared to that, so neither could there be anything similar for men to the joy that comes from Him, since the power of desire corresponds to what is desired. For the desirable thing is not so great, while the desiring faculty remains weak and as if insufficient for such vast riches of goodness; rather, this too is disposed toward that immensity and is prepared for it. For if it is determined to be commensurate with nature, yet we see that nothing among created things is perfectly adequate to it; all things are inferior to it and fall short, and of all the goods one might obtain—even if he possessed all of them—he examines and seeks what is not present, neglecting those which are always present, and he does not cease from desire, nor has he rejoiced sincerely, nor does he fully enjoy the magnitude of joy dwelling in his soul. Hence it is manifest that his desiring faculty is limited, C but is disposed toward an infinite good; the nature is indeed circumscribed, but the activity and the impulse are not, just as we know that the entire life of the soul, in an absolute sense, is endless, even though it belongs to a finite thing. The cause is that God has adapted both the life of the soul and its joy, and everything within us, to Himself; and the life is immortal so that we might live with Him in death, and it knows no limit, so that in Him alone we might be able to rejoice in the perfect pleasure. When, therefore, these two have come together—the infinite good, of which there is no limit, and the fulfillment of an infinite desire—how great is the matter of this pleasure! Yet one would not see such an excess merely in this; for he does not rejoice that he has obtained what he desired. For if he rejoiced only as much as he was able to obtain, he would lose as much of the pleasure as he lacked; but now he rejoices because of all the blessedness that is in God, D and whatever he recognizes as being with God, this generates pleasure for him; for he does not desire himself, but Him. For just as he does not order his life simply toward himself, so also he does not have his will active toward his own good, but toward Him; he rejoices in the divine goods, not insofar as he himself might enjoy them, but insofar as God is within them; and he deems himself blessed, not because of what he himself has received, but because of all that the One he desires possesses. And he leaves himself behind, and departs toward God with his whole will;
A he forgets his own poverty, and gapes toward those riches; he sees fortune as something foreign, but considers the latter as his own possession. He did not think himself miserable because of the former, but through the latter he knew himself to be rich and blessed. For the power of love knows how to make the things of the beloved the own property of those who love. But since the power of the will and of desire has been entirely consumed in the saints toward God, they consider Him alone to be the good that is their own; and neither body can delight them, nor soul, nor the goods of the soul, nor any other thing of those naturally in kinship and belonging to them, because nothing of these is lovable to them for its own sake; but as if they had altogether gone out from themselves, and had transferred their life and all their desire elsewhere, they were ignorant of themselves. And there is nothing incredible in this; for the love of men for money and bodies persuades them to despise them, and you may see those who love madly, when they are well, not noticing their health, since they see those closely connected to them faring worse in this regard, nor, if they are ill, paying attention to the infirmity, provided their bodies are faring better; and many, by defending their beloved, have gladly died, choosing rather to surrender their bodies than to see them being torn apart. But the love toward God is as much greater than the love of men as is the distance between the beloved ones. B What then remains, what we shall spend for His sake, or what greater thing shall we give to Him, if he who has been captivated does not also despise his soul itself? And he who truly despises the soul is not the one who kills the body, but the one who betrays it itself and its goods; and he betrays it—just as the wicked man, expending all of himself for the pleasures of the body, so the lover of God, bringing every energy and desire of the soul to God, and leaving nothing to the soul. For even if he makes account of how it fares well, he does not do so by seeking it and its goods, but by loving God and taking care of His laws, so that they may be saved; just as we, when making account of an instrument because of some work, or a circle because of a wagon, do not seek the circle, but the wagon. And indeed this can become manifest right here. For what is it that persuades us to value the soul and to love it intensely? Nothing, except the desire to exist. We wish to exist, that we may be well; for no one would endure to be miserable; and for this reason many have taken their own lives, and the Savior says: D "It would have been good for him if he had not been born." Since, however, to exist well is nothing else but to love God, it is quite manifest that by loving God, we love the soul itself. While many indeed are ignorant of whence it might come to be that they exist well—others love other things, and wandering from the mark of the course, often choose things by which they will become worse, and they neither honor the soul as they ought, nor despise it according to reason. But the pious, ordering themselves according to God, and as if seeing where they are to seek existence, and how they shall make use of themselves, set God as the only cause of love, and love Him alone for His own sake, and the soul for His sake, and they love existence and all other things, yet in loving the soul in this way, they do not truly love it itself, but Him for whom they love.
A If, however, we also love the soul as something proper to us, the Savior is more proper to us than the soul itself; and those who focus on this alone throughout their life know that the Savior is harmonized to all kinship for them, and for His sake both the soul and existence itself are dear and kindred. For a person is indeed anxious about himself, because he is in turmoil and cannot happen upon peace unless he happens upon God. Beyond these, however, as upright arbiters of things—who should be thought to be those living in Christ—one must not deprive God of the things that pertain to Him. B This is the case if, while the Good is perfect, we love with an imperfect love; yet we would love imperfectly if we loved anything else, dividing our affection; since the law also says: "With all your soul, He says, and with all your mind, you shall love God." Since, therefore, they offer all affection to Him and leave no part of love either to others or to themselves, they depart from their own mind and from all things. For love is what binds everything everywhere; and thus, having transferred themselves from every quarter to God alone, they live solely for Him, love solely Him, and rejoice solely in Him. For as regards those who are our own nearest kin, it is not the very fact that they are our own that makes us wish to be with them and rejoice, but that we also love them—if this were not the case, this kinship would have no power to unite us to them or make us rejoice for its own sake. For many of our own things grieve us, and there are even things for which we reproach ourselves; some people even openly hate themselves and desire to flee and to die. C There are even those who have dared to depart before their fate, forcing death with swords or a noose; from which it is evident that it is love which makes us wish to be with and rejoice in all those with whom we live and rejoice—in the soul, in our nearest kin, and in ourselves. Therefore, if one were to desire and love the good things of others no less than his own, it is necessary for him to agree in purpose and to rejoice in the blessings of others as he does in his own. Because of this, for one who loves God—while his nature has not been transformed or altered toward divine things so that these things might naturally occur to him, but his will and love have been transferred to God from his own affairs—there is nothing to prevent his joy in Him from being full, as if he had been transformed. For if he still bears human nature and does not naturally live in divine things as in his own, he nevertheless directs his entire will there, which is sovereign in deciding whether to rejoice in this way or that, and in holding within us this or that pleasure. D And thus, just as the one who loves himself rejoices when he counts the blessings present to him, so those who love God alone gather pleasure for themselves from His blessings, and they are enriched and pride themselves in His things, and they boast in His glory, and they celebrate Him as He is worshipped and marveled at. But those who live for themselves, even if they rejoice in true blessings, cannot reap an untainted joy; but just as they rejoice in the blessings that are present, so it is likely that they suffer from things that are absent or from evils that are present; but for those who have stored their life in God, where indeed there is pleasure and no sadness, although there are many things which of this
A His, do not vex anyone. For there is nothing unpleasant in the presence of God, in whom they live, nor is there any sense of things present to them, if there is anything that can cause sadness. For the definition of perfect love does not even permit them to seek their own—"for it does not seek," he says, "the things that are its own"—but they love that the Beloved should be blessed. And the passion is strange and supernatural—earth and dust exchanging the things of God for their own, and becoming something similar, just as if poor and wretched men, having rushed into a royal house, should suddenly cast off their companioning poverty and put on all the splendor B there. For which reason, I believe, they are also called violent, and that they seize the kingdom, because they do not wait for those who would give it, nor do they look toward those who would choose them, but they themselves seize the throne and place the diadem upon themselves by their own vote. For even if they do receive it, yet they do not believe themselves to be blessed in this, nor do they have pleasure therein, but in the fact that they have known the kingdom to be in the Beloved; and they rejoice, not because he shares his goods with them, but because he is in good things; so that if they had nothing in common with the kingdom, and the Beloved did not make them partakers of his blessedness, they would nonetheless be blessed, and reign, and be crowned, and all of them would enjoy that kingdom. Whence they would rightly be called plunderers and violent possessors of divine goods, thrusting themselves into the enjoyment of them. These are they who hate their souls, and lose them, and in their place receive the Lord of souls.
