Oration 28

illumination, divided in a unified way ^A and joined in a divided way, which is a marvelous thing.

II. But for me, as I eagerly ascend the mountain—or, to speak more truly, as I both desire and tremble to ascend, the former out of hope, the latter out of weakness—in order that I may enter within the cloud and have communion with God (for God commands this): if anyone is an Aaron, let him ascend with me, and let him stand near, even if he must remain outside the cloud, accepting this as right and good. If anyone is a Nadab or an Abiud or one of the elders, let him ascend, but let him stand further off, according to the measure of his purification. But if anyone is of the common people and unworthy of such a height and contemplation, if he is completely unclean and profane, let him not approach at all, for that is not without danger. If, however, he has at least been purified for the space of an hour, let him remain below and listen only to the voice and the trumpet, that is, the bare words of piety; and let him behold the mountain surrounded by smoke and flashing with light, striking with terror and awe at the same time those who are not able to ascend. ^B But if anyone is an evil and savage beast, and entirely incapable of discussion, contemplation, and theology, let him not skulk in the brush with malice and ill-will, so that he may seize upon some doctrine or word, leaping out suddenly to tear the sound words with his insolence; rather, let him stand still further away and depart from the mountain, or else he shall be stoned and crushed and perish miserably, for he is evil. For stones to those who are beast-like men are true and solid words. ^C Whether he be a leopard, let him die along with his varied spots; or a lion, seizing and roaring and seeking whom of our souls or words he may devour; or a swine, trampling the excellent and pellucid pearls of the truth; or an Arabian and alien wolf, or one even sharper than these in sophisms and captious disputations; or a fox—that is, a deceitful and faithless soul, one that is different at different times, conforming itself to the circumstances and needs, which dead and rotting bodies nourish, or small vineyards, when it cannot aspire to the high ones; or finally any other creature of raw-flesh-eating nature ^D and rejected by the law's decree and not clean for food and enjoyment. For the Word wishes to depart from these, and thus to be inscribed on solid and stony tablets, and on these from both sides, because of both what is manifest in the law and what is hidden—the one for the many

who stay at the foot, and the other for the few who reach the heights.

^B III. But what has happened to me, O friends and fellow-mystics and fellow-lovers of the truth? I was running, as it were, to reach God, and thus I went up the mountain and passed through the cloud, entering within away from matter and material things, and, so far as I was able, I gathered myself into myself. But when I looked, with difficulty I saw the back parts of God, and this was only by being covered by the rock, the Word that for our sake was made flesh. And looking out a little, I did not behold the first and pure nature, known to itself—I mean the Trinity—and all that remains inside the first veil and is covered by the cherubim, but only the last things that reach even to us. And this is, so far as I can know it, the majesty that shines in created things and in those things brought forth and governed by Him, or, as the divine David calls it, ^C magnificence. For these are the back parts of God, those traces of Him that exist after Him, just as the shadows and reflections of the sun in water represent the sun to weak eyes, since one cannot gaze directly at it, as it overcomes the senses with the purity of its light. So then shall you theologize, even if you are a Moses and a god to Pharaoh, even if you reach to the third heaven, according to Paul, and hear ineffable words; even if you be greater than those, having been deemed worthy of an angelic or archangelic standing and order. For even if everything be heavenly, or even supercelestial, and much higher in nature than we are, and nearer to God, it still stands as far removed from God and from the perfect apprehension of Him as it outstrips our own composite, humble, and earth-bound mixture.

^D IV. We must therefore begin again in this way: To conceive of God is difficult; but to express Him is impossible, as one of the theologians among the Greeks once philosophized—not without skill, in my judgment, so that by affirming that He is difficult to conceive, he might foster the opinion that he had mastered Him by cognition, and by saying that He cannot be expressed in any words, he might act to keep his own ignorance from being brought to light and convicted. But I, for my part, believe that one should rather say that to express Him is impossible, as my own argument has shown; but to conceive Him is even more impossible. For that which has been conceived might perhaps be declared by speech, if not clearly, at least in a dim way—provided one’s ears are not entirely corrupted and one’s understanding dull.

^A To grasp so great a thing by the intellect is entirely impossible and unattainable, not only for those who are debased and looking downwards, but even for those who are extremely lofty and lovers of God; indeed, for every created nature, and for those to whom this darkness and this thick flesh is an obstacle to the understanding of the Truth. I do not know, moreover, whether it is not also denied to the higher and intellectual natures; or whether, because they are more closely joined to God and shine with that entire splendor, they might perhaps be able to discern—if not entirely, then certainly more perfectly and clearly than we, and some more than others, according to the proportion of their order, whether more abundantly or more sparingly.

V. But let this be the end of that matter. ^B As far as we are concerned, it is not merely the peace of God that surpasses all mind and perception, nor whatever is hidden in divine promises for those who have cultivated justice—things which cannot be seen by the eyes, nor heard by the ears, nor thought of or perceived by the mind, except in a very slight degree—nor even the exact and absolute knowledge of created things (for you should not doubt that you hold only the shadows of these, when you hear Scripture speaking in this way: "I will see the heavens, the works of your fingers, the moon and the stars" [Ps. VIII, 4], and the firm and stable reason that is in them, as if not seeing them now, but to be seen at some time): but much more so, that nature which is higher than these, and from which these have drawn their origin, surpasses all grasp and comprehension. I do not wish these words to be taken as if I were saying that it cannot be perceived *that* God is, but rather *what* and *of what sort* He is. For our preaching is not empty, nor is our faith vain [I Cor. XV, 14]; nor is this what we are maintaining (lest you again twist what we have honestly and candidly said into an argument for impiety and slander, and arrogantly insult us for confessing our ignorance). For it makes a very great difference whether you are firmly persuaded that something exists, or whether you have discovered what that thing actually is. ^C

