not allow the sweat of our labors to flow down and become an impediment A to our vision. It is for this reason that the eyebrows serve as a rampart. What vinedresser can so skillfully fashion a vine, or fence it with an eyebrow, so that it is difficult to approach, or impede the runoff into the adjacent ravines of the fields, as the Lord has fashioned the covering of the brows? He has gladly traced for us, from a single symbol, the ridge that parts to either side of the nose, so that sweat flowing hither and thither provides no distraction to the husbandman, nor does he, while wiping away the sweat, withdraw his hand from the vine; rather, the sweat flows along its own channels, designed of old by the Creator to lead it away toward useless places, and simultaneously the eye performs its own proper task. If we wished to speak of those things for which we are indebted to God, the whole day would fail us. But from this one example, may you grasp the whole concept. As for us, send us forward with your prayers, since we must journey upon a certain necessary path, that, having returned to you in haste and safely, we may pay the remainder of our debt, by the grace of the Lord who has ordered all things regarding us, and who created us by His own grace; for to Him be glory and power, to the ages of ages. Amen.
OF OUR HOLY FATHER GREGORY, BISHOP OF NYSSA, ON THE LIFE OF MOSES, OR ON THE PERFECTION OF A LIFE ACCORDING TO VIRTUE
BAs those who love to watch the horse races, those who look upon those for whom they feel zeal in the struggle of the course, even though they omit no diligence of spirit toward the ones they wish to see win, yet, anxiously following the course with their eyes, they shout from above and urge them on, thinking that they are inciting the charioteer to a swifter rush, crying out together with the horses and, as if with a lash, stretching out their hands toward them and shaking them; not because they do not know that these things contribute nothing toward the victory, but because their benevolence and zeal toward
A those who are struggling are signified by their voice and demeanor. I think that I myself am doing something similar regarding you, most prized of friends and brothers, because you are competing well in the divine race upon the stadium of virtue, and are hastening toward the prize of the upward calling with frequent and light leaps. I cry out to you and urge you, and I command you to increase your speed with zeal. I do these things not because I am carried away by some irrational impulse, but because I am complying with the desire of a beloved son. For since the letter which you sent recently expressed this request—that I provide you with some instruction for the perfect life—I thought it fitting to grant it. Even if none of the things I say may be of any other use to you, this thing at least is certainly not useless: acting as an example of obedience for you. For if we, who are placed in the position of fathers over so many souls, have deemed it fitting for B this old age to take up the commands of a modest youth, surely obedience will have even greater power in you, since your youth will have been trained to obey our example. But enough of this. For we must begin the discourse we have set before us, with God as our guide and patron. You asked of me, most beloved son, that I describe for you diligently what the perfect life is; and I do not doubt that you wish to learn this so that, once you have found what you seek, you may adapt what you have discovered to your own life. Yet I see two things in this matter, and both seem to me equally impossible. For I must confess that both describing perfection of life by reason and demonstrating in life itself what reason has grasped are beyond my powers; indeed, I suspect that for many who are more excellent in virtue and for men of great stature, these things are difficult to describe—or rather, truly impossible. But lest I appear to fear where there is no fear, as C the Psalmist says, I will explain to you what I desire more clearly. Perfection in all other things that are grasped by the senses is distinguished by certain fixed boundaries, as in the case of quantity, both continuous and discrete. For every measure of quantity is enclosed within its own proper limits; and he who looks to the cubit or the number ten knows whence each has its beginning and where it ends, in which its perfection is held. But regarding virtue, we have learned from the Apostle that this is the definition of perfection: to have no definition at all. For that great and high-minded man, the divine Apostle, as he ran through the path of virtue, never ceased from stretching himself toward the things that are before him; for it was not safe for him to cease his running. Why? Because every good by its own nature, in that it is good, has no limit, but is limited only by the juxtaposition D of its opposite: as life is compared with death, and light with darkness; and every good, in short, terminates at that which is understood to be its opposite. For just as the end of life is the beginning of death, so the cessation of the course according to virtue is the beginning of the course according to vice. Therefore, the word has not deceived us; it is difficult…
A to say that the comprehension of perfection is possible regarding virtue; for it has been shown that what is comprised within limits is not virtue.
Since, however, I have also said to those who pursue the life according to virtue that it is impossible to attain the height of perfection, the argument will be clarified regarding this as well. The first and properly good [Being], whose nature is goodness—God, I say, Himself—is and is named whatever in nature is understood to be. Since, therefore, it has been shown that there is no limit to virtue, except for vice, and the Divine is incapable of receiving its opposite, the Divine nature is understood as being without limit and without end. But surely he who pursues true virtue partakes of nothing else than God; for He Himself is the perfect virtue. Since, therefore, the good by nature is entirely desirable to those who know it, and this [good] has no limit, the desire of the one partaking of it, extending itself along with the infinite, has no stopping point. B Therefore, it is altogether impossible to reach the culmination of the perfect, because perfection, as has been said, is not contained by limits; and the limit of virtue is that very thing: to be unlimited. How, then, could someone reach the sought-after end, not finding [any] end?
Yet, because the word has shown that what is sought is generally unattainable, we must not for that reason neglect the commandment of the Lord, which says: “Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt. v, 48). For in the case of things that are good by nature, even if it is not possible to attain the whole, it would be a great gain to those who have sense not to miss even a part. Therefore, all diligence must be shown so that we do not fall away entirely from the possible perfection; C but rather, that we may possess as much of it as we can grasp. For perhaps this is the perfection of human nature: to be always willing to have more in the good.
It seems to me well to use the counsel of Scripture regarding this. For the divine voice says somewhere through the prophecy of Isaiah: “Look to Abraham your father, and to Sarah who bore you” (Isa. LI, 2). For the word surely commands this to those who are wandering outside of virtue, so that, just as those who have been carried off course in the open sea from the direct path to the harbor, once they have seen a sign of their error—either a beacon raised up from a height, or the peak of some promontory revealed—in the same way, those who wander on the sea of life with unguided mind may be steered back again by the example of Sarah and Abraham toward the harbor of the divine will. For since human nature has been divided into female and male, D and for both, the choice between virtue and vice is set forth with equal authority, for this reason the appropriate example of virtue was set forth by the divine voice for each part, so that looking towards what is akin to them—the men towards Abraham, and the other part towards Sarah—both might be guided through their own examples toward the life of virtue. Perhaps, therefore, it would be sufficient
A if we took the life of one approved person as an example, so that it might be like a shining torch set upon a watchtower, B showing us how it is possible to cross these waves of life without shipwreck, and not permit our soul, beset by the waves of perturbation, to be swallowed up in the abyss of wickedness, but rather lead it into the most secure harbor of virtue.
For this reason, we must believe that the lives of the most excellent men have been written with such precision, so that, through the imitation of those who have attained success, our own life that follows may be directed towards the good. But someone will say: "How, if I am neither a Chaldean, as Abraham is recorded to have been, nor the ward of the daughter of the Egyptian king, as the narrative holds regarding Moses, nor do I have anything in common with any of the ancients, shall I be able to attain the life of any of them, when I have nothing by which I can imitate a man of such different life and character, and of ages so far removed?" To this we will answer that being a Chaldean, or living in Egypt, or dwelling in Babylon, pertains neither to vice nor to virtue, nor is one for that reason kept far from the straight life of virtue; for nor is God known to the worthy in Judea alone, as of old, nor is Zion, according to the literal sense, the home of the Divine. Rather, we must look more subtly and acutely, so that we may see which Chaldeans or Egyptians the Scripture, through C its history, admonishes us to flee, and from what Babylonian captivity, having been liberated, we might at last ascend to the blessed life.
For these reasons, therefore, let that Moses be set forth as an example of life for us in our discourse, whose life if we first run through briefly (as we have learned from the divine books), we shall then search out the sense of the history that is appropriate, by which we shall more easily recognize the perfect life for humans. It is written, therefore, that Moses was born when the law of the tyrant forbade the male infants of the Hebrews to live, having anticipated by grace the entire contribution that time otherwise brings; and immediately from his swaddling clothes, being seen as comely, he caused dread to his parents of having such a one vanish by death. Then, as the threat of the D tyrant prevailed, he was not simply cast into the currents of the Nile, but having been placed in a certain ark, the seams of which had been smeared with bitumen and pitch, he was thus committed to the stream (for this is what those who have studied the history of his life have recounted); and with a certain divine power steering the ark, it was brought to shore on a certain bank, with the ark having been cast up by the force of the waves to that particular spot on its own. While the daughter of the king was walking along the meadows of that bank, where the ark had chanced to drift, he was found by the princess, crying out with an infant’s wail in the container; and having been seen with the grace that appeared upon him, he was immediately taken into favor by the princess, and—
A adopted in the place of a son. Yet, naturally turning away from the foreign breast, by the forethought of one of his own kin he was reared at his mother’s breast. And once he had passed the age of childhood amidst royal nurture and had been instructed in the learning of those outside—which was considered to be of great repute among the outsiders—he no longer chose to acknowledge that "sophisticated" mother by whom he had been adopted in the place of a son, but returned again to his own nature and mingled with his fellow tribesmen. B And when a fray broke out between a certain Hebrew and an Egyptian, he took his kinsman’s side and killed the foreigner. Then, when two Hebrews were entangled in a dispute with one another, he tried to calm the contention between them. He advised them to behave well, as they were brothers, and not to make anger the arbiter of their disputes, but nature. Rebuffed by the one who looked toward injustice, he found in this disgrace an occasion for a greater philosophy. Having become far removed from the society of the multitude, he spent his life in solitude thereafter, having joined himself to one of the foreigners—a man observant of what is better, and one who had examined the character and life of men. Having perceived the virtue of the young man from a single action—I mean his aggression against the herdsmen—and how, looking not to any personal gain, he fought for the just side, but rather, judging justice itself to be precious by its own nature, he punished the herdsmen who had wronged nobody toward him; C admiring the young man for these things and judging his virtue more precious than the many-talented wealth which was apparent in his poverty, he gave him his daughter in marriage and permitted him to pursue the life he desired according to his own choice.
Now his life was valiant and distinct, freed from all the turbulence of the marketplace, living alone in the desert with the care of sheep. And when a period of time had passed in that form of life, the history says that a fearsome theophany occurred to him, at established midday, when a light other than the sunlight flashed dazzlingly upon his eyes. Struck with wonder at the strangeness of the sight, he looked up toward the mountain and saw a bush, from which the light was ignited in a fiery manner, while the branches of the bush were flourishing as if in dew, though surrounded by the flame. He spoke these words to himself: «I will pass by and see this great sight.» D And having said this, he did not receive the wonder of the light with his eyes alone, but—what is most paradoxical of all—even his hearing was illuminated by the rays of that light. For the grace of that light, distributed to both senses, dazzled his eyes with the radiance of its beams, while it enlightened his hearing with immortal doctrines. Thus the voice of that light forbade Moses to approach the mountain while burdened by dead sandals, but commanded him to loosen the sandal from his feet and so touch that earth which was glowing with divine light.
Then, so that I may not be too long in the history—for I think one must not linger too much on the plain history of the man in his words, so as to hold fast to the matters proposed—being strengthened by the theophany that appeared to him, he is ordered to rescue his fellow tribesmen from the slavery of the Egyptians. And that he might learn as much as possible the power being born in him from God, he makes a test by God’s command of the things he had in his hands.
A Indeed, the test was this: the rod, thrown from his hand, became animated and became a living creature (the creature was a dragon); and again, when taken up by the hand, it became what it was before the transformation into a beast. And the appearance of the hand, when it was once thrust into his bosom, was changed into the whiteness of snow, and again, when it was returned inside, it came back to its own former nature.
As Moses was descending into Egypt, taking with him his foreign wife and the children born to him by her, it is said that an angel met him and brought upon him the fear of death, which the woman easily appeased with the blood of the child's circumcision. Then Aaron, his brother, also divinely prompted, came out to meet him, and a little later the Egyptian people were gathered into a common assembly by both of them, and delivery from slavery was proclaimed to those already worn out by B the hardship of their labors; they also spoke with the tyrant himself concerning this matter. Angered by this more than before, he increased the burden of carrying bricks, both for those who were over the works and for the Israelites themselves, and commanded heavier tasks, so that the Jews, afflicted by the gathering of clay, straw, and stubble, might pine away. But Pharaoh (for this was the name of the tyrant of the Egyptians) attempted to resist the divinely performed miracles and signs, and to this end used the prestidigitations of sorcerers. After Moses had transformed his rod into a serpent in the presence of the Egyptians, the sorcerers thought that they would do the same with their own rods. But the effectiveness of the truth refuted their fraud, as the dragon that was transformed from Moses’ rod consumed the magical sticks—that is to say, the snakes—thereby showing that the rods of the sorcerers possessed no defensive or vital power other than the appearance which the sorcery, tricking their eyes, had displayed to those easily deceived.
Then Moses, seeing that the whole subordinate populace was of one mind with the leader of wickedness, brought a common plague upon the entire nation of the Egyptians, sparing no one from the experience of evils. C And the very elements of existing things, those seen in the universe—earth, fire, air, and water—were moved along with him in such an assault against the Egyptians, like a disciplined army, changing their operations according to the choice of the people. For by the same power, at the same time and in the same place, the disorderly were punished, while that which was free from wickedness remained unaffected. For when all the nature of the waters in Egypt was turned into blood at Moses’ command, so that even the fish were destroyed by the fleshy thickness of the water, for the Hebrews alone, who were drawing it, the water was clear. Whence sorcery had the opportunity to falsely counterfeit the appearance of blood in the water that was found among the Hebrews.
Likewise, a creeping multitude of frogs appeared in Egypt at once (their generation did not follow any nature-ordained sequence to reach such a number, but the command itself innovated the nature of the animal that appeared at that time for the production of the frogs). D The entire Egyptian population was destroyed, being squeezed by these beasts in their own dwellings; but the life of the Hebrews remained untainted by this loathsomeness. Thus, the air made no distinction between day and night for the Egyptians, who continued to feel their way through the same thick darkness, while for the Jews nothing new occurred.
And all the other things happened in the same way: the hail, the fire, the pustules, the gnats, the dog-flies, the cloud of locusts—each of these worked against the Egyptians as is their nature, while the Hebrews knew of the suffering of those who lived among them only through reports and stories, without experiencing any impact of such things themselves. Then the destruction of the firstborn made the distinction between the Hebrew and the Egyptian more precise, as the latter were distraught in their lamentations over the loss of their dearest ones, while the former remained A in complete peace and security, their salvation having been secured at every entrance by the sprinkling of blood, as the doorposts and lintels attached to their dwellings were marked with the blood. Upon this, with the Egyptians crushed by the calamity of the firstborn, and each one mourning their own experiences and all of them collectively lamenting their misfortune, Moses leads the Israelites in their departure, having prepared them to carry away the wealth of the Egyptians under the pretext of borrowing it. And when they had traveled for three days outside of Egypt, the history says again that the Egyptians became difficult, regretting that they had not kept Israel in slavery; and having organized their entire subject force along military lines, they pursued the people with their cavalry. When the [Israelites] saw the preparations of horses and arms, being inexperienced in war and unaccustomed to such wonders, they were immediately struck with fear and stood against Moses. At this moment, the history tells the most paradoxical thing about Moses: that he was B divided in his actions, on the one hand encouraging the Israelites with his voice and his words and exhorted them to have good hope; but inwardly, in his mind, he was offering supplication to God on behalf of those who were terrified; and he was being guided by counsel from above as to how he might escape the danger, with God Himself (as the history says) heeding the unuttered cry. Now, as the pillar of cloud led the people by divine power, it was not according to common nature (for its composition was not from certain vapors or exhalations, thickened by the vapours of the air through a misty constitution and compressed by the winds), but rather something better and higher than human comprehension. As Scripture testifies, such was the miracle of that cloud: that even when the sun's rays were shining intensely, it served as a barrier for the people, shading what lay beneath it and tempering the heat of the air with a fine dew; and through the night it became fire, providing light for the Israelites from evening C until dawn, holding torches with its own glow. Looking toward this himself, and having taught the people to follow what appeared, Moses, when they had come to the Red Sea—with the cloud leading the way and the entire army of the Egyptians encircling the people from behind, so that there was no escape for them anywhere from their dire straits, being hemmed in between the enemy and the water—then Moses, driven by divine power, accomplished what was most incredible of all. For he approached the water at the shore and struck the sea with his rod; and it was split by the blow. And just as it happens upon glass,
Hæc, inquam, nubes, quam veluti ducem Mosis parentes monitis, sequebantur, priore omisso itinere in Rubrum mare ducebat. Devenerunt igitur secuti ducem Hebræi usque ad littus: quos Ægyptii persecuti, undique ita concludunt, ut nulla jam fuga humano consilio posset excogitari. Ante ipsos mare Rubrum erat: post ipsos validissimus atque instructissimus Ægyptiorum exercitus. D Tunc res accidit, quæ præ cæteris omnibus fidem excedit: summus ille vir divinitus monitus ad littus descendit, mareque Rubrum virga percussit, et subito ut in vitro facta scissura facile ex altera parte, in alte
Aand continued the end: thus, throughout that whole sea, when at the very end it had been split by the rod, the division of the sea reached as far as the opposite shore. Then Moses, descending into the deep where the sea had been parted, entered with the whole people through the middle of the sea by a fordable path on dry and illuminated ground, fearing nothing from that sudden construction of walls out of the waves, which stood on high on this side and that like walls made of sides of salty liquid. But when Pharaoh with the Egyptians pursued them into the sea along that new path in the waters, the water of the waves joined together again, and as the sea returned to its former state, a single face of water was created once more, while the Israelites were already resting on the other bank after that long journey through the sea; when they also sang a song of victory to God, who had then raised up for them a bloodless trophy, with the entire army of the Egyptians, their horses, arms, and chariots, having been swallowed by the water. B Next, Moses proceeds, and when he had completed a three-day journey on dry land, he is placed in distress, having nothing with which to quench the thirst of the army. For there was a certain lake, around which they had pitched their camp, of sea water, or rather, more bitter than the seas themselves. When, therefore, they were sitting by the water and burning with thirst, Moses, warned by God, casts into the water a piece of wood which he had found in that place. And immediately the wood, by its own virtue, changed the nature of the water from bitterness to sweetness. Moreover, as the cloud moved, they also moved at its motion, always doing this: they would rest where the cloud stood, and that would be the sign of rest; but they would set out again wherever the cloud led them. Following this guide, therefore, they arrive at a place irrigated by potable waters, abundantly supported by twelve springs. There were also C seventy palm trees, which, although few in number, were nevertheless wonderful to those who beheld them because of their beauty and height. Again, from there, that cloud, the guide, moved the army to another place. This region, however, was a desert, dry and covered with sand, and not irrigated by any spring of water, where the people were again fatigued by thirst. Moses, however, having struck a certain rock with his rod, caused most abundant and most sweet rivers of water to leap forth. Where, now, with the supply of provisions which they had brought from Egypt failing, and the people being pressed by hunger, a miracle occurs, the most incredible of all: for food did not appear to them from the earth, as is usual, but flowed down from above from heaven like dew. For dew was spread for them around daybreak, D which yielded food to those who gathered it: and it was not a watery dripping, as is wont to happen in dew, but instead of drops, crystalline granules bound together in the form of coriander seed, which are called coriander in the rustic tongue, descended in spherical form, the taste of which imitated the sweetness of honey.
A To this miracle was added another: that although all those who went out to gather it were of different ages and strengths (as was to be expected), none took more or less than another because of any difference in their capability. Rather, what was gathered was measured by the need of each, so that neither did the stronger man possess more, nor was the weaker man deprived of an equal share. Furthermore, the history narrates yet another miracle concerning this: that what each person gathered for the day, nothing of it was put aside for the morrow. And if any, through some parsimony, did store up the food from the day's portion for the next, the stored part was useless for nourishment, being transformed into the nature of worms.
There is yet another thing, paradoxical, in the history of this food. For one of the days of the week, which by a certain mystical reason was honored with cessation, on the day preceding that same day, although the influx of sustenance and the eagerness of the gatherers was the same as the previous times, the amount gathered was found to be double the customary measure, so that they might have no excuse to violate the law of rest due to the necessity of food. In this, the divine power was even more clearly manifested: for while on other days the remainder would spoil, what was gathered on the sole Preparation day (for this is the name of that day of rest) remained uncorrupted, so that it seemed no more stale than what was fresh.
B Then, a war was stirred up against them by a foreign nation (the account calls those who then rose up against them the Amalekites), and then for the first time the Israelite people were armed for battle; not that the whole army of all of them was moved to the fight, but men chosen for their excellence, the elite among them, took up the war. In this, Moses again demonstrated a novel mode of generalship. For while Joshua, who had taken over the helm of the people after Moses, led the army out against the Amalekites, Moses stood outside the conflict on a certain hilly lookout, C looking toward heaven, with two of his intimates standing on either side of him—for we hear of this miracle from the history regarding what was happening: If Moses raised his hands toward heaven, the subjects were strengthened against the enemies; but if he lowered them, the army would give way to the onslaught of the foreigners. The men standing near him, realizing this—that for some hidden cause the hands of Moses had become heavy and difficult to move—stepped in on either side to support them. And because they were too weak to hold him in an upright posture, they placed a stone under him for a seat, and thus by their own efforts they saw to it that Moses raised his hands toward heaven. When this was done, the foreign nation was utterly defeated by the Israelites D while, at that same place, the cloud remained which led the way for the journey of the people, and there was no necessity for the people themselves to migrate, as there was no one to lead them in migration. Thus, as the provisions for living were present to them without toil—the air raining bread down to them from above, the rock supplying drink from below, and the cloud again tempering the unpleasantness of the open air, acting as a screen against the heat.
A With these things thus accomplished, when God wished to instruct both their leader and the people in greater and more hidden mysteries, He commanded the people through Moses to be clean both in body and soul, to such an extent that they were to abstain even from their wives for a certain number of days, and by certain sprinklings washing away stains, so that having laid aside every blemish of soul and body, they might be able to approach Mount Sinai. This mountain, indeed, at that time provided access only to those who used reason, and not to all of these, but only to the men; and not even to all the men, but only to those who had diligently purged every stain from themselves. There was also no small concern for everyone that no beast should be permitted to approach the mountain. It was ordained that if by chance it should happen otherwise, whatever beast appeared near the mountain should be stoned by the people.
B These things having been arranged, on a clear day the mountain was suddenly surrounded by darkness, and fire, leaping out from the middle of the darkness and consuming the whole tract of the mountain, terrified those who looked upon it, as everything was filled with smoke and gloom. Yet Moses led the people to the mountain, although he himself was also so struck with fear by this sight that he could in no way conceal it from the Israelites; but even by the very movements of his body he revealed that he was moved—for terror was invading souls not only through the eyes, but even through the sense of hearing; for a certain terrifying voice from heaven was bursting forth into all the spaces of the places below, the first impulse of which brought to the ears of anyone the intolerable sound of a trumpet. But it exceeded all terror of such examples, and the further it progressed, the more terrible a sound it emitted; and that voice was articulate. For the air, without vocal organs, by divine power formed not an empty utterance, but a speech signifying divine things, and it was setting forth laws and ordinances to the people. C When the people could not bear all these things, they obtained from Moses that the law should be handed down to them from God, with him as mediator, asserting that they would not retract anything, but would believe all things just as they were handed down to them by God Himself through Moses. Thus, the people indeed retreated to the places below the mountain. Moses, however, being left alone on the mountain, was affected differently than other men are accustomed to be. For while all others are more distressed when left alone, and fear less in company, he, being left alone, became bolder. Whence it was evident that he had not been terrified at the beginning as some timid man might be, but had been moved by the love of the fearing people. Therefore, when he had laid aside the fear of the people as if it were a burden, and had become master of himself, then he even entered boldly into the darkness itself. And so he moves among invisible things, and no longer appears to those who are looking on. For divine...
initiation, he was there with the Invisible, not being seen—teaching, I think, by what he did, that one who is to be with God must go out from everything that is seen, and lift his own mind, as if to a mountaintop, to that which is invisible and incomprehensible, and there believe that the Divine exists, where understanding cannot reach.
Being in that place, he receives the divine commandments. These were the instruction in virtue, the head of which is piety, that is to say, having fitting opinions about the divine nature, B since it transcends every cognitive thought and representation, being similar to nothing that is known. For He commands that one should look to nothing of the things grasped in human conceptions of God, nor consider the nature that is above all things to be similar to those things known by apprehension; but one should believe that It exists, while leaving the "what," or "how much," or "whence," or "how" it is, unexamined, as it is unattainable.
The discourse also adds whatever pertains to the successes of character, making the instruction in general and specific laws. For in general, the law is the destroyer of every injustice; it is the necessity to behave lovingly toward one's own kind, which, once established, it necessarily follows that one should do no evil to anyone against one's neighbor. In specific matters, however, it enjoins honoring one’s parents, and guarding against the sins that are diligently enumerated. Being, as it were, instructed by these laws, he passes on to more sublime mysteries, a tabernacle having been suddenly displayed to him by divine power. The tabernacle was a temple, possessing beauty in an inexplicable variety: propylaea, pillars, curtains, a table, a lampstand, a censer, an altar, a propitiatory, and that which is within the holy of holies, inaccessible and unapproachable. C The beauty and arrangement of all these things, partly so that it might not escape his memory, and partly that the miracle might be revealed to those below, he is counseled not to hand down by mere drawing, but to imitate that immaterial creation through material construction, taking up the more brilliant and lustrous materials found on earth.
In these, there was much gold poured around the pillars; but silver was joined with the gold, adorning the tops and bases of the pillars by itself; so that, I think, with the differing color on either side, the gold would appear as it were more brilliant. But the material of bronze was also deemed useful, becoming the head and base for the silver of the columns. The curtains and veils, and the enclosure of the temple, and that which is over the pillars D was poured with gold, and with the gold, silver ornamented their tops and bases, so that by the variety of color, as I believe, they might shine more brightly. But the material of bronze also appeared not useless; for the heads and bases of the columns were made of bronze. The curtains moreover and the tents, and the enclosure of the whole temple, and the roof extended over the columns, were all fashioned through the weaving art, with the material appropriately assigned to each. Some had a dye of hyacinth and purple, and
A the incandescent splendor of the scarlet dye—the bright aspect of the fine linen, its natural and artless appearance. For others, linen was taken, and for others, hair, to suit the needs of the weaving. And there were places where the red skins were suitable for the beauty of the construction. These things, indeed, Moses fashioned through those who served him according to the model of creation B set forth to him, after his descent from the mountain. But then, when he was in that temple not made with hands, and was receiving the laws regarding the vestments with which the priest must be adorned when he was to enter the inner sanctum of the Temple—both the inner garment and the outer—the discourse begins appropriately not from the inner, but from the outer. The ephods were variegated with different dyes, from those same materials of which the veil was constructed, and having for the most part threads of gold. Clasps on either side held the ephods together, binding C emeralds in a circle with gold. The beauty of these stones was, on the one hand, from their nature, flashing forth certain greenish rays, and on the other, from the art, the wonder of the carvings. The art did not carve into them the likeness of any idols, but the names of the patriarchs were engraved upon the stones, one by one, and this became their ornament. The gold shields suspended from these on the front part, and the intertwined chains, alternating by rhythm in a net-like fashion, suspended from the clasp on either side above the shields, were so, I suppose, that the beauty of the weave might shine forth more brightly, D illuminated by what lay beneath it. There was also that gold-wrought ornament of the breast, on which were certain stones of different types, equal in number to the patriarchs, set in four rows, with three in each, showing by letters the names of the tribes upon them. There was the tunic inside the ephods, reaching from the neck to the feet, appropriately adorned with the hanging ornaments. The lower hem was adorned not only by the variety of the weave, but also was most beautiful with golden appendages. These were golden bells and pomegranates that surrounded the aforementioned hem in turn. There was also the headband for the head, entirely of hyacinth, and the leaf on the forehead, of pure gold, engraved with a certain ineffable character. There was also the belt, which girded the flowing garment, and the ornament of the hidden things, and all those things which, through enigmas in the form of clothing, teach about priestly virtue. Since he had been instructed in these things by being enveloped in that invisible cloud, in the ineffable teaching of God, and had become greater than himself by the addition of the mystical teachings, thus emerging from the cloud again, he descends to his own kin, to share with them the things shown to him in the theophany, and to lay down the laws...
the tabernacle, and the priesthood, establishing them for the people according to the archetype shown to him upon the mountain. A He also brought the sacred tablets in his hands, which were a divine discovery and gift, needing no human cooperation for their making; rather, both the material and the characters inscribed upon it were equally the work of God. But the people thwarted this grace by breaking out into idolatry before the lawgiver had arrived.