What, then, is greater or more stable than this joy? For as for those who place their joy in themselves, that they should lose what is pleasing is not unexpected; for in nothing among present things is there any stable good, whence they do not rejoice more in the things they enjoy than they lament over those for which they tremble. But for these, the treasure of goods is secure, and their pleasure is without sadness, and there is no fear for a firm and stable possession. They indeed even themselves rightly suspect their joy, lest it lead them into pride, since they look very much toward themselves, which can cut away the greatest part of joy; but to these people, nothing of the sort brings anxiety, since they do not trust in themselves, D but refer their power to God, and glory in him, and in general, do not gather only as much joy as they themselves are capable of, or as it is fitting for men to receive, but they gather a supernatural and divine pleasure. For if someone were to exchange one house for another, a more beautiful one for a meaner one, he would also exchange pleasure for pleasure, instead of that which he enjoyed, occupying the former house—this pleasure which it is likely one who enjoys the second feels. And likewise, if by some device he happened to obtain a more beautiful body, casting off the one present, he would exchange also the joy over it, and he would rejoice all the more, the better the body he enjoyed. Since, therefore, one not only casts off body and house, but casts off himself as well, and receives God, and He is substituted for him in the place of body, soul, family, friends, and all things, it is necessary that he should feel a joy surpassing all that of men, and should receive that which is attuned to the divine.
it is necessary that it surpass any human joy and take on that which is suited to divine beatitude and appropriate for such a transformation. A For this reason, they are also said to rejoice with the joy of Christ; for that at which He rejoices, this also does he make his own joy. For He rejoices in Himself, and since the things that are able to gladden are the same, it follows that the delight is the same; and this can be learned accurately not only by conjecture and reasoning, but from the Savior Himself speaking clearly. For after He had introduced the laws concerning love, exhorting the disciples to keep the affection toward Him unshaken to the end, He says, "These things I have spoken to you, that My joy might remain in you, and your joy might be full." Therefore, He says, I command you to love, so that, because friendship makes all My things common with your own, you might, for My sake and for the sake of My things, rejoice in the same delight as I do. B "For you have died, and your life," He says, "is hidden with Christ in God"; in the same way also is your joy and all other things, and there is nothing human among them. And in a brief statement, the blessed Paul declares all things: "You are not," he says, "your own; for you were bought with a price." But one who is bought does not look to himself, but to the one who bought him, and he lives according to the will of the latter. Although with men he who serves is bound only in body according to the master's pleasure, while in will and intellect he is free to use them as he wishes; yet he whom Christ has bought is no longer his own, since no one of men bought the whole man, nor is there a price with which it is possible to purchase a human soul; whence no one has released or enslaved a man beyond the body, but the Savior has purchased the whole man. Since even as man, though men pay money only for a slave, He offered Himself and gave up His body and soul for our freedom—and He brought about the death [of the flesh], while the soul was delivered from the body—and the body was tortured with stripes, while she [the soul] was grieved not only when the body was slain, but even before the blow. "My soul," He says, "is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." C And thus, giving Himself wholly, He buys the whole man; therefore, He also purchased the will, and especially this. For as to other things, He was Lord and held sway over our entire nature; but that which we were using to flee from servitude was the will, and there was nothing He did not do to gain this. For just because He sought the will, He did nothing by violence nor did He seize it, but He bought it; whence no one of those who have been bought, when using his will for himself, will act justly, but he will wrong the One who bought him by depriving Him of His possession. But one might use his will for himself, by willing himself and rejoicing in his own things. D It remains, then, for no one of the good and righteous to love himself, but only the One who bought him, since it is altogether necessary that some, if not all, of those who have been bought should be such; for how is it reasonable that that fearful purchase should have been made in vain? And those who love Him alone would follow Him, having a delight pure from all sorrow, because the Beloved does nothing contrary to their own wills, and they would have the greatest, supernatural, and divine [delight], inasmuch as they empty out here in full...
the power of joy, and because that which delights them surpasses every excess of grace. And otherwise, just as it is necessary for the one serving men to be grieved, so it is necessary for the one serving Christ to rejoice. For he is no longer fulfilling his own will, but that of his Purchaser; the former advances through labors and pains, following the one responsible for his grief and pain, but how would he—the latter—who is led by true joy, be saddened? For on the one hand, he who pays money for a slave does not pay it seeking to do the sold one good, but so that he himself might obtain good from that source and profit from his labors. Whence the servant, as if consumed for the utility of the purchasers, and providing delicacies for those through whom he is himself miserable, is subjected to continuous afflictions. On the other hand, it is the reverse: for all things have been wrought for the approval of the servants, and He gave the ransom, not that He Himself might enjoy any of the redeemed, but that what is His might become theirs, and the Master might be gain, and the Master’s labors might be profit for the servants, and the sold one B himself, having taken the One who was bought, might possess Him. Because of this, those who have not leapt away from this servitude, but before all freedom have made His chains their own, must necessarily rejoice, having exchanged wealth for poverty, a kingdom for a prison, and the highest glory for the ultimate disgrace; for what is permitted to men as masters to do toward slaves by the laws, this is granted to the servants toward the common Master through the Master’s philanthropy. For the law constitutes those as masters of the slaves and of what belongs to the slaves, unless they forfeit the lordship or release them from servitude; but these possess their own Master and are heirs of His goods, if they cherish His yoke and hold themselves bound by the purchase. And this is what Paul exhorted, saying: “Rejoice in the Lord,” indicating the One who bought them through the Lord. And the Savior, clearly manifesting the cause of joy for us, names the servant who is to share His own joy a “good servant,” and calls Himself Lord: “Enter,” He says, “good servant, into the joy of your Lord,” because you remained a servant and did not tear up the document of C the purchase, receive the joy of the Purchaser Himself. For the joy is the same, not only because the thing that gladdens is the same, but also because the mode of benevolence is the same. For just as He pleased not Himself, but lived and died for the servants, and was born from the beginning, and returned to Himself, and having attained the paternal throne, sits there for us, and exists as an intercessor for us toward Him forever, so it is with the servants, to whom the Master is dearer than their souls, and who, not turning back to themselves, love only Him. Such was John, and therefore, when his own honor was eclipsed by the appearance of the Other, he was so far from being vexed that he himself was the herald and demonstrator to those who were ignorant of them. To have his own glory diminished by that tongue to which he owed allegiance was the pleasantest thing to him; and he judged it worthy that He should turn all eyes toward Himself, and reconcile the whole race to Himself, and that all should attend to Him, just as the bride to the bridegroom; D as for himself, if he were but able to hear Him,
A and this were the extent of his zeal, he would have foregone anything, just to hear the voice of the Beloved. Yet Paul, in seeking what was His, did not only despise himself, but even surrendered himself; for he cast himself into Gehenna for His sake—and indeed he prayed for this passion; it was a kind of riddle. For because he loved Him whom he loved so vehemently, he desired to be deprived, and it seems that this love did not only inflame him more fiercely than Gehenna, but it even prevailed over the very joy of being with the Beloved. For just as he was persuaded to despise that joy, so he was easily led to disregard it, even though he had already gained a clear experience and tasted of His beauty. But although being with Him, and living with Him, and reigning with Him was for his own sake and for his own glorification, he sought not his own glory so much as His, and he even desired that the latter should be preferred. Therefore, in desiring, he did not desire for his own sake, but for the sake of Him for whose favor he would have fled, had it been necessary to flee. If, then, he did not wish for even that which was uniquely desirable for his own sake, what then of all other things? For if, for the sake of Him for whom he did all things and endured all things, he sought not, looking toward himself, nor that he himself might enjoy them, having neglected all other things which he despised; from this it is evident that he had entirely fled from himself and had cast aside all thought of himself, and had flown to Christ alone. Since, moreover, nothing was hateful nor repugnant to his will, it happened that his will was admirable, which he always enjoyed, and no distress remained in that B soul. For if he lamented or was sorrowful about certain things, still his sadness did not overcome his joy, nor did anything disturb him from it, since that form of desolation was filled with joy; for this was the fruit of charity and magnanimity, and no bitterness, nor harshness, nor pusillanimity entered his heart. That he rejoiced always is manifest from the fact that he exhorted others to rejoice always: "Rejoice," he says, "in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice." He would certainly not have enjoined such things upon others had he not first shown the example himself in his own deeds. Such is the life of the saints, and so is it blessed now, as is fitting, for those who by faith and hope receive the fruit of this beatitude; but after they have departed, it is all the better, inasmuch as it is more perfect to enjoy the things themselves than to hope for them, and for the pure vision of the Good to surpass faith. The goods of this life are, on the part of God, the Spirit of adoption, whence comes perfect charity, according to which is the blessed life. For He permitted them to receive C the mysteries of Christ, and to those who had received Him, "He gave," as it is said, "power to become children of God"; and of the children is the perfect charity, from which all fear has been cast out. For neither the loss of reward nor punishment can be feared by one who loves in such a way; for the former belongs to slaves, the latter to hirelings; but a candid love is the portion only of children. And in this way, grace infuses true charity into the souls of the initiated; what it works in them, and what kind of experiment it provides, they can know who have learned: but what..."
A can be said generally, is that it imparts a perception of divine goods, and from the taste of great things it inspires hope for greater things, and plants a firm faith from what is already present regarding what is not yet manifest.
As for what depends upon us, it is to keep charity; for it is not enough to have loved and to have received the affection, but it is necessary also to preserve it and to provide fuel for the fire so that it may be held. For this is what it means to remain in charity, in which is all blessedness, namely, to remain in God, and remaining, to possess Him. "For he who remains," He says, "in charity, remains in God and God in him." Now this happens, and we have charity established in the will, when we arrive through the commandments and keep the laws of the Beloved. For through actions the soul is disposed toward this or that habit, according as those actions have the character of goodness or of wickedness, since we also acquire and learn those arts B to which we have accustomed ourselves through actions.
But the laws of God, which concern human actions and define them, and direct them to Him alone, instill in those who succeed in them the only consistent habit: which is to desire what seems good to the Lawgiver, and to subject the whole will to Him alone, and besides Him to desire nothing—which is the only thing that is to know perfectly how to love. And for this reason the Savior says: "If you keep my commandments, you shall remain in my love."
The work of this charity is the blessed life. For it gathers the will from all sides, and leading it away from all other things, and even from the one who wills, it attaches it to Christ alone. For all our things follow the will, and wherever it carries them, they go—the impulse of the body, the movement of reason, and every action and every human thing whatever. And in short, the will leads and carries everything that is ours, and if it is held fast somewhere, everything is bound there, and whoever has mastered it, has the whole mind. Therefore, those C whose will has been captured by the love of Christ and adheres to Him alone, and for whom He is everything they desire and everything they love and seek—for them, their whole being and life is in Him; since even the will itself cannot live and be active unless it remains in Christ, because every good is there, just as an eye would not have the power to perform its functions without using the light. For it is the light that alone works vision for it, and the will is able to act only toward the Good; whence, since He is the distributor of all good things, if we do not place our whole will in Him, but some part of the will falls outside of this treasure, it is idle and dead. "For," He says, "if anyone does not remain in me, he is cast out like a branch and withers; and they gather them and cast them into the fire, and it is burned."