VI. For that God exists, and is a certain primordial Cause who has created and preserves all things, both our eyes themselves and the natural law teach us: the former, while they fix their gaze upon things that fall into view, and perceive them to be beautifully fixed and stable, and moving/revolving in an unwavering way, if I may so speak; the latter, while by means of things subjected to the eyes and arranged in right order, it surely attains by reasoning to the Author of them. For how could this whole mass of things have ever been produced, or how could it persist, unless God had created and sustained all things? For when someone sees a cithara most beautifully fashioned, and its harmony and good order, or of the cithara-player himself

^A, he will intuit and run back in his mind to the maker and player, even if he happens not to know him by sight. In the same way, for us, the One who fashioned, moved, and sustains the things that have been fashioned is manifest, even if He is not comprehended by the mind. And an individual is exceedingly senseless and stupid if he does not willingly progress thus far and insist upon the vestiges of natural demonstrations; and so far as to persuade himself that not even that which we conceive by some image of the mind, or have formulated, or described after a fashion with the brush of speech, is God. ^B But if anyone ever attained to a conception of Him to any degree, what is the proof? Who has arrived at the limit of wisdom? Who has ever been deemed worthy of such a gift? Who has so opened the mouth of his mind and drawn in the Spirit, so that by the Spirit—who searches and knows all things, and even the deep things of God—he might comprehend God and no longer have need of what is in front of him, already possessing the final object of desire and that toward which all the life and thought of sublime men strives?

^C VII. And what, pray, will you suppose the Divine to be, if you trust in all methods of reason? Or to what point will this argument carry you, if it be examined more accurately: I appeal to you, who claim for yourself the primacy of philosophy and theology and boast of things unmeasured? Is He a body? And how is He unlimited, and undefined, and without shape, and intangible, and invisible? Or are these things also bodies? Oh, the license! For this is not the nature of bodies. Is He a body, then, but not these things? Oh, the thickness! So that in nothing does the Divine excel us. For how is He venerable if He is circumscribed? Or how will He avoid being composed of elements and resolving back into them again, or even being dissolved altogether? For composition is the beginning of conflict; conflict, of separation; and this, of dissolution; but dissolution is altogether alien to God, and to the first nature. ^D Therefore, there is no separation, that there may be no dissolution; nor conflict, that there may be no separation; nor composition, that there may be no conflict; and for this reason, not even a body, that there may be no composition. Rising from the last things back to the first, the argument thus comes to a halt.

VIII. But how will that which acts through all things and fills all things—God—be preserved, according to the saying, "Do I not fill heaven and earth?" says the Lord; and, "The Spirit of the Lord has filled the world," if He is in one part circumscribing and in another circumscribed? For either He will pass through the void of the universe, and all things will turn into

^A a state where God is insulted, and becoming a body, He lacks what He has made; or the body will be in bodies, which is impossible; or it will be interwoven and set against them, just as liquids are mixed together, and it will cut some things and be cut by others, which is even more absurd and old-wive’s-tale-like than the atoms of the Epicureans. And thus our discourse will collapse without having a body or any solidity, in the way we attempt to attribute a body to God. But if they contend that He is a body exempt from matter—if, indeed, that "fifth essence," as some have supposed, and which rotates in a circle, be a body of some sort, exempt from matter, and even, if it pleases them so to call it, incorporeal—since they are so adept in speaking ^B that they turn themselves in every direction at will and fashion whatever they choose, I will not for the present contend with them about this. But in what class, pray, will He be among those things which are moved and agitated? To say nothing of how grave an insult it is to assert that the Creator is moved by the same motion as the things created by Him, and that He, by whose power and will all things are governed—if they are even going to grant this—is himself swayed and carried about with them in the same manner? I ask also, what is it that moves this universe? And what is it that in turn moves that, and again by what is that moved? And so I will proceed to infinity. How, moreover, can He not be in a place, if He is indeed being carried and moved? If they declare that God is some other body besides that ^C fifth one—if, for instance, an angelic one—whence will they prove that angels consist of a body, and of what sort of body? And how much, if the matter stands so, will God excel the angel whom He uses as a minister? If they say that such a body is infinitely more sublime, again a train of reasoning devoid of sense will be introduced, and a gulf of trifles so deep that a foot can nowhere find a place to stand.

IX. And hence it is clear that God is not a body. For not even yet has anyone of those who are divinely inspired either said this or approved of it when said by others, nor is such doctrine of our fold. It remains, therefore, that we consider God to be incorporeal. But, however we may call Him incorporeal, this does not yet embrace and declare His nature and essence, just as neither "unbegotten," ^D nor "without beginning," that is, without origin, nor "immutable," nor "incorruptible," nor whatever is said about God or to be in God. For what to Him who truly is, is according to nature and

IX. God is not a body. That God is incorporeal is not yet a perfect definition of His essence; for not even the negative terms express what He is.

^A And it yet remains to continue to philosophize and to investigate further in regard to Him who truly possesses the mind of God, and who is more perfect in contemplation. For just as it is not enough, in order to express and indicate the subject itself, to say only that a thing is body, or born, or this or that which accompanies these things—but one must also say what the subject thing itself is, if we wish to represent fully and sufficiently that which is being thought (for that which we declare to be corporeal, generated, and corruptible could be a man, or an ox, or a horse, and not necessarily incorruptible, and all the other things that are predicated of God, or about God)—so too, he who would judge that the nature of God must be more curiously investigated will not rest content with saying what God is not; rather, this too must be added, that he explain what He is. And this all the more, because it is less difficult to grasp one thing in the mind than to remove all things individually by negation, so that by rejecting what He is not, and by establishing what He is, that which we think may be comprehended. But he who says what things He is not, while remaining silent about what He is, does something similar to one who, when asked how much twice five is, were to reply that it is neither two, nor three, nor four, nor five, nor twenty, nor thirty, nor any, to summarize, of those within the decade or the decimal numbers—but does not say that it is ten, nor fix the mind of the questioner upon the thing sought. For it is much easier and more concise to declare whatever is not, from the fact of what it is, than to demonstrate what it is by the removal of what is not; just as I think is clear to everyone.