For since a not inconsiderable time had passed for Moses while he was occupied with the communion with God through that divine mystical initiation, and for forty days and as many nights he was participating in that eternal life beneath the cloud, having moved outside his own nature (for he did not, during that time, require food for his body)—then, just like a child who finds itself outside the view of its tutor, the people were carried away by irrational impulses into disorder and, gathering against Aaron, forced the priest to lead them in idolatry. B And when the idol was made from the gold as its material (the idol was a calf), some gloried in the impiety. But Moses, having by then arrived among them, shattered the tablets which he was bringing from God, so that they might suffer a punishment worthy of their offense, being deprived of the grace that receives God. Then, having cleansed the defilement with the blood of their kinsmen through the Levites, and having rendered the Divine favorable through his own anger against those who had transgressed, he then caused the idol to disappear; thus, again, through the persistence of forty days, he obtained the tablets, which Scripture says were from divine power, but the material was fashioned by the hand of Moses. He receives these again, having traversed human nature in that great number of days and living in a way other than the one customary to us, having admitted into his own body none of those things which support our nature through food.
And thus he set up the tabernacle for them and presented the legal requirements, having established the priesthood according to the instruction given to him from God. C And when he had prepared everything according to the divine instruction through material craftsmanship—the tabernacle, the propylaea, all the things within, the incense burners, the altar, the lampstand, the hangings, the mercy seat inside the holy of holies, the priestly vestments, the oil, the various sacred rites, the purifications, the thank-offerings, the averters of evils, the propitiations for those who had sinned—after he had set everything in order among them in the due manner, he stirred up in those around him envy, that disease congenital to human nature. So much so that Aaron, who had been honored with the dignities of the priesthood, and his sister Miriam, stirred by a certain womanly jealousy toward the honor conferred upon him by God, spoke something upon which the Divine was moved to the punishment of the transgression. D Here, indeed, it is worthy to admire Moses all the more for his long-suffering, in that while God was punishing the irrational malice of the woman, he, having made his own nature stronger than anger, propitiated God on behalf of his sister.
When the multitude again turned to disorder (for the lack of restraint regarding the pleasures of the belly was the leader of the transgression, for whom it was not enough to live healthily and without pain from the food flowing down from above; but the desire of the flesh and the craving for meat made the slavery in Egypt more desirable than the goods present to them), he communicates the matter to God.
A God, however, educates them, showing that it ought not to be so, by giving them what they craved: a multitude of birds, flying close to the ground, which He let fall upon the camp like a cloud; and as they flew in flocks, the ease of the hunt led them on to indulge their desire for meat to the point of gluttony. Undue excess in eating suddenly altered the state of their bodies into corrupting humors, and their satiety ended in disease and death—a pattern for them, and for those who look upon them, sufficient for temperance. Then spies were sent out by him into that land which, according to the divine promise, was in their hopes as a place of habitation. But since not all of them reported the truth, and some brought back false and gloomy accounts, the people again became angry with Moses. B And God condemned those who had despaired of the divine assistance, so that they would not see the land promised to them. As they proceeded through the desert, water again failed them, and with it their memory of the power of God also faded. For they did not believe that even now their need would be met, by the miracle previously wrought at the rock; but abandoning their better hopes, they proceeded to revile God Himself and Moses, so much so that even Moses appeared to stumble at the unbelief of the people, although he was granted by God to work a miracle again, changing that sheer rock into a nature of flowing waters.
And when again their servile pleasure for food stirred up the desire of gluttony, and despite lacking none of the necessities of life, they dreamed of the Egyptian plenty—like the most unruly among the youth, they were disciplined by sharper lashes, for serpents were sent against them throughout the camp, dealing death with their bite. C But as the deaths from the beasts were happening in succession, the lawgiver, spurred by divine counsel, poured bronze into the form of a serpent and set it upon a height, to be visible to the entire camp; and thus he stayed the destruction from the beasts among the people. For he who looked upon the image of the serpent in the bronze, feared not the bite of the true and literal serpent, for a certain ineffable antipathy of the sight weakened the venom.
Again, when a revolt concerning the leadership arose from the people, and certain ones were forcing themselves to take the priesthood upon themselves, Moses indeed acted as an intercessor for those who were sinning; but the justice of God's judgment was stronger than Moses' compassion for his own kin. For the earth, parting by divine will, closed again upon itself, swallowing up the whole gathering of those who had risen up against the authority of Moses. D Those, however, who had raged for the priesthood, about two hundred and fifty of them, were consumed by fire, and by their own suffering restored their kin to a sound mind. But so that the people might be the more persuaded that the grace of the priesthood comes to those counted worthy from God, rods were taken from those leading each tribe, each one marked with the letters of the one who had given it, among which was that of Aaron the priest. Moses placed these in the temple, and on the following day revealed to all the verdict of God concerning the priesthood. For alone of all, the rod of Aaron sprouted, and it produced and perfected the fruit of the wood (the fruit was a nut). This was deemed the greatest miracle even to the faithless: how the dried and smoothed wood, and without...
A earth, or bark, or moisture, or root, or branches of the divine power, became in the wood. Following these events, while leading his army through foreign nations, he made it a strict rule for his people to leave their fields and vineyards unmolested, and to keep to the royal road, turning neither to the right nor to the left. But when the enemies would not even then keep the peace, he overcame his opponent in battle and gained control of the crossing.
Then Balak, having the leadership of a greater nation (the Midianites is the name of this nation), being terrified at the plight of those who had previously perished, and expecting that he would soon suffer the same at the hands of the Israelites, sought as an ally, not any leaders of arms or troops, but a certain Balaam, a sorcerer who had a reputation for these things, and was believed by those who consulted him to possess power for such enterprises. His art was augury, and through some cooperation of demons he was malicious, bringing unspeakable things upon men by some more curious power. Following those who were leading him to the king of the nation, he was instructed by the voice of the donkey that the way was not auspicious for him. Then, having learned through a certain manifestation what was to be done, he found those evil sorceries to be weaker than causing any harm to those who were assisted by God. Instead of the activity of the demons, becoming inspired by divine breath, he uttered such words that they were clearly a prophecy of things that would befall for the better in the future. For by those means through which he was prevented from working evil with his art, by those same means, having come into a sense of the divine power, he left divination aside and acts as a prophet for the divine will.
And following these events, the nation of the foreigners is crushed, the people having proved more powerful in war; but having been defeated after this by the passion of licentiousness among the captives, when Phinehas, having struck down those who were entangled in dishonor with one blow, caused the anger of God against those who had raged in unlawful unions to cease. Then the Lawgiver, having ascended a high mountain and observed from afar the land which had been prepared for Israel through the divine promise made to the fathers, departs from human life, leaving behind no token or memorial of his departure upon the earth in graves. B Time did not damage his beauty, nor did it dim the brilliance of his eyes, nor blunt the grace radiating from his face; but he was always the same, preserving in the mutable nature of his body that which is immutable in beauty.
These, then, are the things we learned from the summary history of the man, which we have recounted in passing; although the subject matter is, in parts of it, something that we had to expand upon. Now it would be the time to apply what has been recorded of his life to the purpose of the discourse we have set before us, so that one might receive from the things said beforehand a contribution toward the life of virtue. Let us therefore resume the beginning of the narrative about him.
MYSTICAL INTERPRETATION OF THE LIFE OF MOSES
A When the tyrant’s law decreed that the male offspring of the Jews should be put to death, then Moses is born. How then, someone might ask, shall we imitate that birth of the man which occurred by chance, when such a law had been enacted by the tyrant just at that time when Moses was being carried in his mother's womb? For it is surely not even in a person’s power, whenever he wishes, to be born. But this is the literal sense of the history, which, if it is to be adapted to morality, must be understood more profoundly. Therefore, all things that are set in change and flux never remain firm, but one thing is always generated from another, and the outcome is always either for the better or for the worse, according to the energy of that change. Now, in human beings, this carnal frame, full of passions—which gives pleasure to the tyrant and enemy of the human race, and which he therefore cherishes and grants life—is represented by the female sex. But the male birth, hostile and suspect to the tyrant lest it stir up seditions in his kingdom, signifies rigid and strong virtue. Human life is always subject to change; wherefore, since it is neither eternal nor immutable, it must always be being born. But to be born in this way does not come from an external impulse, not from without, as in bodily birth, but each one is born by his own choice; whence it comes to pass that we are in a certain sense our own fathers, begetting ourselves such as we wish to be by our choice, and fashioning ourselves either as male or female according to the principle of vice or virtue. Therefore, it is permitted to us, indeed, when we hear how great is the grief with which our enemy is afflicted by the birth of male offspring—that is, by the birth of a man endowed with virtue—it is permitted, I say, for us to beget ourselves as males and to bring pleasure to our parents—that is, to the good thoughts which beget virtue; for the thought of virtue is joyful. And this pleasure easily causes us to persevere in virtue, and to live even in opposition to tyrannical laws and institutions. Therefore, the truth of the history teaches us through this enigma to strive with all diligence in this birth which is within us, to be born in such a way that our birth is displeasing to our enemy; for no one brings grief to an enemy unless he shows those signs by which the enemy can recognize himself to be defeated. It belongs to that same will both to beget this masculine and virtuous offspring and to nourish it with the appropriate food, and to provide how it may be saved in the waters. For those who hand over their offspring to be killed by the tyrant, these are the ones who expose their naked children to the waves. By the wave of the waters, I mean this life, in which many are overwhelmed by alternating passions. B But truly, chaste and provident thoughts, the parents of the masculine birth, if at any time they are compelled by the necessity of life to expose their good pledges to the floods of this life, C D
those which fall into the stream, are submerged and suffocated. But prudent and thoughtful minds, the fathers of a courageous progeny, whenever the necessity of life compels them to bring their good offspring down to the waves of this life, provide for its safety with an ark, so that he who is committed to the stream may not be swallowed up. An ark, one might say, is that which is joined together from various planks—that is, education composed of diverse branches of learning, which stays afloat above the waves and supports the one borne upon it through life. Being such, he will not long be led astray by the surge of the waters, carried along by the violence of the waves; but rather, by the steadiness of the bank—that is, by being outside the surge of worldly life—he will be pushed automatically by the force of the waters toward solid ground. A This is something which we also learn by experience: that even those who are not yet sinking into human deceits are, by the very unstable and turbulent movement of circumstances, pushed away of their own accord, as if they were some useless weight, by those who are distressed by the way of virtue. But he who manages to get outside such things should imitate Moses and not spare his tears, even if he happens to be secured within an ark. For the tear is a faithful guardian of those who are saved by virtue. B And if the king’s daughter, being barren and sterile (who, I believe, typifies secular philosophy), having adopted the child, should manage to be called the mother of such an one, the Word permits a man to acknowledge his relationship to this false mother only so long as he sees the imperfection of his own age within himself. But he who has already advanced toward the heights, as we learned regarding Moses, will consider it a shame to be called the child of one who is by nature barren. For secular education is truly barren, always in labor yet never bringing forth anything alive. For what fruit of its long labor pains has philosophy shown that is worthy of such great and such strenuous efforts? Are not all its products wind-borne and fruitless, miscarried before they can come into the light of the knowledge of God? Perhaps they might have become human beings, had they not been hidden away entirely in the bosom of this barren wisdom. C Therefore, one should associate with the queen of the Egyptians only so much as is necessary, so as not to appear devoid of the erudition practiced by them, and then hasten back to his own natural mother, from whom he had not even been parted while nourished by the queen, being suckled with his mother's milk, as the history says. This, it seems to me, teaches us that if we converse with secular discourses during our time of education, we must not be separated from the milk of the Church that nourishes us. That is to say, we must learn and observe the customary laws and mores of the Church, by which the soul is fed and grows strong, and from which it receives the motives for its ascent to the heights. The Word also truly says that he will be placed between two enemies, the one who looks toward secular teachings and not toward those of the patriarchs. For the alien to our religion resists the Hebrew logic, striving to appear stronger than the Israelite. And to many of the more superficial people, such a one has seemed to be this: one who has abandoned the faith of his fathers and fought alongside the enemy, becoming a transgressor of the ancestral teaching. D However, he who, like Moses, is great and noble in soul, proves this one—who is raised up by the word of piety—to be dead by the blow he deals him. And one may find this kind of battle in us in another way as well. For the human being is set like some prize of the contest for those who struggle from the opposite side, and to those...
who add themselves to the one side, he makes him the victor over the contrary. A For example, idolatry and piety, licentiousness and self-control, justice and injustice, pride and humility, and all things thought of as opposites, are a struggle of some Egyptian directly against a Hebrew. Hence Moses educes us by the example of himself to stand firm as one of the same race with virtue, but to destroy the one who attacks from opposite paths to virtue. For in truth, the victory of piety becomes the death and ruin of idolatry. Thus also injustice is killed by justice, and pride is slain by moderation. But the strife of civil and mutual conflict also arises within us. For the dogmas of wicked heresies would not have found a place, unless the opinions of those who hold the truer religion were contending against one another as if a battle line were drawn up on both sides. B If, therefore, we are too weak to render the more just cause victorious, because the worse one is superior in arguments and rejects the authority of the truth, we must flee from there as quickly as possible, in accordance with the historical pattern, toward a higher and more sublime teaching of the mysteries. And if it should be necessary again to associate with an alien—that is, if necessity compels one to associate with external philosophy—we should choose even this, once we have driven away the wicked shepherds from the use of the wells; which is to say, once we have refuted the teachers of evils concerning the wicked use of education, we shall thus live to ourselves, no longer involving ourselves with those fighting and mediating, but we shall live with those who are like-minded and like-thinking to those pastured by us, with all the movements of the soul within us, like sheep, being shepherded by the will of the presiding Word. And thus, while we continue in this peaceful and warless manner of life, the truth will then shine forth, illuminating the eyes of the soul with its own radiance. For God is the truth, which was then manifested to Moses through that ineffable illumination. C But if the light also kindles a certain thorn-bush, by which the soul of the prophet is illuminated, not even this will be useless for us for the question being sought. For if God is the truth, and the truth is light; and the voice of the Gospel also bears witness to these sublime and divine names, applying them to God who appeared to us in the flesh; D consistently, such a path of virtue brings us to the knowledge of that light which descends even to human nature—which does not shine forth from any of the luminaries around the stars, so that the radiance might not be thought to be of the underlying matter, but [shines] from a terrestrial bush, surpassing the heavenly luminaries with its rays. Through this we are taught also the mystery concerning the Virgin, from whom the light of the Divinity, shining forth upon human life through birth, kept the bush that was kindled incorrupt, the sprout of virginity not being withered by the childbirth. From that light we are taught what we must do so that we may stand within the rays of the truth; that it is not for those bound in feet
A to ascend to that summit where the light of truth is seen, unless the dead and earthy covering of skins—which was placed upon our nature at the beginning, when through disobedience we were stripped of the divine will—is loosened from the soles of the soul. And thus, once this has occurred for us, there will follow the knowledge of the truth concerning that which is not of opinion; and this, according to my account, is the definition of truth: not to be deceived in the understanding of the Being. (For falsehood is a certain phantasy concerning that which is not, occurring in the mind as if that which does not exist had subsistence; but truth is the firm understanding of that which is.) And so, by philosophizing through the high meditations of silence over a long period of time, one will with difficulty understand what it is that is truly the Being, which has existence of itself by its own nature; and what that which is not really is—which consists only in the appearance of being, having a nature that is devoid of subsistence in itself. This, I believe, the great Moses learned B in that theophany: that nothing of other things, whether those grasped by sense or those contemplated by the intellect, truly subsists, except for the supreme essence that is the cause of all and upon which all things depend. For if the mind perceives something else among existing things, reason finds it difficult to see in any of the beings that which is independent of another, by which it is possible to exist without participation in the true Being. But that which is always the same, which does not increase, which does not diminish, which is equally unmoved toward every mutation, whether toward the better or toward the worse—for it is as far removed from the worse as it is incapable of the better, and it has no need of anything else; it is the only object of desire, and is participated in by all, and in the participation of those who partake, it is not diminished. This is truly the Being that is, and the understanding of this is the knowledge of the truth. Being in this state, then, that man—and now C everyone who, like him, loosens himself from the earthy covering and sees the light from the bush, that is, the ray that shone upon us through this thorny flesh, which is, as the Gospel says, "the true light and the truth"—becomes such that he suffices for the salvation of others, able both to overthrow the tyrannically prevailing evil, and to lead to freedom all that is held captive by wicked slavery, aided by the wonders of the changed right hand and the staff transformed into a serpent. This, I believe, is to be understood through a riddle as the mystery of the Lord’s divinity shown to men through the flesh, through which there comes both the destruction of the tyrant and the freedom of those held by him. And what leads my mind to this is prophetic and evangelical testimony. For the Prophet says: "This is the change of the right hand of the Most High D," viewed as the divine nature in its immutability, yet in its condescension to the weakness of human nature, toward our own form and shape.
A For as there the hand of the lawgiver, when extended from the bosom, was changed into a color contrary to nature, and again, when it was returned into the bosom, it reverted to its own proper and natural grace; so also the Only-begotten God, He who is in the bosom of the Father, is the right hand of the Most High. But when He appeared to us from the bosom, He was changed according to our nature; and since He wiped away our weaknesses and again brought back the hand that had become among us, and had been colored according to us, into His own bosom (for the bosom of the right hand is the Father), He did not then change the impassibility of His nature into passion, but transformed the mutable and passible into impassibility through the communion with the Immutable.
Let the change of the rod into a serpent not trouble those who love Christ, as though we were adapting the meaning of the mystery to an unseemly animal. For Truth itself, through the evangelical voice, does not reject such an image, where it says: "And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up." And the reason is clear. B For if the father of sin is named a serpent by the divine Scripture, and that which is born of a serpent is by all means a serpent, then consequently sin is synonymous with its progenitor. But yet the apostolic word testifies that the Lord became sin for our sake, He who clothed Himself in our sinful nature. Therefore, the enigma fits the Lord according to reason. For if sin is a serpent, and the Lord became sin (which is nothing else than sin, but for our sake becomes a serpent, that He might devour and consume the Egyptian serpents which seem to be brought to life by the magicians), then, once this is done, it is changed back into the rod by which those who sin are corrected, and those who tread the steep and difficult path of virtue are comforted, leaning with the best hope upon the staff of faith. C "For faith is the substance of things hoped for." Whoever has conceived these things in his mind becomes, as it were, a god to them; whereas those who resist the truth and attend to these material and unsubstantial deceptions—to whom hearing the One who Is is considered as a vanity—are different. For Pharaoh says: "Who is the Lord, that I should obey His voice? I know not the Lord." Only that which is material and carnal is considered honorable and pleasant by those who are occupied with the more irrational senses.
If, therefore, one should be strengthened by the illumination of the light to such a degree, and receive such power and authority against those who are arrayed in opposition, then, like an athlete who has sufficiently exercised his athletic courage under a trainer, D he confidently and with great spirit descends against the enemy, holding in his hand that rod—that is to say, the word of faith—with which he is about to overcome the Egyptian serpents. And his wife from a foreign race will follow him; for there is something in external education that is not to be rejected for our union and the procreation of the virtue of excellence. For moral and natural philosophy can indeed be joined to a more sublime life, and ought to become his bright consort and companion, provided that her offspring brings with it nothing of alien wickedness. Unless one circumcises and removes this, the angel will strike fear of death upon him when he meets him, whom the wife of Moses then
A appeased by the removal of the foreskin, by which aliens are known and contaminated, and thus she made her own world pure. Anyone can easily adapt this historical enigma, through what has been said, to the increase of Christian virtue and piety.
For the offspring of the secular philosopher and its human discipline has a certain carnal foreskin, which, once circumcised, leaves behind what is of Israelitic nobility; for example, philosophers say that the soul is immortal, and this is a pious belief. B But they wish for it to pass from bodies into bodies, and from a rational nature to pass into one devoid of reason; this is the carnal and alien foreskin. [alt-version omitted] And there are many other such things. They say that God exists, but they also think Him to be material; they acknowledge Him to be the Creator, but they hold that He needed matter in order to create; they grant that He is good and powerful, but that in many things He yields to the necessity of fate. And what need is there to recount each point individually, how the good things of their dogmas are polluted by the absurd additions of external philosophy? But if we remove these, the angel of God becomes gracious to us, rejoicing as if in a legitimate childbirth of such dogmas. C But let us return to the intended explanation, so that we may see how fraternal assistance might come to our aid. For at the very beginning of his life, when Moses preferred to live virtuously rather than be called the son of a queen without virtue, a certain bellicose and military encounter occurred for him: an Egyptian attacking a Hebrew, and again a Hebrew rising up against one of his own kind.
But when, by the greater achievements of the soul, and through long application and the illumination that came from on high, he was lifted to higher things, the encounter with his brother became peaceful and desirable, as he was divinely prompted to meet him. D For indeed, if we accept what occurred according to history in a tropological sense, then we will find that divine patronage is manifestly granted to us for virtue, when we have already lived piously according to the prescription of virtue; and this patronage is older than our first generation and creation. For it was created before, but it appears and is known most clearly when we have devoted ourselves to a better life with attention and care, and have undertaken more serious struggles for the sake of zeal for faith and virtue. But lest the enigma of history appear to be explained by further enigmas, I must explain more broadly what I think. A certain tradition, more hidden and a true word, has descended even to us, by which it is believed that after our nature fell into sin, it was not altogether neglected by divine clemency, nor left without its patronage, but that one of the angels, who are by nature incorporeal, was appointed to assist each person, while on the contrary, the corrupter of nature has also devised an equivalent for himself through some evil and malicious
A demon, which ruins human life. Man, however, being in the middle of these two, and having the purpose of each of the accompanying spirits opposed to the other, makes himself by his own power stronger against whichever one he chooses. To the thoughts of the one who chooses the good, virtue shows the goods which are apprehended through hope by those who succeed; but to the thoughts of the other, it shows the material pleasures, from which there is no hope of good things, but the present things—which are enjoyed and perceived—enslave the senses of the more thoughtless. If, therefore, one detaches himself from those who entice him toward evil, having turned his own reasonings for the better, and having cast vice behind his back, as it were, has placed his soul like a mirror opposite the hope of future goods, so that he may express in the purity of his own soul the forms and impressions of the virtue shown to him from God, B then the alliance of the brother meets and stands with him. For the angel is in a certain way, according to the rational and intellectual part of the human soul, a brother—the one who, as has been said, appears and stands by us when we approach Pharaoh.
But let no one, supposing that the narrative of the history is entirely laid out according to the sequence of such a theory of the mind, nullify the whole if anything written is found outside this meaning; rather, let him always be mindful of the purpose of the discourse, which we mentioned at the very beginning when looking toward it—that the lives of admirable men are set before those who come after as an example for virtue. Since, therefore, it is not possible for those who emulate them to arrive at these things through the very material of the events—for how could a people again be found multiplying in Egypt through migration, or again, a tyrant enslaving them C who is hostile toward the male offspring while allowing the softer and weaker female (nature) to increase in number, and all the other things which the history contains, where would one find these? Nowhere, certainly.
Wherefore, since it has been demonstrated that we could in no way emulate the blessed men in the same events, let us translate all that is in harmony with the principles of living well from the historical series to the moral life. For God could certainly have adapted the life of the ancients, understood on a higher level, for the perfection of those who came later. Wherefore, if any saying of the history does not entirely fit the purpose, we pass it over, so that the series of our exposition is not interrupted, and we join together what is suitable. I have said this so that no one may object to me that, while it is fitting to interpret the guardian angel given to us by God as Aaron, D the elder brother of Moses, for the angelic nature is prior and might seem to agree with the human mind as being intellectual and incorporeal, and one might not doubt that he is our greatest help when we rise up against incorporeal enemies, yet one cannot rightly take Aaron to mean the angel always as "brother" to us. For since Aaron is seen to have been the leader of the Hebrews in idolatry, as the history records, (to him we shall reply, passing over the sequence, both these things which we have said, that what is outside the purpose should not undermine the harmony of the rest by arguments, and that...)
the term "brother" and the term "angel" are A homonymous, and are perhaps applied to both of the opposites in meaning. For it is not only of God, but also of Satan, that an "angel" is named; and we call not only the good, but also the evil, a "brother." For so says Scripture: regarding the better sort, "Let brothers be useful in necessities"; and regarding those who are opposite, "Every brother will supplant with his heel." Having set these things in the sequence of our discourse, and deferring the more precise contemplation concerning them to their proper place, let us now touch upon the matters before us.
He, therefore, having strengthened himself with the light that appeared, and having obtained such a brother as a comrade and assistant, being confident, presents to the people the arguments on behalf of the truth, and reminds them of their paternal nobility, and provides counsel on how they might be rid of the misery consisting of mud and brick. What, then, does the history instruct us through these things? That one should not be so bold as to address the people B if he has not, through such training, prepared his own discourse for speaking to the multitude. For you see how, while he was still young, before he had increased to such a degree in virtue, he was not deemed credible to be a counselor of peace for two men who were contending with one another; but now he speaks to many myriads at once, the history almost crying out to you that you should not dare to adopt the role of a teacher of those who are listening unless, through such and so great exercises, [the] power concerning this has been perfected for you. But when the better words have come, and freedom has been pointed out, and those listening have been strengthened toward this desire, the enemy is provoked, and intensifies the pain for those who are subject to the word. Nor is this outside of what is happening now. For many of those who have received the word of the liberator from tyranny, C and who attach themselves to the proclamation, are until now being harassed by the attacks of temptations from the adversary; from which many indeed become more tested and more steadfast regarding the faith, being sharpened by the impact of those things that cause distress. But some of the weaker ones even falter at such occurrences, expressing outright that it is more advantageous for them to have remained unhearing of the proclamation of freedom than, for this reason, to have been brought to such things. This, indeed, was also happening then, due to the faintheartedness of the Israelites who were blaming those who had announced to them the release from slavery. But the word will not any the less strive for the good, even if the infant, still immature in understanding, shrinks in a childish way from the strange trials of temptations. For it was being studiously contrived by the harmful and destructive demon against human beings that those under his hand should not look to heaven, but should bow down to the earth and, in themselves, make bricks of mud. For whatever there is of material enjoyment is entirely from the earth or from D water, whether it pertains to the belly or to wealth,
A or to whatever is seen in relation to riches. The mixture of these elements becomes and is called mud. Those who gape after these muddy pleasures, filling themselves with it, can never keep the capacity for pleasure full; rather, what is always being filled becomes empty again by that which flows in. For the brickmaker, observing one state and then another, B would easily be able to understand the riddle. For he who has sated his desire with some of the things he sought, if he inclines his desire toward something else, is found empty again in relation to that other thing; and even if he becomes full with this, he becomes empty and wide-open again with respect to the former. And this does not cease to be active within us at all times, until someone departs from the material life. The straw, and the chaff from it, which he is compelled to mix into the brick who obeys the tyrannical command—this has already been explained, both by the divine Gospel and by the exalted voice of the Apostle, both of them alike interpreting the straw and the chaff as fuel for the fire. When, therefore, one of those who excel in virtue wishes to rescue those enslaved by deception for a life of philosophy and freedom, the one who—as the Apostle says—plots against our souls with various stratagems, knows how to array the sophistries of deception against the divine law. I say these things C looking toward the Egyptian dragons, that is to say, toward the varied evils of deception, the destruction of which is accomplished by the rod of Moses, concerning which the things that are reasonable have already been considered in moderation. This man, then, possessing that unconquerable rod of virtue, which causes the sophistry-laden rods to vanish, proceeds in a set way and order toward greater miracles. But the performance of miracles does not take place for the purpose of striking those who encounter them with astonishment, but rather looks toward the benefit of those being saved. For by the same miracles of virtue, the enemy is overthrown, but those who are of the same race are increased. Let us first learn the general objective of the individual miracles according to their nature; then it will be possible for us to apply the meaning to the individual cases. For the teaching of the truth changes D according to the dispositions of those who receive the Word. For since the Word equally sets forth to all what is to be sought and what is to be shunned, he who listens and obeys walks in the light and has an illuminated mind; but for the one who is disposed in opposition, and who does not admit the light of the truth to shine into his soul, the darkness of ignorance remains. If, then, the general truth we grasp in such matters is not false, it must be considered that it holds true in exactly the same way regarding specific cases, since through the narrative itself what had to be inquired into in part has simultaneously become known. Wherefore it is not incredible that the Jews suffered no harm, even though they dwelt together with the Egyptians who were being plagued, since even now it is possible to see the same thing happening. For of those who dwell in the populous
cities and are divided by contrary opinions, for some the stream of faith is drinkable and clear, which they draw through divine instruction; but for others, who through evil judgment imitate the wickedness of the Egyptians, the water becomes blood, the source of corruption. And often the sophistry of deceit attempts to make A even the drink of the Hebrews blood, through the contagion of falsehood; that is, to make our word seem to us not such as it truly is. But it will not render our drink useless at all, even if it might easily defile the appearance through deceit. For the Hebrew drinks the true water, and even if it is plausibly slandered by adversaries, he is in no way turned aside by the form of that deceit.