But if also to imitate Christ and to live according to Him is to live in Christ, and this is the work of the will when it obeys the commandments of God. Just as He subjected His human will to the divine—and in order to teach us this and to leave us an example of the right life, He did not refuse to die for the world when it was necessary to die—yet before D the time had come, He prayed, showing that He did not please Himself in His sufferings, but, as Paul says, became obedient and came to the cross, as if not having one will, or out of two one,
A but a confession of two wills; thus it appears that the blessed life consists in the perfection of the will in all things. In the present life, however, I say: since there are two things of which man consists, the mind and the will, he who is to be entirely blessed must necessarily, according to both of these, coalesce and be joined to God—seeing Him purely with the mind, and loving Him perfectly with the will. But it does not befall anyone living in a corruptible body to be blessed in both B respects; only that life which has been delivered from corruption will receive such men. In this present life, however, regarding the will, the blessed are perfect in things pertaining to God, but not regarding the efficacy of the mind: you will find among them perfect charity, but not by any means pure vision of God. For if, although they are still living in the body, the future is present to them, and they have already had some experience of the struggles, yet this does not happen continuously, nor perpetually, C nor perfectly, as this present life does not permit it; and for this reason, "We rejoice in hope," says Paul, "and we walk by faith, not by sight, and we know in part." Yet he did see Christ, but he did not always abide in such a vision. For he will see this always only in the future, and he himself demonstrated this, since he discoursed about that presence, adding: "And so shall we always be with the Lord." Whence if anyone in Christ lives with the body and has been able to seize the eternal life from here, as Paul D exhorted, he possesses this in the will, having attained an inexpressible joy through charity, while the pure vision of the mind is reserved for him in the future, faith meanwhile guiding him toward charity; this the blessed Peter shows: "In whom, though now you do not see Him, yet believing, you rejoice with joy inexpressible and glorified."
In this charity and joy the blessed life consists. This life is in part hidden, according to the word of Paul: "For our life," he says, "is hidden with Christ in God"; but part of it is manifest, as the Lord also says: "The spirit breathes where it wills, and you hear its voice, but you do not know whence it comes and where it goes; so is everyone who is born of the spirit." For as regards the grace itself that generates and forms us, as to what it is and in what manner it regenerates, the life is hidden; but it is manifest to those who are living and have become participants in it, what that ineffable love toward God and the joy resting upon it is. For these things themselves are both manifest and indicate the invisible grace, first because these are the fruits of grace (for "the fruit," he says, "of the Spirit is love, joy," and "the tree is known by its fruit"); then because grace is the spirit of adoption, and charity testifies that they have obtained this kinship and that they are sons of God, having nothing servile nor mercenary about them. And in this way also Solomon found the mother of the living child, and deemed his bearing him a sufficient sign of his vehement love: whence it is not absurd that the sons of the living God by this also
A learn by that same proof the living God. Just as maternal love and care for the living child clearly demonstrated that she had nothing in common with the dead infant, so too, regarding these people, their reverence for and living charity toward the living God is a manifest demonstration that they were not born of the dead—the fathers whom the Savior did not even allow those living in such a way to bury («For,’’ He says, ‘‘let the dead bury their own dead’’)—since they do not confirm their sonship to themselves by this alone, that they cleave to God as Father and love Him, but also because, through love, they resemble Him, in that they are loving, while God is love, and they live for the sake of love. For these are the ones who are truly living, among whom this noble passion is nurtured, just as for those from whom it is absent, all things are dead. Therefore, because they are sons, through the things they do they honor the Father, and being alive themselves, they proclaim as a living God the One by whom they were begotten; and by the newness of life in which they walk according to the word of Paul, they, full of faith, glorify the Father who is in heaven, for the ineffable generation by which they were begotten from Him. Thus mystically and humanely are they begotten; and as it seems, for this reason God is not the God of the dead, but of the living, because He finds His own glory in them. Whence also He said to the wicked, ‘‘If I am God, where is my glory?’’ David, indicating this, says, ‘‘The dead will not praise thee, O Lord, but we who are living.’’
Such is life in Christ; thus it is hidden, and thus it is manifested by the light of good works, which is charity. For in this is the splendor of all virtue, and it constitutes life in Christ, insofar as it pertains to human B activity. Whence one would not err in calling it life; for it unites one to God, and this union is life, just as we know that death is separation from God. Therefore, ‘‘His commandment,’’ he says, ‘‘is eternal life,’’ speaking of charity. And the Savior Himself says, ‘‘The words that I speak to you are spirit and are life,’’ of which charity is the head; and, ‘‘He who abides in charity abides in God, and God in him,’’ where it is the same thing to remain in life and for life to be in him; ‘‘For I,’’ He says, ‘‘am the life.’’ But if life is also the power that moves living things, what is it that moves men who are truly living, whose God is the God who is the God not of the dead but of the living? You will find nothing but charity itself, which not only leads and drives them, but even easily exacts obedience from them, and thus is able to act upon them more than any life, so that it is more powerful than life! For it persuades them to despise life, not only the fleeting but even the stable. What, then, would be more justly called life than charity? Without these, when all else is taken away, what alone surviving does not allow the living to die—this is life—and of such a kind is charity. For with all other things failing for the future life, as Paul says, charity alone remaining suffices for this life in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom is due all glory for ever. Amen.
NICOLAS CABASILAS: SERMON AGAINST USURERS
A There are those who, ill-instructed and I know not by what arguments, maintain that there is no necessity at all to keep the law that forbids usury; rather, that those who keep it deserve praise, but those who wish to transgress it are permitted to do so. They reason poorly, and I know not what logic they employ. First of all, one would not see any of the ancient laws so laid down that it was permitted for those who wished to trample upon them; rather, every transgression and disobedience received just retribution. Then, usury would not be reckoned among crimes, nor would usurers be pilloried with reproaches, if it were permitted to make a profit in this way; for no one would justly blame what is allowed. But now, David himself sets this matter down as a crime, and openly counts it among those things that are accused as wickedness; and he does this partly while branding the wicked city, along with all those things for which he drives them—and he also laments this: B "And iniquity and labor in the midst of it, and injustice, and usury and deceit failed not from its streets." And in the passages where he proclaims the good news of the Savior's coming, and explains how great are the goods with which he will deign to favor the human race, and from how many evils he will rescue it, he assails usury and that heap of evils: "And from usury, he says, and iniquity he will deliver their souls." And by the fact that he condemns it, and joins it to iniquity, deceit, and injustice, he demonstrates the magnitude of the wickedness.
Let us consider, moreover, why this law prevailed universally among the people of the Hebrews—a people so great and so mixed, in whom there was much vice and little probity—and why usury, together with murder, theft, and other vices, was expelled from the commonwealth. C For if it were free of crime, whence did the law have such power? For it was not some loftiness of spirit that brought the multitude under the law, since it did not treat all as free—
A from the charges of stinginess and avarice and pettiness and greed. And yet, regarding adultery, murder, and housebreaking, even if the law did not impose penalties, the dangers with which such deeds are necessarily committed would turn men away from them. But usury is not considered a task, nor is the business full of dangers, but one only needs to increase gain by doing nothing at all. What, then, would persuade men who are not at all noble to despise a profit so free from trouble, if some grave punishment were not lying in wait? That the Hebrews so revered the law is clear from the fact that even today they still maintain that opinion and sentiment, honoring the law, although in many respects they observe the institutions of their religion much more slothfully than their ancestors. B Since, therefore, giving on usury was a crime for the Hebrews, to whom many forbidden things were permitted, what account will Christians give for this profit, for whom even to remain in the ways of the ancients is a fault, and not to surpass the written law in righteousness is to be cast out of the kingdom of heaven? For fornication did not seem so terrible to them, and such a disgrace was far from being a liability. "Let it not be so much as named among us," He says; but for us, even the glances of lustful eyes have their penalties. And for them, there was even a law to swear [by the Lord], but now it is the work of hypocrites and the wicked and men of such ilk. And it was permitted to them to hate their enemy, but now this very thing is punished, and so far beyond forgiveness C that, with the soul strengthened in this evil, one does not even dare to ask for the remission of other sins, as if it were impossible to obtain forgiveness without being reconciled to those who have harmed us, even if we repent a thousand times and pour forth rivers of tears. And thus, that which was the only remedy for human evils avails nothing against this disease, but it is more powerful than the much-praised repentance, and its labors, and propitiatory sacrifices. It does not permit one to reap the fruit of good works, however excellent and worthy of the highest praise they may be; but just as a mist spread over everything spoils it, so malice of heart on account of an old injury, a most terrible evil, corrupts everything. Yet it was permitted to the Hebrews, D while lending at interest was pursued. Where, then, shall we rank usury in the hierarchy of vice, when we see it as an evil worse than strange wickedness? For what else could it show of one who permits the one but forbids the other? Then will anyone still dare to claim that usury is free of blame, when misanthropy and licentiousness and the greatest of evils seem more tolerable before God the Lawgiver? And this is to be insane: either to deem the discipline of the new law inferior to the old, or to believe that Christ came into the world not to fulfill the law, but to empty and overturn it. But if this is manifest impiety, and Christ is the fulfillment of the law, let them demonstrate that it is better and wiser to trample upon the law
A *and to maintain usury, [and to account] such defrauders and extortioners as more humane than those who lend without interest.* For there is a necessity that those who cannot do this must fall into one of two [errors]: either to stand, with the Jews, against the new law, and to inherit their madness; or else, if they avoid this, to clearly understand the original intention, and to bring usury under the ultimate penalty—which they would choose if they were even slightly wise.