^B X. Since, therefore, it is ascertained by us that the Divine is incorporeal, let us inquire a little further. Is He nowhere, or is He somewhere? For if He is nowhere, perhaps someone of those who take great pleasure in the subtlety of inquiry and disputation will ask how He can even be. For if that which is not, is nowhere, then that which is nowhere, perhaps is not even. But if you say that He is somewhere, then, since He exists, He must be either in the universe or above the universe. But if in the universe, He is either in some part of it, or everywhere. And if in some part, He will be circumscribed by a smaller part than that part. If [He is] everywhere, ^C He will be circumscribed by a larger and other many, I mean, the contained by the container. If the whole is to be contained by the whole, there will be no place free from circumscription. These [are the consequences], if [He is] in the universe. And what of the time before the universe came to be? For this too is no small cause for perplexity. But if He is above the universe, was there nothing that separated Him from the universe? And where is that which is above this? And how was the surpassing and the surpassed conceived, when there was no boundary to divide and define these things? ^D Or must there necessarily be a middle, and that by which the whole is bounded, and that which is above the

^A whole is separated, as by a limit? And what else would this be but a place, which we have already excluded? For I do not yet mention that it is absolutely impossible for God to be circumscribed if He can be grasped by the mind and thought. For comprehension itself is one kind of circumscription. ^B XI. Why then have I discussed these things, perhaps more curiously than the ears of the multitude can bear, and contrary to the current style of discourse (which, having despised and counted as nothing the simple and guileless treatment of divine matters, has introduced a crafty and involved style of speaking; so that, as the tree is known by its fruits, this black and dark spirit, the bringer of such dogmas, might be recognized by this mist of disputation)? For this has not been done by me so that I myself might appear to say marvelous things, or seem of excessive wisdom by tying knots and untying things held fast—which was indeed the great miracle of Daniel—but that I might clarify what my discourse has from the beginning set out to say. And what was this? That the divine is not to be grasped by human reasoning, nor is it to be imagined in its entirety just as it is; and this, neither out of envy (for envy is far from the divine nature, which is free from passion, and alone good, and sovereign, and especially toward those things which, of all that it has created, it holds in the highest value. ^C For what is closer to the Word and in a higher rank than those which have received reason and the faculty of speech? Since even this very fact, that they have been created, is a proof of a certain supreme divine goodness), nor to add any honor and glory to Him who is full, so that, by the fact that mortals cannot reach the knowledge of Him, a greater honor and veneration might redound to Him. For that is entirely sophistic and alien, I will not say to God, but even to a man of moderate goodness and candor, and who is conscious of any inherent honesty, to arrogate to himself the supremacy by preventing others from attaining it. ^D XII. But whether there are other causes for this, let those see who are closer to God and more intimately joined to Him, and who are examiners and contemplators of His unsearchable judgments, if indeed any are raised to such a magnitude of virtue, and are walking in the footprints of the abyss, as the proverb has it. As much, however, as we, who measure difficult objects of contemplation with small measures, can achieve by conjecture, three reasons for this may be brought forward. The first, perhaps, is that, on account of the ease of attainment, the easy...

^A loss of an acquired thing might be a loss. For it generally happens that what is not attained without labor and industry is held more firmly; whereas that which is procured without any effort very quickly becomes cheap and is cast aside, as it is something that can be recovered; and thus, that not-obvious beneficence becomes a benefit, at least for those who are prudent. The second reason is to prevent the same thing from happening to us as happened to Lucifer when he fell—that is, that we, having been drenched in all that brilliance, should not raise up our neck against the Lord Almighty and, on account of conceit, fall with the most wretched and calamitous fall of all. The final reason is that those who have cleansed themselves here from the stain of vices and wait with patient souls for the object of their longing might have something more abundant as a reward for their industry and illustrious life. For this reason, this corporeal fog is placed between us and God, just like that cloud ^B once between the Egyptians and the Hebrews. And perhaps that Scripture points to this: He made darkness his hiding-place, which is our density, by which it comes about that very few, and those but little, look through. But let those to whom this is a matter of study and care philosophize more accurately and advance by the most lofty consideration regarding this. For us, at any rate, who are held bound by the chains of the earth, as I may use the words of the divine Jeremiah, and are clothed in this thick ^C little body, it is clear that, just as it is impossible to overleap one's own shadow, and for one who is in too much of a hurry (for it always retreats as much as it is overtaken), or for the sight to approach visible objects without a medium of light and air, or for the nature of fish to slide out of the waters—so it is impossible for those in a body, without corporeal things, to be entirely with the things that are perceived by the mind. For our mind is always hindered by something of our own, even if it has as much as possible separated itself from visible things and, having become by itself, attempts to approach its kindred and invisible things. You will know this in the following way.

XIII. The Divine Names

XIII. Are not spirit, and fire, and light, and love, and wisdom, and justice, and mind, and word, and such like ^D designations of that first nature? What then? Will you conceive of a spirit that is without motion and diffusion? Or fire that lacks matter, and upward motion, and its own proper color and form? Or light not mingled with air, and separated from the one that in a sense begets and illumines it? And what kind of mind? Not the one that is in another, and whose movements are thoughts, either resting or being projected? And what kind of word besides the one that rests in us, or is poured forth? For I hesitate to say, is dissolved. And if wisdom, what kind besides the habit and that which is in the contemplations, whether divine or human? And justice and love, are they not praised as dispositions

^A (the one opposed to injustice, the other to hatred), now intensifying and now relaxing; now approaching and now receding; and altogether affecting and changing us, just as colors do? Or should we depart from these, and contemplate the Divinity Itself by Itself, as far as is possible, gathering some partial apprehension from images? What then is this contrivance, which is seemingly forged from these things, and yet is not these things? Or how can that which is one, and by its own nature devoid of composition, and not to be adumbrated by any images of things, be perfectly all these things and each one of them? Thus our mind languishes and faints, while it strives to depart from corporeal and sensible things and be joined to the incorporeal without the intervention of any thing, as long as it contemplates with its own infirmity those things that surpass its powers. For every rational nature desires God, and that First Cause; but to grasp Him, it is unable, for the reasons I have mentioned. And languishing with longing, and, as it were, eagerly ^B hastening, and not bearing the loss, it initiates a "second navigation," as they say: either to turn the eyes toward things seen and to make some one of them God, knowing it ill—(for what is there among visible things, and how much is it, that is more sublime and godlike than the one who sees, so that the one should be the worshiper and the other the worshiped?)—or, through the beauty of visible things and their order, to gain knowledge of God, and to use the eyes as a guide to those things that are beyond sight, rather than to suffer the loss of God through the magnificence of the things seen.