Thus also, the race of frogs, deformed and clamorous, whose life is amphibious, whose leaping is crawling (and unpleasant not only in appearance, but also in the stench of their skin), which creeps into the houses and beds and storehouses of the Egyptians, while it does not touch the life of the Hebrews. For in truth, they are clearly races of frogs—the soul-corrupting offspring of wickedness—born from the filthy heart of men as if from some mire. These frogs dwell in the houses of those who live like Egyptians, according to their choice of life; they appear also on tables, they are not absent from beds, and they slip into storage cabinets. For when you see a filthy and unrestrained life, truly born from mud and mire, and through the imitation of the irrational, remaining in a form of life that is exactly in neither nature—being man according to nature, but becoming a beast through passion, and on account of this showing a form of life that is B amphibious and shifting between both—you will find in this person also the marks of such a disease, not only on the bed but also on the table, and in the storage cabinets, and throughout the whole dwelling. For such a person signals his dissipation in everything, so that everyone can easily recognize the life of the unrestrained and the pure through the things zealously sought in his house.
For when, in such a house, the incentives of passionate pleasure are displayed upon the wall plaster through the skill of certain images—through which the nature of the disease is brought to mind, with the passion invading the soul through the eyes from the shame of the spectacles—on the other hand, the temperate person exercises every precaution and foresight to keep even his eye pure from passionate sights. And the table of the temperate person is likewise pure, while that of the one who wallows in a muddy life is found to be swarming with frogs and heavy. And if you should examine his storage cabinets—that is, the hidden and secret things of his life—you will perceive a much greater heap of frogs in the lives of the unrestrained. C But if the rod of virtue is said by the history to do these things against the Egyptians, let us not be surprised at the account; for the history says that the tyrant had been hardened by God. How then could he be judged, being disposed in a hard and resistant way by the power from above? And the divine Apostle says something similar: that because they did not approve to have God in
A knowledge, God delivered them into passions of dishonor, speaking of the sodomites and those who behave indecently in ways of debauchery that are shameful and unspeakable. But even if what is said is expressed in this way by divine Scripture, God does not give the one carried toward this over to the passion of dishonor, nor is Pharaoh hardened by a divine will, nor is the life of frogs fashioned by virtue. For if this were a matter of choice for the divine nature, such a disposition would surely have prevailed equally in all, so that no difference between virtue and vice in life would be perceived. But since different people participate in life in different ways—some being perfected through virtue, others flowing down into vice—no one could reasonably attribute the differences in lives to certain overriding necessities established by the divine will, whereas the power of choice has the mastery over each individual.
Who, then, is delivered to the passion of dishonor? We can clearly learn from the Apostle: the one who did not deem it proper to have God in knowledge, whom God, not defending him because he did not recognize God as God, delivers to the passion. Not recognizing God becomes for him the cause of being dragged down into a life of passion and dishonor. For just as if someone were to say that because a man did not see the sun, he therefore fell into a pit, we would not think that the luminary, being angry, pushed into the pit the one who did not want to look at it, but rather we would understand the statement B reasonably: that not participating in the light is the cause of the fall into the pit for the one who does not see. So it would be pious also to understand the Apostle's statement, that those who did not recognize God are delivered to the passions of dishonor, and that the Egyptian tyrant was hardened by God, not as though divine will implanted the anti-type in the soul of Pharaoh, but as though the choice, through its inclination toward vice, did not receive the logic that softens the anti-type. Thus also the rod of virtue, when it appeared among the Egyptians, makes the Hebrew clean of the frog-like life, but shows the Egyptian life to be full of such a disease.
But there are times when Moses stretches out his hands also on their behalf, and a destruction of the frogs occurs. This is something that can be known to be happening even now. For those who grasp the stretching out of the hands of the lawgiver—and you will surely understand that the riddle speaks to you, when you understand through the lawgiver the true Lawgiver, and through the stretching out of the hands, the One who stretched out his hands on the Cross—those, then, who have been living for a little while with these filthy and C frog-like reasonings, if they look to the One who stretched out his hands for our sake, are delivered from their wicked indwelling, the passion having been put to death and cast off. For truly, to those liberated from such a disease, D
A the memory of their former life becomes something strange and foul, causing the soul to feel disgust through shame, as the Apostle says to those who pass from the change of evil to virtue: "What fruit had you then in those things of which you are now ashamed?" Understand for me, according to this reasoning, also the air darkened for the eyes of the Egyptians by the rod, but illumined by the sun for the Hebrews.
By this, our proposed line of reasoning is especially confirmed: that it is not some external, compelling power from God that causes one person to be in darkness and another in light, but rather that we humans possess within ourselves, in our own nature and choice, the causes of both light and darkness, becoming whichever of these we desire. For indeed, according to the history, it was not because some wall or boundary obstructed their vision and warded off the rays that the Hebrews enjoyed the light, while the others were insensible to the grace; thus, the bright life being set before all equally by the power of choice, some walk in darkness, being driven toward the gloom of wickedness through evil practices, while others are illumined by the light of virtue. If, however, after the three-day affliction in darkness, the participation in light comes also to the Egyptians, perhaps someone, starting from these things, might lead the thought to the transition from evil to virtue, by the recognition of the crucified One and by repentance, for those who previously lived in the manner of the Egyptians. For that "palpable darkness," as the history says, has a great kinship in both word and meaning with the darkness of ignorance and sin. And both of these are released by Moses (as we understood in the passage before this) stretching out his hands on behalf of those who were in darkness.
Likewise, that ash from the furnace, which brought swelling ulcers and intolerable pains upon the Egyptians, might be understood by the enigma of the name of the furnace as representing the punishment threatened by fire in Gehenna—that fire which afflicts only the Egyptians, that is (as we have said many times), those who live wickedly and do not adore the stretching out of the hands of Christ. But if anyone is truly an Israelite, B and a son of Abraham, and looks to him in his life so as to show by his choice the kinship of his race with the elect, he is guarded from that furnace-like pain. And there might someday come to those others, too, the interpretation of the stretching out of the hands of Moses, which has been given, bringing the healing of the pain and deliverance from the punishments. As for those tiny gnats, which pain the Egyptians with invisible bites; the dog-fly, which nests painfully in their bodies through its bite; the destruction of the crops brought to ruin by the locusts; and the fires from above falling down C together with the hailstones—it would not be difficult, in truth, for one who follows the sequence and applies it to the appropriate meanings, to adapt these things appropriately to our proposal, namely that the Egyptian choice performs everything by its own prior initiative, while the impartial justice of God inflicts them.
Pursuing this, let us understand that the painful things do not come from God to those who are worthy of such things, but rather that each person becomes the creator of his own wounds, through his own D
addressing such a person: "According to thy hardness and impenitent heart treasurest up unto thyself wrath against the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God, who will render to every man according to his deeds." A For just as when harmful and pernicious humors are hidden in the breast and bowels, the physician is not blamed for having caused them himself, if by his art he has compelled them to be vomited out, but the disordered diet brought them about, while the medical science merely brought them to light; so, even if the painful retribution is said to come from God to those whose choice is evil, it is reasonable to understand that we ourselves provide the beginnings and causes of such sufferings. For to him who has lived without sin, there is no darkness, no worm, no Gehenna, no fire, no other thing that is terrible in name and reality, just as the history itself also testifies, in that the Egyptian plagues did not reach the Hebrews. B If, therefore, in the same place, for one it is an evil, and for the other it is not, the difference between the choices in the circumstances proves each case; it would be manifest that none of the evils can exist without our own choice.
But let us proceed to the next part of our discussion, having learned so much from what has been examined: that Moses himself, and anyone who like him elevates himself through virtue, when by long and great exercises in living well he has confirmed himself, and has encircled and fortified his soul with the higher vision, then he considers it a great loss if men of the same nature serve sin, and he will work to become for them a leader to freedom; and when he has come to them, by the comparison and setting forth of worse things, he will implant in their minds an immense desire for liberty, and finally, intending to lead them out from evil, he brings death upon every first-born of the Egyptians. C For by this, he legislates to us that we must cause the first genesis of evil to vanish; for otherwise it is not possible to escape the Egyptian life. And it seems to me fitting that this understanding should not be passed over unobserved. For if one looks only at the history, how will the god-befitting concept be preserved for those things which are said to have happened? The Egyptian does injustice, and instead of him, his new-born infant is punished, who by reason of the imperfection of its age has no discernment of what is good or otherwise; its life is outside of the passion of wickedness. For infancy does not contain the passion; it does not know the difference between the right and the left; it looks only to the nursing breast; it has one significant sensation of what causes pain, which is crying; and if it chances upon something that its nature desires, it signals its pleasure with a smile. This [infant] pays the penalty for the father’s wickedness. D Where is justice? Where is piety? Where is holiness? Where is Ezekiel crying out that "The soul that sinneth, it shall die," and that "The son shall not bear the iniquity of his father"? How then does the history contradict reason? But what evil befalls them if the [infant] children escaped the wicked life of their fathers, and the parents were chastened by the grief of an untimely death
A have been admonished? Although, indeed, I would not doubt that many things in those ancient times were done not so much for the sake of the present, under which they were performed, as for the sake of the future, for whose benefit they are understood to have been more deeply derived. What then are we taught by the figure of this history? That it is necessary to uproot the first thoughts and the first beginnings of sin, and the first paths. For he who has destroyed the beginnings has at the same time destroyed what follows from them, just as the Lord teaches us through the Gospel, warning us with almost a clear voice that we should slay the firstborn of the Egyptian evils, while He commands that we extinguish cupidity and anger entirely, and no longer fear the pollution of adultery or the crime of homicide; for never can anything of these arise, unless one originates from anger and the other from cupidity.
B He who destroys the firstborn also destroys the offspring that is born from the firstborn. Just as in killing a serpent, he who has crushed and struck the head has mortified the whole body that is pulled along from the head, which can in no way ever happen unless blood is poured out on the doors, which easily repels the striker. Let us compile this dual lesson into one: for thus it is explained more correctly and exquisitely. By the slaughter of the firstborn and the guarding of the doorposts through blood, we learn both that the first appetitions of vices are to be removed, and that we are to repel the first access of vices against us through the true Lamb; for the Law does not command us to cast out the striker once he has entered, but to take care that he may C not enter at all. The precaution and safeguard is safe: that we should anoint the lintel and the doorposts with the blood of the Lamb. Thus does that Law instruct us through riddles, as also the doctrine of the world philosophizes. For philosophers divide the soul into the rational, the concupiscible, and the irascible: of these, the two latter—I mean the irascible and the concupiscible—they say are subordinate, and both support the rational, while the rational is yoked to both, containing both and being supported by both, so that it may be excited and strengthened by anger for acting bravely, and by concupiscence for the enjoyment of the good. As long, therefore, as the soul protects itself in this order, having stability through right thoughts as though by certain nails, maintaining this order of these three, one is helped by the other regarding the cultivation of virtue; for reason directs the power of anger and cupidity toward the good, and is corroborated by them, as we have said. D But if this order should be reversed, and what ought to be above is made subject, and the power of desiring and becoming angry tramples upon reason, having cast it from its place, then the striker enters, then no power of the blood resists him; for faith in Christ profits nothing to those who are corrupted by the perversion of this order. For He commands that first the lintel be anointed, then both doorposts be stained with blood. How then will you be able to fortify reason first with faith in Christ, when you are commanded to seek it above? If you do not find it above in its own place, certainly in no way [will you find it]. Nor let it disturb you, that
A the slaughter of the firstborn and the sprinkling of the blood have not both transpired for the Israelites; for neither should you on this account cast away the theory offered concerning the slaughter of evil as having been discovered outside the truth. For now, through the difference of the names, both the Israelite and the Egyptian, we have understood the difference between virtue and vice. If, then, the anagoge (or spiritual interpretation) proposes to understand the virtuous man as the Israelite, one would not rationally seek for the beginnings of the offspring of virtue to be slaughtered, but rather those whose disappearance is more beneficial than their upbringing. Thus, we have learned from God that the beginnings of the Egyptian race must be destroyed, so that evil might fail, being consumed together with the destruction of its beginning. And the meaning fits the history: for the Israelite offspring, the protection comes through the sprinkling of the blood, so that the good may come to perfection. But that which, when perfected, would result in the Egyptian populace, that is destroyed before its completion in evil. B And the things that follow, when taken along with this contemplation of the Word, contribute to our proposed anagoge. For it desires that our food be the body from which the blood was shed—the blood which shields us from the destroyer of the Egyptians, as it is seen upon the entrances. And the manner of those participating in this food is to be intense and hurried, not like what is seen at the banquets of the pleasure-seekers, where hands are relaxed, the folds of garments are loose, and feet are free of traveling gear, but on the contrary, everything is the opposite. Feet are braced with sandals, the belt tightens the flowing tunic, and in the hand is the staff for defense against dogs. And in this state, the eating is added to them, without any savory seasoning, prepared on the fire just as it happened in haste, which the guests consume greedily with all speed, until the entire body of the animal is used up; and, eating whatever flesh adheres to the bones, they do not touch what is inside. For to shatter the bones of this animal is among the things forbidden, C and whatever of the meal remains is to be consumed by fire. From all of which it is manifest that the Scripture looks toward a higher intelligence, not instructing us on the mode of eating (for nature, which implants in us the appetite for food, is a sufficient lawgiver for such things), but that something else is signified through these. For what would it matter for virtue or vice, to have partaken of the food in this way or that—unbound or bound by a belt, bare-footed or wearing sandals, holding a staff in the hand or setting it aside? But it would be clear what things the preparation of the traveler’s attire indicates by way of an enigma. For it commands us to recognize this life openly, how we are passing through the present
A age as if on a journey, and, immediately upon being born, are compelled by a certain necessity toward the departure; for which we must be prepared with hands and feet and the rest of our equipment for the journey. Lest, therefore, our feet be injured by the thorns of this life (and thorns may represent sins) while we are naked and unprotected, we should put forward the toughness of our footwear B to protect our feet. This is the temperate and hardened life, which through itself breaks and snaps off the points of the thorns and prevents sin, from a thin and obscure beginning, from creeping inward. And the tunic that covers the feet and hangs down to the ground would be an impediment to one who is running this course with haste. By the tunic, following the same logic, we might understand the expansiveness of the pleasures pursued in this life, which the temperate mind draws in C to a narrow compass, becoming a belt for the traveler. That the belt represents temperance is confirmed by the manner in which life is lived. The staff for defending against wild beasts is the discourse of hope, with which we both prop up the soul when it grows drowsy and defend against it when it barks. As for the food set before us from the fire—I mean that warm and burning faith—we receive it without delay; and, having eaten as much as is readily available to the eater, we leave what is hidden to the D more solid and difficult-to-crush thoughts and to the word, leaving the food that is such as this to the fire and setting it aside, free from curiosity and meddlesomeness. And that the enigmas concerning these things may be made clear, we say this: that of the divine commands, those that possess an obvious understanding should not be approached sluggishly or as if under compulsion, but as if we were hungry, we should partake of what is set before us with appetite, so that the food may become to us an aid to vitality. But whatever of the concepts is hidden—such as seeking what is the essence of God, or what was before the creation, or what is beyond the visible, or what is the necessity of things that come into being, and whatever else of this sort is investigated by the curious—we must concede these to the Holy Spirit alone, who searches out the deep things of God, as the Apostle says. For that fire is often mentioned and named in the Scripture in place of the Spirit, no one instructed in the Scriptures would be ignorant. The commandment of Wisdom also leads us to such an understanding: "Search not for things mightier than yourself," which means: do not crush the bones of the word, for you have no need of the hidden things.
Thus Moses leads the people out B of Egypt; and everyone who follows the footprints of Moses in this way liberates all from the tyranny of the Egyptian sin whom the word guides. And it is necessary, I think, for those who follow such a leader
A neither to be destitute of the Egyptian wealth, nor to be lacking in the treasures of the foreigners, but to take everything that belongs to the adversaries and have it in usage among themselves; which is what the people were commanded by Moses to do at that time. Now, if one were to understand this in a superficial way, they would not accept the mind of the lawgiver, seeing as he commands them to defraud those who lent to them and becomes a leader in injustice. But not even according to the truth would anyone say that the lawgiver prescribes such things, looking to the subsequent laws, which everywhere forbid injustice against one’s neighbor, even if to some the deed may seem reasonable, namely, that the Israelites should exact their wages from the Egyptians through such a scheme. For it is no less a crime for such a commandment not to be kept free from falsehood and deceit. For he who has taken something as a loan and does not return it to the one who lent it, if it be another’s property, has acted unjustly as a plunderer; but if he retains what was his own, by having deceived the one who lent it in the hope of receiving it back, he is in every way called a deceiver. Therefore, a deeper understanding is more appropriate than the literal interpretation, which commands those who pursue a life of freedom through virtue to acquire also the wealth of external education, with which those who are alien to the faith adorn themselves. B For moral and natural philosophy, geometry and astronomy, and logical discourse, and all things studied by those outside of the Church, the leader of virtue commands us to receive from those who are wealthy in such things in Egypt, on the principle of usage, as things which are useful in time, when it is necessary for the divine temple of the mystery to be adorned by means of rational wealth. For those who treasure up such wealth for themselves offer to Moses, who is laboring over the tabernacle of testimony, what each man has for himself, contributing to the construction of the holy things; which is something we see happening even now. Many offer external education to the Church of God as a kind of gift, just as the great Basil did, who, having excellently acquired Egyptian wealth in his youth, and having consecrated it to God, adorned with such wealth the true tabernacle of the Church.
C But let us return to the point from which we digressed. Those, therefore, who cultivate virtue, and follow the lawgiver in their life, when they have crossed the borders of the Egyptian dominion, are beset by many incursions of temptations, whence many afflictions, terrors, and dangers concerning life itself arise, by which the minds of those who have recently been grounded in the faith are terrified and driven into total despair of all good things. But if Moses, or any such overseer of the people, happens to be present, he will oppose their terror with counsel, D strengthening their minds, which have been seized by fear, with the hope of divine aid; which could not happen were the heart of the one who presides not speaking to God. For to most of those who are set in such positions of authority, the concern is only that what appears externally should be well-ordered; but of the hidden things, which are seen only by God,
to God alone is perceived, the word becomes sparse. A But in the case of Moses it was not so; rather, while he exhorts the Israelites to be of good courage, though he utters no audible voice to God, he is attested by God himself as crying out. The Word, I suppose, teaches that such a voice is resonant and reaches as far as the divine ears by its magnitude, being conceived, not by the contention of a shout, but by the meditation of a pure conscience.
And for one who is in such a state, the brother already appears to be no small aid for the struggle of those who are considered to be in conflict—that brother who, by divine will, had met Moses as he was descending from the mountain, whom the Word understood in the rank of an angel. But then occurs the manifestation of the transcendent nature, appearing in such a way as the recipient can contain it; a thing which we hear from history happened then, and we learn from the contemplation of the Word that it happens always. B For when someone flees the Egyptian, and, having become outside the boundaries, fears the assaults of temptations, the Guide shows him from above the salvation that comes beyond all expectation, when the enemy, having surrounded the one who is being pursued with his own power, fashioned for him, through necessity, the sea—into which the Guide, the cloud (for this is the name for the one who leads, which has been well taken by those before us for the grace of the Holy Spirit), leads the way. Through whom the guidance toward the good happens for those who are worthy; and following him, one crosses the water, the Guide paving the path through it; through whom safety for freedom is secured, as the one who pursues into slavery disappears in the water.
For who does not know that the Egyptian army is the various passions of the soul, by which man is enslaved? Those horses, those chariots, and those cavalrymen upon them, archers, and slingers, and men-at-arms, and the rest of the crowd of the enemy's array. For what would one say differs from the mentioned army regarding the irascible thoughts, or the impulses toward pleasure, grief, and greed? Calumny is quite clearly a stone from a sling, and the irascible impulse is a spear shaking its point; let the passion concerning pleasures be understood as the horses, dragging the chariot by themselves with a certain unbridled impulse, in which are the three riders, whom history calls "tristatae." C You will surely understand these three, who are carried by the chariot, having been previously taught in the mystery of the stages and the doorpost, reflecting the thought upon the tripartite division of the soul: into the rational, the appetitive, and the irascible.
All these things, then, and whatever is akin to them, tumble together with the leader of the wicked assault upon the Israelite into the water; over which the nature of the water, with faith—represented by the rod—leading the way, and the illuminating cloud, becomes life-giving for those who flee to it, but destructive for those who pursue. D Regarding which the history instructs through these things, such as
A what sort of people we ought to be after the passage of the water; for nothing of the enemy's army, which went into the water with us, should be drawn out with us when we emerge. For whoever emerges from the water together with the enemy, since he did not drown the enemy in the water but led him out alive with him, has remained in servitude even after the water. And it is something of this nature, that it may be explained more fully, that it is necessary for all who cross the sacramental water of baptism to put to death the entire army of vices in the water, such as avarice, a rapacious mind, luxury, lust, pride, elation of soul, wrath, envy, and all such things. And not only the affections of the vices, but also the movements and perturbations of the soul, which in a way follow the nature of men, we ought, as far as it is possible, to leave submerged in the water. For as he also said regarding the Passover (for that is the name of the victim, whose blood repels death from those who use it), he commands that unleavened bread be eaten. Now, that which is unleavened is that which does not have leaven mixed with it, a thing which in time becomes rancid. By this means he taught that we should not mix the remnants of vices into the life that follows faith, but that we should begin to live as if from another beginning, breaking the series of sinning that had continued up to the time of faith: so, in this place, he provided in fact that the whole of Egypt—that is, every form of sinning—should be submerged in the water, so that we might emerge from it alone, without sin. We read that this happened historically, that the enemies were killed in the waters, and the Jews alone escaped from it. But many, either through ignorance of the precepts of the law or through rashness and inconstancy, carry the sordid leaven of their former life into their later life, and lead the savage soldiers of Egypt with them after baptism. For those who have been enriched by rapine, or possess booty obtained by perjury, or have taken wives through adultery, or have committed anything forbidden before the gift of baptism, if they think that through the grace of the bath they are freed from these sins while they persist in the injury, they are grievously mistaken, and cannot understand that they are serving, as if bound, the most harsh masters. For luxury is a cruel and rabid mistress, goading the servile mind with the stimuli of lust. D Another no less cruel mistress is avarice: for she is accustomed to provide no rest at all to those who serve her, but the more they seek by the labors and tortures of day and night to satisfy the command of their mistress and to fulfill their cupidity, the more they are tormented, as if they had done nothing, and they are found to be more empty and famished. In the same way the other vices dominate: and he who is enslaved to them, even though he may have descended into the water, has not yet, in my opinion, touched the sacramental water, the proper effect of which is the destruction of the pernicious tyrant and his army.
A But let us proceed again to the succeeding parts of the account. For one who has crossed the sea which we have intellectually grasped, and has seen within it that Egyptian we spoke of dead, no longer looks only to Moses, the bearer of the rod of virtue, but believes primarily in God, as the history’s narrative says, and he obeys His servant Moses. And we see the same thing happening even now in the case of those who truly cross the water: those who have dedicated themselves to God, and who obey those who serve the Divine through the priesthood, submit and comply, as the Apostle says.
Following the sea, there is a journey of three days, in which they encamped in a certain place where the water they found was, at first, undrinkable because of its bitterness; but when the wood was cast into it, it made the water pleasant for those who were thirsty. The history corresponds perfectly to what happens to those undergoing this experience. For to one who has renounced the Egyptian pleasures which he served before crossing the sea, the life that is separated from such pleasures seems, at first, B difficult and distasteful. But if the wood is cast into the water—that is, if someone receives the mystery of the resurrection, which had its beginning through the wood (and when you hear "wood," you surely understand the Cross), then the life according to virtue becomes sweeter and more drinkable than any sweetness that tickles the senses with pleasure, being seasoned most pleasantly by the hope of things to come.
The lodging place that follows in the journey, adorned with palms and springs, provides rest for the toil of the travelers. There were twelve springs of clear and most sweet water; and seventy palms, wonderful in size and tall-crowned, the trees having been raised to such height by time. What, then, do we find in this, as the history advances in order? That the mystery of the wood, through which the water of virtue becomes drinkable for the thirsty, leads us to the twelve springs and to the seventy palms—that is, to the teaching of the Gospel, in which the twelve springs are the apostles, for the Lord chose just that many to serve this need, and caused the word to flow through them. Thus one of the prophets also foretold the grace flowing from the apostles, when he says: "Bless God the Lord in the churches, from the springs of Israel." C And the seventy palms would be the apostles ordained throughout the whole world, beyond the twelve disciples, being of a number corresponding to the count of the palms which the history narrates.
