Baldwin of Canterbury, Tractatus diversi, Tractate 10: On the seal upon the heart

God, loving us and desiring to be loved, formed a seal, having the image of love engraved [upon it], with which He sealed our heart the more firmly, so that it might receive into itself a likeness conformed to the image, and express it after that same configuration. Understand "seal" both as that which seals and as that which is sealed. For as to that which seals, the Apostle says to the Romans: Abraham received the sign of circumcision, a seal of the righteousness of the faith which he had while uncircumcised (Rom. 4). But of that which is sealed, the same [Apostle] says to the Corinthians: You are the seal of my apostleship in the Lord (1 Cor. 9). And to the angel resplendent with the beauty of the divine likeness it is said through the prophet: You were the seal of likeness, full of wisdom and perfect in beauty; you were in the delights of the paradise of God (Ezek. 28). But Christ both seals and is sealed. For Him the Father — Who is God — sealed. Him the Father sanctified, and sent into the world. Him the Father set apart from the rest by a singular grace. For it was fitting that such a one should be for us a high priest: holy, undefiled, unstained, set apart from sinners, and made higher than the heavens (Heb. 7). Through Him God sealed us too, as it is written: There is sealed upon us the light of Thy countenance, O Lord (Ps. 4). Now He sealed us on the day of our making, when He formed us to His own image and likeness. He sealed us on the day of our redemption, when He reformed us according to His own image. For iniquity and death had divided between God and man. But God hates iniquity, and man [hates] death. Man hates death just so far as he loves life. But what in life is sweeter than life itself, or more lovable? What is more bitter than death, what more hateful? What then is more detestable than iniquity, through which the pleasantness of life must be lost, and the necessity of dying has been laid upon us? What can be loved more than life — and above all immortal life — and its Promiser and Giver, God, the fountain of life and life itself? But righteousness, as it is written, is the acquisition of immortality. Therefore righteousness is to be loved no less than life, through which it is acquired, and without which

immortal life is not kept. Now man was from the beginning in a certain way immortal, so that by righteousness preserved he could not die — in this respect like God, though [only] in part; but now he is like the unreasoning beasts as to the condition of dying, yet inferior [to them] by the bond of sin and the peril of perishing, now as much more abject than they as he was once more worthy. Iniquity therefore is equally hateful as death, and more so than that death. For it is more expedient to die than to sin. Sin is the sting of death, and a goad wounding unto destruction. The wages of sin is death, and the reward of iniquity is ruin. Sin is an injury to God, a provoking of His jealousy; the sentence of death is God's judgement unto the condemnation of sin. But the sinful man is justly condemned to death, and, having experienced God's wrath in many miseries, could scarcely hope even faintly for God's love. For his own thought could suggest to him to say: How should I believe myself loved by God, Who so afflicts me? What good can I hope from Him, Who has poured out His indignation upon me, and has not even spared me from death? If He loved me, He would not so press me with His judgement; He would not withhold mercy in His anger, but would remit the indignation I have deserved, grant pardon, and absolve me from the decree of death. For God seemed to hate man, when He brought wrath upon him, when He pronounced the sentence of death upon him. He seemed to have loved him, when, for the abolishing of sin and of death, He suffered death. Death therefore stood as a sign both of hatred and of love — but of hatred against the fault which man committed, of love towards the nature which God created. Through the death inflicted on man, God poured out His wrath and indignation upon all nations, as it is written: I have trodden them in my fury, and trampled them in my anger (Isa. 63). Through the death undergone for man, God poured out His mercy and love upon all nations, as it is written: Our God is the God of salvation, and the issues from death belong to the Lord, the Lord (Ps. 67). Therefore death is both wrath and mercy; judgement and benefit, condemnation and absolution,

indignation and reconciliation. Now God so dispensed and so tempered the remedy of our restoration, that He turned the fury of His indignation into a sacrament of redemption, and a help of deliverance. Whence also He says: My arm has saved for me; and my very indignation has been my help (Isa. 63). Therefore, that every mouth may be stopped, and all the world be made subject to God, let not every man now say: God does not love me, Who does not spare me from death; but let him rather say, and be astonished: O how greatly does God love me, Who, that He might spare me, did not spare Himself from death! Let us then compare death with love; and it will appear that love is strong as death. Who could doubt the strength of death? What force, what power, what dignity, what nobility, what wisdom, what prudence, what art, what deceit, can withstand it?