XIV.

and for the defense and patronage of such an imposture, have adopted certain myths.

XV. Even the most depraved have considered their very vices and foul passions to be gods, or at least worshipped them under the name of gods—that is to say, anger, murder, lust, drunkenness, and other things of that kind—having found no just or honorable excuse for their own sins. Some they left on earth, some they hid beneath the earth—this much at least with some sense—and some they raised into heaven. O ridiculous partition of the inheritance! Then, for the sake of the liberty and license of error, they assigned to every figment some name of god or demon, and furthermore set up statues—magnificent and excellent ones—so that by their very costliness they might ensnare the minds of the vulgar. To these, through blood and the savor of flesh, and some even through deeds that are disgraceful in the extreme—namely, frenzies and murders—they thought that such divinities were to be righteously worshipped; for it was fitting that such honors be held for such gods. Some even proceeded to such a pitch of madness that they brought humiliation upon themselves by worshipping birds, quadrupeds, and reptiles—and what is more, the most shameful and ridiculous of these—and to them they attributed the glory of God, so that it is not easy to determine which are more to be despised: those who worshipped, or those who were worshipped. Perhaps, however, they were deserving of much greater contempt and ignominy who worshipped such things, since, though endowed with a rational nature and having received the grace of God, they preferred the worse to the better. And this was the craftiness and imposture of that wicked one, abusing a good thing for evil, as are most of his wily machinations. For when he had received their desire wandering in the search for God, that he might divert the sovereignty to himself and steal away their longing—like one leading by the hand a blind man desiring a certain path—he cast them headlong, some here and some there, and scattered them into one single abyss of death and destruction.

XVI. So much for them. But as for us, the Logos—having received us as we are, desiring God and not enduring to be without a leader or government—and then meeting with those things which are seen, and encountering those which are from the beginning, neither

^A did he even then fix his step. For it was not reasonable to give the supremacy to those things which, as far as the senses are concerned, are on an equal footing with ourselves. Rather, by their help and assistance, he leads us to that which is above them, by whose benefit these things exist. For what in the world is it that set in order the heavenly and the earthly things, and those which are carried through the air, and those upon the water; or rather, those which are prior to these: heaven, and earth, and air, and the nature of water? Who mixed these and separated them? What is the mutual fellowship, the natural kinship, and the harmony of these things? For I approve of him who said—even if he be an alien to our religion—"Who brought movement to these things, and guides them in an unceasing and unimpeded course?" Is it not the artificer of them, and he who endued all things with that reason by which the universe is carried and governed? Who, then, is the artificer of these? Is it not he who created them and brought them into being? For surely such power and faculty cannot be ascribed to chance and fortune. For even if we grant that things came into existence by chance, to whom is their constitution and arrangement to be attributed? And even if we concede this too, if you like, to chance, whose, I ask, would it be to maintain and preserve these things according to the laws by which they were first created? Someone else's, or chance's? Someone else's, surely, not chance's. And what else could this be but God? Thus, the reason which is from God, and inborn in all things, and the first law implanted in our breasts and bound up with all mortals, led us from the things which are seen to God. And so, ^B let us begin again.

XVII. What God is in his nature and essence, no man has ever yet found, nor can he find. Whether he will ever find it, let him who wishes seek and explore. In my opinion, he will find it then, when this God-like and divine element—I mean our mind and reason—is conjoined to its kindred nature, and the image has ascended to the archetype ^C whose desire it now feels. And this seems to me to be the primary head of philosophy, namely, that we shall at some time know as much as we have been known. But in this mortal life, whatever reaches us is nothing other than a small rivulet, and as it were a small ray of a great light. Therefore, if anyone has known God, or has been witnessed to have known him, he has known him only as much as one who has not been equally illuminated by another may appear more luminous; and the exceeding, perfect ^D

knowledge is thought to be such, not when weighed against the truth of the thing itself, but measured by the capacity and faculty of others.

^B XVIII. For this reason Enos indeed had hope that he might invoke the Lord; hope was the success, and this not of knowledge, but of invocation. Now Enoch was indeed translated, yet it is not yet clear whether he had grasped or would grasp the nature of God. As for Noah, his righteousness was good, he who was judged worthy to preserve the whole world from the waters, or the seeds of the world, escaping the flood in a small wooden vessel; from this he gained only the praise that he was acceptable and pleasing to God. Furthermore, the great patriarch Abraham was justified by faith, and he offers an unusual sacrifice, the antitype of the great one; he did not see God as God, but he fed him as a man, and was praised for having reverenced him as much as he could grasp. And Jacob imagined a certain high ladder, and the ascent of angels, and he anoints a pillar mystically (perhaps so that he might indicate the stone anointed for our sake), and he gives the name of "House of God" to a certain place in honor of the one who appeared; he struggles against God as if against a man—or what, after all, is this struggle of God against man? Or perhaps it is the testing of human virtue against God, and he bears on his body the symbols of the struggle, showing the defeat of the generated nature, and receives as a prize of piety the change of his name, being renamed from Jacob to Israel, that great and precious name. But as for that, neither he himself, nor anyone greater than him down to this day among the twelve tribes of which he was the father, could boast or magnificently proclaim that he had contained the whole nature or vision of God.