But I believe it is proper to hasten the journey through this account, having made the contemplation of the remaining encampments easy for those who are more diligent, by means of what we have already set forth. The encampments signify virtues, in which he who follows the pillar of the cloud encamps and rests in order. Skipping over the intermediate lodging places for the sake of the discourse, I shall mention the miracle concerning the rock, whose nature—hard and solid D—became drink to those who were thirsty, the antitype being turned into the softness of water. Although it is not difficult for anagogical speculation to adapt and connect the sequence of the history. For one who has seen the Egyptian dead in the waters
and made sweet by the wood, and enjoyed the apostolic A fountains, and rested under the shade of the palms, he already becomes capable of receiving God. For the rock, as the Apostle says (1 Cor. x, 4), is Christ, dry and excessively hard to unbelievers; but if anyone brings the staff of faith, it becomes drink to the thirsty, and flows within those who receive it. "For I," he says, "and my Father will come, and we will make our abode with him" (John xiv, 23). It is worth while also not to pass by this unobserved, that after crossing the sea, and having the water made sweet for the wayfarers of virtue, and after that delicate life, the one according to the springs and the palms, and after drinking from the rock, then at last a total failure of the Egyptian provisions occurs. And so, with no alien food remaining to them, which they had brought with them from Egypt, food flows down from above, being at once B varied and uniform. For that which appeared was uniform, but the quality had the variety, becoming adapted to each one according to the kind of their desire. What then do we learn from this? To what extent it is fitting for one to purify himself from the Egyptian and alien life; so as to empty the soul's reservoir of all the food of wickedness which the Egyptians prepare, and thus to receive into a pure soul the food coming down from above; which no seed sown for us by agriculture produced, but it is a ready-made bread, seedless and unplowed, descending from above, but found on the earth. And you certainly understand this true food through the riddle of the history, that the bread which came down from heaven is not an incorporeal thing. For how C could that which is incorporeal become food for a body? But that which is not incorporeal is altogether a body. But the body of this bread neither plowing nor sowing cultivated, but the earth remained as it is and is found full of this divine food, of which the hungry partake, being instructed through the mystery of the Virgin by the wonder-working of this. This bread, therefore, which is not cultivated, is also the Word, changing its power according to the variety of its quality, in accordance with the capacities of those who eat. For it knows how not only to be bread, but also to become milk, and flesh, and vegetable, and whatever may be appropriate and pleasing to the one partaking, as he who prepared for us such a table, Paul the divine apostle, teaches, D who makes the Word a more solid and meaty food for the more perfect, a vegetable for those who are weaker, and milk for those who are infants. All the wonders which the history recounts concerning that food are dogmas for a life lived according to virtue. For it says that the partaking of the food was set before all equally, with no difference in the power of those gathering it, neither exceeding according to need, nor falling short. And this is, in my opinion, a certain precept, instructing all in common, not to take more than
what is sufficient for nature, from these material things for the cause of living, but to know well that there is one standard of food for all: the daily enjoyment. In which, even if amounts much greater than the need be prepared, the belly has not the nature to exceed its own measures, nor does it expand along with the greed of the preparation. But, just as the history says, neither did he who received much have a surplus—for he had nowhere to store the excess—nor did he who gathered little fall short; for the need, being contracted A and measured, was made commensurate to what was received. But since, if anyone, out of a foolish desire for hoarding, stored any of that food for the morrow, it is said that the whole thing was transformed into worms—the word, as if with a certain trumpet, cries out to the greedy by these things, that everything beyond the need, contained by this covetous passion, becomes in the following day—that is to say, in the life that is looked for—a worm for him who stored it. And he who hears understands, by all means, through this worm, the unending worm which is brought to life through greed. B That the deposit which was kept only on the Sabbath remained unharmed, contains a certain counsel of this kind: that then we must use a covetous disposition, in those things where that which is gathered does not admit corruption; that it becomes useful to us, when, having passed by the preparation of this life, we come to be in the inaction after death. For the day before the Sabbath is and is called the Preparation for the Sabbath. This life, indeed, may be that in which we prepare for ourselves the things of the life to come; in which no work of those now permitted to us is performed—no agriculture, no commerce, no military service, nor any other thing of those matters eagerly pursued here, nor anything at all. But, dwelling in total inaction from such works, we are thought to reap the fruits of the seeds cast down by us now throughout our life—immortal fruits, if the seeds of this life were good, but destructive and deadly if our tillage of this life had produced such seeds. For he who sows in the Spirit, he says, will from the Spirit reap eternal life; but he who sows in the flesh will from the flesh reap corruption. C But the preparation for that which is better is alone properly called "the Preparation" (parasceve); and it is confirmed by the Law, whose deposit is incorruption. But that which is understood from the opposite would be called, not a preparation, but a loss of preparation. Therefore the history prescribes to men only the preparation made for the better, leaving the opposite for the intelligent to perceive through omission. And just as in military rolls, the leader of the campaign first provides the provisions, and then gives the signal for battle, in the same way also the soldiers of virtue, having received the mystic provisions, thus move the war against the aliens, with Jesus, the successor of Moses, leading the battle. Do you see through what sequence the account proceeds? Do you see how everything agrees with our proposal? To the extent that a man is weak, being oppressed by the wicked tyranny, he does not defend himself from the enemy through his own power—for he cannot. But there is another who fights for the weak, the
one who can strike the enemy with frequent and great wounds. B But once he is delivered from the slavery of the rulers, and has been sweetened by the wood, and has rested in the cooling shade of the palm trees, and has known the mystery of the rock, and has partaken of the heavenly food, then he no longer defends himself against the enemy through the hand of another. Instead, as one who has already passed beyond the age of childhood and reached the vigor of youth, he joins battle with his adversaries himself, using as his leader not Moses, the servant of God, but God himself, of whom Moses became a servant. For the Law, which was given from the beginning in the figure and shadow of things to come, remains unassailable in the true struggles, but it is the fulfiller of the Law who leads the battle—the successor of Moses, who is proclaimed long beforehand by the very name of the leader of the Hebrews.
As for the people, if they see the hands of the lawgiver raised, they become superior to the enemy in the battle line; but if they see them lowered, they give way. C The lifting up of the hands of Moses on high indicates the accommodation of the Law to the most sublime spiritual meanings; the lowering of them to the ground signifies a low and groveling interpretation and observance of the Law according to the letter. That the priest supports the heavy hands of Moses, using as a helper one joined to him by kinship, is not foreign to the deeper sense that we are pursuing. For true priesthood, through the Word of God joined to it, raises back to the heights the activities of the Law—which had, by the heaviness of the Jewish way of thinking, been cast down to the earth—and supports the falling Law upon the rock, so that it stands upright through the form of the stretching out of the hands, showing its own goal to those who look upon it. For truly, to those able to see into the Law, the mystery of the cross is manifested almost everywhere, as the Gospel also says, that "one iota or one dot will not pass away from the law"—indicating by these words both the horizontal line and the perpendicular and upright one, by which the shape of the cross is traced, showing through the iota and the dot. D This thing, then, beheld in Moses—who is understood to stand for the Law itself—provided victory to those looking upon it.
But again, by a certain process of continuous ascent, Reason leads our intellect toward the higher things of virtue. For he who has been refreshed by food, and has borne himself bravely in battle, and has struck down the enemy, is then brought to that ineffable knowledge of God. History, therefore, teaches us through all these things how many and how great the deeds are which one must perform in life in order to dare to ascend the mountain of the knowledge of God in one's mind, and to endure the sound of the trumpets, and to enter into the darkness where God is, and to receive the divine precepts inscribed on tablets; and if these are broken by the sin of someone, to bring forth other, hand-crafted tablets to God, and to have engraved again by the divine finger the characters of the letters that had been there at the first. But it would be better, following the order of history, to adapt the anagogical sense. For he who looks toward Moses and the cloud, by which two things men are led to virtue, so that...
in this regard Moses is the legal commandments and the cloud is the guide that precedes the law; he who has been purified in his mind during the passage through the water, having put to death and cast off from himself the alien, will taste of Marah—that is, a life separated from pleasures—which, although it seems bitter and unpleasant to those who first taste it, provides sweetness to those who have accepted the wood for sense perception. Then, having enjoyed the beauties of the Gospel palms and fountains, and having been filled with the living water, which is the Rock, that is, Christ; having taken the heavenly bread into himself, and having acted bravely against the aliens, for which the cause of victory is the stretching forth of the hands of the lawgiver—which prefigures the mystery of the cross—he is then brought to the contemplation of the transcendent nature. And the way to such knowledge for him becomes purity, not only of the body, which has been cleansed by certain sprinklings, but also of the garments, which have been all washed clean of every stain by the water. And this means that he who is about to approach the contemplation of existing things must be pure through and through, so as to be clean and spotless in both soul and body, having appropriately washed away the filth from each, so that we may appear B clean both to Him who sees the hidden things, and so that the outward appearance may correspond to the disposition within the soul. For this reason, before the ascent to the mountain, the garments are washed by divine command, the enigma of the garments signifying to us the honorable clothing of one's life. For one could not say that this perceptible filth of the garments would be an obstacle to the ascent for those who are ascending to God; but I believe that "garment" is rightly used to designate the outward covering of one's pursuits in this life. When this has been accomplished, and the herd of irrational animals has been driven far from the mountain, he then proceeds to the ascent of the high contemplations. That no irrational animals are permitted to appear on the mountain signifies, in our opinion, the transcendence of knowledge derived from sense perception in the contemplation of intelligible things; for it is the characteristic of the nature of irrational animals to be governed by sense perception alone, without the intellect. They are led by sight, and hearing often excites their impulse. And all other things C through which sense perception becomes active have a large place in irrational animals. But the contemplation of God is not practiced through sight, nor through hearing, nor is it grasped by any of the customary concepts; for "eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man" the things that exist. But he who is about to approach the understanding of high things must, in the same way, purify his mind of every sensual and irrational movement, and having washed away from his intellect every opinion that has arisen from some preconception, and having separated himself from the habitual intercourse with his own consort—that is, from sense perception, which is in a way joined to our nature and dwells with us—and having become pure of this, he must then dare to approach the mountain. For the mountain is truly steep D and difficult of access.
A Theologia is that to which the great multitude can scarcely reach the foothills. But if one should be a Moses, he might also arrive at the ascent, receiving in his hearing the sounds of the trumpets—which, as the account of history says, become stronger as they proceed. Truly, the trumpet that strikes the hearing is the proclamation concerning the divine nature; resounding as something great even from the beginning, but sounding greater and more striking to the ear in the final stages. The Law and the Prophets sounded the divine mystery of the economy of the Incarnation; but those first voices were too weak to move an untractable hearing. Therefore, the deafness of the Jews did not receive the sound of the trumpets. But as the account says, the trumpets, as they progressed, became stronger. For the final voices, which were made through the evangelical proclamations, reached the hearing; thus did the Spirit B sound more nobly through the instruments in the stages that followed, making the resonance more vigorous. The instruments and organs that produce one spiritual sound are the prophets and apostles; of whom, as the Psalmodist says, Their sound went out into all the earth, and their words to the ends of the world. And if the multitude cannot contain the voice that comes from above, but commits it to Moses—that he might perceive those secrets himself and afterward teach the people whatever doctrine he has learned through the instruction from above—this too is what we see being done in the Church: for it is not permitted for all to force themselves into the knowledge of mysteries, but one is chosen from among the many who is capable of divine things, to whom the others offer their hearing with obedience, deeming it necessary to believe and do what they hear from him who has been initiated. "For not all," he says, "are apostles, nor are all prophets." But this is not observed in many of the Churches today. For many, not yet having wiped away the stain of their former life—themselves unwashed and clothed in the sordid garment of their manner of living—making more of their irrational senses than of all else, dare to seize this divine ascent, whence C they are stoned by their own thoughts. For the opinions of heretics are indeed stones, by which the inventors of wicked dogmas are overwhelmed. But what is meant by Moses first entering into the darkness, and then seeing God in it? For what is now related seems in some way contrary to the first vision; for then he saw the Divine in light, but now in darkness. But we do not think that this departs from the sequence of the spiritual sense (anagogē); for by this diversity of history we are taught that the knowledge of religion is a light from the beginning for those by whom it is grasped. Wherefore, that which we understand to be contrary to religion is darkness, the expulsion of which is accomplished only by the participation of light. Yet the mind of man, proceeding always toward greater and more perfect things, the more it approaches the contemplation of God, the more D it perceives that the divine nature is invisible and incomprehensible. For when it has left behind not only all things that are perceived by the senses, but even all things that are contemplated by the mind, and is always...
A moving toward the inner truth, it enters until, through the thorough searching of the intellect, it reaches the unseen and incomprehensible, and there perceives God. For true knowledge of the object of our search consists in this: in seeing therein that which is not seen, in that the object of our search surpasses all knowledge, being encompassed on all sides by the incomprehensibility as by a kind of darkness. For this reason, the exalted John, who had entered into this brilliant darkness, did not hesitate to exclaim: No one has ever seen God, defining by this negation that the knowledge of the divine essence is impossible not only for men, but for every intellectual nature as well.
Since, therefore, Moses had become greater in knowledge, B he then confesses that he saw God in the darkness—that is, he then acknowledged that the Divine, by its very nature, is that which exceeds all knowledge and comprehension. For, he says, Moses entered into the darkness where God was. Who is God? He who made darkness his hiding-place, as David sang, who was himself initiated into these same mysteries. He who has attained to that place is instructed once again through the darkness in those things for which he had been prepared by the darkness, so that, I believe, this teaching might be more firmly established for us, confirmed by the divine voice. For the divine word forbids, first of all, that the Divine be likened to any of the things known by men, since every thought that forms the divine nature through some graspable image or through some conjecture or surmise C fashion an idol of God, and does not proclaim God.
Since virtue according to piety is divided into two parts—the one concerning the Divine, and the other concerning the perfection of character—for the purity of one's life is no small part of piety, he learned first what one must know about God. And to know this was to know that God is none of the things that can be known by human comprehension. Thus, the other kind of virtue is taught, by learning in what practices a virtuous life is brought to perfection. After this, he comes to the tent not made by hands. Who shall follow one who travels through such things, and lifts his mind to such a height? For just as one taking a peak from a peak, through an ascent of high things, he always becomes higher D than himself. First, he left the foothills, having been separated from all those who grew weary of the ascent. Then he receives into his ears the sounds of the trumpets, being uplifted by the height of the ascent. Beyond these, he slides into the invisible interior of the knowledge of God; and not even in this does he remain, but he passes over to the tabernacle not made by hands. For truly, the one who is exalted through such ascents arrives at this end. It seems to me that the heavenly trumpet is a teacher for the one who is ascending toward the passage into the tent not made by hands, in another way as well. For the arrangement of the marvels in the heavens, having made manifest the wisdom to those who are there, and recounting the great glory of God from the things that are seen, according to what is said, that "the heavens declare the glory of God," this, by the clarity and sonorous sound of the teaching
A becomes a loud-sounding trumpet, as one of the prophets says that "God sounded from above." But he who is purified and sharp in the hearing of his heart, having received this sound—I mean that which arises from the contemplation of things that are—to the knowledge of the divine power, is led by it to slip through in his understanding to that place where God is. This is called "darkness" by the Scripture, which is interpreted, as has been said, as that which is unknown and invisible, in which, being present, he sees that tabernacle not made by hands, which he shows to those below through material imitation.
What, then, is that tabernacle not made by hands? It is the one shown to Moses on the mountain, to which he is commanded to look, as to an archetype, so that through the handmade construction he might reveal the miracle not made by hands. "See, for He says, that you make everything according to the pattern shown to you on the mountain." B Golden pillars resting on silver bases, and with heads likewise of silver; and again other pillars, whose heads and bases were of copper-material; but that which was between the ends was silver. For all these there was a wooden support, not subject to rot. Round about, according to appearance, the radiance of such materials was poured around, and a container likewise shining in pure gold; but the wood supporting the golden covering was also itself of a kind not subject to rot. A lampstand next, having a single base, but divided into seven branches at the top, supporting seven lamps across its branches. The material of this lampstand was purest gold, having no part of its structure hollow, nor supported by wood, but solid. Besides these there was the mercy seat, and the altar, and the so-called cherubim, with whose wings the Ark was overshadowed. C All these were of gold, not providing beauty to the surface merely, but such that it was solid, and the material extended through to the depth.
Moreover, there were curtains distinguished by a wonderful variety, and woven with an unheard-of artifice, with different colors receiving one another for the beauty of the curtains, by which the tabernacle was divided into two: into the visible part, into which priests had access, and into the more secret and hidden part. The name of the former part was "Holy," but of that hidden and secluded part, "Holy of Holies." Besides these, there were basins, and fire-pans, and the outer covering of the curtains, and veils of hair, and skins dyed with red; and whatever else the narrative recounts, who could understand with exact reason, in a spiritual sense, what things were divinely fashioned in that tabernacle? D Who shall explain what these are images and imitations of? Who shall explain what benefit those who see them obtain from this, or what they gain from the material figure of immaterial things? Be-
-Acause they have the power to examine the things of God; if indeed any such person exists, Bhe speaks mysteries in the Spirit, as the Apostle says. As for what is conjectured and suggested by us regarding the subject at hand, we leave it entirely to the judgment of the readers, and we shall neither protest if they reject it, nor exult if they accept it.
We say, therefore, having received a slight starting point from the things already mentioned—since Paul has unveiled the mystery in these matters regarding how Moses was instructed in advance in the pattern of the tabernacle which contains all—that this would be Christ, the power of God and the wisdom of God. Being uncreated according to His own nature, He accepts the task of being fashioned when the need arises for this tabernacle to be pitched within us; so that He is, in a way, both unfashioned and fashioned: unfashioned because He pre-exists and is uncreated, but fashioned because He accepts this material constitution and becomes created.
Perhaps what is being said is not obscure to those who have Caccurately embraced the mystery of our faith. For there is one [tabernacle] from out of all, He who was before the ages and who came to be at the end of the ages. He did not need to come into being in time—for how could He who is before times and ages need a temporal coming into being?—but for our sake, who through lack of counsel had corrupted our nature, He deigned to become as we are, so that He might lead back again to what is into being that which had come to be outside of being. This is the only-begotten God Himself, who contains all things within Himself, yet also pitched His own tabernacle within us. DBut let no lover of Christ be troubled if so great a reality is called a "tabernacle," as if anything were being detracted from the greatness of the nature of God by the literal implications of the term. For no other of the names is worthy of the nature of the One being signified; rather, all fall equally short of the precise meaning—even those that are thought to be small, and those in which some greatness of meaning is seen through opinion. Yet, just as all other things are spoken of piously, according to some signification, for the manifestation of the divine power—such as "physician," "shepherd," "protector," "bread," "angel," "vine," "way," "door," "dwelling," "water," "rock," "fountain," and whatever else is said concerning Him—so too, according to some divine-fitting significance, is He also designated by the term "tabernacle." For the power that contains all things, in which dwells all the fullness of the Godhead, the common shelter of the all, He who contains all things within Himself, is properly called a tabernacle. And it is necessary for the vision to be appropriate to the name, with each of the things seen guiding one to some contemplation of divine-fitting belief. Since, therefore, the great Apostle says that the flesh is the veil of the lower tabernacle—because it has its constitution, I think, from the diverse four elements—perhaps he himself, having come into a vision of the tabernacle, in the supercelestial
A inner places, to whom through the Spirit the mysteries of paradise were revealed, would do well, by attending to the partial interpretation, to harmonize the whole contemplation of the tabernacle with that part. It may become clear to us, through the very words of the Apostle, what the enigmas of the tabernacle signify. For he says somewhere concerning the Only-Begotten, whom we have called by the name of the tabernacle, that in Him all things were created, visible and invisible, whether thrones, or powers, or principalities, or dominions, or virtues.
Therefore, the silver-glittering and gold-wrought columns, and the bars, and the rings, and those cherubim which cover the ark with their wings, and all other things which the description of the tabernacle-making contains—if one looks upward while considering them—are the multitude of angels B visible in the tabernacle itself, by whom these corporeal things are sustained and covered according to the will of God. For in that tabernacle our true bars both dwell and exist, who are sent for ministry for the sake of those who are to inherit salvation, who, slipped like rings into the souls of the saved, raise up to the height of virtue those who are cast down upon the earth. But that this is a more elevated sense of Scripture in this place is evident from the fact that those material cherubim covered with their wings the mysteries which were in the ark, as the letter says. For this name is attributed to those angels, as Isaiah and Ezekiel say, who are seen around the divine majesty. But the ark of the covenant, covered by the wings of those same cherubim, is here said to signify that which is meant C in Isaiah. For as the ark is here, so there the face is affirmed to be covered by the cherubic wings. Therefore, we do not doubt that one and the same thing is signified by both. But it seems to me that the incomprehensible nature of this speculation, which concerns ineffable things, is signified enigmatically. But when you hear of the lamps, that is, the lights, which were supported by seven divisions from one base and root of the lamp-stand so that the light might shine abundantly everywhere, you will rightly understand the multiform rays of the Spirit to shine forth in this tabernacle; for Isaiah also divided the rays of the Spirit by seven divisions. But as for what the propitiatory is, I think it needs no D exposition to be understood, since the Apostle has unraveled it, who says: “whom God has set forth as a propitiatory of our souls.” And when I hear of the altar and the censer, I understand the adoration which the celestial virtues bring to this tabernacle. For he says that not only the tongue of things below and of those on earth, but also of the heavenly things, offers praise and glory to the Cause of all things: for this is the sacrifice pleasing to God, the fruit of the lips, as the Apostle says, and the odor of prayer. And if skin dyed with purple color is seen among these, and woven hair, the series of this speculation will not be disturbed. For that prophetic eye, having come into the vision of divine things, beheld there from a watchtower the saving passion of the Lord, which I do not doubt was signified by both of the things mentioned. For the redness
signifies blood, while the hair interprets death; for hair, being devoid of sensation in the body, is not unjustly called a symbol of mortality. A If, therefore, one looks upon the upper tabernacle, these are the things the prophet sees through these symbols. But if one should consider the lower tabernacle—since Christ is frequently called the Church by Paul, and Christ, as we have said, is the upper tabernacle—it is not unreasonable if anyone should judge his Church to be the lower tabernacle, in which the ministers of the divine mysteries are the pillars (whom the word also calls columns of the Church), namely the apostles, teachers, and prophets. For not only are Peter and John and James columns of the Church, nor was John the Baptist the only burning lamp, but all who support the Church by themselves and who, through their own works, become lights, are called columns and lamps. “You are the light of the world,” the Lord says to the apostles. And again, the divine Apostle urges others to be columns, saying: “Be firm and immovable.” And he fashioned Timothy as a beautiful column, making him (as he says in his own voice) the pillar and foundation of the truth of the Church. B In this tabernacle we see that the sacrifice of praise and the incense of prayer are offered at all times, in the morning and in the evening. The great David gives us to understand these things, directing the incense of prayer to God for an odor of sweetness and asserting that the raising of hands is an evening sacrifice. But as for the basins, who would doubt that they refer to those who wash away the defilement of sins through the mystical water? John was a basin, washing in the Jordan in the baptism of repentance; Peter was a basin, leading three thousand men all at once to the water. Philip, too, was the basin of the Candace, as were all who, acting as ministers of the grace, grant the gift of baptism to those who come. And as for the curtains which, connected together, encompass the tabernacle in a circle, one would not be wrong to suppose them to be the loving and peaceful concord of believers; for thus it seems David interpreted this place when he says: “Who makes your borders peace.” C The dyed skin and the coverings of hair, which contribute to the adornment of the tabernacle, will be appropriately understood if by the skin is signified the mortification of the flesh prone to sin, and by the coverings of hair a stricter and, as it were, harsher manner of living; for the Church’s tabernacle is adorned most of all by such things. For since the skins possess in themselves no vital power by nature, they appear to flourish with the color of redness, which shows that the flourishing grace of the Spirit does not dwell in a man unless he has first mortified the power of sin within himself. But if anyone should contend that modest shame is also signified by the redness of the color, I would certainly not resist. The intertwining of the hairs, making a texture that is rough and unpleasant to the touch, D indicates the austere continence that tames the passions implanted in us. All these things
the life of those who live in perpetual virginity confirms, for it thus chastises their flesh. Those things, however, which were within, and were called the Holy of Holies, to which the multitude could not attain, signify the truth of these things. By the truth of our mystery, I mean that holy thing, and the holy of holies, which is incomprehensible to many. This truth, established in the adyta of the tabernacle, must be understood and received without any curiosity. For it must be believed that it is as the Church proclaims, not that it can be discerned by the eyes of all, but that it remains an indubitable truth in the penetralia of the mind itself.
B Educated in these and such like things by the vision of the tabernacle, that eye of the mind, cleansed and belonging to that soul of Moses, and lifted higher by these visions, ascends again to the summit of another speculation, learning the priestly attire. In this, there is the undergarment, the upper tunic, and the breastplate which shone with the varied and diverse brilliance of stones, the fillet around the head with the gold plate upon it, the breeches, and the pomegranates; and over all these, the rationale, and its judgment, and the truth which is seen in both C, and the shoulder-pieces connecting these on both sides, engraved with the names of the patriarchs. The multitude of these names themselves indicates that these things signify not certain sensible objects. For to what bodily garments do these names—judgment, rationale, truth—belong? Wherefore it is clear that the history was not written for the sake of its sensible clothing, but that some other ornament of the soul might be shown through virtuous actions. For what else could these three names imposed by Moses signify, if not judgment, rationale, and truth? Or to what bodily garment were these ever attached? To none, certainly; for they do not fit, but the names themselves reveal what they prefigured and lighten the labor of exposition. The ankle-length garment is dyed with hyacinth, by which those who have speculated on this passage before us affirm that the air is signified. I, however, do not wish to contend as to whether the hyacinthine color has an affinity to the color of the air or not. But I do not reject this reasoning, for it seems to contribute not a little to virtue. For it exhorts, by this enigma, everyone who strives to take up the priesthood of God to offer himself and his body to God as a sacrifice, not killed or slaughtered (for this is a living sacrifice and a reasonable service), nor in the thick and fleshy clothing of this life, but in one that is thin, like a spider's web, fashioned by a clean manner of living, so that by this thinness of life it may be made light and ethereal, and seem able to be borne upward. For in this way, when we hear that final trumpet, freed from every burden, we shall leap up light at the voice of the One commanding us: we shall not be weighed down to the earth by any weight, but shall be carried aloft with the Lord through the air. He, therefore, who, as the Psalmist says, has made his soul D like a spider, that ethereal...
A nature which is light and airy, will not crawl upon the ground, nor be dragged down by the earthly weight of passions, but will be caught up by the divine Spirit, in order that the soul might be made a dwelling-place for God.
For the law does not wish virtue to be maimed or truncated, but whole and perfect in all its parts. Now the golden bells are the splendor of good works, interspersed with pomegranates. These are the two pursuits B by which virtue is composed: faith in God, and a conscience tested in this life. These pomegranates and bells the great Paul added to the garment of Timothy, when he said that he ought to have faith and a good conscience. Let faith, therefore, of the priest sound out clearly and sonorously in the preaching of the holy Trinity. Let his life imitate the nature of the pomegranate fruit; for its surface is inedible, covered by a hard and astringent rind. But C what lies within is pleasant to look upon, on account of the variety of color and the order of the configuration of the fruit, and it becomes even more pleasant to the taste, sweetening the senses. A life of philosophy and austerity, being difficult to grasp and unpleasant to the senses, is nonetheless full of good hopes, having ripened according to its own fruit. For when our husbandman opens the pomegranate of life in its own time and reveals the beauty of what is stored within, then the participation in its fruits becomes sweet to those who enjoy them. For the divine Apostle says somewhere D that all discipline for the present seems not to be a matter of joy, but of grief; this is what is symbolized by the exterior of the pomegranate that first meets those who touch it. But afterwards it yields a peaceful fruit; this is the internal sweetness of what is edible.
The Word also commands that this tunic have "cossymbos" (tassels or borders). Now these "cossymbos" are ornaments that hang outside, beyond what is necessary, for the sake of decoration. We learn from this that virtue must not be measured by the commandment alone, but that something must also be discovered by us through what is added from without, so that a kind of ornamental addition might come to the garment—such as Paul was, weaving his own beautiful tassels onto the commandments. For although the law orders those who wait upon the altar to share in the altar, and does not forbid those who proclaim the Gospel to live from it, he makes the Gospel cost-free, while hungry and thirsty and poorly clothed. These are the beautiful tassels, which make the garment of the commandments more ornate by their own addition.
Then two veils were cast from above upon the full-length tunic, descending from the shoulders to the chest and back, joined to one another by two clasps on each shoulder. The clasps are stones, bearing the names of the patriarchs, six on each, engraved upon them. The weaving of these veils was of varied colors. Jacinth is interwoven with purple. The redness of scarlet is mixed with fine linen. And to all these, a thread of gold is interwoven, so that from this multicolored dye, one single mixed splendor flashes forth from the veils. From these things we can learn that the upper garments, which are the ornaments of the heart, consist of many and varied virtues. For jacinth is combined with purple: for the purity and cleanness of life is joined to the kingdom of nature. For nature itself, with itself as guide, along with the blush of modesty, brings forth the principle of a praiseworthy life.