It exacts payment from all its debtors, demands tribute from all, entangles all, spares no one, reigns everywhere on earth, makes all equal, commands all, and, itself unconquerable, conquers the conquerors of cities. Witnesses of this are all who have slept in the dust of the earth, and the very tombs of the dead are testimonies of this truth. The most powerful too, and kings and princes, who spread their terror in the land of the living, have themselves experienced what death can do. All the wise of the world, who studied the stars of heaven, who reckoned months and days, have been overtaken by the sudden stroke of death, and caught in their own cleverness. In this its strength appears twofold: that it could seize or capture all, and could also hold all fast, and there was none who could rescue them from its hand. But the love with which God loved us, by its own power loosed the bonds by which death held its captives bound, so that it can hold only for a time those whom it is permitted for a time to seize. For Christ rose again, the first-fruits of them that sleep, confirming for us the assurance of rising again by the sacrament, and the example, and the testimony of His own resurrection, and by the word of His promise.

Strong is death, which is able to strip us of the gift of life. Strong is love, which is able to restore us to the enjoyment of a better life. Strong is death, which is powerful to despoil us of the cast-off garments of this body. Strong is love, which is powerful to snatch away death's spoils and give them back to us. Strong is death, which no man is able to resist. Strong is love, so that it is able to triumph over it, to blunt its sting, to quell its contention, to confound its victory. For there will be a time when it will be mocked, when it will be said: Where, O death, is your sting? Where, O death, is your contention? (1 Cor. 15) Love is strong as death, because the love of Christ is the death of death. Wherefore He says: I will be your death, O death; I will be your bite, O hell (Hos. 13). The love also with which Christ is loved by us is itself also strong as death, since it is itself as it were a kind of death, being the extinction of the old life, and the abolition of vices, and the laying aside of dead works. And this our love towards Christ is a kind of return [of love], although unequal to His love towards us, and

a likeness conformed to His image. For He first loved us, and through the example of love which He set before us He has become for us a seal, by which we may be made conformable to His image, laying aside the image of the earthly, and bearing the image of the heavenly: as we have been loved, so also loving Him. For in this He leaves us an example, that we should follow His footsteps (1 Pet. 2). Wherefore He says: Set me as a seal upon your heart (Song 8). As if He said: Love me, as I love you. Have me in your mind, in your memory, in your desire, in your sighing, in your groaning and sobbing. Remember, O man, what kind of being I made you, how far I preferred you to the other creatures; with what dignity I ennobled you, how I crowned you with glory and honour, how I made you a little less than the angels, how I put all things under your feet (Ps. 8). Remember not only how great things I have done for you, but how hard, how unworthy things I have endured for you; and see whether you do not act unjustly against me, if you do not love me. For who loves you as I do? Who created you, but I? Who redeemed you, but I? Who, as defender of your life, underwent the peril of the duel, but I? That you may therefore repay me the return of love, put forth your arms, exert your strength; set me as a seal upon your arm. Fight for me, as I [fought] for you. Do not flatter me with feigned adulation, so as to say: Lord, I love Thee. If you love, show that you love. Love not in word and tongue, but in deed and truth. I have overcome the world, fighting for you; but still the world and the prince of the world oppose you, and the flesh opposes you, so that with these you may fight for me, but rather for yourself. For it is your peril that is at stake; the fight is about your soul, about your salvation; nor can you be overcome except from yourself, nor conquer except from me. Therefore trust not in yourself, but in me. For not by your sword will you prevail over the enemy, and your arm will not save you; but my right hand, and my arm, and the light of my countenance. If you set me as a seal upon your arm, victory will fall to you. So fight, not as one beating the air; chastise your body, and bring it into subjection (1 Cor. 9); abstain from all things, as one who strives in the contest. If this seems hard to you, what charge can you bring against me? I too have kept hard ways. If you will emulate me, know that emulation is hard as hell. You must drink the cup which I drank. I thirsted, and I drank; I tasted death, I went down to the lower regions; but, the sorrows of hell being loosed, I rose again. If you, wishing to imitate me through zeal of emulation, feel yourself weighed down and as it were tormented in hell, this is what I demand of you, this is what I warn, this is what I counsel: that you be tormented for a little while, as if in hell, lest you be tormented without end in hell. For emulation is as it were a hell, like a place of punishment; but this is the way which leads to the entrance of the kingdom. For it behoves us to suffer these things, and so to enter into life.