^C XIX. And to Elijah, neither a violent wind, nor fire, nor an earthquake, as you hear in the history, but a certain thin breeze adumbrated the presence of God; and even these did not delineate his nature. To which Elijah? He whom even a chariot of fire leads up to heaven, signifying, as I think, a certain singular virtue of man, and one exceeding human stature. What? Do not that judge Manoah, and Peter the disciple later, fill you with wonder? The one could not even bear the sight of God as he appeared through an image, and for this reason said, "We have perished, O woman, we have seen God," as if he were not capable of being contained by men, nor was a divine phantasm, let alone his nature; while the other...

^A refused to admit even the visible Christ into his boat, and would send him away. And this is all the more wonderful, considering that the same man surpassed others in the ardor of his soul for the knowledge of Christ, and for this reason was called blessed, and was entrusted with the greatest things. Why need I mention Isaiah and Ezekiel, the observer of the greatest things, and the rest of the prophets? Of these, one ^B saw the Lord Sabaoth sitting upon a throne of glory, surrounded and praised and covered by the six-winged seraphim, and himself being purged by the coal and prepared for the prophetic office. The other describes the vehicle of God, that is, the cherubim, and a throne higher than them, and above that a firmament, and Him who in the firmament presented himself as capable of being seen, and certain voices, and impulses, and actions—and this, whether it was some daytime spectrum visible only to the holiest men, or a truthful vision of the night, or a configuration of the governing faculty adapted to future events as though they were present, or some other ineffable type of prophecy, I cannot say; but the God of the prophets knows, as do those who are moved by such inspirations. But neither these men of whom I speak, nor anyone else of the same order, stood in the substance and essence of the Lord, as Scripture says, nor did he see or declare or manifest the nature of God.

XX. ^C But if it had been permitted to Paul to divulge to mortals those things which the third heaven, and the progress, or ascent, or assumption even unto it, exhibited to him, perhaps we would have known something more about God, if indeed this were the reason for the mystery of his being caught up. But since it was unlawful for him to proclaim these things to the common people, let us act accordingly, so as to commit them to silence. And let us hear only this that Paul says: "We know in part, and we prophesy in part." He who is by no means unskilled in knowledge, he who threatened to give proof of Christ speaking in him, that great champion and teacher of the truth, does not hesitate ^D to confess these and similar things. And for this reason he establishes that all human and earthly knowledge is nothing above mirrors and enigmas, inasmuch as it stands in the small reflections of the truth. But if I should seem to some, in investigating such matters, to be excessively pedantic and curious, it was perhaps not other things, but these, that [Paul] was unable even now to endure

^A to be carried and revealed; and those which the world itself would not be able to contain — things which John, the forerunner of the Word, that great voice of the truth, was defining.

XXI. But since every truth and every argument is attended by a great deal of difficulty and obscurity, and we seek to accomplish great things as if with a small tool—that is, hunting for the knowledge of beings by the aid of human wisdom, and approaching ^B the intelligible realm with the senses, or not without the senses, by which we are tossed and led astray, and we do not have the ability to encounter things by using the bare mind on bare things, so as to approach the truth more closely and have the mind shaped by direct graspings—the discourse concerning God, however, is the more perfect it is, the more difficult it is, and it possesses more complexities and more laborious solutions. For every objection, even ^C if it be the very slightest, checks and hinders the course of the argument, and interrupts its forward movement, just as those who suddenly pull back with the reins the horses that are speeding along, and turn them backward by the unexpectedness of the jolt. Thus Solomon, ^D who philosophized on excessive matters, surpassing all who came before him and those of his own time, to whom the breadth of heart was a gift of God, and the nature of whose contemplation was more abundant than the sand—the more he penetrates into the depths, the more he turns dizzy, and he makes it a final sort of wisdom to find how much of it escaped him. Paul also attempts to attain it—I do not yet say the nature of God, for he knew that this was wholly impossible—but only the judgments of God. But since he finds no exit, nor any resting place for his ascent, nor any clear end in which the deep searching of his mind might terminate, as there is always some remainder that keeps revealing itself: O the wonder (that I myself might be moved by the same feeling)! he circumscribes his speech with admiration, and calls such things the riches and depth of God, and confesses that the judgments of God are incomprehensible, using almost the same words as David, who at one time names the judgments of God a great abyss, the base of which cannot be grasped by measure or sense, and at another time says that knowledge is too wonderful for him, and [at another], concerning his own composition, that he has been strengthened more than [is possible by] his own power and grasp.

^B XXII. For, to leave other things aside, he says, and to look at myself and the whole of human nature and its framework, what is this mixture of ours? What is the motion? How is the immortal conjoined with the mortal? How do I flow downward, and am carried upward? How is the soul circumscribed? How does it impart life, and become a participant in passion? How is the mind both circumscribed and uncircumscribed, remaining within us, and traversing all things with the speed of impulse and flow? How is it received through speech and communicated, and travels through the air, and enters in with the things themselves? How does it have intimacy with the senses, and yet again gathers itself apart from the senses? And, to speak of what are earlier, what is the first formation and constitution of us in the workshop of nature? And what is the final conformation and perfection? What is the appetite for food and its distribution? Who led us spontaneously to those first fountains and causes of life? How is the body nourished by food, but the mind, on the contrary, by speech and doctrine? What is that power of nature and mutual affection ^C between parents and children, such that they are held together as if by some love-potion? How are the species firm and stable, and yet distinct from one another by marks, whose properties, being so numerous, we cannot attain? How is the same living being mortal and immortal at once; mortal indeed by reason of migration, but immortal by reason of procreation? For as one thing is withdrawn by death, so again another is substituted for it, not otherwise than in the tract of a river, which is simultaneously flowing and stable. You could still recount many things about the limbs and parts of man, and about their mutual harmony; for they are joined together both for elegance and for utility by the law and reason of nature, and ^D likewise hold together and are held apart, are prominent and are obscured, are unified and are divided, containing and contained by the law and reason of nature. Many things [come to mind] concerning voices and hearings; how some are carried through the vocal organs, while others receive them, intermingling with one another through the stroke and impression of the air in between. Many things [come to mind] concerning vision, ineffably communicating with those things that are visible, and by...