For the matter stands thus: It was required that a law B more wise and better should come to men, and the legislator himself was present. For who else would be trusted with the letters, or [who else] gave these things? Furthermore, if the law is suspended from the love of God and fellow servants—that law which punishes the murderer, the adulterer, the thief, and the false witness, and which removes usury and drives away hatred toward one's neighbor, and other such laws intending to dispose men toward mutual love—these could only accomplish as much as to cause one to love his benefactor and to do no evil to one who has done him no harm; yet in neither of these resides true humanity. For not to hate is not yet to love; and to love one who has done well is a lover of the benefit, not the man. Since it was necessary to introduce in this way the love that was missing from those ancient letters—for this was the fulfilling of the law—what other person was it fitting to set over this duty but the finisher of the law himself? C Accordingly, he did introduce it. For we do not await some third testament, nor another guide and moderator of the people who will enact better laws. Consequently, there was need of laws not only [saying], "You shall not hate your neighbor," but also, "You shall love your neighbor." But if you will love, you will also do good, not only in return, but also by being kind. And if this is so, it is not merely that you will not exact interest on your silver from your brother—which is to say, you will gain nothing from him—but that, more than this, you will share your own [possessions] with him. These things must be fulfilled in every way, and nothing prevents the negligent from experiencing that celebrated Gehenna surrounding the obstacle: "This is my commandment," he says, "that you love one another"; not one of the commandments, but the commandment itself. D If, then, this is the entire law of Christ, this is that which possesses the crowns; and on account of it, Gehenna, darkness, and the most grievous of all evils are threatened against us. For if to violate the whole law is not a crime, I know not for what sins we shall pay the penalties, or who shall be beaten with many [stripes].
And what is the need of these things, when it is possible to read the very judgment of the legislator and to confirm the proposition? "Depart from me," he says, "you cursed, into the eternal fire," not because you took interest from your brothers, but because you did not distribute your own resources to those in need. Do you hear? If he punishes those who do not give away their own [possessions] with such great evils, then those defrauders and extortioners...
A from whom will he deliver them? But you, who possess usury, do you imagine you will escape Gehenna? And do you think you are in your right mind? And how is it that you are not, rather, more foolish, and more worthy of the ultimate punishments, by as much as you do not even know where your evils lie? And are you not ashamed, being wicked, nor do you blush, nor do you seek a pit [to hide in], but you look upon the ray with steady eyes?
And why do I speak? For the worst thing of all is that to some of these "noble" men, B usury even appears to be an act of mercy, and they boast of their loans as if initiated into certain virtues, and they enumerate those to whom they lent, and from whom they gained, as beneficiaries of their own perversity. You are "honorable" while practicing usury, when you ought to be buried alive? And "merciful" while giving in order to gain? Then you would also say that a farmer nourishes the earth because he casts seed in order to take back more; or rather, I suppose, you would call the banquet of a cannibal "benevolence," because he feeds a man well and finely in order to devour him when he is plump. And so you too give, in order that you may C pile up your money by harvesting the fruits of others' labors. Is that so, you are merciful? And are you not ashamed to impose the most beautiful of names upon the most shameful thing of all?
But "I have rescued many from poverty," he says. Not because you intended it, but because it so happened. For you were looking only to gain, and in giving the loan itself, you were aiming at how you might shift the belongings of the poor man over to yourself under the name of usury. But if he, having put the loan to good use, amplified his property and cast poverty out of his house, that is not your work. And even if we grant this, certainly, insofar as you lent, you were useful, not insofar as you defrauded him. But now D you are not accused by us because you give a loan, nor because you ask for the principal, but because you demand usury on top of it. This does not defeat poverty, but induces it; nor does it contribute anything of yours to the poor man, but fills your hands with his property. And to you it has made more money, but to him, an empty house. Is this "humanity" and "care for the poor"? And what prevents one from thinking that killing is saving, and defrauding is supplying, and torturing with hunger is feeding, and inflicting blows is fawning? And so you will mix all things up. These things are ridiculous and nonsense, and nothing is sound in them. Or rather, if it were ridiculous, it could be borne; but as it is, weeping 40 and gnashing of teeth is the fruit of usury, and to suffer with the demons and the unhappy crowd of the damned. For it says: "Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire, which is prepared for the devil and his angels."
But "these things have nothing to do with me," says the usurer, "who gave money, and food, and clothing to the poor man." But they are not from your own [possessions], as long as usury is in your hands. But the Law says, "You shall share from your own," and not, even if you cast all the usury upon the poor; for then why do you even take it? And you are breaking the law of God, committing such great audacity, from which it is impossible to gain anything. And if you give less than what you take, you are not...
A actually worse than those sent into Gehenna, by as much as it is more tolerable neither to do good to anyone, nor to do evil, than to do wrong.
But the law, he says, is contrary to the common good; for it is necessary that there be lenders in the cities. Yet if interest is removed, it is necessary that there be no lenders. And God, indeed, established what He thought was profitable; but you annul it, and think that you are legislating better than God, and that you are providing for the common affairs of men more wisely and looking out for them more humanely. If, indeed, you were to step forward in the midst of Athens and attempt to persuade them to abrogate the laws of Solon or Lycurgus, you would have to die before you uttered a sound. But now, as you accuse the law of God, and that, too, B a public injury, do you not deem this rashness an injury? Do you not fear extreme madness, or lightning?
Nay, rather, there ought to be no words from us now toward these foolish as well as rash men—or rather, so that those who seem to be saying something might not deceive some—let us examine the states of every age that have lived well, in which there was absolutely no place for interest.
First, in what were the Hebrews more unfortunate because they kept the law? Were they not most happy? Did they not flourish with trophies? Did they not occupy the regions of their enemies? And as for the Barbarians who now inhabit Palestine, and the so numerous race of the Latins, not only keeping the law but not even worshiping it, do they not fare well? To us alone, I know not what kind of wise men this tribe of usurers C has discovered, a certain new salvation of the state, which is iniquity, and they study to persuade men, just as the first impostor persuaded the first man, to prefer their own opinion to the commandments of God, and that those should be neglected, but their own held to, as if they were the best of all; and that to violate the law is nothing sacrilegious, and, moreover, useful to those who dare it, just as that ancient deceiver: "You shall not," he says, "die the death, but you shall be as gods." Are not the voices of these men such? And, feeling these things, they do not tremble, nor do they blush; but they accuse the divine law for those very things in which they themselves are detrimental to the state, and for which they ought to be punished with the most extreme torments. For God commanded both: that there be lenders D in the cities, and that usuries be absent from the cities. But these men, because it is not permitted to practice usury, thinking therefore that not even a loan should be given, they themselves remove lenders from the cities, and blame the law for the matter.
Although, if a loan could not be pure from usury, and nature did not allow it otherwise, but it happened by necessity that, with usuries removed, lenders could not exist, it would be fair to attribute the blame to the law, which had not demanded usurers, but had introduced by them those whom it had not necessarily demanded. But if there is no necessity at all for lending at interest, and nature prevents nothing from being lent freely, and all mortals who despise your opinion testify to this, you...
A dare not show mercy without the hope of gain; why, casting off the intention, do you accuse the law of the evils of which you yourself ought to be charged, and pursue public misdeeds of which you yourself are the cause? For if some invincible force had forbidden you to be a lender, and you had a way to retreat to such arguments, from which you might show that you do not sin willingly, you would rightly be excused, having transferred the blame from yourself elsewhere. But now, by pretending a good intention, and professing that you wish indeed to lend without gain, but that it is not permitted—this is utterly ridiculous, if you think you are defending yourself by destroying the charges with the charges themselves, and by setting before us as an excuse for what you are accused of—namely, that you are wicked of mind—that which is no excuse at all. For you cannot say that you are unable to lend, but rather that you do not wish to do so without interest. In this way, we would also speak of the adulterer and the murderer, that they dare such things because of an evil mind, and there is no excuse if one has not chosen to be good. B
Furthermore, if usury were something praiseworthy, the law would fall into blame for forbidding what it ought to have sanctioned; and no one would consider you at fault for embracing a thing that is not evil. But if it is something inhuman and wicked, he who leads you away from shameful things deserves even praise. But you, running from there to another crime, and exchanging evil for evil—that is, the lending of interest for the non-lending—are clearly shown from that very fact and from your own self to be wicked. For if, because you are driven away from these evils, you pass on to others, and you blame the one who drove you from the former for the latter, you would also have to concede that the laws are the cause of the baseness of the footpad and the housebreaker; for as the laws do not openly allow them to be filled with the property of others, they drive them to nocturnal wickedness. C For even robbers, if it were permitted for them to live in cities and use their own inclination, would not have whetted their swords against passersby in the mountains and remote places, preferring to be superior to courts and laws. In the same way, what need would there have been for tomb-robbers by night, and for madness against the dead, if the law permitted them to besiege the living by day, and to strip whomsoever they wished without any fear? And, in short, you would not find any one of these destructive and wicked men who has not been restrained from those misdeeds by the constraint of the law, yet has stepped forward to these things freely and willingly. What then? Shall we let them go as innocent, and cast the blame for their nefariously committed acts onto the laws? And shall we allow them to wander free of punishment, while we drive out from the cities the judges, and laws, and rights—which are the most beneficial things in the life of men—as if they were expiatory victims? D Even if some madman were to say this, I do not believe it would please those who dare such evils themselves; rather, laws in every nation are not the cause for men to act wickedly, and those who sin bring upon themselves fitting rewards and suffer the penalty they have stoked for themselves. Why then do you trust that you will be innocent by such a defense, which has never profited any wicked man? Neither, therefore, to lending at interest...