And the gold shining forth amidst these flowers hints at the treasure kept for such a life. A The names of the patriarchs also, engraved upon these stones, contribute not a little to our adornment in virtue; for our life is more surely adorned by the examples of those men of the past who lived excellently. Again, upon this adornment of the garments, another ornament is placed from above: golden shields suspended from either shoulder-piece, and through themselves holding something wrought of gold in a square figure, resplendent with twelve stones arranged in a certain order. There were four rows, each containing a triad of stones. B And in these it was not possible to find one similar to another, but each was adorned with individual splendors. Such is the form of the ornament; but as for its meaning—the shields hanging from the shoulders hint at our being armed against the tyrant and our enemy, as has been shown. As was said a little earlier, since virtue is brought to perfection through both faith and a good conscience in this life, one must be secured on both sides by the assault of these shields, remaining invulnerable to such darts through the weapons of righteousness on the right hand and the left. C But that square ornament, which hung from the shields on either side, and in which the names of the patriarchs, who gave their surnames to the tribes, were inscribed upon the stones—this becomes a covering for the heart. The Word instructs us that he who has repelled the evil archer with these two shields will adorn his own soul with all the virtues of the patriarchs, one shining forth in one way, and another in another, in the garment of virtue. The shape of the square, moreover, let it be to you an indication of steadiness in what is good. For such a figure is not easily moved, resting equally on its angles upon the straightness of its sides. D As for the bands by which these ornaments are fastened to the arms, they seem to me to enjoin that in the higher life one ought to join practical philosophy with that which is active in contemplation; so that the heart may be a symbol of contemplation, and the arms a symbol of deeds. The head, adorned with the diadem, signifies the crown reserved for those who have lived well, which he adorns who has been sealed by the gold plate with ineffable characters. Thus, no sandal is placed upon the priest who is so clothed and vested, so that he might not be slower in running, nor difficult to move, dragging with him the skins of dead animals. For, as we have already said, sandals had been an impediment to Moses when he approached the burning bush. But if they are rejected at the very first entrance, much more are they cast off from the priest's foot. He, however, who has ascended through all the stages which we have already set forth, brings down to the people the tablets delivered to him by God, in which the divine law is contained; but, having been dashed by the hard collision of sins, they are broken. For the sin was the worship of an idol formed in the likeness of a calf, which, being ground up by Moses and dissolved in water, became a drink for those who had sinned; thus, in every way, the matter that provided the occasion for human sin is...
but these are crushed, being worn away by the roughness of the mirroring of those who have sinned. The form of the sin was idolatry, in the likeness of the calf carved by the idolaters as an image. This, having been cleansed by Moses, was entirely dissolved in water and became a drink for those who had sinned, so that in every way the substance might proceed to destruction, having served the impiety of men. A Indeed, concerning the events that have occurred in our own time, the history then prophetically exclaimed. For all the error concerning idols has been completely destroyed, swallowed up by the mouths of the pious, who through a good confession have brought about the destruction of the profane substance within themselves. And the mysteries that once flourished among the idolaters have become, in very truth, transitory and unsubstantial water—water swallowed by the very mouths of those who were once mad for idols. For when you see those who formerly fell into such vanity now destroying and obliterating those things in which their confidence once lay, does not the history seem to cry out to you plainly: B "The time shall come when every idol will be swallowed up by the mouths of those who have been transferred from the error of iniquity to piety"?
Moses then arms the Levites against their own tribesmen, and having crossed the camp from one end to the other, they made the slaughter of those they encountered indiscriminate, turning the edge of the sword into the verdict against those being put to death. Likewise, against everyone who happened to be present, the slaughter was carried out, without distinguishing among those being killed, without discerning the enemy from the friend, the stranger from the kinsman, the relative from the outsider; but there was one impulse of the hand, acting equally against everyone who stood in the way. C The teaching concerning this matter might provide us with this benefit: because all, as a whole congregation, conspired toward evil, and because the entire camp had become as one in this principle of wickedness, the scourge against them becomes indiscriminate. For just as one who is punishing someone caught in wickedness lacerates whichever part of the body the whip happens to strike, knowing that the pain in the part passes through to the whole—so, as the entire body that had grown together in wickedness was being punished in like manner, the scourge acting on a part chastened the whole. Therefore, if at some point, when equal wickedness is observed in many, the wrath of God is visited not upon all but upon some, it is fitting to understand the correction of those who are acting through philanthropy; for while not all are struck, all are chastened by the partial blows toward the turning away from wickedness.
But this is the meaning of those things written according to the history. The anagogical interpretation, however, might benefit us in this way. D Since, as he says, the lawgiver proclaims in a common summons to all, "If any is for the Lord, let him come to me" (Exod. XXXII, 25), which is the voice of the law commanding all: "If anyone wishes to be a friend of God, let him be a friend to me, the law." For he who is a friend to the law is certainly also a friend to God. And he commands those who have been gathered by such a proclamation to use the sword fiercely against brother, friend, and neighbor. Following the sequence of the previous contemplation, we say that every man,
as he looks toward God and the Law, is purified by the slaughter of those who have been evilly made kin to him. For not every brother, nor friend, nor neighbor is understood in the better sense by Scripture; rather, there is a brother who is also a stranger, a friend who is also an enemy, and a neighbor who is also an adversary. We interpret these as the impulses which are born together with us—impulses whose life effects our death, but whose death produces our life. B This conception is in harmony with those things already examined concerning Aaron, when through his encounter we perceived the angel who is our ally and protector, who performs signs against the Egyptians—rightly considered to be older, because the angelic and immaterial nature was created before our own. He is called a brother because of that affinity which the intelligible realm has with our own intellect. Since there is this contradiction—namely, how the encounter with Aaron can be taken in a better sense, when he served the Israelites in the making of the idol—the discourse there moderately pointed out the ambiguity of the term "brother," showing that the same word does not always signify the same thing when it is applied to opposite meanings. But one brother is he who brings down the Egyptian tyrant, while another is he who forms the idol for the Israelites, even if the name is the same for both. Therefore, it is against such brothers that Moses bares the sword. For what he commands others to do, he surely legislates for himself as well. The slaughter of these brothers is the destruction of sins. For everyone who has destroyed the evil that was firmly established in someone by the counsel of the adversary has killed that which once lived within him through sin. Furthermore, C this doctrine might be more firmly and truly strengthened for us if we were to bring forward certain other things from the history to agree with this contemplation. For it is said that it was commanded by that Aaron that they should take the earrings from the ears of their wives; and these, when melted down, became material for an idol. We say, therefore, that Moses wished to adorn the virtue of the Hebrews with earrings—that is, the Law, which we understand as Moses, confirmed the virtue of the Jews by obedience, which is signified by the earrings; this Aaron removes, in order to show that their disobedience had reached the point of idol worship. Therefore, the earrings were removed at the very first approach to sin, so that they might appear to have already adopted the counsels of transgression and disobedience, as they were being urged to neglect the divine precept. And how did it come about that the serpent D was considered a friend and neighbor by those who were first created, as if he were counseling something honest and useful, so that they would turn away from the divine command? This is what we mean by taking the earring of the precepts from the ear. Therefore, he who slays such brothers, such friends, and such neighbors shall hear from the Law that voice which history says was spoken by Moses to those who had committed such slaughter: "You have filled your hands today to the Lord, each in his own son or brother, that a blessing may be given upon you." But it is timely that we just now made mention of our first parents, so that we may learn in what manner the divinely fashioned tablets, on which the Law was inscribed, were cast upon the ground by the hands of Moses
A and, through the impact with the ground situated beneath, were shattered, Moses is once again brought up, though no longer with the exact same tablets, but only with the writing that was upon them. For having taken the tablets from the material below, he submits them to the power of Him who inscribes the Law upon them. And thus he calls back the grace, carrying the Law in the stone tablets, with God Himself having imprinted the words upon the stone. For perhaps it is possible, by being guided through these things, to attain to an understanding of the divine providence on our behalf. For if the divine Apostle speaks truly when he names the tablets "hearts," that is, the governing part of the soul—and he surely speaks truly, he who through the Spirit explores the depths of God—then it is possible to learn from this as a consequence that, at the beginning, human nature was unbroken and immortal, fashioned by divine hands and adorned with the unwritten characters of the Law; for the will regarding the Law was naturally inherent in us for the turning away from evil and for the honoring of the divine.
B But after the sound of sin reached our ears—which that first Scripture calls the voice of the serpent, and this history of the tablets calls the voice of those singing from wine—then our nature fell to the ground and was shattered. But again, the true Lawgiver, whose type Moses was, hewed for Himself from our own earth the tablets of our nature. For wedlock did not produce the divine flesh for Him, but He Himself became the stonecutter of His own flesh, which was inscribed by the divine finger. For the Holy Spirit came upon the Virgin, and the power of the Most High overshadowed her. And when this came to pass, nature again possessed its unbroken state, having become immortal by the carvings of the finger. For the finger is often called the Holy Spirit by Scripture. And thus the transformation of Moses toward a more glorious state becomes such and so great that the reflection of that glory is unable to be contained by the lower eye. C But he who has been trained in the divine mystery of our faith does not fail to understand how the allegorical theory corresponds to the history. For the Restorer of our shattered nature—you must, of course, understand by what is said Him who healed our fractures—since He again brought the shattered tablet of our nature back to its ancient state, adorned by the divine finger, as it is written, it is no longer containable to the eyes of the unworthy, by the exceeding greatness of the glory becoming inaccessible to those who look upon Him.
For truly, when He comes (as the Gospel says) in His glory, and all the angels with Him, He is only with difficulty containable and visible even to the righteous. But the impious man, and he who Judaizes in his heresy, as Isaiah says, remains excluded from that spectacle. D "Let the impious man be taken away," he says, "that he may not see the glory of the Lord." But these things are in accordance with the logical sequence of the matters examined. Indeed, anyone might properly doubt how Moses, whom Scripture [records] to have seen God in so many and such great visions...
being testified to by the divine voice as seeing Him face to face, just as one might speak to his own friend—is, upon attaining these things, as if he had not yet obtained what Scripture testifies he had obtained, and prays that God might appear to him, as though He who was always appearing had not yet been seen. And the voice from above, at one moment, complies with the desire of him who asks and does not refuse to grant him the addition of this grace; yet at another moment leads him to despair, through what it declares: that what is sought from Him is inaccessible to the life of men. But God says there is a certain place with Him, and a rock in that place, and a hole in the rock, into which He commands Moses to enter. Then, [He says], God will place His hand over the mouth of the hole, and when He has passed by, Moses, being called from the hole, will see the hinder parts of Him who called, and thus he would seem to see Him who was sought, and the promise of the divine voice would be fulfilled without falsehood. B For if anyone were to look upon these things according to the letter, the meaning would not only be obscure to those who seek, but it would also not be free from twisted notions about God. Only things perceived in a shape possess a "front" and "back," for every shape is the limit/boundary of a body. Therefore, he who conceives of a shape in relation to God will also inevitably think Him to be of a bodily nature. But every body is necessarily composite; and the composite has its constitution from the coming together of diverse and different [elements]. But that which is so constituted is not indissoluble; and that which is dissolved is corrupted, for dissolution is the corruption of a composite thing. If, therefore, anyone were to understand the "hinder parts" of God according to the letter, he would necessarily be led by logical consequence into this absurdity. For "front" and "back" are necessarily in a shape, and shape is in a body. This, if composed, is dissoluble according to its own nature, for everything composite is dissoluble, and that which is dissolved cannot be incorruptible. Therefore, he who is a slave to the letter would, by the logic of the concepts, conceive of corruption in God. Yet God is altogether incorruptible and incorporeal. But what meaning, then, could be applied to what is written, other than that which occurs at first sight to one interpreting according to the letter? But if, in this part, we are compelled to seek a meaning higher than what the letter admits, who would call it alien to Scripture if we reduce the whole to a spiritual sense? For when it is necessary to understand some parts spiritually, it is necessary also that the whole can and should be understood as the parts are; for the whole is [composed] of parts, wherefore it must share the nature of its parts. C Therefore, the "place" with God, and the "rock" in the place, and the capacity in the rock which it called a "hole," and the entrance of Moses to it, and the placing of the hand of God over the mouth, and the passage by, and the calling, and after that the viewing of the hinder parts, will be more reasonably contemplated by the law of anagoge [spiritual interpretation]. What, then, is the deduction? It is that, just as heavy and round bodies, if they have fallen from the mountain peaks downward, even if no one pushes them further after the first motion, they are themselves driven by their own [weight] onto the downward slope with an even more violent momentum, until they are inclined, and
A settle upon the level ground; so the soul, whose nature is to be borne upward, when it is freed from earthly desires, becomes more ardent day by day, and passes through [things] more swiftly, always ascending to higher things. For since nothing stands in its way, it is borne by itself toward the nature of the Good. For the nature of the Good itself draws to itself all who are able to look with healthy eyes upon the rays of its beauty; thus it happens that, by the desire for heavenly things, it always rises "to the things that are before," as the Apostle says, and will always make its flight toward higher things. For desiring not to leave behind the height that lies above by means of what it has already attained, it makes its upward motion incessant, always renewing the tension for its flight through what has already been accomplished. For only the activity in accordance with virtue nourishes power with labor, not yielding its tension through the deed, but increasing it.
For this reason, we say that the great Moses, having once [begun], never stood still in his ascent, nor did he set for himself any limit for his upward movement; but, having once stepped upon the ladder upon which God was leaning, as Jacob says, he was always to step upon the step B that is above, and never to cease being exalted, because the one that is above is always to be found.
He denies the falsely alleged kinship with the queen of the Egyptians; he becomes a champion for the Hebrew; he removes himself to the solitary life of the desert, which no human commotion disturbs; he tends the flock of brute animals within himself; he sees the radiance of the light; he makes his ascent toward the light unencumbered by removing his sandals; he claims his kinsmen and fellow-tribesmen for liberty; he sees the enemy submerged as one drowning under the waves. He is sheltered under the cloud; he cures his thirst with the rock; he cultivates bread from heaven. Then, by the stretching out of his hands, he defeats the foreigner; he hears the trumpet; he enters the darkness; he slips into the inner sancta of the tabernacle not made by hands; he learns the mysteries of the divine priesthood. He destroys the idol, he renders the Divine propitious, he calls back the law that had been broken by the wickedness of the Jews, he shines with glory; and though exalted through so many and such great heights, he still burns with desire, and is still as one famished and thirsty, as one lacking that C which he was always enjoying; he prays to see God, not as he himself is able to grasp, but as He is who is desired. Whence I consider that he was so affected by an immense and ardent desire for God, that through the visions which shone upon him, he could not bear but to be driven from the things he comprehended to more hidden ones: wherefore the lover of the supreme beauty, believing what he had already seen to be as it were an image of what he had not seen, desired to enjoy the archetype itself. This, then, is what that bold petition on the mountain desires: not to enjoy the beauty through certain mirrors and reflections, but face to face. But the divine voice, through the things which it manages, grants what is petitioned, in a few words uncovering an immense depth of meaning. For it signifies that it will do what was requested: but it did not promise that there would be an end or cessation of this desire, for no one D [can] thus [fully grasp] God.
A For the divine voice grants that which was sought through these things, while demonstrating in these few words a certain immeasurable depth of thought. For indeed, the great gift of God vouchsafed to satisfy his desire; yet it promised no standing point or satiety for that longing. For He would not have shown Himself to His servant if the thing seen were of such a nature as to bring the desire of the one looking to a halt; since in this very thing consists the true sight of God—in the one looking up to Him never ceasing in his desire. For He says: "You shall not be able to see my face; for no man shall see my face and live." Now, the argument does not show this as being a cause of death to those who see—for how could the face of Life ever become a cause of death to those who have approached it?—but rather because, while the Divine is by nature life-giving, it is a B peculiar characteristic of the divine nature to be above all comprehending knowledge. Whoever imagines that anything which is known is God acts as one who has turned aside from Him who is, toward that which is thought to be, and possesses no life. For that which truly is, is the true life; but this is inaccessible to knowledge. If, therefore, the life-giving nature surpasses knowledge, that which is grasped is certainly not life; and that which is not life has no nature to be a provider of life. Thus, therefore, is the desire of Moses fulfilled, so that it remains insatiable: for he learns from these things that God is by nature interminable, comprehended by no boundary.
For if He is understood to be concluded by some boundary, it is necessary that something be connected to that boundary; for absolutely everything that is bounded ends at something else, just as the air is the boundary of terrestrial things, and water of aquatic things. As, then, fishes are contained by water and birds by air—and although they are in the middle of these elements, yet a certain surface of the water terminates at the fish, and of the air at the winged creature—so it is necessary, if God is concluded by a boundary, that He be contained by some nature of a different kind. For that which contains is greater than what is contained.
C But it is conceded that God is by nature good; and that which is compared to the good but is of a different nature is not good, but is understood to be evil; and it is, as we said, that which contains is greater than what is contained. If, therefore, God were contained by a boundary, it would follow that He is overcome and vanquished by evil, since the power of the container exceeds that which is contained. But this is so absurd that no one in his right mind has ever thought it. The divine nature is, therefore, interminable, and that which is interminable cannot be comprehended. Wherefore, he who desires to see the divine beauty and strives toward it, let him always remain in this course. And this is truly to see God: that this desire should never be terminated. Wherefore it is necessary that, as we see as much as is possible for us, we should be inflamed with a greater desire for seeing, and thus no boundary ever D shall cut off for us the journey of this desire, since there is no boundary to the Good itself, nor can satiety of this desire ever occur. But who is that place which is understood to be with God? Who is that rock? What is that capacity in the rock? What is that hand of God, which [protects] the [face]
A of the cave? What is the passing by of God? And what is His back, which God promised He would give to Moses when he asked for the vision of His face? For each of these must by all means be something great, and worthy of the magnificent gift of the Giver, so that this promise may be believed to be more magnificent and more sublime than any theophany that had already occurred to the great servant. How, then, might one understand the height of the things that have been said, to which Moses desires to ascend after so many ascents, and which He who works all things for the good for those who love God facilitates through His guidance? “Behold a place,” He says, “with Me.” B Perhaps the meaning corresponds to the things previously contemplated. For by saying “a place,” He does not limit that which is shown by quantity (for the immeasurable has no measure), but by omitting description according to measure, He leads the listener toward the infinite and the indeterminate. The word therefore seems to signify such a thought as this: Since your desire is directed toward what lies ahead, and although there is no satiety of the journey, nor do you know any satiety of the Good, but your longing always looks toward the greater, the place with Me is so vast that he who runs within it can never be able to finish the journey. And the journey, in another sense, is a state. “For I will set you,” He says, “upon the rock.”
This is the most paradoxical of all, how the same thing is both a state C and a movement. For he who is ascending does not stand, and he who stands does not ascend; but here, through standing, the ascending happens. This means that as much as one remains firm and unchanging in the Good, by so much more does he traverse the journey of virtue. For he who is unstable and slippery, having an uncertain foothold in the Good according to the base of his thoughts, and being tossed and carried about, as the Apostle says, and wavering and shaking in his opinions about existing things, could never ascend to the height of virtue. Just as those walking on sand toward an incline, even if they seem to be taking great steps with their feet, labor in vain, always sliding down toward the bottom as the sand gives way beneath them; so that while the movement is being performed, no progress of the movement occurs. But if one, as the D Psalm says, having drawn his feet from the mire of the deep, should plant them upon the rock (the rock, however, is Christ, the total fulfillment of all virtues), the more firm and immovable he becomes in the Good, as Paul advises, the more swiftly he flies, using this stability as if it were wings, and being winged in his heart toward the upward path through the certainty of the Good.
He, therefore, who showed the place to Moses, urges him toward the journey. And by promising the state upon the rock, He reveals to him the manner of that divine race. And the capacity in the rock...
A which the Word designates as a hollow, the divine Apostle has well interpreted in his own words, saying that an eternal house, not made by hands, is reserved by hope for those who have dissolved the earthly tabernacle. For truly he who has finished the course, as the Apostle says, in that broad and spacious stadium which the divine voice calls the place, and has kept the faith, or rather, as the riddle says, has planted his own feet upon the rock—he shall be adorned with the crown of justice by the hand of Him who proposed these contests to us. And this reward is called by many names in Scripture: for it is one and the same thing, which here is called the capacity of the rock, but in other places the delights of paradise, the eternal tabernacle, the mansion with the Father, the bosom of the patriarchs, the land of the living, the water of rest, the Jerusalem above, the kingdom of heaven, the prize of our calling, the crown of graces, the crown of beauty, the tower of strength, the joy of the table, the divine co-session, the seat of judgment, the celebrated place, and the hidden tabernacle. Therefore, we say that this, too, is one of those things contributing to this meaning: the entry of Moses into the rock. B For since Christ is understood by Paul to be the rock, and all hope of good things is believed to be in Christ, in whom we have learned that all the treasures of good things reside, he who has attained to any good is entirely in Christ, who is the container of every good. And he who has reached this point, and has been sheltered by the hand of God, as the Word promised (and the hand of God would be the creative power of existing things, the only-begotten God, through whom all things were made, who is also the place for those who run, becoming the way of the course, according to His own voice, and becomes a rock to those who are steadfast, and a house to those who rest), he will then hear Him who calls, and will be behind the One who calls—that is, he will walk "after the Lord God," as the law mandates. Hearing this, the great David also understood it, saying to him who dwells in the help of the Most High that "He shall overshadow thee with his shoulders," which is equal to being positioned behind God: for the shoulders are the hinder parts. C And concerning himself he cries out: "My soul hath cleaved after thee, and thy right hand hath upheld me." You see how the psalmody agrees with the history. For as he says that the taking hold by the right hand belongs to him who is glued behind God, so there too the hand touches him who waits for the divine voice in the rock and prays to follow behind. And the Lord, who then gave oracles to Moses and who came to fulfill His own law, similarly explains the matter to the disciples, stripping away the riddle and bringing the meaning into the open. He says, "If any man will come after me," and not, "If any man will come before me." And to him who asks Him about eternal life, He prescribes this same thing, saying: "Come, follow me." For he who follows looks not at the face, but at the back. D Moses, therefore, desiring to see God, is taught how God can be seen; for to follow God in heart and mind, always whithersoever He leads, this is the very same thing as to see God: for that passing by of God signifies that He who follows is led by God, since it is not possible for one who is ignorant of the way to travel correctly and safely unless he follows correctly after the leader. Accordingly, he is taught
to see God; for following God, in whatever way He leads, is in itself the seeing of God. Indeed, His passage signifies the guidance of the one following, for it is not possible for one who is ignorant of the way to complete it safely otherwise than by following behind the leader.
A The leader, therefore, by going ahead, points out the road to the one following; and the follower will not then swerve from the straight path, if he always looks at the back of the leader. For he who shifts his movement to the sides, or who turns his gaze face-to-face toward the leader, creates for himself a different path, not that which the guide points out. Therefore, He says to the one being led, That my face will not be seen by you; that is, do not become face-to-face with the one leading. For the course would be, in every way, toward the opposite; for good does not look against good, but follows it. That which is conceived from the opposite, however, becomes face-to-face with the good. For wickedness looks at virtue from the opposite side; but virtue does not contemplate itself by being face-to-face with virtue. Moses, therefore, does not look at God face-to-face, but looks at His back. For he who looks face-to-face shall not live, as the divine voice testifies: "No one shall see the face of the Lord, and live." You see how great a thing it is to learn to follow God; for after those sublime ascents, and those fearful and glorious theophanies, toward the end of his life, he who had learned to be behind God is barely accounted worthy of this grace. And for the one thus following God, no longer does anything from the vexations of wickedness oppose him.
For after these things, envy springs up against him from his brothers; envy, that primal evil passion, the father of death, the first entrance of sin, the root of wickedness, the genesis of grief, the mother of calamities, the suggestion of disobedience, the beginning of shame. Envy drove us from paradise, having become a serpent against Eve; envy walled us off from the tree of life, and having stripped us of the sacred garments, subjected us to the leaves of the fig tree for shame. Envy armed Cain against nature, and invented a death to be punished sevenfold. Envy made Joseph a slave. Envy is the deadly sting, the hidden weapon, the disease of nature, the bilious venom, the self-induced consumption, the bitter dart, the nail of the soul, the fire in the heart, the flame burning in the inmost parts. To the envious, their own evil is not the misfortune, but the prosperity of another. And conversely, a success is not their own good, but the evil of their neighbor. Envy is pained by the fortunes of men, and tramples upon their calamities.
They say that corpse-eating vultures are killed by myrrh; for their nature is accustomed to that which is putrid and corrupt; and the one held by this disease is destroyed by the prosperity of friends, as if by the application of myrrh. But if he should see any passion or misfortune, he swoops down upon it, and brings forward his hooked beak, dragging out the hidden things of the misfortune. Envy had brought down many before Moses. But when it approached this great man, it was shattered as if an earthen vessel dashed against a rock, and was crushed on the way. In this, the gain of the walk with God, which Moses was practicing, was most especially demonstrated; for how could envy have harmed him who was running in the divine path? Who stood upon the rock, and had been admitted into its hollow? Who followed God behind His back? Who was not looking at the face of the leader, but was looking at the obedient back? Having followed
he proves himself blessed by following God, and by appearing to be higher than the trajectory of the bowshot. For envy sends the arrow against him too; but the shot does not reach the height where Moses was. For the bowstring of wickedness was too weak to launch the passion so far as to reach him from the ranks A of those who had previously been stricken. Aaron and Miriam, however, were wounded by the passion of envy, and they themselves became a kind of bow of envy, shooting forth words as arrows against him. B But he was so far from participating in that sickness, that he even heals the passion of those who have been stricken; not only remaining unmoved in his own defense against those who had grieved him, but also rendering God placable toward them—showing, I believe, by what he did, that he who is well shielded by the buckler of virtue is not pierced by the tips of the arrows. For the strength of this shield blunts the point and turns the weapon back. And indeed, the armor suitable for repelling such arrows is God Himself, whom the soldier of virtue puts on. "Put on," he says, "the Lord Jesus." This is the unbreakable panoply with which Moses was armed, making the wicked archer ineffective. For he was not moved by any grief or perturbation against those who had insulted him, even after he saw them condemned by divine judgment; for he did not forget that he was joined to them, but he pleaded with God on behalf of his brethren, which he would not have done had he not been following God, who for His part had shown him the safe way to follow. C But the enemy of human nature, repulsed by Moses, transferred his assaults to weaker hands, and launched war and gluttonous appetite like a weapon into the people, inflaming them with a desire for Egyptian delicacies and inciting them to prefer the flesh of Egypt to that heavenly food. But Moses, already established above every disturbance, had great care for the future inheritance which was promised to those fleeing from Egypt, and toward the land to which they were traveling, from which milk and honey flow forth thoroughly mixed together. For this reason, he questioned the spies who were sent regarding the good things of that region. And these are some good, others evil: the good are, as I conceive it, the right thoughts regarding the blessedness promised to us, strengthened by faith in Christ. The evil, however, are the minds of those who disbelieve in the resurrection and the blessedness, who attempt to blunt and weaken faith in the good things promised to the human race. Moses rejected them all, and gave credence only to those who brought back better reports of that region. Jesus, however, was the leader of all these, and looking toward Him, Moses held a firm hope regarding future things, strengthened by the grape cluster; for the grape cluster, which they had brought on staves, showed a specimen of the delights of that region. Indeed, hearing Jesus giving evidence of that land, and seeing the grape cluster hanging from the wood, you will not doubt that it is He toward whom he also was looking, being consoled by an indubitable hope. For the grape cluster hanging from the wood—what else will it be, than He who is in
A the last days suspended upon the wood, whose blood becomes a saving drink to those who believe? Moses foretold this to us enigmatically: "And he drank the blood of the grape, wine," by which the saving passion is signified. But again the journey is through the wilderness, and the people, who had despaired of the good things promised, are afflicted with thirst.