are distinguished, excel in dignity, and are inferior; are united and are distracted; contain and are contained. Much also about voices and hearing: namely how these are carried through vocal instruments, and how this [ear] receives them, and through the percussion and impression of the intermediate air they are joined together. Much also concerning the eyes, which in some ineffable way have commerce with those things which we behold, and by will alone, are moved together with it, and in the same way are affected with the mind. For with equal speed, these are joined to intelligible things, and those to visible things. Much, moreover, concerning the remaining senses, which are as it were destined for receiving external things, and are not perceived by reason. Much, finally, concerning that rest which we enjoy in sleep, and the figments of dreams, concerning memory and recollection, concerning reason, and anger, and desire, and the rest—to embrace it in one word—by which this little world, that is, man, is governed.

^B XXIII. Do you wish that I should also enumerate the differences of other animals, by which they differ both from us and from one another, their natures also, and births, and rearings, and regions, and habits, and as it were their civil offices? How some are gregarious, others solitary? Some fed on herbs, others on flesh? Some are fierce and cruel, others tame? Some are accustomed to associate with humans and are fed, others are untamed and free? Some approach more closely to reason and instruction, others are utterly irrational and most ignorant? Some are endowed with more senses, others with fewer? Some lack motion, others possess the faculty of walking? Some are very swift, others very slow? Some excel in magnitude and beauty, or in one of these, while others are tiny, or most deformed, or labor under both defects? Some are vigorous, others feeble? Some repel injury with open attack, others are suspicious and insidious? Some are cautious, others incautious? Some flourish in the praise of industry and managing household affairs, others are utterly slothful and improvident? And what should have been said first, how does it come to pass that some crawl on the ground, while others have an upright body? Some rest in a fixed abode, others live in both elements? Some are fond of elegance, others reject all cultivation? Some are mated, others abhor mating? Some are chaste, others given to lust? Some are most prolific, others insufficiently so? Some of long life, others short? My discourse will fail if I attempt to pursue everything in detail.

^D XXIV. Come, consider for me also the nature of fish, sliding through the waters, and as it were flying through the liquid element, so to speak, and safely breathing their own air, but in danger in ours, just as we are accustomed to be in the waters; and their habits, and affections, and matings, and generations, and magnitudes, and beauties, and their certain habitations and wanderings, gatherings and withdrawals, and properties similar to terrestrial animals, and there are some whose communities and properties are opposites, both in shapes and names.

Consider also for me ^A the flocks of birds, and their varieties in shape and color, both of the mute and of the songbirds. What is the rationale for their singing, and from whom does it come? Who gave to the cicada the lyre on its breast, and the songs and trills upon the branches, when they are stirred by the sun to perform their midday music, and fill the groves with sound, and accompany the traveler with their calls? Who joined the song to the swan, at the time when it spreads its wings to the breezes and makes its whistling sound like a melody? I omit the forced calls and whatever arts men ingeniously devise against the truth. How is it that the arrogant and Median bird, the peacock—so fond of beauty and status—is such that (for it is conscious of its own beauty) when it sees someone approaching, or the females, as they say, it beautifies itself, lifting its neck, and spreading its golden and star-spangled feathers in a circle, and ^B parades its beauty for its lovers, with a proud gait? The divine Scripture itself admires the wisdom of women in weaving, saying: "Who gave to women wisdom of weaving and the knowledge of embroidery?" This is the mark of a rational creature, one endowed with extraordinary wisdom, and one that reaches even unto the heavens.

XXV. But you for your part, admire also the natural ^C intelligence of 25 irrational creatures, and explain the reasons if you can. How do birds fashion nests in rocks, and trees, and eaves—nests no less elegant than they are safe, and suitable for the rearing of their young? Whence have the bees and the spiders such a love of labor and craftsmanship, so that the former weave their honeycombs, holding them together by means of hexagonal tubes that correspond to one another from opposite sides, and by an intermediate partition, and by supports woven alternately with right-angled sides, they prop up their dwelling, and this within such dark hives and invisible constructions? And how do the latter, conversely, by means of such thin and almost airy threads, stretched out in manifold ways, weave intricate webs (and that too from such meager beginnings, that they can hardly be perceived by the keenest human eyesight), which serve them both as an excellent dwelling and as a snare for weaker creatures, for the sake of ^D procuring food? What Euclid imitated these things, philosophizing with lines that were not…

^A existing, and sweating with anxious labor in his demonstrations? What Palamedes, who is said to have learned even the art of drawing up a battle line, and movements and figures, from no other teachers than cranes, when he observed them moving in order and with a varied kind of flight? Who are the Phidiases, and Zeuxises, and Polygnotuses, and some Parrhasiuses and Aglaophontes, who knew how to paint and mold beauties to an excessive degree? What Gnossian ^B dance of Daedalus, harmonic and fashioned in an excess of beauty for the sake of a maiden? Or the Cretan labyrinth, difficult to traverse and hard to wind through, to speak poetically, and often 57 crossing itself by the deceits of art? I pass over the store-houses of ants and their overseers, and the storing up of food at the appropriate time, and all the other things we have known to be recorded concerning their paths and leaders, and the order they maintain in their works.