A you have the law, but whichever you commit, you are convicted of inhumanity. For in not loving your fellow man, you surely dare both this and that.—B And what terribleness, he says, if we take nothing from the poor, but demand interest from the rich? By all means, yes. For this is to act against the law, to receive back money lent with an increase; but to hang the poor man, to press him by famine, to strip him of his garments—this is no longer interest, but a greater evil. Since even among housebreakers the crime is worse if the one despoiled is poor, and much more so if the perpetrators happen to be wealthy. And they are even more abominable and wicked if, from those by whom they have been benefited, they have become evil toward those very people. But not one whit the more is the lighter of evils exempted from punishment because of the worse ones. When, therefore, the law exacts penalties for those, it is clearly warring more fiercely against the worse ones, by which it punishes these things, valuing the former more highly. For if in every instance C of wickedness, where some act more tolerably and others more wickedly, the lawgiver punished only those apprehended, he would appear to pardon the evil deeds of the others; but since the votes of the judges lead both these and those to judgment, it is manifest that the laws which bring these to justice are established against the lighter evils; and indeed no worse evil is defined, nor is it possible to find anything further. Against whom, then, will the law stand, if there is no one against whom it shall stop? For if we now take the one caught for theft, there is a worse one, the housebreaker, to be found; and shall we then transfer the judgment to that one, and acquit this one, having shown him more tolerable than another? And in this way, if the law always proceeded, it would never find the guilty person. Just as, therefore, the law, "You shall not murder" (Exodus 20:13), does not pursue the parricide, or the fratricide, or any specific type of murderer, but simply the manslayer: so too with the thief, and the adulterer, and any malefactor. In the same way, the command, "You shall not lend at interest to your brother" (Deut. 23:19), is not one that divides D usury, forbidding one kind and establishing another, but one that utterly exterminates all usury.
But, you object, the imperial law has permitted gaining in this way, which it would never have done if sin were inherent in it. And how is it not absurd, if men have allowed these things to be reasoned out, that you do not think to heed that God has commanded us to flee from them? And that you should consider human law as sufficient evidence that the gain is not evil, but when God, through the things He has forbidden, testifies to much baseness in it, you judge it to be no more evil? And how much better would you have judged if you had rendered your verdict according to the judgment of God rather than following the laws of men? To me, indeed, even to compare anything to the divine law seems the height of audacity and a poverty of reason; not to mention the labor of trying to persuade men who are little pious as to which of the laws they ought rather to obey. For come, if it were necessary to learn whether usury is to be reckoned among sins, which master would you choose? Would you not choose God, if you were even slightly wise? Now, if by the laws thus pu-
pushing against one another, it is necessary while keeping one to despise the other, which will you choose as a defense for your transgression: the worldly one or the human one? For this is a justification used by the inferior, if one were to say that he despised one for the sake of those greater, as if by revering the inferior one were betraying the greater—how could there be pardon for those who ask it, when the crime becomes worse? Just as if someone were to neglect the command of a king because a soldier or a baggage-carrier gave the opposite order. For he would be far from escaping the penalty, and would the more rightly pay it, since he did not act out of ignorance or deficiency of memory, but did so deliberately, and even brought the baggage-carrier before the king. But what would you deem yourself worthy of, if you were to do what is right, since «Something greater than Solomon is here,» he says, and you are as much less than God as the king is more noble than a baggage-carrier, a difference that cannot even be spoken or conceived? And therefore you are as much more insulting as there is a greater difference between God and a king. Why are you not ashamed to break the commandment of God with the wicked Pharisees for the sake of the tradition of men? And yet, not all legislators have the same judgment or the same opinion in this matter. There are those who introduced usury; there are those who abolished it: so that if we leave everything else of theirs behind and look only at this, [we see] that pardon is received from one source and permitted from another, and that you are no more absolved from the crime because of the former than you see yourself bound by the latter. A
"Yes," he says, "but those who permit it are of ancient times." This you most absurdly adopt as a defense, as if those who are younger or born later were always worse. Then how do you not notice that you yourself are more recent than those whose laws you select and whose you reject? For consider that he is more ancient than the lawgiver who first abolished usury, and more ancient than you and your calculations—that is, the one who advocates for the Divine Law. So if it is necessary to add antiquity to the law and to think it pertains to the reverence of the law, you have earned a penalty for this as well, because you despise that which is most ancient. B
Furthermore, one who looks into the matter more deeply will confess that even those who permit usury condemn it as something most shameful, and indeed they clearly show by many proofs that they have a poor opinion of it. First of all, the law says it is not permitted for any of the noble C or of the priests to practice usury, yet to those to whom they did permit it, they allowed the baser sort to take more, but the better and more honorable to take less. Or do they, I ask, think this law is good and just, or rather shameful, if they seek to exempt good men from it? For I believe that if there is anything honorable or sacred in cities, it is fitting for the best of the citizens rather than for the dregs of the crowd, and the legislators speak first to the former, and in the second place to the lesser, because the former ought to be leaders in what is right, while the latter ought to follow. But here the exact opposite is the case, for the most wicked of men have been the leaders in usury, and those follow who have some trace of these habits, and are so much the closer to the depths of malice. For these reasons even the legislators wrote thus concerning these things D
A, demonstrating the wickedness of the matter and asserting that to the most base of men the most interest by far belongs, but least of all to the best; and that of the others, by as much as one possesses goodness of character, by so much he is removed from interest, and by as much as one possesses of wickedness, by so much he possesses interest. And how could anyone more effectively have forbidden interest and cast it out of the state than by legislating such things? For through those things by which they allow base men to gain in this way, they dishonor the usurers (or: condemn them); and this is indeed a punishment for them among those who appear to advocate for them. For in ancient times dishonor (atimia) stood as a penalty for some crimes, and the Greeks punished many of the most wicked with this, and they went about dishonored, paying this very penalty for whatever they had done wrong against the city or anyone among the private citizens. And these men they rightly declare dishonored, through the things they allow them, having forbidden them to men who are held in esteem; and the myth says that Paris, by the gift of the apple, pointed out the most beautiful. But these men, by allowing the shameful and base to gain through evil means, and [much] as no wealthy man would deign to look at a garment that was vile and rotten, yet a poor and wretched man might indeed deign to pick it up and wrap himself in it, in the same way they throw the gain from interest to the base, as if it were a dance, or hire, or some other shameful thing. And what punishment could be worse, if one is truly a man and desires what befits a human being, and is not shaped according to the harmony of swine? It is manifest, therefore, that not even those who grant [usury] themselves leave the [usurers] free from accusation.
Why then do they legislate thus? one might say. By setting B boundaries to wickedness so that you might not take amounts equal to the principal, or slightly less, but might learn, even if unwilling, to be moderately wicked; just as they allow harlots to the profligate, and do not drive them out of the cities, guarding against a worse evil, namely, that the chastity of married women might not be insidiously attacked. And this is evident; for as for the prescribed interest, they forbade exceeding the measure, but they by no means forbade going within it; and a moneylender could not take more than what is defined, even if he brings forth documents and even if the borrower has strongly agreed [to pay more], but it is entirely permitted for him both to agree to and to receive less; and what is still more manifest: not even the less is indicated, nor, as there is a maximum interest, is there a minimum decreed, but it is always intact to give a loan, even if the debtor agrees to give nothing in the name of interest, and has given nothing. And what is it that he would agree to? For if he has borrowed in silence, and the creditor does not make mention of interest, and later he demands interest along with the principal, he is talking nonsense. C Do you see that this law concerning interest is not of those who desire interest, but of those who are destroying it? But if not clearly so, one must not be surprised, just as with temple-robbers or thieves; since the legislators do not punish many other wicked people either—from whom, however, God demands the most severe penalties—and no one, having brought in their writings, would be able to refute the fact D that
A many other evils, for which hell is the recompense, are not penalized by the laws for those who commit them. The reason is this: because the life that humans lead is twofold, and the tribunal is likewise twofold; yet the legislators do not provide for our future life, nor do they bring accusations before that judge. But just as it is, of course, the concern of pilots at sea to look after their passengers only as long as the voyage lasts, and they do not consider it their duty to inquire into what is to their advantage beyond the harbor, nor does any of their private business concern them; so too you may see the founders of laws, while regulating and organizing the life that humans live here, having no concern for what is to befall them in the future or in what way they might escape eternal punishments. Wherefore, nothing prevents someone who is only "good" in civil society, though buried in sins, from departing from here having acquired a reputation for mildness and justice, only to be classified there among the most wicked and to receive the worse sentence.
Since these things are so, and the current punishments are one thing, while the judgment that awaits us is another, do not measure the future by the present; nor hope to enjoy a benevolent God whose laws you have dared to despise, even if those who share your nature as judges do not think poorly of you. Reflect on this, among many other things: that no legislator has ever prosecuted anyone for sordidness, greed, or inhumanity toward the needy, and anyone who might bring an accusation against them before such judges would end up in a worse position than the one accused, and would lose his case. B But when God judges these very crimes, the punishment will be hell. Therefore, just as a person who is envious, incapable of forgetting injuries, filled with hatred for his neighbor, doing nothing good for anyone, and committing such wicked deeds, even if he is found innocent before earthly judges, has no reason to expect a better sentence from heaven; consider the same regarding the usurer.