Moses, however, again causes the wilderness to overflow with waters through the rock. Such a word, through the spiritual contemplation it offers us, teaches us what the mystery of repentance is. For those who, after having once drunk from the rock, have turned back toward their belly and flesh and Egyptian pleasures, are condemned by hunger and the privation of participation in good things. Nevertheless, it is possible for them again, through repentance, to find the rock B they had abandoned, and to open up the vein for themselves again, and again to be filled with the stream which the rock gives forth to him who has believed the exploration of Jesus to be truer than that of his adversaries, and who looks toward the grape cluster—He who for our sake let blood drip and was bloodied—and to Him who again caused the rock to gush forth for them through the wood. But the people had not yet been trained to follow in the footsteps of the greatness of soul of Moses; they are still dragged down toward slavish desires and lean toward Egyptian pleasures. The history shows in a way through these things that human nature is especially prone to such passion, being led C into the disease by a myriad of paths. Therefore, like a skilled physician standing against the prevailing passion through his art, not allowing the disease to hold power over them unto death. For among them, the desire for base things bred snakes, and the bite from these brought a deadly venom upon those who were scratched by the bite; but the great legislator drove away the power of those creatures that were serpents in truth by the form of a serpent. But it would be time to reveal the enigma more clearly. The one antidote against these pestilential diseases of desire is the purification of our souls brought about by the mystery of godliness. The head of all things that are believed in the mystery D is the looking with a firm and right faith upon the passion of Him who suffered for our sake; and His passion was the cross: wherefore he who looks upon the cross, as the history exhorts, the venom of desires cannot harm him. To look upon the cross is nothing other than to make one’s whole life, as it were, dead to the world and crucified, being unmoved toward every sin, as the Prophet says, fastening one’s own flesh with the fear of God. A nail that holds the flesh would be self-control. Since, therefore, the desire for base things draws up deadly snakes from the earth (for whatever is the offspring of evil desire is a snake), for this reason the law shows us beforehand that which appears upon the wood; and this is an image of a serpent, and not
A the true serpent, which is sin; and he who deserts to sin puts on the nature of the serpent. Therefore, man is freed from sin by Him who assumed the form of sin, and who became like us who had turned toward the form of the serpent. By Him the death that is brought in by the bites is prevented, yet the wild beasts themselves are not destroyed; by wild beasts I mean the desires themselves when they are depraved. For although the death of sinners, which is evil, does not take effect upon those who look toward the cross, the desire that is ingrained in the flesh against the spirit is not utterly destroyed. For even in the faithful, the bites of desire frequently arise, which they repel by looking toward the One lifted up upon the wood, dissipating the power of the poison through the fear of the commandment as if by an antidote. B That the mystery of the cross was prefigured by the lifting up of the serpent in the desert is clearly taught to us by the Truth, when He says: "And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up." Again and again, however, the forwardness of sin, in a kind of sequence, breaks out by habit from one thing to another, and the Lawgiver, like some excellent physician, has a cure prepared for the various kinds of diseases. For when the bite of the serpents brought no further evil to those who looked upon the image of the serpent—and the riddle is sufficiently understood from what has already been said—another method of sin is devised by the enemy, who always meditates and plots against us, which is also very widely prevalent in our own times. For after that disease of desire has abated through a more temperate life, they break into the priesthood, insulting the dispensation of God with human canvassing and imperious ordinations; thus, if our adversary does not conquer by one mode of sinning, he attempts to overthrow us by another. They are vexed by the desire for the foods of Egypt, whence serpents were sent in; they are overcome by the image of the serpent hanging from the wood: thus, faith in the Crucified set them free. But when the disease of desire was dispelled, pride took its place. For since they believed it to be a humble and abject thing to keep their own order, they attempt to intrude themselves into the dignity of the priesthood, and they do not blush to drive out those who had been divinely qualified for that mystery: but many were swallowed up by an opening of the earth and perished, others were consumed by lightning. Therefore, in my judgment, history teaches us by these events that the end of the elation that arises from pride is a descent to the subterranean: and perhaps, having taken the opportunity from this, one might define pride thus: Pride is a descent to the lower regions. And if the force of the word, as it seems to many, indicates the opposite (for the proud man is thought to be he who is above others), do not be amazed: for I prefer to follow the truth of the divine history rather than the imposition of names; for if those who wish to prefer themselves above others are swallowed up by an opening of the earth and fall to the lowest depths, it is not to be disregarded
A that the definition — when we say that a fall to the lowest point is pride — is confirmed. By these things Moses instructs us to be moderate, and not to be puffed up by successful achievements, but always to pay attention to what is present and impending, and to arrange it rightly. For just because you have overcome pleasure, it does not follow that you are now beyond being caught by another kind of passion. For every passion is a fall, for as long as it is a passion. There is no difference at all between falls in the alternation of passions. He who has slipped on the slickness of pleasure has fallen, and he who has been tripped up by pride has been overturned. No manner of falling is desirable to one who has understanding; rather, every fall is equally to be avoided for as long as it remains a fall. If you were to see someone, even among those of the present day, who is pure to some extent from the sickness regarding pleasures, but yet who is eagerly thrusting himself toward the priesthood out of a desire to appear superior to others, you should consider that you are looking at that very man falling from the height of pride. B For the law teaches in what follows that the priesthood is a divine thing, and not a human one. It teaches as follows: Moses took a rod from each tribe, inscribed them with the names of those who had given them, and placed them before the tabernacle, so that the rod might become a testimony of an ordination from above, being made notable by a certain divine miracle beyond the others. And when this had happened, the rods of the others remained as they were, but the rod of the priest, having taken root in itself—not through any external moisture, but through the power implanted in it by God—sprouted forth branches and fruit, and the fruit came to maturity. The fruit was a nut. When this occurred, all the subject people were instructed toward good order. And through that fruit which the priest's rod sprouted, it is fitting to understand what the life of one in the priesthood ought to be: that he should be temperate, restrained, and hardened in his outward way of life, but within, in a hidden and secret way, containing something edible; C this is revealed only when, in the course of time, the eating is finished, the astringent husk is split open, and that wooden covering of the edible part is worn away.
If, however, you should examine the life of someone called a priest and find it to be apple-like, fragrant, and rosy—just as the lives of many are, who are adorned with fine linen and purple, who live luxuriously at rich tables, who drink filtered wine, who are anointed with the most expensive perfumes, and enjoy all the other sweet things that seem desirable to the taste to those who have set their minds on an indulgent life—you would rightly use the evangelical words concerning him: I see the fruit, but I do not recognize the priestly tree through this fruit. The fruit of the priesthood is one thing, and this is another. That fruit was temperance; this is luxury. That fruit was not fattened D by earthly moisture; to this one, however, many streams of pleasures flow from below, by which the late fruit of his life is reddened. When the subject people have become pure from this passion as well, then they cross through the life of the foreigner, with the law leading them along the royal, broad highway, such that they proceed in a way that avoids turning to either side. For just as if a place were precipitous on both sides, revealing a vast chasm, the narrow way through the middle would be most dangerous to one traveling across.
A For the turning aside to the side-paths is dangerous for the wayfarer. For just as if two precipices were to narrow a single path on a mountain ridge, there is danger for anyone walking along it to turn aside to either one side or the other from the middle (for perhaps on both sides the abyss from the cliff awaits one who strays); so too the law wishes for one who follows in its footsteps not to abandon the way—which, as the Lord says, is narrow and confined—neither to the left, nor to what is supposed to be the right. And this teaching is a doctrine, defining that virtues are to be beheld in a mean; because it is the nature of all vice to be brought into action either by way of deficiency or by way of excess. For example, in the case of courage, cowardice is a deficiency of virtue, while recklessness is an excess; but that which is pure of both of these is beheld in the middle of these adjacent vices, and it is virtue. In the same way, all other things, as many as are pursued for the better, are in a way held in the midst by the evil things bordering them. Wisdom holds the middle between craftiness and simplicity; neither the prudence of the serpent is commendable, nor the simplicity of the dove, if one were to take either of these by itself; but the state that is compounded and passes through the middle of these two becomes virtue. He who is deficient in temperance is a profligate; he who is excessive has his conscience branded, as the Apostle defines; for the one is shamelessly poured out into pleasures, while the other even abominates and rejects marriage as if it were adultery; but the state beheld in the middle of these is temperance.
And since, as the Lord says, this world lies in the evil one, and that which is opposed to virtue is alien to those who follow the law—which is wickedness—the one who travels through this world in the course of life will safely complete this necessary journey of virtue if he keeps to the highway, the path truly worn and whitened by virtue, nowhere turning aside to the adjacent rough places because of wickedness. But since, as has been said, along with the ascent of virtue, the treachery of the adversary also ascends, finding in each person the pretexts for turning aside into evil; then, when the people have increased in the life lived according to God, the adversary attempts another kind of treachery, according to those skilled in warfare. Those who see that a head-on confrontation with those who are powerful in strength and virtue is difficult to overcome by force, outmaneuver the opponent with words and ambushes. Thus the army of vice, as regards those who have been strengthened by the law and virtue, no longer brings its force into play face-to-face, but works its treachery in secret by certain ambushes. C He calls, therefore, for an alliance against those who are being plotted against by him—sorcery. The history says that he was some kind of soothsayer and diviner, possessing a power of harming—doubtless from some operation of demons—even against those opposed to him, and that he was hired by the ruler of the Madianites, in order to harm by means of a curse those who live for God, but he turned that curse into a blessing. We, however, understand by the sequence of what has been observed that sorcery is not at all active against those who live in virtue; but that those who are feasted through divine assistance prevail over every treachery.
A For that he practiced the divination of augury, the aforementioned is testified by the history, in which it says that he had the divinations in his hand, and that he took counsel from the omens; and before these, that he was instructed concerning the purpose he had at hand through the braying of an ass; the sound of which (because he was accustomed to taking counsel from the voices of irrational creatures, by some operation of the demons) the Scripture related as articulate, indicating that those who have been ensnared by such a deception of the demons reach such a point that, instead of reason, they receive the instruction that comes to them from the voice of irrational creatures based on such observation. By paying attention to this, he was taught, through the very things by which he was deceived, the unconquerable nature of those against whom he had been hired. And indeed, in the evangelical history, the set of demons, the legion, had been prepared for resistance against the authority of the Lord. B But when He who holds authority over all approached, it cries out at His surpassing power, and does not hide the truth, that this is the divine nature, which in the appropriate times will bring upon the sinners their punishment. For the voice of the demons says: "We know who you are, the Holy One of God; and that you have come before the time to torment us." And this is what happened then as well, when the demonic power that accompanied the soothsayer taught Balaam the unconquerable and irresistible nature of the people. C But we say, adapting the history to the matters previously examined, that he who wished to curse those living in virtue could utter no painful or unbecoming word, but turned the curse into a blessing. And the meaning is this, that the stain of reproach does not touch those who live according to virtue. For how shall a man who possesses nothing be reproached for greed? Or how shall someone gossip about profligacy to one who has withdrawn and lives in seclusion? Or about anger to the gentle? Or about arrogance to the humble-minded? Or any other of the things that are blamed, to those who are known for the opposite? Their purpose is to keep their life beyond the reach of blame; so that, as the Apostle says, he who is from the opposite side may be put to shame, having nothing to say. For this reason the voice of the one who was summoned to curse says, "How shall I curse, whom the Lord does not curse?" That is, how shall I revile one who has not given the matter for reviling? For his life is invulnerable because it is protected by the shield of God. However, even if the enemy achieves nothing against the people by this path of cursing, yet because he recognized that the Judeans were defended by divine power, he did not cease, but strives to remove them from divine assistance through filthy pleasure. For while all pleasure easily allures to vice, most of all the foul act of Venus draws in the licentious spirits of the young, held fast by a curved hook. D And this is evident; for those who were superior in arms, who by their own strength blunted the sword of the enemy, and who routed the phalanx of the adversaries, fell struck by the form of a woman; thus, those who conquered men, are utterly conquered by women. For as soon as the women appeared, presenting their beautiful bodies instead of weapons, they immediately forgot their fortitude and devolved into pleasures. This lapse into nefarious lusts would have betrayed the Judeans, deprived of divine patronage, to be slaughtered by their enemies, had not the zealot Phinehas by his own ardor anticipated the divine sentence: for he became both judge and executioner himself, and employing his priestly office, he purged the sin with blood: with blood,
A not of some innocent animal that had partaken of no defilement of incontinence, but of those joined together in malice; the spear passed through both their bodies and calmed the movement of divine justice, mingling the pleasure of the sinners with their death.
And the history seems to me to provide a soul-profiting piece of advice to men, by which we are taught that, while there are many passions that combat the human mind, no other passion has such power against us as to be equated with the disease of pleasure. For that suddenly those Israelites—who had shown themselves superior even to the Egyptian cavalry, and who had surpassed the Amalekites, and had appeared formidable to the nation that came after them, and after that had prevailed over the phalanx of the Midianites—that these men, upon the mere sight of the foreign women, should be enslaved to the disease, shows B nothing else, as has been said, than that pleasure is an enemy to us that is difficult to fight and impossible to overcome. The same passion that conquered those invincible in arms as soon as it appeared, raised a trophy of dishonor against them, pillorying their shame before the light as a witness. For it showed those men as cattle, whom the bestial and irrational impulse toward incontinence persuaded to forget their human nature; nor did they hide their pollution, but paraded in the dishonor of the passion and gloried in the defilement of the shame, openly wallowing like swine in the mire of impurity in each other’s sight.
What, then, are we taught by the narrative? That having learned how much power the disease of pleasure has toward evil, we should dwell as far as possible from such a neighborhood, so that the disease may not find any passage toward us—like a fire that through its approach creates a wicked flame. For this is what Solomon teaches in his Wisdom, saying that one should not touch a hot coal with a bare foot, nor place fire in one's bosom; C as it is in our power to remain in apathy as long as we are far from that which sets us ablaze; but if we should come near it, so as to touch that burning heat, the fire of desire will invade our bosom, and thus it will follow that both the foot will be burned, and certain death will be brought upon our bosom.
In the Gospel also, the Lord, in His own voice, so that we might be kept far from such an evil, cut out as it were the root of the passion, which is desire that comes through seeing, teaching that he who admits the passion through his sight gives a road to the disease against himself. For the evil of the passions, like a plague, once it has taken hold of the vital parts, is stilled only by death. But I do not think there is any need to lengthen the discourse, proposing the whole life of Moses as an example of virtue to those who encounter it. For if anyone D
A to one who has raised himself toward the higher life, the things already said would not be an insignificant provision for true philosophy. But for one who is soft-hearted towards the labors undergone for the sake of virtue, even if we were to write many times more than what has been said, there would be no benefit from the effort. However, lest this, according to the definition in the introduction, should fall into oblivion—in which our discourse insists that the perfect life is of such a nature that no limit of perfection hinders its progress, but rather the ever-increasing growth of life toward the better is the way for the soul to perfection—it would be proper, by bringing the discourse to the end of Moses’ life, to demonstrate the definition of perfection previously given to us.
For he who, having been elevated through so many ascents throughout his entire life, was never at a loss to become higher than his former self—so that, I think, through everything, like an eagle, his life might be seen to be above the clouds and aloft, wheeling in the ether of intellectual ascent. He was born when the birth of a Hebrew was deemed a crime among the Egyptians. And when the tyrant of that time was punishing the newborn by law, he became superior to the destructive law, being saved first by his parents, and then by those who were the very lawgivers themselves. And those by whom his death was eagerly sought by law, these very ones provided for every care, not only of his life, but of his noble life, having led the young man through all wisdom.
After this, he becomes superior to human honor, and higher than royal dignity, judging it more powerful and more kingly to have the guard of virtue, and to be adorned with its ornament, rather than the guards and royal finery. After this, he saves his kinsman, and strikes down the Egyptian; we understand through analytical contemplation both the enemy of the soul and the friend. Then he makes silence the teacher of high disciplines, and thus enlightens his mind with the light that shone from the bush; and then he makes it his pursuit to share with his kinsmen the good things that had come to him from God. In these things he made a twofold display of his power: the defensive one against enemies, in manifold and successive plagues, and the beneficent one on behalf of his kinsmen. He leads such a great people through the sea on foot, not having prepared a fleet of ships for himself, but having fashioned faith for them for the crossing; he makes the abyss dry land for the Hebrews, but the sea remained sea for the Egyptians. He sang the victory songs; he was guided by the pillar; he was enlightened by the heavenly fire; he set before himself a table from the food sent from above. He was satisfied from the rock; he stretched out his hands for the destruction of the Amalekites. He approaches the mountain, he enters into the cloud, he heard the trumpet, he drew near to the divine nature, he was encompassed by the tabernacle from above, he adorned the priesthood, he set up the tabernacle, he rectified the life of men with laws, he successfully fought the final wars in the way mentioned; at the end of his achievements, he punished licentiousness through the priesthood. For this is what the anger, through which Phinehas blazed up at that disturbance, signifies: and after all these things he ascended into the mountain of rest, he did not descend to the lower lands toward which the crowd of people was looking in accordance with the promise; for he who is vigilant for heavenly things is not enticed by earthly ones; but having been established upward to the very summit of the mountain, just as a most skilled sculptor, he diligently B C D
A finished the statue of his own life, and placed not an end upon the work at the final boundary of the modeling, but a summit. For what does history say about him? "Moses, the servant of the Lord, died by the word of God, and no one knows his sepulcher, nor did his eyes grow dim, nor was his face corrupted."
From this, one may learn how many and how great are the virtues by which a man is rendered worthy of this sacred name, so that he is called a servant of God. For that man is truly a servant of God who has surpassed all other things. For no one can serve God who has not despised everything that is in this world for God's sake. This also brings the end to this B virtuous life of the present age, brought to completion by the word of God—I mean a living end, to which no burial succeeds, to which no tomb is added, which induces no dimness to the eyes and no corruption to the face. What, therefore, does history admonish us from this? That we must look toward one end in this life, that we may attain the name of servants of God. For when you have defeated all your enemies—the Egyptian, the Amalekite, the Idumean, the Madianite; when you have crossed the water, and have been illuminated by the cloud, and have eaten the heavenly bread, and have completed the journey toward the mountain with purity and chastity, C and have learned the divine mysteries on the mountain to the sound of trumpets, and have approached God himself in the darkness through faith, and have there been taught the mysteries of the tabernacle and the dignity of the priesthood; when you have become a stone-cutter of your own heart, so that the divine oracles may be engraved upon it by God; when you have destroyed the golden idol—that is, when you have removed avaricious desire from your life; when you have been so exalted that you cannot be captured by the Balaamite arts (by these magic arts, moreover, we understand the various illusions of this life, by which men, as if affected by the potion of a certain Circe, having put off their own nature, are transformed into the forms of brutes); D when the rod of the priesthood has sprouted for you, not drawing any sap from the earth for its growth, but having the power of the fruit from its own source, and a nut-like fruit, of which the first encounter is bitter and astringent, but the part contained within is sweet and edible; when all who dare to rise up against your dignity have either been swallowed by the earth, according to Dathan, or consumed by fire, according to Core: then at last you will arrive at the end. I call "end" that for whose sake all other things are. For as the end of agriculture is the gathering of grain; of building, the habitation of the houses; and of trade, wealth; and of a combat, the crown: so the end of a virtuous life is that you may both be, and be called, a servant of God. To this matter also belongs the fact that you cannot be covered by a burial; which happens if you have cultivated a life stripped of all vices. But history conveys another sign of this divine servitude; for the eye of the servant of God shall not grow dim, nor shall his face be corrupted. For how could the eye that is always in the light, in any way, by the force of sight,
A be dazzled by the darkness of which it is entirely devoid? And how could he who has cultivated immortality throughout his entire life suffer any corruption? For he who is truly made in the image of God, and has never turned away from the divine character, bears the marks within himself, and finds that through all things his likeness corresponds to the Archetype, adorning his own soul with incorruptibility, immutability, and freedom from all vice.
This you have, man of God, Caesarius, regarding the perfection of a life lived according to virtue, as my brief discourse proposes: I have described the life of the great Moses as a kind of prototype in the form of beauty, from which it is permitted to each one of us to portray in ourselves, through the imitation of his practices, the character of this beauty shown to us beforehand. For as to the fact that Moses achieved the perfection possible for a human being, what witness could be found more trustworthy than the voice of God himself, which says to him: "I have known you above all"? B Furthermore, he was called a friend of God by God himself; and when God was angry at the sins of the people and wished to destroy them all, Moses chose to perish with the people rather than live without them; then God, out of regard for his friend, was appeased. All these things show that he had reached the highest peak of human perfection. Since, therefore, we were seeking what is the perfection of a virtuous life, and through what has been said this perfection has been found, it is time for you, noble man, to look to this example and, transferring to your own life the things that reached a higher meaning through the historical narrative, to be known by God and to become his friend. C For this is truly perfection: not to separate oneself from a life of wickedness in a slavish manner out of fear of punishment, nor to practice the good from a hope of rewards, like some commercial and transactional disposition, trading in a virtuous life; but, having despised all things—even those things that are laid up in the promises through hope—to consider only one thing fearful: falling from the friendship of God; and to judge only one thing honorable and desirable for yourselves: to become a friend to God. And this, according to my discourse, is the perfection of life. As for whatever else may be found by you, once your mind has been lifted to what is more magnificent and divine—and many things will be found—the gain will be common to all, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory and power forever. Amen.
OF OUR HOLY FATHER GREGORY, BISHOP OF NYSSA, FIRST BOOK ON THE INSCRIPTIONS OF THE PSALMS.
Preface to a certain friend.
A I have received your command with readiness, O man of God, since it grants me as much zeal as it does you, and I have turned my attention to the inscriptions of the Psalms. For this is what you directed us to investigate: the meaning perceived therein, so that it might be made clear to all what is capable of leading us to virtue through them. Having, therefore, engaged with the entire book of the Psalms with greater attention, I thought it necessary not to begin the discussion from the inscriptions themselves, but to set forth first a certain technical method for understanding the thoughts B of the entire Psalmody; through which the discourse concerning the inscriptions will also be clarified for us. It is necessary, then, first to understand toward what end the aim of this scripture looks; then, to perceive the logical constructions leading toward the subject matter of the thoughts, which the order of the Psalms, well arranged for the knowledge of that end, demonstrates, and the sections...of the whole book are determined by certain specific descriptions, the entire prophecy contained in the Psalms being divided into five parts. Once these have been moderately understood beforehand, the usefulness derived from the inscriptions will become more familiar to us, being made manifest through those things which have been clearly explained by us previously. From this point, therefore, the beginning of this consideration must be taken.
CHAPTER ONE
The end of a life established according to the prescription of virtue is blessedness. For whatever is done with seriousness and deliberation must of necessity have a relation to some end. And just as medicine looks to health, and the goal of agriculture is the preparation of things necessary for life, so too the possession of virtue looks toward making the person who leads a life according to it blessed; for this is the head and the end of every good and of everything conceived in the good. Truly and properly, however, that which is conceived and understood in this most sublime notion of blessedness, one might justly say is the divine nature itself. For thus the great Paul names God, when, out of all the divine titles, he places the name "Blessed" first in one of his epistles, writing in these words: "The blessed and only Potentate, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone has immortality, dwelling in light B which no man has seen, nor can see, to whom be honor and eternal power." C For all these sublime thoughts concerning God, in my judgment, contain the definition of blessedness. For if anyone were asked what blessedness is, he would certainly not stray from a right and pious answer if, following the voice of Paul, he were to say that the "Blessed" which is called such properly and primarily, is that nature which is above all; but the blessedness that is found among men is such by participation in that which truly is—which is multiplied and receives various names according to the nature and condition of those things which are derived from another by participation. Therefore, the definition of human blessedness is likeness to the Divine. Since, then, the truly good—or rather that which is beyond the good—is alone blessed and the object naturally to be desired, by which everything that is a partaker of it is made blessed, the divine scripture of the Psalms rightly, by a certain artificial and natural sequence, D shows us the way that leads to this, in a manner that is simple in appearance and free from elaborate teaching, even while it teaches appropriately in various and manifold ways how blessedness is to be acquired by the creature. It is possible, therefore, even from the first hymn itself, to gain some conception concerning the subject at hand, how the discourse, having divided virtue into three parts, testifies to the blessedness of each part according to a fitting proportion. For now, by calling blessed the alienation from evil, as having become the beginning
of inclination toward the better; after this, the meditation of sublime and more divine things, as already begetting in us a habit of the better; then, the likeness to the divine which through these is brought to perfection in those who are being perfected: for the sake of which even the preceding are called blessed. He signifies this by the ever-flourishing tree, to which the life perfected by virtue is made similar. A
CHAPTER II
But in order that we may more accurately understand the teaching concerning the virtues which the discourse sets forth through the entire course of the Psalms, it would be well for us, first, to distinguish for ourselves, setting forward just as in a technical and methodical way—without departing from the proposed work—how the lover of such a life can attain it. For thus we shall better discern the sequence and consistency of the doctrine which we have previously set forth. It is necessary, therefore, that he who intends to turn himself toward virtue should first distinguish the nature of goodness from that of evil which is opposed to goodness, having noted the proper characteristics of each, so that their concept may remain unmixed and not confused by any contagion of communion. C And while the marks which belong properly to each of them may perhaps be others as well, the more general ones, at least in my judgment, are these: namely, that the pleasure and delight which befalls men from them depends partly on the sense and partly on the soul; for wickedness tickles the sense, but virtue exhilarates the soul. D A consequence of this is that, through commendation and blame, the minds of the hearers are turned away from vices and are led toward virtue. For the reproach of an evil life produces hatred thereof, while the praise of goodness kindles the desire for better things. After this, in order that the commendation of an honest life may be made more effective, and the reproach of wickedness more vivid, mention must be made of those who excelled in the beauty of virtue and of those who became notorious for vices and shameful deeds. For examples of different kinds of life, fittingly proposed, strain and steady the disposition of the soul, attracting the mind with hope toward the pursuit and cultivation of all that is best, and schooling and inciting it toward the flight and detestation of similar studies through the reproach of those who have led a shameful life. Beyond all these things, it will be necessary to arrange the entire method of instruction for both in a somewhat more detailed and concise manner; for it will either demonstrate what is right and honorable, or it will dissuade from evil deeds; so that as for the former, it may lead the hearer by the hand, as it were, through certain instructions and admonitions, but as for wickedness, it may lead him away from it through discourses framed for dissuasion.
A Since this has been clarified, and because it is entirely contrary to nature for it to reject all pleasure—I mean the pleasure that is dear to the body, for the joy of the soul is far removed from irrational and slavish delectation—and because we have already recognized the distinct mark of each of these two lives, the life in virtue and the life in vice, knowing that through vice the sensory faculties of our flesh are flattered, whereas virtue becomes a joy of the soul to those who have achieved it; yet for those who are currently being initiated into the higher life, to whom sense still seems to be the criterion of what is good, the soul does not yet have the capacity to see the good clearly, being still untrained and unaccustomed to such understanding—for toward anything unknown, even if it be most excellent, our desire remains unmoved, and if desire does not pre-exist, no pleasure can arise from an object that is not longed for, as desire is the path to pleasure—it is necessary, then, to devise something of this sort for those who have not yet tasted of that pure and divine pleasure, through which the teachings of virtue will be accepted B along with it, sweetened by something that delights the senses; just as it is customary for physicians to do when they make some bitter and difficult-to-take medicinal remedy easily taken by the sick by seasoning it with the sweetness of honey.
If, then, the introduction to the life of virtue has been perfectly articulated by us according to the aforementioned plan—that it is necessary first to separate from one another the opposing pursuits, then to mark each of them with its own sign, and after that to exalt the one with discourse while making the other, which is to be avoided, a subject of reproach; and moreover, to strengthen the mind toward both by the examples of eminent men, and by specific admonitions both to point out the road that leads to the good and to dissuade from what is worse, and to make the harsh and manly quality of virtue sweet to those who are still in their infancy by sweetening it through C something that delights our senses—it is time to consider how, through this art of training which has been examined, all the instruction through the Psalms has been brought forward to us, both turning us away from malice and drawing us toward the study of virtue.
CHAPTER III
D Beginning, therefore—for we shall start from what comes last—let us examine the rationale through which, being that the life lived according to virtue is so harsh and strenuous, it has made the enigmatic teaching of the mysteries and the divine secrets, and the theological doctrine wrapped in inexplicable coverings, so easy to grasp and pleasant, that not only
A should men who are perfect and those whose soul’s senses are already purified attain this erudition, but women also claim it for themselves as their own property; and that it might bring pleasure to infants like a rattle, and to the aged serve in the place of a staff and a rest; and that those whose age is at its peak might consider the gift of this doctrine to be their own; and that he who is of a sad mind and ill-affected due to some event might believe that the grace of this Scripture has been divinely sent for his sake. Furthermore, those who travel by land or sea, and those who practice sedentary trades, and—to sum things up in a few words—all men and women of every kind of life, both sick and healthy, consider that they suffer a loss if they do not always carry this sublime instruction in their mouths. Now, indeed, even banquets and marriage celebrations take this philosophy into their joys as a part of their mirth, not to mention that divine hymnody accustomed to be held in the nightly vigils through the psalms, and the Church’s careful assiduity in the chanting of these.