XXVI. If you are able to grasp the theory of these things, and have understood the wisdom concerning them, consider also the diversity of plants, even to the artfulness in the leaves, which is at once most pleasant ^C to the eyes and most useful in its fruits. Consider for me also the variety and abundance of fruits, and especially the best of those that are most necessary. And consider for me the powers of roots, and juices, and flowers, and scents, not only most pleasant, but also suitable for health, and the graces and qualities of colors, and furthermore the preciousness and transparency of gems; since nature has set before you everything, as at a common banquet, both what is necessary and what is for enjoyment; so that, if nothing else, from the benefits by which you are served, you may recognize God, and through your need, may become wiser ^D of yourself. From there, traverse for me the breadth and length of the earth, the common mother of all, and the bays of the sea, connected both to each other and to the land, and the beauties of the groves, and the rivers, and the springs, both abundant and ever-flowing, not only of cold and potable waters, and those upon the earth, but also such as flow under the earth and run through certain caverns, then being forced out by a violent breath and rebounding,

^A afterward, through the intensity of the struggle and the resistance, becoming heated, and where chance directs, gradually erupting, and from this, in most places on earth, they provide us with the use of hot baths, and with this contrary quality, a free and spontaneous medicine. Tell me, I beseech you, how and whence are these? What is this great and artless texture? For they do not deserve less praise for the mutual relationship ^B which they have with one another, than if each were considered separately. How did the solid and immovable earth come to stand? What does it have for a vehicle? By what means is it supported? And what, in turn, supports that support? For reason finds nothing upon which it might rest, if you except the divine will. And how is it that, part of it rising into the peaks of mountains, and part settling into plains—and this in a varied and manifold way, and finally shifting by gradual alternations—it is both more abundant for human uses, and more delightful by its very variety? And how is it that it is partly divided into dwellings, and partly left uncultivated and uninhabitable, as much indeed as the highest mountains cut off from it, and differently divided and extended towards some other end of the world, it declares the magnificence of the divine workmanship by a most luminous argument?

XXVII. Jam vero mare, if it did not occur to me as wonderful ^C for its size, I would admire its gentleness and placidity, and at the same time how it happens that, although free and unrestrained, it nevertheless abides within its own boundaries: but if I did not admire its gentleness, I would certainly marvel at its magnitude. Since, however, it excels in both praises, I will praise both power and faculty. Who bound together such a mass of waters? Who confined them, as it were, with certain shackles? How does it happen that it rises, and yet contains itself in its own place, just as if it respected the neighboring land? How does it happen that, although it receives all the rivers, yet because of its exuberant resources and abundance—or by what word I should call this, I know not—it makes no addition to its size, but remains the same and always like itself? How does it happen that it has only sand for a boundary ^D for so great an element? Can the physicists—celebrated for the praise of vain erudition, and truly measuring such great things with a ladle—explain this? Or shall I myself explain this in a very few words from Holy Scripture, and that more probably and more truly than they with their prolix discourses? A decree has established it upon the face of the waters. This is the bond of the liquid nature. And how does it lead the terrestrial sailor on a small piece of wood and by a breeze? (Do you not marvel at this as you see it? Does your intelligence not stand amazed?) So that land and sea might be bound together by needs and interminglings, and that those things which are so far removed from one another might come into one for the sake of man.

And, I would wish you to inquire, O man, if it be possible for you to track down or find what are the first fountains of the springs; and who it is that cleft the rivers, and the plains, and the mountains, and gave them their course without hindrance; and how the miracle exists from opposites, with neither the sea advancing nor the rivers standing still? What, too, is the nourishment of the waters, and what is the difference in this—that some are watered from above, while to others drink is provided through their roots—so that I too might delight myself in the discourse, while explaining the nourishment of God?

^B XXVIII. But now, having dismissed the earth and things terrestrial, be lifted up into the air with the wings of the mind, so that the discourse may proceed for you in proper order; and from thence I shall lead you up to the heavenly things, and to the heaven itself, and to that which is above the heaven. And although the discourse is hesitant to ascend to the things that follow, it shall nevertheless ascend as far as it is permitted. Who is it that poured forth the air—this vast and abundant treasure, not measured out according to dignities or fortunes, not held by boundaries, not divided by ages, but distributed according to the apportionment of the manna, embraced by self-sufficiency, and honoured by equality? This vehicle of the avian nature, the seat of the winds, the timeliness of the seasons, the animation of animals, or rather the preservation of the soul with the body, in which are bodies, and with which is language, in which is light, and that which is illuminated, and the vision that flows through it?

Consider also for me the following: for I am not permitted to yield to the air the entire authority over those things which are supposed to be of the air. Where are the storehouses of the winds? What are the treasures of the snow? Who is it that has brought forth the clumps of dew, according to what is written? Out of whose womb does the ice emerge? Who is it that binds the water in the clouds, and—O, the miracle!—holds fast by HIS word the flowing nature ^C upon the clouds, yet pours it out upon the face of all the earth, sowing it seasonally and equally, and neither leaving the entire liquid substance free and unrestrained (for the purification that occurred in the time of Noah is sufficient, and the most truthful One is not forgetful of his own covenant), nor holding it back entirely, so that we might not again have need of some Elijah to dissolve the drought? If He closes, he says, the heaven, who shall open it? And if He opens the cataracts, who shall hold them back? Who shall bear the intemperance of the one who sends rain, in either direction, if He do not lead all things through by His own measures and scales? What will you philosophize for me regarding lightnings and thunders, O you who thunder from the earth, and with not even small sparks...

of truth shining within you? Into what vapors raised from the earth will you cast the cause of this phenomenon? Will you contend that these are the parents and, as it were, the architects of the clouds, or perhaps some condensation of the air, or the compression and crash of very rare clouds, so that the compression produces the lightning for you, and the crash produces the thunder? And what about the breath that is confined and compressed, and then lacking an exit, so that ^A by its very compression it produces lightning, and by its breaking forth, thunder? But if you have traversed the air in your mind, and everything that concerns the air, touch then with me also the heaven and the things of heaven. Let faith lead us further than reason—if indeed you have learned your own weakness in the things closer at hand, and have known what reason is, so as to recognize what things exceed the human grasp, lest otherwise you remain entirely earthly, and immersed in earthly things, while ignorant even of this very thing: your own ignorance.