"Whence, then," he says, "shall we have our livelihood, we who have learned neither agriculture, nor know how to trade, nor are we suited for any other gainful art?" But if temple-robbers and thieves also make these same excuses, will you grant them the license for their wickedness? Will you therefore endure house-breakers? And if a thief gets hold of you, strips you of your clothes, and inflicts wounds, has he done no injury? And if a pimp should ruin the chastity of a wife, has he done no harm? For they know no other trade whatsoever. You shall therefore reap the fruit of your own judgment. C But I believe it is necessary—nay, it is as necessary as anything can be—not only to seek what life requires, but also to look into *whence* it must be obtained, since all civil justice consists in this. For if we are always contending with one another about money, possessions, glory, and the like, and there is nothing of these which does not come to us from others—since, having entered into life from the beginning, nothing of these entered with us, but even the field, the garment, the horse, and each of the things we possess, we have received—it is clear that in this the just differ from the wicked: that the former [obtain them] from where they ought, and the others from where they ought not.
A If you were to abolish this distinction, and if it were not justice, but force and necessity, that created masters of wealth and property, then all would be in vain, judges would be babbling to no purpose, the letters of the law would be empty and superfluous, and you would become the gain of the more powerful, and you would be despoiled of your own fortune by those who know no craft, but follow their own laws. Do not, therefore, rely on necessity, nor say that there is need: rather show me this, if you have acquired what you possess justly.
But whom, he says, do we wrong if we receive from those who are willing? Most of all God Himself, toward whom you are found to be contumelious by breaking His law. “For through the transgression of the law,” says Paul, “you dishonor God.” B Next, you wrong those also to whom you are a source of detriment, and who have offended you in nothing. For they do not cast away their silver by design and of their own free will, but they suffer themselves to be deprived of it by you, and make up for one loss with another—the lighter for the heavier one. For because you have bound them with bonds, and because they fear that if they should have need to borrow again, they might be turned away by you, they suffer you to feed upon their substance. Besides this, you wrong the commonwealth itself, and you attack the law given by God, and provoke heavenly retribution.
C And so that you do not think light of my weighty assertion, I shall provide Basil as a witness, whom you will not dare to set aside, whose name is famous among all. For when at one time famine and drought beset his region, he sought from whence the calamity came, and what it was that rendered the clouds so barren and the earth so unfruitful, and he found the root and source of this evil in you moneylenders, and he blames the interest for the disasters. And so that you might believe, you might hear his own words: “Tear up the document of unjust debt, so that the sin may be forgiven; blot out the names of the most grievous usuries, so that the earth may render you its accustomed interest.” For with copper and gold and similar metals that bring forth fruits contrary to nature, the earth, which by nature brings forth its own shoots, becomes barren and destitute of those fruits that are for the many who dwell upon it. Thus he.
Do you see with D how many evils you heap upon the cities? What harm so great has a murderer or a nocturnal thief brought, whom we punish with death, that he could also corrupt the land, and vitiate the air, and rob cities of those things common to the utility of men? You are so far from neither wrongly harming anyone, nor venturing things worthy of forgiveness, nor being liable only for small faults. In the meantime, you are a participant in gatherings, and institutions of life, and human sustenance, while being the bane of men. And you believe in the Savior and His mysteries and life-bearing laws, to which you propose contrary laws. I ask you: are you not ashamed to share the table of Him whom you so greatly oppose? Nor, before you have been restored to grace with Him, do you shudder to join yourself to Him as a table-companion, and imagine that you have fruitfully reclined [at that table] having received such gifts? And yet, this blood is the price of redemption; but you reduce your neighbor to slavery. And He, indeed, was poured out so that you might owe nothing; but you do not release your brother, even when he is paying back the debt. Thus, then, being in opposition, of how many [evils] is it full—
dangers, and to dare to partake of the table [of the Lord], while not yet paying what is owed? So therefore, to dare to enter upon sacred feasts while opposing God, to how many dangers is this full? "Do we provoke the Lord to jealousy? Are we stronger than He?" A says Paul (1 Cor. x, 22).
Beyond all these things, it is fitting to consider and reflect that we must render an account. For the Prophet testifies that those who are enrolled under Christ have been delivered from all iniquity and from the madness of usury: "For from usury," he says, "and from iniquity, He shall redeem their souls" (Psalm LXXI, 14). But as for you, not yet released, but still bearing the chains and being a slave to usury, where shall we rank you? For one of two things is necessary: either the good news of the Prophet is of no effect, or you are not one of those who are honored by Christ. But if it is absurd to admit the former, consider the latter yourself, and whether it is well for you to bring such a judgment upon yourself. But if you are a Christian, and account yourself among that chorus, you will cast away usuries, nor for the sake of such vile gains will you trample upon the divine laws, B or spurn the life with Christ, nor will you make light of hell, and the worm, and the weeping, and the gnashing of teeth, and the most terrible darkness.
But I think that, for the matters proposed, enough has been said, and I do not see what more needs to be added to what has been spoken. But you, either convinced, will change your ways, or at least, having learned from this discourse of mine, will acknowledge that by daring the most terrible things of all, you are liable to both God and the common judgment of many men.
OF SAINT THEODORA THE WIDOW, A NUN OF THESSALONICA
A PRELIMINARY COMMENTARY BY DANIEL PAPEBROCH
(Acta SS., April, day 4, vol. I.)That which Simon the Arab had translated for us into the Latin tongue, our own Athanasius Kircher took care of, celebrating on the fifth day of April the memory of the holy mother Theodora; which words are thus expressed in the printed and manuscript Greek Menaia, who lived, that is to say, in Thessalonica, a most well-known city of Macedonia: and that distich is added: Thessalonica, if you boast of many goods, Among these you also possess Theodora.
Then a distinguished encomium of her life follows in this manner: She entered the monastery and was tonsured as a nun; and having embraced all virtues at once as one, she reached perfection in them. And she cultivated obedience and veneration toward all the sisters of the monastery, and especially the abbess, to such a degree that even after death she displayed the virtue which she had practiced while alive. For she guarded her own life so pure and undefiled by any stain whatsoever, that she left it as a living image for her sisters. After her death, indeed, when she had already been buried for a long time, it also happened that her teacher
A or the head of the convent departed from this life to Christ; and because she had lived most holily, chastely, and religiously, there was a great gathering of many people for her funeral, among whom were illustrious men, religious monks, and a great many laymen. While, therefore, sacred chants and hymns were being sung, and the tomb in which St. Theodora had long since been placed was opened in order to lay the abbess there, a wondrous prodigy occurred, which indeed struck the present spectators with amazement and moved those absent, when they later heard of it, to a salutary repentance for their sins. For when a fitting space in the tomb was granted to those present for this sight, with everyone watching, Theodora, who had long lain in the tomb, drew herself back into the tight space, as if she were alive, to give place to her religious Mother and to show the honor due to her. When all who were present saw this, they stood in astonishment and shouted that solemn cry, "Kyrie eleison, Lord, have mercy." From that time to this, God has worked many miracles through this holy Theodora: for she has freed those possessed by demons, restored sight to the blind, and healed countless sick people.
3. This account, from which we have taken the same narrative, was widely published by the Bishop of Kythira. We gave in the month of February the Life of St. Severus, Bishop of Ravenna, who, as tradition has it, commanded his body long before he died that his wife should move aside quickly to make room for his daughter to be buried, B which was also done. Similar things appear frequently in this work of ours. It is quite credible that a full history of the life of this St. Theodora at one time existed, but we have found no trace of it until now. Leo Allatius, in his *Diatriba* on the writings of the Simeons, separating what truly belongs to Metaphrastes from the lucubrations of certain or uncertain authors, on page 88 first taught us that Nicolaus Cabasilas, archbishop of Thessalonica around the year 1350, had written an encomium of the same saint, which, seeking everywhere, we finally found in the Imperial Library at Vienna, and through the favor of the most learned man, our very dear friend Peter Lambecius, now the prefect of the same library, we received the copy and give it here translated into Latin.
4. It is indeed written with much exaggeration and rhetorical affectation, perhaps more so than its content warrants; yet it taught us much pertaining to history: her fatherland, namely Aegina; her parents, Antonius and Chrysanthe, whose constancy was tested by the heresy obscuring the Church, the iconoclastic heresy, which raged in those times, under Michael the Stammerer, around the third year of his reign, 823 A.D., when he himself C was occupied against the rebel Thomas, and, as Leo Grammaticus writes, D "neglecting every other concern for this one alone, Crete, Sicily, and the islands called the Cyclades (from which Aegina was not far distant) were severed from the Roman Empire by the Africans and Arabs." For by the occasion of this incursion, whether the Aeginetans felt its force in reality, or whether the surrounding danger compelled them to look to their own safety and retreat to safer places, Theodora, who had been joined in marriage not long before, fled to Thessalonica; and there, after offering her daughter to God, she finally became her own mistress upon the death of her husband and embraced the monastic life in her advanced years: in which, persevering to a very deep old age, she seems to have reached about her 80th year or even beyond, towards the 9th century. And all these things are to be learned by us from this encomium of Cabasilas, together with the title *Myrobletis* (Unguentifluous), and the testimony of the healing oil flowing from her tomb, just as we read regarding the saints Nicholas, Demetrius, and Catherine, and find to have happened in this and the following centuries, to confirm the veneration in the Eastern Churches of many other persons illustrious for their holiness.