What, then, is the cause of that ineffable pleasure with which great David suffused his songs; B by reason of which the discipline of the Psalms is so pleasing and acceptable to mortals? Perhaps it might be easy for anyone to state the cause for which we are so delighted when we turn our care and thought to the Psalms. For one might say that the melody of the words and their apt concinnity is the cause why we discourse upon them with such sweetness of mind. I, indeed, although I gladly confess that this is true, yet think that this very thing should not be passed over but diligently examined. For it seems that something greater and more excellent is signaled than what many judge, through the philosophy situated in melody and the modulation of words. What, then, is it that I mean? I have heard one of the wise men, when discoursing on our nature, affirm that man is a small world, holding within himself all things C that are found in the great world. Now the arrangement of this whole is a certain musical harmony and convenience, coupled with itself in a multiform and varied order and concinnity, and consistent with itself; from which concert it can never at any time be torn away, even if there is a manifold difference and change in individual kinds of things. For just as happens in the plectrum or instrument which a musician uses, when he artfully touches the strings and produces a harmonious concert by the variety of sounds—so that if the sound were the same in all of them, that varied melody would by no means be created—the same happens in the temperament of this universe; which, consisting of the mutability of singular things, is connected to itself by a certain ordered and immutable series and convenience, and, bringing about the concord and conspiracy of the parts with the whole, produces that harmonic melody which is consonant with itself from every D part [and]
A hears the glory of God working these things within them, told forth. For truly the hymn of the inaccessible and ineffable glory of God, brought into such a rhythm, is the concord of all creation with itself, tempered through opposites. For rest and motion are in opposition to one another; and yet these are linked together in the nature of existing things. A certain inexplicable mixture of opposites is observed in them, so that in motion rest is made clear, and in that which is not moved, the ever-moving is made manifest. For all things in heaven are always moved, either being carried around in the fixed sphere, or revolving in the opposite direction through the planets. Yet the order within these always stands and remains in the same state, never at any time departing from the state in which it is to something else, but always existing in the same way and remaining in the same condition. B Therefore, the union of the standing with the moving, occurring through a regulated and immutable harmony in all things, is a musical concord, producing a tempered and divine hymnody of the power that holds the whole together. Being an auditor of this, it seems to me, the great David in one of his psalms said that not only the other powers praise God, but the sun and the moon, and the heavens of heavens, and the water above the heavens, and mentions all other things that creation contains. For the breathing together and sympathy of all things with one another, ordered and governed by arrangement, by system, and by succession, is the first and archetypal and true music; which the Harmonizer of all things through the ineffable Word of wisdom artfully strikes upon through the things that are always happening in wisdom. C If, then, the whole universe is a certain musical harmony, of which God is the craftsman and creator, just as the Apostle says; and man is a little world, which has been made as a likeness of Him who harmonized the world; then whatever the Word knows to be true of the great world, it naturally sees also in the small; for the part is entirely akin to the whole. For just as in an D insignificant fragment of glass, one may see the whole orb of the sun through the shining part, as in a mirror, as far as the smallness of the shining surface allows; so also in the little world—I mean in human nature—the whole music observed in the universe is beheld, corresponding through the part to the whole, as far as the whole is captured by the part. And this shows...
A the organic structure of our body, which nature has skillfully fashioned for musical work. You see the pipe of the windpipe, the bridge of the roof of the mouth, the song of the cithara through tongue, cheeks, and mouth as if through strings and a plectrum.
Since everything that is according to nature is friendly to nature, and music has been proven to be natural to us, for this reason the great David blended melody with his philosophy of the virtues; he sprinkled it like a certain sweetness of honey upon those sublime doctrines, through which nature in a way beholds itself B and heals itself. For the healing of nature is the harmonious adjustment of life, which it seems to me the melody suggests through enigmas. For perhaps this is itself an exhortation toward a higher state of life. It implies that the character of those who live in virtue should not be discordant, unruly, or dissonant, nor should it stretch the strings beyond measure—for the fitting harmony of the strings is completely broken if it is stretched too much—nor again, on the other hand, should it slacken the tone into excess through pleasure. For the soul becomes deaf and voiceless when it is rendered limp by such passions. It teaches us to tighten and loosen the tone at the proper time in all other things as well, looking to this, so that our manner of life in these habits might remain at all times harmonious and well-rhythmed, neither excessively slackened nor stretched beyond measure. C Hence, history also bears witness to the great deeds of this divine music performed by David: for when he perceived that Saul had at times become insane and had departed from his right mind, he calmed that affection with song in such a way that his mind returned to its natural state. It is manifest from these things, therefore, toward what the enigma of the melody tends: it teaches that the passions and disturbances of the soul, which are accustomed to be stirred up variously in this life by various events, must be tamed and restrained.
But this too must not be passed over without reflection: that these melodies of ours are not made in the way that songs are composed by those outside our discipline. For the melody and measure do not consist in the sonorous series and connection of words, as one can see among them, for whom rhythm is crafted from the apt composition of accents, with the tone in the sounds now depressed, now raised, D now shortened, now lengthened. Rather, the melody is joined to the divine words without any contrived or artificial effort, and it reveals, as far as possible, the meaning underlying the words through the very reinforcement of the voice according to its pitch and composition. The seasoning of this food, therefore, is of such a kind that the food of doctrine is sweetened as if by certain condiments.
CHAPTER IV
A It is now time to consider the banquet of virtues itself by means of reason, in accordance with the technical theory previously set forth for us. For at the outset it is possible to find virtue distinguished from vice by clear signs, so that the difference between each of these and its opposite is unconfused and utterly distinct. For from the joy that arises in us from them, it is shown what the property of these pursuits is: vice delights the senses of the body, while virtue delights the soul. Thus, the nature of the subject matter, discovered from these signs, is unmistakable and certain.
B This can be found, among other things—both those that are at hand and those that lie hidden in the deep contemplation of concepts—in many of the psalms, and most especially in the fourth psalm, in which he says that those who do not distinguish falsehood and vanity from truth are "hard of heart" [Ps. IV, 3], but that they love what does not exist and overlook what remains and is worthy of being loved. For he said that holiness alone is truly to be marveled at, and that all other things which are pursued by men in the place of goods reside in opinion, not existing in themselves, but seeming to have being in the vain estimation of men. And so that he might reveal the doctrine concerning these things more clearly, he continues, saying that many define the good in terms of things that appear, asserting that only that which can show itself to the senses is to be numbered among C goods. "For many," he says, "say, Who will show us good things?" [Ps. IV, 7]. But he who turns his eyes toward virtue scorns this servile judgment of the good and views the right and noble, illuminated by much light. By this he denotes that divine and sublime exultation and that light which shines forth from the divine face, which the nature of the senses is not permitted to reach. "For the light of your face, O Lord, has been signed upon us" [Ps. IV, 7]. For the face of God, viewed in terms of characteristics, seems to me to be nothing other than the virtues; for by these the divine form is characterized. And having said this, he mentions the perfect sign of virtue: "You have given joy in my heart" [Ps. IV, 8], putting "heart" in the place of soul and mind; for it is not possible for the mind to be delighted by the allurements of vice. D He distinguishes this material and worldly prosperity from the joy of the heart, saying to those who look only at what is present that the belly is the rule for judging what is right. For by saying that grain and wine are multiplied for such as these, he has by this part encompassed in his discourse all the pleasures pertaining to the belly and feasting; these are the beginnings of all material occupation, regarding which effort is successful in nothing.
A For there is no storehouse in human nature for the pleasure that occurs in an instant, such that men might lay up and preserve for themselves that delight which they strive with all their might to procure. Rather, like one of those deceptive phantasms, at the very moment it is believed to be grasped by those who love pleasure, it suddenly vanishes and recedes into nothingness. Yet, after the departure of this vain phantom, a single trace is left behind: shame—a deep and indelible mark imprinted upon those through whom it passed, making it possible, by the manner and art of hunters, to discern the nature of the beast from its very tracks. For those hunters, even when the prey is not visible, recognize the animal by its footprint.
If, therefore, a boar or a lion is recognized B by its own particular tracks, it is entirely consistent that the nature of pleasure should also be discerned in the trace it leaves behind. But indeed, that trace is shame. Observe therefore, that that which imprints such a mark upon the soul is either shame itself or the effective cause of shame. But this has been noted by us only in passing and while attending to something else. For our primary intention was to demonstrate, through the examples in the Psalms themselves, what the end of life is for both those addicted to virtue and those addicted to vice. Therefore, in the aforesaid Psalm, he established that the end of virtue is peace and tranquility, and an uniform and unmixed affection and disposition, free from the passions and disturbances of the soul, which is established in the hope C of communion with God; whereas the state contrary to this, he has made manifest through silence itself. Moreover, he cries out more frequently in the Psalms: "The unrighteous shall be destroyed, the seed of the wicked shall perish," and, "He that loveth iniquity hateth his own soul," and, "He shall rain snares upon sinners," and countless other things similar to these. The entire book of Psalms is filled with praises of virtue and rebukes of the wicked, and the mention of history looks toward two principal ends: it causes you both to emulate and admire the virtue of illustrious men, and to flee the wickedness of those who have given themselves over entirely to shameful acts. For when he rouses you to virtue by examples, he says: "Moses and Aaron among his priests, and Samuel among those who call upon his name. They called upon the Lord, and he heard them. In a pillar of cloud he spoke unto them." D But when he intends to set before the eyes the pitiable end of malice, then he recounts what they suffered who had dedicated themselves entirely to wickedness: "The earth opened and swallowed Dathan, and covered over the congregation of Abiron; a flame burned up the sinners." And: "Make them like Madian and Sisara." And: "Put their princes like Oreb and Zeb and Zebee and Salmana, all their princes," and other things of this kind not
a few. The Psalter suggests to you particular exhortations from beginning to end; it omits no part of the admonition to the praise and honor of honesty, and also [explains] in what manner malice may be avoided: all things are certainly full of maxims leading to honesty; for the acquisition of good is, in any case, the flight and destruction of its contrary. It would be superfluous to set forth all these things with exactness, since it is manifest to those who peruse the volume of the Psalms what it is that should be made clearer here by a more exact discourse.
CHAPTER V.
The entire treatise of the Psalms is divided into five parts. And what is the technical arrangement and division in these sections? The description of the sections becomes manifest, ending uniformly in certain divine doxologies, which it is possible to recognize according to the division of the Psalmodies pointed out by us. And the number of psalmodies in each section is as follows: Of the first, forty; of the second, one and thirty; of the third, seventeen; and of the fourth, the same; of the fifth, five and forty. The first part stands, therefore, upon the fortieth [psalm] from the first, the end of which is: "Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, from age to age, and unto the age; let it be, let it be." The second [stands] upon the seventy-first, the end of which goes thus: "Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, who alone does wonders, and blessed be the name of his glory unto the age, and unto the age of the age. And all the earth shall be filled with his glory; let it be, let it be." The third [part] concludes at the eighty-eighth [psalm], and this one also ends in a similar limit. For it is as follows: "Blessed be the Lord for ever; let it be, let it be." The limit of the fourth section is the hundred and fifth psalm, the end of which is similar to the rest: "Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, from age to age, and even unto the age; and all the people shall say, Let it be, let it be." The fifth part extends from this to the last, the limit of which is: "Let every spirit praise the Lord."
What then is the technical order underlying these, it is time to say in a few words. In the first [part], he brings those living in wickedness to a stop from their wayward error; and he draws them toward the choice of the better, so that they may no longer proceed in the deceits of the ungodly, nor stand fast in the deep path of sin, nor practice wickedness as if it were fixed and established for themselves, but rather be joined to the divine law, having perfected for themselves through practice the path that goes not astray, so that the habit toward the better may strike root in them like a plant.
A The first approach to what is good, then, is a departure from its opposites, through which participation in the better comes to be. But he who has already tasted of virtue, and through his own experience has come to understand the nature of the good, is no longer in such a condition that he must needs be drawn away from affection for vice and incited toward virtue by some external exhortation; rather, he himself burns, as it were, with a kind of thirst for the good and the honorable. For the writer of the Psalms compares the vehemence and violence of desire to thirst, citing the thirstiest nature among living creatures, so that he may most vividly set before our eyes the intensity of desire through an animal that is tortured and burns with thirst beyond measure. This animal, he says, is the stag, whose nature it is to fatten itself by feeding on poisonous beasts. For the humors of these beasts are hot and scorching, and when the stag eats of them, it necessarily becomes drier, having been poisoned by the humor of these B beasts. And for this reason it desires water more vehemently, that it may heal the dryness arising from such food. He, therefore, who has initiated a life devoted to virtue in the first part of the Psalm, and has known the sweetness of what he desires by tasting it, and has consumed every creeping species of desire within himself, and has devoured his immoderate appetites instead of beasts with the teeth of temperance, thirsts for the presence and communion of God more than the stag longs for the springs of water. Moreover, he who has fallen upon the fountain after an ardent thirst draws as much water as his desire is able to draw at will. And he who receives within himself that which he has desired is full of what he has craved. For it is not in the way that the fullness of the body is again emptied once it has been filled, nor does that drink remain idle within him; rather, the divine fountain, in whomever it may dwell, draws to itself him who has approached it, and bestows some part of its own power and capacity. C
CHAPTER VI
But indeed, the power to perceive and to bring about all kinds of things is proper to the Divinity. Therefore, he who receives within himself that which he has desired is himself also endowed with this faculty of perception, and he contemplates the nature of all things. For this reason, he has begun the third section of the Psalm with this principle, in which the discourse investigates, above all, how the justice of the divine judgment will be preserved in the inequality of this life, since, for the most part, happiness in this life does not fall to men according to their merits or the dignity of each individual; D for often it is possible to see two extremes in the same person, so that he is at once the greatest in malice and in perennial prosperity. When anyone looks upon this, he is troubled in his soul, lest perhaps it might be more [in keeping] with the human condition that...
A what is called worse, and conversely [that] evil, which in reality is ranked in the share of the better, [should be chosen]. For if justice is praised, but he who is diligent in it acts wickedly, and if malice is slandered, yet it bestows lasting enjoyments of all those things which are eagerly sought upon those who are diligent for it, how is it possible not to think B that malice is to be preferred for the choice of life over virtue—that which is condemned over that which is praised? He, therefore, who is exalted in mind, and who extends his eye as if from some watchtower standing out to those who are distant, sees the difference between malice and virtue, in that the judgment of these comes not from present things, but from future ones. For with the intuitive and discerning eye of the soul, having perceived as if it were present that which is laid up for the good through hope, and having passed over in his soul everything that is seen, and having entered into the heavenly C sanctuaries, he condemns the indiscernibility of those who, in a small-minded way, entrust the judgment of the good to the sensory faculties. Wherefore he says: "For what is there for me in heaven, and what did I desire from you upon the earth?" In the same part of the discourse, he wonderfully magnifies and exalts the heavenly [element] in speech, while he contemptuously and mockingly disparages and loathes that which is sought upon earth by the eyes of the foolish. It is as if one born in prison, judging the darkness in which D he was reared and grew up to be some great good, then, having shared in the grace of the open air, condemns his former judgment, saying, "To what spectacles of the sun and stars, and of all the beauty which is seen in the heaven, did I prefer the familiar darkness, through inexperience of the better!" For which reason he condemns his own past lack of judgment regarding the good, saying that he was brutish as long as he saw the good in those [earthly] things. But when he became with God—and God is the Word—and was led to the right hand, and the Word becomes a right-hand guide for him through counsel—and he saw the glory in virtue, through which the ascent occurs for those who look toward heaven, then he uses those expressions, of which one makes the good in the heavens a matter of wonder, and the other spits out the worthless and vain nature of the zeal for this life by which one has been deceived. And the whole statement is in this manner: "I became as a beast with you," signifying the irrational instinct in such things. Then he adds: "But I am always with you." Having said this, he also adds the manner of the union with God, so that we too might learn how he who was at first like a beast is afterwards united with God. "For you held," he says, "my right hand." By the transition of the mind to the right, he signifies God's help. "And in your counsel you guided me," for guidance to the good does not occur without divine counsel. "And with glory you took me up." He rightly contrasts glory with shame. Which, just as
a chariot and a kind of wing, becomes [the ornament] of him who is taken by the divine hand, when someone alienates himself from shameful deeds. And thus he added to the aforementioned things: "For what is there for me in heaven, and what have I desired from you on earth?" This is what many mortals do even to this day: when such a store of good things is laid up for them in heaven, at their own discretion, nevertheless they strive with prayers to obtain from God those shadowy and imaginary deceptions—rule, I mean, or honor, or wealth, or that wretched little glory for whose desire the human race is insane. But he who is conversant in heavenly things, and does so in this fitting order, adds: "But for me it is good to cleave to God, to place my hope in the Lord." By this he signifies that he who clings to Him through hope in some way grows onto God, having become one with Him. B
CHAPTER VII
Therefore, such being the case in the third section of the ascent to the heights, he who has advanced his mind to such a degree of elevation, having again grasped the superior step, becomes greater and more sublime than himself, in the fourth part, as it were, passing through a third heaven, according to Paul, and becoming higher than the previously traversed eminences. For after these things there succeeds no longer a common man, but one who has already clung and been joined to God. The discourse of the following part begins thus: "A prayer of Moses, the man of God." For such a one is already such that he no longer needs to be tutored by the law, but becomes an instructor of the law to others; such was that sublime Moses of whom we have already heard, who willingly shook off regal dignity like dust clinging to the soles of his feet. Who, for forty years, removed himself from the company of men, living alone with the Alone, and in his quietude, with a mind suspended, was free for the contemplation of invisible realities; who after these things was suffused with ineffable light, and freed the feet of his soul from the leathern and dead covering. Who, by mutually succeeding plagues, wore down the Egyptian army and tyrant, and having rescued Israel from tyranny through light and water; for whom, after the departure from Egypt, all time was one continuous day; never being darkened by the shadows of night. For after the daily course, the rays of the sun were succeeded by another light produced from the cloud in a new manner; so that while the sun, having finished its prescribed course, was setting for them, the light of the lamp refulgent from the pillar permanently remained without any change, and without any hesitation took the place of the solar rays. Who made the bitter and undrinkable water sweet by means of the wood, and transformed the rock into a spring for the thirsty, who
A exchanged earthly food for heavenly. Who in the divine darkness saw with the keenness of his mind the Invisible, and described the tabernacle not made by hands, and worthily contemplated the order of the priesthood. Who received the tablets made by God, and, having broken them, inscribed them anew; who, bearing on his face the signs of the divine power that had appeared to him, and by the radiance shining from him, as if by darts of rays, turned away the faces of those unworthy to meet him. Who by fire and by a chasm condemned those who rose up against the priesthood, and utterly destroyed those who were injurious toward the divine grace; who turned the sorcery of Balaam into piety. Whose end of life is reported to be most sublime. Who, having come to the summit of the mountain, left behind for the sun no trace, nor any memorial of earthly weariness. Who did not lose the character of his beauty through the passage of time, but preserved in his mutable nature that which is unalterable in goodness.
This is he who leads us in the fourth ascent, and who lifts up with himself him who has already become great through the three already traversed ages. For he who has arrived at this height stands, in a certain way, as a boundary between the mutable and the immutable nature, and mediates fittingly between the extremes; bringing B supplications to God on behalf of those who have been alienated by sin, and conveying the mercy of the superior power down to those in need of mercy. So that from this we might also learn that by as much as one departs from earthly and low-lying things, by so much the more does he draw near to the nature that surpasses all understanding; and he imitates the Divine by beneficence, doing that which is proper to the divine nature. I mean the doing of good to all who are in need of such doing, as much as they remain in need of beneficence.
I have understood the meaning of this psalm C of which the inscription is: « A prayer of Moses, the man of God. » For since the human race had been mastered by the evil of sin, and was severed from union with the Good, it was being stirred up by contrary passions, and was in need of some intercession, to call back the one who had the power to save it from destruction; the man of God takes on the role of an advocate, defending the fall of his kin, but also pleading with the Divine for the compassion of the lost. For immediately he reasons in a way before the One who hears, and says that what is fixed and immovable and always the same in every good pertains solely to God; but that the human state, existing in change and alteration, never abides in the same condition, D nor even if it should ascend toward the better, nor if it should fall from the participation of the better. For which cause he asks that the Unchangeable might become a refuge for salvation for the one who is wandering, throughout every generation.
A Thus indeed the words of the Psalm stand: "Lord, you have been a refuge for us from generation to generation." And why does he affirm this? Because, he says, you are before the creation, containing every interval of time, from whence the nature of time began, and unto what limit it will cease; for the limit of the unending is infinity. "Before," he says, "the mountains were brought forth, or the earth and the world were formed, even from age to age, you are." But the human race, on account of the mutability of nature, fell down from the height of all good to the abject and slippery condition of sin. B Therefore, he says, stretch out your hand, O you who are prone to no fall, to one who is stumbling; that which you are by nature, make this also for us; and do not cast him down from that height in which you abide, into the humility of sin. Afterward, having become as it were a minister of the voice of his Lord, he brings forth a sentence full of humanity, saying: "Because you said: Return, O sons of men"; by which voice a certain dogma is contained; for the discourse looks to our nature, and suggests a medicine for evils. For it says: Since you men, being exposed to change, have fallen away from the good, make use again of change toward that which is honest, and return by a reciprocal course to that from which you have fallen. Whereby it comes to pass that it is in the free faculty of men to persevere according to their own will in those things which they wish, whether they be good or bad. That which follows embraces another dogma: "For a thousand years in your eyes, Lord, are as the day of yesterday which has passed; and those which are held for nothing, their years shall be." What therefore is dogmatically taught to us herein? Namely, that to him who by repentance returns again to the good, even if his life be marked with infinite stains of crimes—such that that collection of sins seems to be of a thousand years—the whole of that heap is accounted for nothing with God in the case of one who has turned; C for the divine eye always sees the present, but does not reckon that which has passed; but it is judged by God as one day, or a part of our night, which has already passed and slipped by. But that which is present in wickedness, even if it is lightly esteemed as nothing by those who sin, is seen by God as a multitude of years. He says, therefore: "Those things which are held for nothing, their years shall be." And it is well and ingeniously that he calls sins "nothing"; because he who does evil is accustomed in a certain way to consider the sin committed as nothing, and to find certain apologies for each of the things that are done in wickedness, so that it is prompt for anyone in any evil committed to say: "Desire is nothing, and anger is nothing, and none of such things is anything." For these are movements of nature; but nature is the work of God.
Therefore A he says, that "what is held for nothing by them," if it continues in the will and purpose of the one acting, and does not pass away, is judged by the divine eye individually, as if it were a multitude of years. Again, he describes the transience of our nature in his discourse, so as to move God all the more to mercy. For he teaches by a clear example what we ought to consider the misery of our nature to be: namely, that it is nothing other than morning and evening—that is to say, youth and old age—living and flourishing together at the dawn, but nevertheless passing away. And after this, when the moisture of our age has been consumed, and the plant has shed its flower, and the beauty innate to it has faded, what remains is nothing other than drying out and withering. For thus says the Word: "Because in the morning it may bloom and pass away, in the evening it may fall, harden, and dry up." This B is human nature. In what follows, he further pities and deplores the human condition, saying that the life of men has been consumed by wrath, as if it were being tossed and agitated by some wind—the onset of fury. It is clear, moreover, that by "wrath" and "fury" he signifies the operation by which we depart and fall away from God, which brings an end to life for men; its disturbance is what brings rest to an end. Thus, the text runs: "For we have failed in thy wrath, and in thy fury we have been troubled." To these things he adds, in natural order, that it is not fitting for the spectacle of human wickedness to be set before God, nor ought our life, soiled by sins and transgressions, appear before that inviolate countenance. Thus does he speak in this wording, interpreting such a thought: "Thou hast set our iniquities before thee." As if someone, by adding the word "Why," were to make the discourse clearer, the sense of this passage would be: It is fitting for you to have beautiful things before your eyes, but iniquity is unworthy of being looked upon by you. Therefore, make men such that they may not be unworthy of your gaze; but let our life be worthy to be shown to you. Insofar as it pertains to the present state, "all our days have failed"; for that which is not in you, is not at all. For those over C whom the power and force of wrath prevail, lead a life that is shadowy and not at all subsistent, after the likeness of a spider's web. For just as that appears to be something as long as it has been knit together, but if someone thrusts out a hand, it immediately vanishes, dissolving at the touch of the fingers; so too does human life, always entangled in vain and inconstant pursuits, as if in certain airy threads, weave for itself a non-subsistent web—a web which, if someone were to take hold of it with a firm D disposition, would cause that vain pursuit to slip from his grasp, and it would vanish into nothing; for all things pursued in this life are [...end of page]
to those who are as spiders in their mortal existence, an empty opinion, and nothing subsisting. Honor, dignity, nobility of birth, pride, haughtiness, riches, and the like, are mere opinion, and not reality; for esteem is but vanity, and not a substance. Therefore, these things require the healing of God; for I believe this sentiment to be subject to that word: «For the days of our years in them are seventy years; but if in strength, eighty years; and the greater part of them is labor and sorrow.» Not that life is laborious for him who lives beyond this limit, but that the greater part of this short life is consumed in labor and sorrow. Infancy is labor, youth is toil, and man's mid-life is more than ever burdened with labors. Old age, especially through its very gray hairs and wrinkles, bears singular witness to the abundance of labor. B Again, he contemplates another means whereby the Divine Power might be propitiated toward men. The meaning of the words is this: The weight of our sins brings upon us a great punishment; yet the substance of our nature is so insignificant that it cannot contain the wrath which is deservedly brought on for our transgressions. But even if that which is brought upon us for punishment be mild and moderate, it will be sufficient for the correction and instruction of those who bear it patiently. If, therefore, the mildness of the retribution is sufficient for instruction and punishment, who shall endure the strength of His wrath? Or who shall be able to measure out the fear of His anger? C If, then, the magnitude of wrath is intolerable, but the action toward us is undertaken with benevolence and gentleness, «thus make known to us thy right hand,» that we may be capable of it, in wisdom and not in vengeance, since our correction proceeds from Thee. The meaning having been thus set forth, it will be consequent to render the divinely inspired words themselves, which are as follows: «For meekness has come upon us, and we shall be instructed. Who knows the power of thine anger, and can number thy wrath according to thy fear? So make thy right hand known to me, and those whose hearts are instructed in wisdom.» It is indeed beautiful that which is subjoined in order, since he says that we, on account of the weakness of our nature, cannot contain the magnitude of wrath that sin excites against us, and yet we are in need of correction; but let salvation rather correct and instruct us than the punishment inflicted upon our sins. Therefore, convert us, O Lord, without any delay interposed toward grace. For that word «how long» signifies the hastening of grace: «And be thou entreated for thy servants,» for, he says, Thou wilt not be reconciled to strangers, but to Thine own servants. Then, as if he had already obtained grace and had seen that light by which the darkness of those who wander in this life is illuminated, and from whence the day of virtue dawns, he says: «We were filled in the morning with thy mercy, and we rejoiced and were delighted.» For Thy grace succeeded the time D when we were held immersed in sins,
in Thee joy the time in the humiliation of sin, and the years of malice have passed away. For thus we understand that "for the days wherein Thou hast humbled us, for the years wherein we have seen evil." And thus he takes courage, naming as children of the works of God those who have been illuminated through repentance. "Look," he says, "upon Thy servants and upon Thy works." He points to the patriarchs around Abraham. For these are truly the works of God. "And direct the sons of them." For they who do the works of Abraham become children also of the patriarchs, being adopted into their kindred through virtue. Then in the last parts he joins the human to God through purity, praying that the brightness of God may shine upon our own life through a pure way of living. "Let," he says, "the brightness of the Lord our God be upon us," so that all the endeavors of our life may bear saving fruit, and that all things which we do may look toward one goal. For this reason, having spoken in the plural—that is, "And the works of our hands do Thou direct upon us"—he reduces the many into one work, adding, "And the work of our hands do Thou direct." For the various and manifold care of the virtues becomes A active B in the one who performs the right action. And this is the salvation of the one who attains it.