Hence also the martyrs, true emulators of me, are now sharers of the kingdom; but first, their bodies and their bones cast down upon the earth by death, and first afflicted with the reproach of that death, saying: Our bones are scattered

our bones are scattered near hell (Ps. 140). See how they loved me, who were willing to follow me even to the brink of hell, and were unwilling to be swallowed up by hell. If you suffer adversity, and on this account are reckoned, in the estimation of others, a sinner and one near to hell, you have this, that you can say with me: My soul is filled with evils, and my life has drawn near to hell. I am counted with them that go down into the pit (Ps. 87). Set me as a seal upon your heart, that you may love me with your whole strength; set me upon your arm, that you may carry out with entire devotion the things that are pleasing to me. Set me upon your heart, through the affection of love; set me upon your arm, through the effect of action. Have me as your example and help for loving purely and sincerely; as your example and help for working well, and for suffering bravely. Set me upon your heart, above all that you think, all that you love, all that is dear to your heart; so that you may put after me whatever is dear, and always set me above, and always love me more — not only more than what is outside you, but even more than whatever is within you. And finally, more than yourself, so that you may love yourself for my sake, not only love me for your own sake. Let the love of yourself, [ranked] according to me, be at the summit of your heart; let the love of me be above the summit of your heart. But since the proof of love is the showing of it in deed, set me upon your arm. Fight in such a way, exert yourself in such a way by working for me, that you may work out of me. Let me be your hope, let me be your confidence, let me be your strength, let me be your patience. Say to me: Lord, my hope from my youth (Ps. 70). Say to me: I will love Thee, O Lord, my strength (Ps. 17). Say to me: For Thou art my patience (Ps. 70). Say to me: My God, my mercy (Ps. 58). Do not set flesh as your arm, but say to me: Be our arm in the morning, and our salvation in the time of tribulation (Isa. 33). I require love from your heart, in the things that are within; and zeal, in the things that are without. But that you may know whether the love is true, attend to the strength of the soul; for a love that is not strong as death is not a true love. Attend first to my love for you, and my death for you. When I laid down my soul for you, it was not through the malice or power of persecutors, nor did the violence of death wrest my soul from me against my will; but love itself compelled me, itself constrained me, itself did me violence. What death could do in others, love did in me — love, to which death was obedient. See too in others what death can do, what love can do, that you may know that love is strong as death. Death divides the dearest names, and the most closely joined bonds — love too divides. For whoever shall have left house, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive a hundredfold, and shall possess eternal life (Matt. 19). Death divides soul and flesh — love too divides. For whoever does not hate his own soul cannot be my disciple (Luke 14). But in the things that are without, zeal does not show itself true if it is not hard. For one who does not remain with me in temptation can feign it in prosperity. Therefore the strength of soul in the division of the

affections is a sign of the love that is within. But the hardness of tribulation is a sign of the zeal that is without. These are the signs stamped by the seal.

O Lord, Who sayest: Set me as a seal upon your heart; do what Thou commandest. For whence is it to me, that I should set Thee upon my heart? How can I do this? And yet, unless I could do this in some way — yet so, as it were through Thee — Thou wouldst not say to me: Set me. O Thy condescension, O Lord! O my dignity and freedom, O Lord! For Thou dost not disdain to be set by Thy servant upon the heart of Thy servant! And Thou hast reckoned me so worthy, and hast given me free choice, by which I might reject whatever displeases Thee, and choose the good which pleases Thee, and through the choice of the good please Thee or cleave [to Thee], share in Thee, have Thee in me, [and] love Thee above myself, as Thou art worthy! Take away from me, O Lord, the heart of stone, take away the curdled heart, take away the uncircumcised heart; give me a new heart, a heart of flesh, a clean heart! Thou cleanser of the heart and lover of the clean heart, possess my heart and dwell in it, containing and filling it, higher than my highest and more inward than my inmost! Thou form of beauty and seal of holiness, seal my heart in Thine image; seal my heart under Thy mercy, God of my heart, and God my portion, for ever (Ps. 72). Amen.