LAUDATION OF OUR HOLY MOTHER AND MYROBLYTE THEODORA
By Nicholas Cabasilas, Metropolitan of Thessalonica.
PROLOGUE
A To many who admire you, O Myrobyte, it is fitting and incumbent not only to render you the tributes they owe, but also to adorn themselves by doing so—especially when they opportunely compose a discourse about you. It seemed fair to me too that I should not appear alone to be destitute of your graces, which surpass all eloquence, but that I, too, should enter upon your praises and adorn both myself and my discourse with them; and at the same time, as one among many who have often enjoyed your favor, that I might discharge the portion of gratitude that is due to you as best I can. This, therefore, is where our present labor B lies—a task which everyone sees to be heavy and difficult to carry. Yet there is nothing to be feared, since this great saint is accustomed not only to show magnanimity in discourse if one should happen to be unequal to the subjects, but even to assist [the speaker] personally to the highest degree through these very subjects. Furthermore, even if I saw that all those who have spoken about her had either omitted nothing of what was done, or had at least devoted great effort to attaining it, it would still have been worth the effort for me, too, to seek either similar utility in speaking, or at least not to remain entirely idle. For, though it is true that [she benefits] not only them, but all who profess the art of rhetoric in general—if they could be more certain of having their discourse emended than by that license of conjecture which we do not willingly employ.
A Beyond all this, if it should be necessary to contend with these arguments, a second law must always stand for those who speak: either they must offer an eloquence worthy of the subject, or they must remain silent. For those things which exceed the power of praise and transcend all comparison, B if such things have none to adequately praise them, then that which is beyond all others worthy of admiration becomes a kind of riddle, because no one will speak of them. Yet I say this, being more concerned with the truth than anything else: since it is necessary for all who speak on these matters to fall short, let them admit to being unequal to the task and find joy in the dignity of the subject, rather than being distressed by the greatness of the deeds, as if out of envy; for their intention is not to speak for themselves, but for the sake of the deeds. If one must speak the truth, it is fitting for them to undertake exactly that which, even if defeated in discourse, is clearly defended by the truth itself. And since it is necessary to speak through all of this, may Theodora, as she has done in everything else, extend a hand to us here as well, and not allow our words to appear far inferior to those which others have uttered concerning her, although it is absolutely necessary that they be surpassed by the graces with which she herself is endowed.
CAPUT I.
Patria, natales, conjugium S. Theodoræ.
C 3. According to the norm that must be observed by all who undertake a eulogy, it is fitting first of all to make mention of the fatherland, that surely having begun from there, one may then proceed appropriately to the rest. This island, therefore, is the chief among those in Greece: for in size, beauty, and location it surpasses all others surrounding it, and so far exceeds the average that the others appear (as if not strong enough to be compared with Aegina) to cheerfully concede the first place to it. D As for the mildness of the air and the seasons, and the advantages resulting from this, it enjoys so much that it alone can be considered the storehouse of all happiness relative to these things, and it provides to the others the means from which they have their own abundance; from this it comes to pass that the cities are very numerous upon it. If, however, beyond these…
A one might argue toward a greater glory, that which is well-ordered regarding the citizens is what most especially results in its victory over all others; and thus its preeminence in this respect is demonstrated. For that for which it uniquely boasts beyond others, as having dominion over all and taking the first place in everything, and what is truly the greatest thing for its commendation, is the marvelous prosperity of its inhabitants, which is so absolute in all respects that it lacks nothing of what is especially necessary for cities, and [the way in which] it has citizens who are in harmony with one another. For in the goodness of their nature and the adornment of their character, and in all things which a man needs for a life of virtue, they surpass the rest, just as they are fittingly suited to their fatherland; and just as they are adorned B by its praises as if they were their own, so they themselves add a great deal to its commendation, and they adorn one another and fulfill each other’s happiness.
4. The greatest part of these things are the marvelous parents of the great lady, and they who became the cause of her entry into life: for they exceeded all their fellow citizens in wealth, glory, nobility of birth, goodness of morals, the love of God, and, to sum it up in one word, in all things most excellent, to the same degree that they excelled others in these things which I have mentioned and in all other good things. Who is ignorant of Antonius, C who, ordained among the priests and having surpassed all in all things, clearly demonstrated what kind of person he ought to be in his deeds who has received such a calling? For when the sowers of heresies lay in wait and were darkening the Church with the gloom resulting from them, he alone of all, like an eagle in the clouds, having risen above the storm, appeared higher than their contentions. And who would not admire Chrysanthe? Not only on account of her religion and the zeal she had for it—in so much that she would have been ready to suffer all things rather than depart from it in the slightest, and [would have been ready] for others, as if she were a common guardian of piety—but also because of the most sweet composure of her character D and her exercise of all-encompassing virtues, for which cause she deserved to enjoy Antonius, and appeared worthy of this great union.
5. Now that things are thus, and that they have brought together all the most excellent things, the greatest and, as it were, the crowning achievement of all, and the one that adorned them most of all, was the great and marvelous Theodora, who appeared to them as a manifest sign from God that God was well-disposed and merciful toward them, since He therein showed, in a manner of speaking, how much He values what is theirs, and that instead of any other thing, or before every other reward, He gave them their daughter, to such a degree have they attained to virtue and progressed through all things. And thus, O most excellent of women, you result in being best in every way, and you had all things in harmony with yourself—your fatherland, I say, and your parents—so that you might be blessed on every side and might win out in all things through everything. But whether indeed you were not only worthy of them,
A but also far more admirable and greater, and rendered them better than themselves by those things with which you adorned them—who of all people does not know this? We proceed now to speak of the great struggles in philosophy, in which you clearly showed that many who are admired for philosophy were vanquished and were lagging far behind you. And those things which were laid down as a foundation for these, and as it were the preludes to the greatest matters, how could they not lead everyone into astonishment and wonder, and show her to be a clear prophet of future events? She was, to be sure, among children, but she did not hold a childish mind, nor did she look towards games, valuing pleasure derived from them in place of virtue; rather, she took delight in divine exercises, being educated in the sacred scriptures. She emulated, moreover, and sought to have companions who were not accustomed to loving things contrary to these nor to engaging in evil matters—which is a sign of vice—but she attached herself to and lived only with those whom the love of philosophy and of being with God had gripped; for she considered that to be the only happiness B which happens to be pleasing to God, and which leads toward virtue and makes one a sharer in ineffable goods. Thus, then, having prepared her soul, she engaged in marriage, yet she engaged in it no more than was necessary; but she fell so far short of relaxing any of her intensity toward the best things on account of the marriage, that she was even far greater in philosophy—not looking to luxuries and pleasures and the self-indulgence derived from them, nor being overcome by glory or wealth. For she attended only to God and to the things of God, and extended the longing of her soul to Him alone, and directed all her affairs according to His will. § 7. And that I speak the truth is clear from this: for since, having departed from her homeland because of the severe incursions of the Barbarians, she went to dwell in Macedonia, and became a mother, she brought the firstborn child, according to the laws of Paul, to the God whom he desired, C and handed the girl over to the holy company of pious virgins. If, therefore, to give a portion of one’s property to God is of great merit for a soul that loves God, how could the praises of this great and holy woman not exceed every excess of human commendation—she who consecrated to God not some portion of her fortunes or anything of that sort, but the greatest of all things, the offspring of her own womb? Thus, as I said, she attended only to God and to the things of God, and extended the longing of her soul to Him alone, and directed all her affairs according to His will. Thus she showed marriage D to be honorable and holy and undefiled, according to the voice of Paul, having dedicated it wholly and completely to God.
CAPUT II. The Monastic Life and Virtues of Saint Theodora.
§ 8. But after her husband had departed from among men, she immediately offered to God not her daughter, nor anything extraneous, but herself—a living sacrifice.
A She became holy, well-pleasing, although she had been no less devoted to God before; she joined herself to her daughter, cut her hair, and gave herself wholly over to divine philosophy, rejoicing and congratulating herself on so auspicious a course toward all that is most beautiful, and rendering thanks to God for that admirable providence which He had magnificently displayed toward her; for she had been granted the enjoyment of those things which she had loved from the beginning, and had desired in her prayers, and had prized more than all else. Having thus prepared her soul, and having entered into the struggles of philosophy, she stood to contend not against flesh and blood, but against the principalities and powers of darkness; and she achieved such success, and so overcame her labors, that she struck everyone with B wonder and admiration, as one who had almost surpassed the human condition.
First, she followed humility and love, as the reconcilers of all good things; these she saw to be not only more excellent than all else, but the very foundations of all this divine philosophy; both because the divine commandments so prescribed, and because she was convinced that it was not fitting to build except upon foundations already laid.
§ 9. Since, therefore, she saw these virtues to be so great and of such worth, she undertook the labors of her training so generously, and performed them so rightly, that she failed in none of her actions. For although she was of such a character and so great, and adorned with all graces, and surpassed all in clarity of mind and quickness of understanding, she persuaded herself to voluntarily submit to another, and to entrust her salvation C to her alone. Wherefore she observed even the slightest nods of her mistress, and avoided not even the most menial tasks; but she applied herself to these with as much zeal as another might to more dignified works. She did not merely disdain to go to the market, to sell or to buy the things necessary for the community, but she also bore burdens when necessary, kindled fires, cooked food, and in short performed all the tasks that are permitted to the lowliest. Moreover, that she not only counted herself as nothing, but also called herself a worm and an object of reproach among men, and other such things—how is this not a humility greater than that to which anything else might be worthily compared? And when she was called by the merit of her virtue to the charge of others in the D philosophical arena, and all invited her to this, she did not even allow a mention of the matter to enter the tips of her ears, judging it to be above herself; such was her concern for moderation.