Thus at the fourth degree of the psalmic ascent, the Prophet, having raised the mind of those ascending with him, and having risen above all the vanity which is coveted by most in this life, demonstrates the spider-like, fleeting, and groundless deception of the material life, which leads those seduced and vainly deceived by it to no end that is good. C
CHAPTER VIII
Next, as to a supreme summit and the highest degree of contemplation, through the fifth part he leads one who is able to climb to such a height, having flown over the interweavings of the worldly "spiders" with a firm wing. For the vain and feeble, flying with a weak and languid flight—like flies that hover about the thin and slight things of this life—are entangled and bound, as if by certain nets, in the coating of such threads; I mean by pleasures, honors, and glories, and by various desires, being wrapped in certain spider-like webs, becoming prey and food for that beast which is wont to hunt through such things. But if anyone, eagle-like in nature, D looking more sharply toward the ray of light with an unwavering eye of the soul, and stretching himself toward the height, should happen upon such spider-webs, by the mere breeze of his swift wings and the rush of his flight, he dissipates and destroys whatever he encounters by the force of his pinions. The sublime Prophet, therefore, having taken up such a one with him to the height, above
establishes the peak of this fifth ascent, in which the complement and total sum of human salvation is contained. For in the part which precedes this, he philosophized much, through the mouth of Moses, concerning that which is mutable and that which is immutable; for the latter always remains, which is, but the former is always coming to be, which is not—for change is a transition from that in which something is, into that in which it is not. And having shown that by the same power, according to authority, nature flows away toward evil, and again through conversion is brought back to the good, so that it is possible for the splendor of God to shine again upon human life; now, he reveals in his discourse all the grace that comes to us from God, setting it in multiple ways before the eyes of those who contemplate the divine wonders from on high. For he was not satisfied to make the grace of God manifest in one way; rather, he exaggerates in many ways the miseries which we have created for ourselves through sin; and in like manner, he sets forth the divine aid by various means, so that we may return to the good, in order that, for the greatness of the benefits, we might also have various occasions for giving thanks, and that the act of thanksgiving toward God might become more abundant for such great gifts.
Statim enim ab exordio orationis ita canit: « Confitemini Domino, B quoniam bonus, quoniam in sæculum misericordia ejus. » By the name of confession he refers to the act of thanksgiving, not understanding it as a mere pronouncement of divine praises; for he bids us glorify God for his goodness alone: signifying by this, clearly, that whatever is good and salvific that comes to mortals from God has all come by his grace and goodness, when there was in us no cause for receiving it. On the contrary, when we were overwhelmed by every kind of wickedness, he himself in no way departed from his nature, but did what he is; for it is not fitting for him who is good by nature to act other than what he is by nature. « Let them say, » he says, « those who have been redeemed by the Lord, whom he redeemed from the hand of the enemy, and gathered them from the regions, from the rising of the sun and from the west, and from the north and from the sea. » The discourse announces the complete C and perfected return of the human race toward the good. For redemption signifies the leading back from captivity; and God gave as the price of redemption himself for those who were held captive by death, and gave it to him who had power over death. And since all were under the power of death, he redeemed all thence with this price, so that no one might be left under the empire of death after the general liberation of all. For it is not possible that anyone should be subject to death, when death has now been abolished and completely removed.
For this reason, the whole world being divided into four parts according to its location, the discourse leaves no part without a share of divine redemption. D
A For it says: “From the east and west, and from the north and from the sea,” by the sea indicating the southern region.
Having thus briefly set forth the beneficence of God poured out upon all mankind, the discourse thereafter explains, through certain artifices, the straying of men toward wickedness and the guidance of each person by God’s help back to the better way. It says as follows: “They wandered in the wilderness in a waterless land.” For they had abandoned, it says, the Way. The Way is the Lord. They wandered in the wilderness outside of God’s oversight, for it was entirely dry and moistureless, separated from the spiritual dew. B Therefore, wandering in this pathless place, they were unable to find the city of God, in which the dwelling-place of the worthy resides. For it says that “they found no city of habitation, hungry and thirsty.” For while their strength was failing from starvation, their wickedness was greatly intensifying and increasing. For whence could they have obtained nourishment in a parched and barren land? Whence could they have assuaged their thirst in a waterless C place? It is clear, however, that the prophecy does not mean bread by the name of food, nor water by the name of drink, but it calls the true nourishment "food," and that spiritual drink "drink." And the Lord becomes both of these, offering Himself appropriately to those in need; He becomes food for the hungry and a fountain for the thirsty.
What, therefore, was found to be the solution to such a difficulty—to the wandering, the wilderness, the misery of the waterless place, and the fainting produced by famine? O, the wonder! A single voice raised toward God in conversion turned all things for the better. “For they cried,” it says, “to the Lord when they were troubled, and He delivered them out of their necessities, and led them into a straight road, so that they might proceed to the city of habitation.” He calls the Lord Himself the Way, from which they had strayed. This Way also testifies in the Gospel that “no one comes to Me unless My Father wishes to draw him.” For this reason, God leads the wanderers onto the Way. D And this same One also becomes the city of habitation, just as the Apostle says: “In Him we live and move and have our being.”
Rightly does He bring in the exhortatory call to thanksgiving, so that those who have obtained these things might “confess to the Lord His mercies, and His wonders to the sons of men.” That is to say, let them not conceal the benefit in their ingratitude through silence, but let them proclaim the grace in thanksgiving, because He filled a soul that was empty of good things. For He satisfied, it says, “a hungry soul, and filled a hungry soul with good things.” Again, in another way, He brings the calamity of our nature before our eyes and praises the divine philanthropy and benevolence by which our nature is led toward better things; these are of the kind that He brings forward: Mortal
man departed from the light and bent toward sin, and was no longer in the uprightness of his original form, and was alienated from that which is truly life. For he says, "Those sitting in darkness and the shadow of death, bound in poverty and iron." Bound indeed, for he was unable to move away from evil, held fast by the weight of shackles. Poverty is a shackle upon what is good, like a certain iron band clamped around the heart. The cause of all these things was the disobedience to the divine law and the rejection of the counsel of the Most High. This is what he signifies when he says: "Because they provoked the words of God, and angered the counsel of the Most High." Following these, as is to be expected, come toil and the humbling of the life of such people. B Toil, because they were deprived of nourishment; humbling, because they did not wish to remain in the Most High. For he says, "Their heart was humbled in toils." And separation from power is nothing other than weakness; for who could be found to be a helper without power? Therefore he says: "They were weakened, and there was no one to help." But again, one voice transformed their calamities into prosperity: for he says, "They cried to the Lord when they were in tribulation, and He saved them from their necessities." He scatters the darkness, dissolves death, and breaks the bonds. For he adds: "And He brought them out of darkness and the shadow of death, and broke their bonds." Therefore, let this grace be proclaimed with joyful voices, since the inescapable guard of death, fortified with gates of bronze and iron bars, has been broken, just as the Prophet sings. For such was considered to be the power of death, until such violent force vanished at the arrival and presence of the true Life; since previously everything contained within it remained without danger of escape, as though held by iron bars and gates that knew not how to be broken. But, he says, "He shattered the gates of bronze, and broke the bars of iron." This, of course, is what it means to remove the path of their iniquity and to conform their life to the norm of piety; for what is the abolition of those gates other than a life established according to the prescription of justice? For he says: "He took them from the path of their iniquity." C Again in another way he represents human misery to us in his discourse, and affirms that iniquity is nothing else than humiliation and abjection. And rightly so. For another prophet's oracular word supports this opinion, when he says, "iniquity sits upon a talent of lead," showing clearly that malice is a certain weight, which by its own nature tends downward and into the depths, and draws other [things downward] with it: for he says: "For because of their iniquities they were humbled." And through...
A this, they turned away from that omnipotent food, concerning which the Word says to the first parents: "Of every tree that is in the paradise, you shall eat for food." For just as there He calls every tree the fullness of every good, so here the Word calls "every food" that true and omnipotent food, the turning away from which produces the weakness that ends in death. He speaks as follows: "Their soul abhorred every food, and they drew near to the gates of death." And again, a voice directed to God turns the calamity into a festival. "For they cried," he says, "to the Lord in their being afflicted, and He saved them from their distresses." And he narrates the manner of salvation; and the telling is plainly the Gospel. B "For He sent," he says, "His Word, and healed them, and rescued them from their corruptions." Do you see the living and ensouled Word being sent for the salvation of those who are perishing, and delivering from corruption him who was stuck in corruption? What evangelist so clearly proclaims the mystery? Therefore, he says, let the grace not go unpraised by those who have been treated well, and let the thanksgiving become a hymn for the benefits. "For let them sacrifice to Him," he says, "a sacrifice of praise, and let them recount His works in exultation."
After this, he again arranges the sufferings, and again, following the sufferings, he brings in the grace of God. He describes the thoughtlessness of men, that by abandoning the stable and unstormy life, they became "oceanic" in their choice. "For those who go down," he says, "into the sea in ships," and instead C of working the paradise in which they were previously stationed, they made their working a submerged thing. By "sea" he means this material life, which is stirred up by all the winds of temptations and tossed by the waves of successive passions. For "doing," he says, "work on many waters. They themselves saw the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep." For having become deep-sea dwellers in the wickedness of life, and having often suffered the shipwrecks of the soul, they saw in themselves the works of the philanthropy of Him who saved us from the depths. "For He spoke," he says, "and the spirit of a storm stood." And this meaning must be referred not to God, but to the enemy. For the voice of the adversary creates the "spirit of the storm." A storm, or squall, is called a violent wind D not blowing in a straight line, but coiling upon itself through a sharp whirlwind, which as soon as it falls violently upon the water, just like some
A great rock thrown into the water, the sea, being pressed down by the weight, is broken by necessity by the force of the wind, wherever the wind, having descended with pressure, falls, casting up the water on both sides to the height. For this reason he clearly adds, describing the fearful things, that together with the onset of the spirit of the storm, "the waves of the sea were lifted up," rising even to the heavens and descending even to the abysses. For truly the rising of such waves into the height—I mean the waves of the passions—becomes the cause of the descent into the abyss. And we have learned that "abyss" in many places of Scripture signifies the dwelling-place of demons. But those who are agitated by this disturbance and by the stormy surge of the waves become distraught through darkness B because of the insolence of such a voyage, laboring in their heads as if from drunkenness. For He says: "They were troubled and moved like a drunken man." But those who have once fallen out of the power of their mind have no counsel left for salvation, but all their wisdom as if suffers shipwreck and perishes. Therefore he says that "all their wisdom was swallowed up." And again, even for those who are struggling in such great evils and are living in inextricable calamity, a single voice sent to God brings salvation: for He says, "They cried to the Lord when they were troubled, and He brought them out of their necessities." And immediately that storm was changed into a favorable and navigable breeze C and the sea is calmed from the waves, being made level and peaceful through silence. "He turned his storm," he says, "into a breeze, and its waves were silent." Perhaps by the word "silence" he indicates that the waves are nothing other than certain appetitive faculties, by which he indicates the nature that is deserting and accustomed to revolt, to which the Lord said in the Gospel: "Be silent, be muzzled." He calls the grace of the spirit a "breeze," which by right thoughts, as if with a mast, brings the soul to the divine harbor, with reason holding the rudder and directing the voyage. For He says, "He led them to the harbor of their will." Having finished these things, he again commands the grace to be celebrated by the people and the Church, D all but describing the present state of the Churches, when he says that these wonders of God are sung in the seat of the leaders, through which faith is confirmed in the souls of the hearers. For he adds: "Let them exalt him in the church of the people, and let them praise him in the seat of the elders." And he adds the causes of the thanksgiving, that from God rivers, some arise, while others perish. For the streams of malice disappear, but the outlets of the virtues irrigate the places that were hitherto scorched by heat. "He set," he says, "rivers into the desert, and outlets of waters into the thirst." He calls "rivers" the influxes of the passions,
A when humans accumulate evils upon evils and, connecting them like a river, extend and prolong the track of wickedness. Furthermore, he says that he also turned the fruitful land into salt, for the soul that is fertile in evils, when it is transformed, becomes also thirst-stricken, being seasoned with the divine salt of doctrine so that wickedness might no longer grow in those who dwell there, being nourished by the wicked influxes of waters. But he teaches that the salt-sprinkled and thirst-stricken soul, which has taken up that blessed thirst, becomes a pool, surging with the gathering of virtues. "For he set," he says, "the desert into pools of waters, and the waterless land into outlets of waters." And this becomes a city, which those who hunger for righteousness inhabit. For no one who is sea-sick and devoid of appetite becomes a neighbor to such a pool and such waters, bringing along a soul filled with wickedness. "And they sow the fields and plant the vineyards." By these enigmatical terms he signifies the divine commandments and the life of virtue. For the commandment is the seed of the future harvest. Virtue is the vineyard, which through rational clusters pours out wine into the bowl of wisdom. B And these are nothing else but a multitude of blessings. "For he blessed them," he says, "and they were multiplied greatly, and he did not diminish their cattle." He calls "cattle" the submissive service of the movements of the soul, whenever each of the good things within us is useful for virtue. Anger is a good beast of burden when it becomes the yoke-mate of reason. Desire is another such beast of burden, in a certain way carrying and bearing the soul on its back, and lifting it on high when the reins of the mind are directed toward things above. And all the other cattle are increased by the blessing when our service through them is directed toward great things. Then he makes a summary of all that has been said in the following discourse. For having gone through the passions C in many ways, and having placed the divine benefits before our eyes, now once again he recapitulates briefly in his discourse. In which he says, "And they were few, and were vexed by the tribulation of evils and pain." By the word "few" he signifies the shortness and the constriction that occurred from height and magnitude to the lowly state. For "few" signifies the most brief in concept. By "vexation" he signifies the intimacy with evil. And by "tribulation and pain," he everywhere speaks of the end of the falling away from good things, as he goes through such a thing in another Psalm, saying: "The pangs of death encompassed me. The dangers of hell found me [v. 55]. I found tribulation and pain." Having called sins "pangs of death" and "dangers of hell [v. 56]," he adds the end to which the nature of sin terminates; which is nothing else but tribulation and pain; so that by the Gospel through "weeping and gnashing," D "they were few" (for "few," or "a little," with its notion signifies the shortest duration). By the word "vexed," "they were afflicted with evils," he signifies the habituation with evil and the approach to it. By "tribulation and pain" he understands the consummate end, which accompanies secession from the good; which he affirms in another Psalm, bringing forward a similar thing with these words: "The sorrows of death encompassed me, the dangers of hell found me. I found tribulation and pain"; since the sorrows of death
A designate the same thing, the end in which the nature of sin terminates, which is nothing other than tribulation and pain; this very thing is hinted at in the Gospel by "weeping and gnashing of teeth." He adds then: "An outpouring of contempt is upon their princes," and a sort of B annulment.
By these things He teaches that to be in Him who is, is truly to be. But if anyone has fallen from Him who is, he is not in being. For to be in sin is not properly to be, because malice itself in itself and according to itself is not being, since malice is a privation and a non-existence of good. Just as, therefore, he who is in Him who is, is in being, so he who has come to be in nothingness (for such is malice) has been brought to nothing, as the Word names it. And such a use of the word has been somewhat worn by the habit of those who use it. As we say that food received into flesh becomes flesh, and wine poured into water becomes water, and iron in fire is set aflame: so also he (58) who has fallen from Him who is, having come to be in nothingness, is brought to nothing. Therefore, the annulment is a non-existence in the good. And this, having come upon the authors of malice, that is, upon the first humans, was poured out, just like a pernicious stream, even upon the succession of those who followed. Since, therefore, nature was bereft of such a gift—of life, I mean—and man became poor by the robber, having been despoiled of the divine blessing, for this reason He says that He "helped the poor from poverty." For by His poverty we have become rich. And the good shepherd placed them, in place of the wild beasts, as "sheep of the family." By family He names the gathering and collection of the C accounts that lead to the obtaining of the divine power, just as Paul also testifies: "From whom every family in heaven and on earth is named." He then adds: "The upright shall see and shall fear," explaining through what has been said that he who is upright, looking toward this philanthropy, should fear. For fear is no small guardian of good things, by the memory of past events moderating him who has come to be in a passion toward future outcomes; and as this fear prevails and banishes all the ease toward evil that is introduced in us through laxity, "Every iniquity," he says, "shall stop her mouth." How blessed is that life D in which the mouth of iniquity, like some fountain of mire, shall be stopped for eternity, no longer polluting human life with its stench. This is the pinnacle of all good things, the head of all hopes, the end of all blessedness: that nature is no longer troubled by malice, but that all iniquity is banished far away; and this will be none other than the very inventor of iniquity. For this collective word, "every," signifies this; the way shall be stopped
A by which death first provided matter for mankind. When, therefore, all that is opposed to the good has been taken away, then there will receive us that state which no speech can explain, which is said to surpass both sense and understanding in the Holy Scriptures. To all these, as if it were a seal, he attaches these final words: "Who is wise, and will keep these things, and shall understand the mercies of the Lord?" For since the activity of wisdom is twofold, the one being inquisitive and searching for what is useful, and the other protective of what has been found; the one task of wisdom, the inquisitive one, he wishes should cease at that time. For to what end shall we use investigation when the object of our search is present? Only one task B remains, so he commands, that the good which has been acquired may be guarded, with wisdom helping us towards this very thing. But what is this wisdom, and what is the guardianship of good things? It is to not be senseless regarding the divine philanthropy. For he who understands what he has attained would not cast away the good of which he has been judged worthy. But he who is senseless regarding grace will suffer the same fate as the blind, who, having taken a pearl or an emerald or some other precious stone in their hands, cast it away as if it were some common C pebble, being involuntarily deprived of the possession through ignorance of the beauty that is in such a thing.
CAPUT IX.
These, therefore, are the fivefold divisions of the Psalms, which, as if they were certain steps rising above one another, we have distinguished according to a certain sequence of order from the signs mentioned previously, because the final word of each section has a certain station of discourse D and a basis of thought, circumscribing within itself the end of what has preceded, by means of that doxological and grateful word which says: "Blessed be the Lord for ever; let it be, let it be." For the meaning of these words is a certain thanksgiving which remains forever; since the Word, not content with having said "Let it be" once and having finished the praise, doubles the word, and by the iteration of the same word insinuates and confirms the perpetuity of the thanksgiving. Furthermore, in each part of these divisions, the Word has perceived a certain proper good, through which blessedness comes to us from God, according to a certain order which is observed in each of those goods, always directing the soul to higher things, until it arrives at the supreme good of all. This, however, which will be common to everyone, is nothing other than the celebration of divine praise, which will be completed in all the saints, just as the final psalm contains, saying: "Praise God in his saints," where also "the firmament of his power" signifies an immutable constancy in the good: the principalities
A show forth. When the human power at last advances, according to the greatness of His magnitude, to perform praise, uttering no longer small things, but already surpassing the trumpets in loudness—for it says, "Praise the Lord with the sound of the trumpet"—it also imitates the harmony of the whole, by the manifold and multiform variety of the virtues, having become an instrument in the rhythm of melody to God. And the Word calls this, by a certain figurative sense, a "psaltery and harp." After its modulation, putting aside everything that is earthly, mute, and devoid of voice, it joins the sound of its own strings with the heavenly choirs in the magnificent singing of the drums. The strings stretched on the instrument would be nothing other than that firmness implanted in each virtue, by which it is unable to be bent or swayed toward wickedness. By these, the beautiful union of the cymbal mixed with the strings is brought about, when the sound of the cymbals stirs the readiness for the divine choir. This seems to me to interpret the connection of our nature with the angels, in that it says, "Praise the Lord with well-sounding cymbals." For such a union—I mean of the angelic to the human—when human nature has been restored to its (original) ancient lot, will produce that sweet sound through the mutual encounter of thanksgiving; and through one another, and with one another, it will keep singing the thanksgiving for the loving-kindness rendered to God. B For the union of cymbal to cymbal indicates this. One cymbal is the supramundane nature of the angels; the other cymbal is the rational creation of men. But sin separated this from that; when, therefore, the loving-kindness of God shall again join both to one another, then both, having become together, will sound that praise, as the great Apostle says: "That every tongue shall confess, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth, that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." Which having happened, the sound of these cymbals will shout a song of victory, becoming through the common concord at the annihilation of the Enemy. And he being utterly destroyed and brought to nothing, praise and hymn will be unceasingly rendered to God from every spirit, with equal zeal and effort, for all eternity. For since "praise is not beautiful in the mouth of a sinner," and there will be no sinner then, all sin being removed, it is entirely fitting that every spirit who is in that age should praise the Lord. C Such, then, is the way to blessedness demonstrated to us by this sublime philosophy in the Psalms
A which ever leads those who strive to attain the summit of perfection by its guidance toward greater and higher pursuits of virtue, that man may reach that state and measure of blessedness beyond which our thought may not advance, not even by way of conjecture or surmise; for beyond this, the mind can find nothing further, either by reasoning or by inferring one thing from another. But even the motion of our hope, which in every way anticipates and runs ahead of the course of our desire, falls idle once it encounters things that cannot be expressed by any likeness; for that which is above this is better than all hope—a fact which the philosophy of the Psalms, through the order we have already examined, confirms. In the first of its discourses, it opens to us, as if it were a door or an entrance to the blessed life, the withdrawal from evil. B For the first words of the Psalter teach this, stating that the beginning of blessedness is the alienation from evil. Next, by offering guidance out of the Law to those who are wandering, and by promising through such a life a resemblance to the ever-flourishing tree, and by pointing out the miseries of those who turn to the opposite way, it leads through successive ascents to the highest point of blessedness the one who follows this guidance. The meaning of the final Psalm indicates this to you, in which, after the complete destruction of wickedness, all that exists will be holy, and all will harmonize in praise of God, as it possesses equally in the firmament of virtue both an immutability toward evil and, by its greatness, C joins our sound like a majestic trumpet; when all creation, both the things above and all those below, shall be brought together into one chorus, and the intellectual nature, which is now divided by sin, shall produce that sweet sound resulting from mutual symphony like a cymbal; when our nature shall agree with the angelic nature, and the divine host, having been recalled from this confusion, shall chant openly and in the sight of the enemies the song of victory to the victorious Lord. Then the praise of every spirit will extend the grace for all time, and by increasing, will enlarge the blessedness into the eternal—that blessedness, I say, which is truly blessedness, concerning which, if one wishes to attain it by conjecture, reason falters, and the very faculty of hoping that is in us falters as well. But there succeeds that ineffable and incomprehensible state, better than every thought, D which "no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man." For thus did the divine Apostle define the good things reserved in that most holy state.
BOOK TWO. TRACTATUS SECUNDUS. CAPUT PRIMUM.
A Having explained these matters in this way, it seems the time demands that we also institute a discourse concerning the inscriptions, which contribute no small momentum toward virtue, as one may gather from the meaning underlying these inscriptions. It would, however, be necessary first to enter upon a certain systematic method for the inscriptions themselves, before we embark upon the consideration of the Psalms themselves, so that it may be as clear as possible to us that the end of this divinely inspired teaching is none other than to lead the soul toward true blessedness.
Therefore, some of the Psalms lack an inscription altogether; others, indeed, have the Prophet’s inscription among us, but do not have it among the Hebrews. For others, the inscription consists solely of the name “David.” For others, something else is written alongside the name, either “a praise,” or “a song,” or “a thanksgiving,” or “a psalm,” or “of understanding,” or “a prayer,” or “of the going out of the tabernacle,” or “of dedication,” or “of ecstasy,” or “for a memorial,” or “for confession,” or “to the servant of the Lord,” or “to Idithum,” or “to Eman the Israelite.”
In others, the inscription is formed by a certain mutual connection and conjugation of names and words of this kind: for instance, either “a song of a psalm,” or “a psalm of a song,” or “a song,” or “a psalm,” or “in hymns a psalm,” or “in hymns of understanding,” or “a prayer of David,” or “a prayer of the poor,” or “a praise of a song,” or something similar joined to the name of David takes the place of an inscription. C Again, in others, some other things are also inscribed along with these, pre-eminently that which is “unto the end.” And there are various and different things written with this expression, for it adds: “concerning those who shall be changed,” or “concerning the hidden things,” or “concerning the inheriting one,” or “concerning the eighth,” or “concerning the winepresses,” or “concerning the morning help,” or “concerning Maheleth,” or “concerning the people who have been removed far from the sanctuary,” or “do not destroy,” or “for an inscription on a pillar,” or both of these together; or “for Solomon,” or “a song concerning the beloved,” or “concerning the hidden things of the son,” or “for confession.” D Or some circumstance from history and events is added. For example, that which says, “when he was in the cave,” or “when in the wilderness,” or “when Saul sent to kill him,” or “concerning the words of Chusi,” or “when he changed his countenance before Abimelech,”
A or “when the Ziphites came,” or “when Doeg the Edomite came and told Saul,” or “in the days when the Lord delivered him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul,” or “when Joab returned and struck the valley of salt, twelve thousand,” or “when Nathan the prophet came to him when he went in to Bathsheba.” And some of the psalms have as an inscription the Hebrew “Alleluia,” either inscribed once or twice; and on others, the names of certain prophets are written together with that inscription. For example, “Alleluia of Haggai and Zechariah,” and “Alleluia of Jeremiah and Ezekiel.” And again, there is another kind of inscription, such as “To the sons of Korah,” or “To Idithum,” or “To Asaph”; but to one uniquely, by special excellence, it is inscribed: “A prayer of Moses, the man of God.” B Regarding those which, according to the ecclesiastical tradition, have inscriptions, but among the Hebrews are without inscriptions, we find this distinction: for in some, a certain number of the days of the week is denoted, such as “the first of the Sabbath,” or “the fourth of the Sabbath,” or “unto the day of the Sabbath,” or “before the Sabbath.” Others have some other rationale for their inscriptions, which is kept entirely silent among the Hebrews.
CHAPTER II
C Since this classification of the inscriptions has been clarified for us, it would be useful first to provide a more general interpretation of those that have similarities, and then, as the order requires, to turn the discussion to those that appear to be more diverse. Generally speaking, therefore, the rationale of the inscription has a twofold purpose: for it is either written in advance for the indication of the subject matter, so that having been instructed beforehand in the purpose of the psalmody, we might become more teachable regarding the meaning contained in the verses; D or often the inscription itself instructs the hearer, by indicating through the sentiment subject to the words something achieved remarkably through virtue. Or rather, the purpose of both modes and forms of inscriptions is one and the same: namely, that they might direct and lead us toward what is good and virtuous; and something sought from history seems to be indicated even when only a bare name has been inscribed. For divine Scripture does not use these historical narrations solely that we might gain knowledge of past events and learn what the ancients did or endured, but that it might deliver to us a discipline for ordering our lives according to the rule of virtue, and thus the mention of history may be referred to a certain higher consideration. Since, therefore, it is agreed by the consensus of all that such an estimation of Scripture must be held, it follows that, as we have said before, for those which are similar, a more general...
explanation ought to be provided, whereas for those that differ from one another in some respect, a more specific and particular examination should be undertaken.
B Since, therefore, the expression "In the end" is inscribed upon most of the psalms, I believe that we should understand about it that which the understanding of others who have interpreted the same Scripture clarifies. For one person, instead of "In the end," says "To the Victor"; another says "Epinikion" (Song of Victory); another, "Unto victory." Since then, the end of every contest is victory, toward which those who strip for competition look when they engage in the struggle, it seems to me that through this term "the end," the Discourse, in a brief expression, rouses to zeal those who contend in the stadium of this life through the virtues, that by looking toward the "end"—which is victory—they might lighten the toil in their struggles through the hope of the crowns. C This is something we see happening now in competitions as well. For the crown, displayed in advance to those about to grapple and join hands in the wrestling arenas, adds much strength and sharpens their diligence to obtain the victory, as the hardships to be endured in that conflict are greatly diminished by the expected glory. Since, then, the stadium is open to all for competition (and the stadium is the common life of men), in which there is one adversary, vice, which in many ways overthrows those who attempt to wrestle with it by its deceitful wrestling tricks, for this reason, the good Instructor of souls shows you beforehand the end of the sweat and labor, and the ornament from the crowns, and the public proclamation of the victory; so that by looking toward that "end," you may lean upon the Victor and prepare for yourself the hymn of victory. Whatever other meanings and lessons follow from these for the discipline of virtue would surely be manifest to those who look toward the consequences from this beginning. D For it is clear that there are as many causes and handles for our enemies to fight against us, indeed, to overcome us, as there are disturbances of the soul, by which the reason of our soul is often dislocated like a limb, moved from its place, and frequently even cast out from its proper state, unless one, already trained through exercise and a legitimate method of fighting—as the Apostle says—has prepared for himself a safe way, free from stumbling in such contests, having attained the praise of victory, which is the end of every struggle.
Furthermore, the things that are inscribed alongside the expression "In the end" are certain instructions and counsels for victory, by which our effort and zeal might prosper. For both that which says, "For those who shall be changed," and that which says, "For Maeleth," which others render as "For the dance," and that which says, "To look upon the arcana," and "For the beloved..."