XXIX. Who made the heaven pivot and turn? Who ordered the stars?

^A

XXX. But how much does that which I am about to say seem to you, if you have truly considered it? "The sun in the realm of things perceived is what God is in the realm of things understood," says someone among the aliens. For he illuminates the vision, just as the Other clarifies the mind; and he is the most beautiful of things seen, just as the Other is of things understood. But what was it that moved him from the beginning? What, I ask, is that which moves him eternally and turns him about, while he remains fixed in reason—unmoving, in truth, untiring, life-giving, and the source of life for all, and whatever else has been sung of him by the poets—and yet never ceases either his own course or his benefits? How is he the creator of day when above the earth, and of night when beneath the earth, or—I do not know what I should say—looking upon the sun? What is this taking up and taking away of these seasons, and this equality of inequality, if I may say something even more paradoxical? And how is he the maker and distributor of the hours, orderly appearing and disappearing, and, as it were, interlocking with one another in a dance and then separating (the one by the law of friendship, the other by ^B the prescription of order), and mingling little by little, and stealing upon one another by their nearness, days and nights alike, so that they may not cause distress by their unfamiliarity? But let the sun be as he is. Have you learned the nature of the moon, its phases, its measures of light, and its courses? And how it is that one holds the sovereignty of the day, while the other presides over the night? And how the one gives boldness to the beasts, while the other rouses man to his work, or, by rising and setting, serves the greatest utility? Have you understood the "bond of the Pleiades" or the "fence of Orion," as He who numbers the multitude of the stars and gives names to them all, and knows the difference of glory of each, and the order of their movement—so that I might believe you, who through these things compose your own teachings, and arm the creation against the Creator?

XXXI. What do you say? Shall we stop our discourse here, at the level of matter and things ^D seen? Or, since [the light] that shines upon us... (for they say that this is Plato’s, as one who had read the Mosaic law and from that had derived his theology concerning this, and many other things).

^A Or shall we rather pour forth our prayer—since Scripture teaches that the Mosaic tabernacle was a figure and image of the whole world (for the world consists of visible and invisible things)—because we have passed through the first veil and crossed beyond those things that move the senses, and looked into the Holy of Holies, that is, into the super-celestial nature, which is grasped by nothing other than reason and intelligence? But we cannot behold even this, although it is devoid of body, in a strictly incorporeal way, for it is called and made both fire and spirit. For God, as it is written in the sacred letters, "makes his angels spirits, and his ministers a flame of fire," unless by "making" here it signifies nothing other than to maintain and preserve those things in the same state in which they were first created. ^B Furthermore, the angel is called "spirit" and "fire": the former because it is endowed with an intelligible nature, the latter because it is applied to the purifying of our souls; since that primary essence is also called by the same names in Scripture. But let those beings be, for us, incorporeal, or as near to this as possible. For you see how we struggle concerning a discourse of this kind, and have nowhere to proceed; or at any rate, we cannot proceed further than to know that there are certain angels and archangels, thrones, lordships, principalities, powers, splendors, ascents, intelligent virtues, or rather minds, pure natures and entirely unadulterated, immovable towards evil, or at least not easily moved, ever dancing around that primary Cause; or—if anyone can bring anything more fitting to the singing of their praises—they are infused from thence with most pure splendor, or illumined in one way or another according to the proportion of the nature and order of each. They are so informed and impressed by that supreme beauty ^C that they themselves are rendered other lights, and can illuminate others through the influxions and communications of the first light; they, being ministers of the divine will and possessing power not only natural but also adventitious, traverse all places and are present to all everywhere with readiness, both on account of the promptness of their ministry and the lightness of their nature. Some also embrace one part of the world, or at least to others a certain part has been committed, as He knows who ordained and distinguished these things; leading all things into one, towards the single inclination of Him who created all things; singers of the divine majesty, spectators of glory eternal and eternally, not that God may be glorified (for there is nothing that can be added to the Fullness, who is also the grantor of good things to others), but that the capacity to be benefited may not be lacking even to the first natures after God. If these things have been celebrated as they deserve, glory to the Trinity and to the one Divinity in the three; if however it is less than my desire ^D, the discourse nonetheless has its victory in this. For this was what it struggled to set forth—that the nature of these secondary beings is superior to intellect, not to mention the first and sole—for I hesitate to say over all.

of all things, by the Creator's nod, unite all in one; they sing the praises of the divine majesty and gaze eternally upon that eternal glory, not that any part of God's glory may increase therefrom (for there is nothing that can be added to Him who is full and is the author of good things to others); but lest those first natures after God should cease to be affected by the benefit. If these things have been proclaimed by us with the dignity the subject requires, thanks should be given to the Trinity, and to the divinity that is one in three persons: but if for greediness not enough has been done, the reward is nevertheless ready for the oration. For in this, we have exerted every effort of speech to show that not even the very nature of secondary things can be comprehended by the mind and intellect of man, let alone that first one and only one, which I fear even to say is higher than all things. ^A

ORATION XXIX. — THEOLOGICAL III. ON THE SON

I. These indeed are, for curbing their readiness for disputing and their precipitate celerity, which in all matters, but most especially in those disputations which are held concerning God, can bring about danger, the points to be made. But since to rebuke is not a great thing—for it is most easy and for any man who wishes to do so; but to substitute one's own opinion is the mark of a pious man and one who has a mind: come, having relied upon the holy Spirit, whom we indeed worship, but they despise and hold as nothing, let us, supported and aided by His divine power, bring forth into the light our own belief concerning the divinity, whatever it may be, just as some noble and mature offspring. Not that at other times we have been silent (for in this one thing alone are we bold and magnanimous), but because now we proclaim the truth with even greater liberty and confidence: lest otherwise out of timidity, to use the word of Scripture, we be punished with this penalty, that we might not be pleasing to God. Furthermore, since every speech is twofold, the one by which we confirm our own dogmas, the other by which we overthrow ^B those of our adversaries; we, having set forth our own first, shall thus attempt to overthrow those of our opponents; and both, as far as possible in a few words, so that they may be readily understood.