§ 10. And as proof of her love for the Divine, this also is manifest: that she bore all these things for the sake of her love for Him, and not only was she not distressed by these hardships, but she was distressed that the hardships were not greater. And before these, and along with these, she exhausted herself with immoderate labors because of the longing she bore toward Him; and now with fasts and vigils, and at other times...
with all sorts of hardships, she forced her body beyond its measure, and took upon herself willingly all things through which it happens that the body is mastered and the soul is strengthened. Nor is this a less—or perhaps even a greater—proof of that same love: that she was so disposed toward all men as to prefer their benefits entirely to her own. For he who loves his brother loves God also; and neither can exist without the other, but it is necessary that one who converses with God should also converse with his neighbor, and that he who loves men should love God Himself as well. Hence it was her custom to minister to all in all things, and not to suffer anyone to minister to her; and in this she imitated Christ, following in His footsteps.
11. Having thus laid the most excellent virtues as her foundation, she arrived at the pinnacle of others as well, so that she left no room for anyone at all to surpass her even in these. There is nothing better than the four general virtues. B And concerning her prudence, I can say this: if the limit of the greatest wisdom is to know whether those things which are truly exist, and not to be inexperienced regarding them, how did this great saint not surpass every limit of wisdom, possessing such knowledge of things that she not only understood whether individual things were as they appeared to be, but also which of the two [alternatives] it was? She would surrender herself to the more excellent and better things, ready to suffer and do anything for their sake; yet she abstained from others to such a degree that she was not only unwilling to make use of them in any way, but did not even let the thought of them enter her mind. Furthermore, how could it be anything but the most absolute justice that she conducted herself in all things gracefully, as is fitting, and made reason rule over her passions, and made them subject to it; that she strove to suppress her flesh, to bring it into bondage, and to afflict it, while making her mind more subtle and exalting it; and that she finally weighed all things in the balance and scale, and in all that occurred, kept herself unscathed?
12. Therefore, having spoken not of all the prudence and justice that were present in the great one, but only of as much as I was able, I shall proceed C to the others. And indeed, Theodora was not at all lacking in these—I mean temperance and fortitude—but she deserved to be praised and crowned for this reason to such an extent that no one D is able to explain it sufficiently in words. For this truly admirable woman showed herself so strong throughout her whole life, and kept her spirit so exercised, that she was not only superior to all the joyous or sad events that usually happen to men, but seemed throughout to be greater even than the very laws of nature, rightly ordering the labors of the body according to philosophy as much as any other person, and preserving her soul everywhere upright and noble. This is witnessed, first of all, by that singular silence and the constancy she showed in maintaining it; for she did not speak to her daughter for fifteen whole years,
and this while they were both engaged in the same daily pursuits. Furthermore, there was that greatest of all struggles, surpassing every test, which she endured against the inclemency of the elements. In such a way did she subject the flesh to the spirit throughout all things, not only rendering it completely passive, but even bringing it to a state surpassing its natural condition, so that it might follow the dictates of the spirit. While for others it is a desirable thing that their soul not be subject to the desires of the flesh, for Theodora this did not seem sufficient; unless she could also change the nature of the flesh itself and cause it to move spontaneously toward better things, she did not consider it acceptable, nor would she tolerate it in herself.
B 13. Hence she also attained the pinnacle of temperance, which she exercised with great abundance; for who among others has ever achieved such a complete empire of the passions, or so restrained the senses and the necessity arising therefrom, as to neither allow eyes nor ears to attend to matters other than what is proper, but only to open them to those things which are most beneficial, and entirely to rule all the senses according to the dictates of the mind—which we all know to be the mark of supreme temperance? She, having so perfectly put off all carnal affection, and having removed herself so far from the natural inclination toward such things, encountered them spontaneously and voluntarily, being occupied only with love for divine things, clinging fast to their shining light, always conversing in her mind with the beloved God, applying her pure self to the Pure One, and enjoying His goods; and enjoying them, she would in turn redouble the ardor of her love for Him, as if in a cycle.
CHAPTER III.
Synopsis of the praises of S. Theodora and her comparison with other saints.
14. Thus, O divine head! through all the best things, and those deemed great by both God and men, you have arrived at a much greater goal, and concerning all these, you have gained the mastery. For there is not, there is not any kind of virtue in which you did not participate in a superior way, and you alone have gathered up all those things that, for others separately, constitute their ornament. From all these you have fashioned a unique and marvelous substance, a dwelling-place for every virtue; your life, I say, you have set forth as an example to all, preserving it in all its members, from head to foot. For you did not dedicate yourself to the pursuit of virtue now in this way, now in that, nor sometimes less and sometimes more (as is wont to happen to certain others); nor did you cleave to some of its species while neglecting others, or apply yourself to some with more intensity and to others with less. Rather, from your tenderest youth, if I may so speak, from your very earliest beginnings, even to the epilogue of your life and extreme old age, you were a worker of all good things at once, and that in the most excellent of ways, and you alone in all things and above all others gained the first prizes.
15. For not immediately from childhood was the concern for the cultivation of virtue in her soul such, since—after she was bound—
A by marriage and the difficulties arising from it, you relaxed even slightly the tension of your zeal; nor again did you so treat the marriage as to offer everything at once—both children and possessions and wealth and yourself—to God, while languishing in the labors of the religious life; but in order that I may briefly recount in part the things I mentioned just now: who else, being and seeming to all the best in all things, thereafter practiced such humility that no one—even among those conscious of no good in themselves—equaled her? Who so loved God as to pour out even her own soul for the things that were pleasing to Him? Who was so well-disposed in mind as not only to say farewell to the things she ought to have chosen for others, but also to know, beyond all others, how one must pursue these things? B 16. To act in all things with justice, and to regulate the affairs pertaining to her according to what is fitting, so as always to side with what is better, then also to preserve the spirit of a soul in all things, and to show it so unswerving and courageous in all things that she was not only superior to the troubles that befell her in all respects, but also altogether prevailed over the laws of nature—now employing an unusual and extraordinary silence toward her daughter, now enduring such an excess of cold—to whom else did these things belong? Who ever so regulated her senses as to prepare them to submit to the mind, and desiring them to fall far short of these things? Who, C setting this very mind above matter, managed to attend to God alone, and to lay claim to the rays coming from Him, and to revel in them? Who embraced and possessed all the most beautiful things together and in such excess in herself? For she alone, so to speak, has surpassed all the men and women who from the beginning of time have been admired for virtue, contending to imitate some and to excel others. 17. It is evident. We hear that Anna, that great woman, was adorned with many of the most beautiful things, but the greatest of all—and as it were the finishing touch of the rest—was that she had offered Samuel and dedicated him to serve in the divine temple. But Theodora surpasses her by many parasangs, because she consecrated not only her offspring, but money, possessions, and finally herself to God. D Where, then, will you place the struggles of this great saint and the noble and greatest contests which she underwent—which were by no means few—and in which she even surpassed Abraham? For she did not offer her daughter under compulsion by a command of God, as he did, but of her own will and by her own impulse; nor did she receive the divine law on stone tablets that were soon broken, but in a purified soul, presenting to all a pattern of every good, not only announcing the glory of God, but leading all to heaven: in which she also defeated Moses, since, if she did not divide the sea or change the elements (for this does not serve our purpose), she did something much greater than that: she prevailed over the horrific tempests of those things and the trials that resulted from them.
A And I pass over her supernatural silence, and the prodigies that followed it.
18. Having marveled at the endurance of Job in the face of his terrible trials, she surpassed it in such measure as the one—Job—did for a short time, while she accomplished this throughout her entire life; and furthermore, she gave away to the poor, without anyone compelling her, things of which he was unwillingly stripped. She had cultivated the solitude of Elias and the philosophy proper to it, even in the company of many, in such a way that she could say with David: “I am solitary” (Ps. cviii, 8). Although she did not preach the Lamb of God as John did, yet, if anyone imitated his training and accepted it, she became a divine temple; and this, as I at least think, is in no way inferior to the office of preaching. She did not, indeed, travel around the whole world with the apostles, offering salvation to everyone; but by words on occasion, yet much more by her deeds—and by a persuasion drawn from these far more effective than words—leading everyone into the way of salvation, she sent forth B her voice into all the earth, just as they did; and thus, being the greatest of all, she in part most perfectly imitated those who have excelled and who have great power with God, while in part she surpassed them in the virtues I have mentioned. For she also emulated the Lord himself, being crucified and buried with him, so that she might also rise with him into glory and, being glorified together with him, might reign with him.
19. She, therefore, having thus appeared as an immense gift of God to men, and having clearly demonstrated the standard of virtue, showed them—as was fitting—by her deeds what sort of person he who is made according to the divine image ought to be. For since she did not derive the beginning of her generation from the earth, nor did she have her lineage from thence, but from God—and for that reason she desired God and the things of Olympus, and C sought to be purely liberated from earthly things, which she had also previously practiced no less, and to take hold of things above which belong to her—consequently, she ended her life in a very deep and most rich old age, and now she exists in the heavens, abiding with the purest, clearest, and thrice-radiant light; and having become wholly light, thanks to the rays flowing from it, she gives clear demonstrations of that blessedness of hers, showing her own divine body to be a fountain of myrrh.
20. But O you who are the best of all through everything, and who not only surpassed everyone in all ways, but also adorned them in various ways! O you who appeared to all as a standard and model of ascetic labors, and for this reason became a worthy dwelling-place of the Trinity, and [the desire] of its...