Man, departing from God through the fault of disobedience, has paid the most just penalty of his guilt. For, falling away from the unchangeable God, he falls away also in himself, and through his own degrees of failing he grows old continually and ages, until at last he is dissolved by death. For what decays and ages is near to perishing. Man, withdrawing from God, Who is always one and the same, is divided by the wrath of His countenance; and divided within himself, so that he is not always one and the same with himself, but always now one thing, now another, and that is fulfilled which is written: A fool is changed as the moon (Sir. 27). For he so disagrees with himself and stands apart from himself, so dissents and is at discord, that scarcely could one man be found more contrary to another than one man is to himself. For he wills and does not will; the same man by turns hates and loves, takes up and takes back, approves and condemns, seeks and casts away, cares and neglects. Often, after a business is begun, he is weary of what he began; after a deed is done, he repents of what he did; his vows and desires, his pursuits and counsels, his thoughts and affections and intentions, as one always displeasing to himself, he changes in manifold ways, and in all these he himself is changed. Truly, a double-minded man is inconstant in all his ways (Jas. 1). What peace is there for wretched man in so great a succession of changes, in such fickleness of an inconstant mind? There is no peace for the wicked, says the Lord (Isa. 57). The perverse mind, contrary to God and to itself, is itself its own torturer and torment; it always exacts penalties from itself, and always pays them; and he who opposes God by the guilt of sin is, as it were, God's minister in exacting the penalty. See how the wicked are divided by the wrath of God's countenance, who are so far opposed even to themselves that they persecute themselves: as much as they are contrary to God, so much are they contrary to themselves also, as men who find no peace in their own will because they stumble against the will of God.

Yet are the wicked alone divided? The mind of the just man, which is occupied in the stewardship of temporal things, and distracted by a multitude of cares, and therefore less intent upon God, is it not also divided? Is it not said to Martha: Martha, Martha, you are anxious, and are troubled about very many things? (Luke 10.) What does this doubling mean? Was it not enough to say once, Martha, without its being said by repetition, Martha, Martha? Or does this repetition signify division? Martha, He says once, and again Martha. Martha is certainly divided, Martha anxious, Martha troubled: troubled by forethought for the time to come, troubled by care for the present need. You are anxious, and are troubled about very many things. Very many things indeed trouble her, for the needs of wretched man are very many. For need always clings to wretchedness, and he who is wretched is always in want. And the needs of man are so many and various, so inextricable and entangled, that in the whole of a man's life they can by no means be cleared away. The unwearied change of things and of times always brings some new need, and gives birth to new anxiety; and while one need departs, another succeeds. For one need draws another to itself; and while the following one thrusts out the one before it, it thrusts itself into another that follows; and while one is met and relieved, another soon springs up. As one who takes a loan from one man and pays another binds himself by the very act by which he frees himself, so in the whole of a man's life, while one knot of need is loosed, another is tied; and wretched man, who is always striving to loose himself, is always ingeniously contriving to bind himself. For the ways of man are strewn with thorns. In this manner need is always fled, and always met; and to avoid need abundance is always sought, and want is found. For of the rich themselves, who glory in the multitude of their riches, what else is to be thought but what Scripture says: The rich have wanted and have hungered? (Ps. 33.)

For those who have much are always in need of much; and where there are many riches, there are many who eat them;

and often those who extort from the unwilling suffer the like against their will; and often the unwilling give what they take from the unwilling. But those who have riches and do not distribute them, because they want them always kept so that they may not be in want, are the more in want; for they are equally in want both of what they have and of what they have not. For their disease is always increased by its own remedy, and their need is past remedy whose greed is past filling. These needs, which wretched and pitiable men suffer, are made by the love of things not necessary; they seek consolation in many unnecessary things and do not find it. But one thing is necessary (Luke 10). Truly one thing is necessary, without which nothing is necessary: the one highest and common good. This one thing can suffice for all, and without it all things cannot suffice for one. For this one thing Peter left all things, that in one he might have all things, lest, lacking the one, he should have neither the one nor all things. One thing, he says, I have asked of the Lord, this will I seek after (Ps. 26).

He who seeks after this one thing shall not be lessened in any good. He who has not this one thing lacks himself, and, poor in mind, neither possesses his own reason nor has his own heart in his power. But he who is poor in mind, what does he have, since he does not have himself? And if he who does not have God, since he does not have himself, by true reckoning has nothing but sins, it comes about by a wonderful judgement of God that the wicked man, who in his own estimation has much, is truly empty there where he seems to himself full; and whence he hopes for abundance, thence he suffers want. The Scripture cannot be broken which speaks of God, saying: The hungry He has filled with good things, and the rich He has sent away empty (Luke 1). And elsewhere Scripture says of the rich: They have slept their sleep, and all the men of riches have found nothing in their hands (Ps. 75). If the rich sleep their sleep, and dream that they have much in their hands, while having nothing of riches; if they are mocked by a vain opinion, so as to think themselves good when they are wretched, are they of sound mind?