Baldwin of Canterbury, Tractatus diversi, Tractate 6: On 'The word of God is living'

SIXTH TREATISE. On the words of the Apostle: The word of God is living and effectual, and more piercing than any two-edged sword, etc. (Heb. 4)

How great is the power, and how great the wisdom in the word of God, is shown by these words of the Apostle to those who seek Christ, Who is the word, and the power, and the wisdom of God. This word, in the beginning with the Father [and] coeternal with Him, was in its own time revealed to the apostles, and through them announced, and humbly received in the faith of the believing peoples. There is therefore a word in the Father, a word in the mouth, a word in the heart. The word in the mouth is a sign of the word which is in the Father; a sign also of the word which is in the heart of man. The word in the heart of man is either the understanding of the word, or the faith of the word, or the love of the word, when the word is understood, or believed, or loved. When these three come together in one heart, so that the word of God is at once understood, believed and loved, Christ, Who is the Word of the Father, of Whom the Father Himself also says: My heart has uttered a good word (Ps. 44), dwells in him through faith; and by a wonderful condescension God in the heart of the Father descends even to the heart of man, that in a new manner He may there be conceived and formed, as the Apostle speaks to the Galatians, saying: My little children, of whom I am in labour again, until Christ be formed in you (Gal. 4). When Christ is preached, the word of God is heard, that is, understood; and so it is believed, because faith is from hearing; and so it is loved. For there is no love of the word without faith of the word; nor faith of the word without hearing of the word. For he who loves, believes; and he who believes, hears the words — the Spirit revealing them within, Who breathes where He will, and, as it is written: You hear His voice (John 3) — whether from outside by a man preaching, or by the spirit nonetheless speaking within. For unless there be one who teaches within, the tongue of the speaker labours in vain. Understanding ought to be regarded in two ways: either about the beginning of faith, or

about the end. For when the word is preached, it is not believed unless it is in some manner understood. And this understanding the Spirit inspires, and it is called hearing, of which the Apostle [says]: Faith is from hearing (Rom. 20). That hearing is to be taken for understanding the same Apostle shows, where he says: He who speaks in tongues speaks not to men but to God (1 Cor. 14); for no one hears, that is, no one understands. For he who speaks in a foreign tongue to those who do not understand it is as a barbarian to them; and he does not edify those who do not understand. Therefore understanding is necessary at the beginning of faith, that it may be understood what is announced as to be believed. There is another understanding about the end of faith, that is, its consummation, of which it is said: Unless you believe, you will not understand (Isa. 7). And although this seems to pertain to future knowledge, it can nevertheless soundly be understood also of the progress of faith in those who have their senses exercised for knowing more fully the reason of faith, ready always to give satisfaction to everyone who asks a reason concerning that faith and hope which is in us (1 Pet. 3). This word of God, of which our discourse is, is living; to Whom the Father has given to have life in Himself, as He Himself has life in Himself (John 5). Wherefore He is not only living, but also life, as He Himself says of Himself: I am the way, the truth and the life (John 14). And since He is life, He is so living as to be life-giving. For as the Father raises the dead and gives life, so also the Son gives life to whom He will (John 5). He is life-giving when He calls the dead man from the tomb and says: Lazarus, come forth (John 1). When this word is preached, by the voice of preaching, to its own voice which is heard outside, it gives a voice of power which is perceived within, through which the dead come to life again, and from these stones are raised up sons

of Abraham. This word, therefore, is living in the heart of the Father, living in the mouth of the one preaching, living in the heart of the one believing and loving. Since this word is so living, there is no doubt that it is also effectual. For it is an almighty word. When He said: Let there be light (Gen. 1), at once light was made. When He said: Let there be lights (ibid.), at once the lights were made. There is no delay but that whatever He has said should be done is done. For this word runs swiftly, and in its swiftness there suddenly stood forth the heights of the heavens, the wastes of the lands, the depths of the waves. For with this word no word is impossible. It is effectual in the creation of things, effectual in the governance of the world, effectual in the redemption of the world. For what is more effectual, what more powerful? Who shall speak His powers, shall make all His praises heard? (Ps. 105) It is effectual when it works; it is effectual when it is preached. For it does not return empty, but prospers in all things to which it is sent (Isa. 55). It is effectual, and more piercing than any two-edged sword (Heb. 4), when it is believed and loved. For what is impossible to one who believes, or what is difficult to one who loves? When this word speaks, its words pierce the heart like the sharp arrows of the mighty one (Ps. 119); like nails driven deep they enter, and they enter so far as to penetrate to the innermost parts. For this word is more piercing than any two-edged sword, inasmuch as it is stronger for cutting than every might or power, and subtler than every keenness of human wit; and sharper than the subtlety of all human wisdom and of learned speech. For a two-edged sword is the might of power; a two-edged sword also is the keenness of reason, or the subtlety of speech. But if it be asked concerning might or power, the reason is plain.

For there are two powers by which this world is ruled: the royal power and the priestly authority. Of them it is said: Behold, here are two swords (Luke 20). Now the king bears the sword. What this sword can do at most the Lord showed, saying: Fear not those who kill the body, but cannot kill the soul (Matt. 10). And again: Be not terrified by those who kill the body, and after this have no more that they can do (Luke 12). This sword is two-edged, cutting on either side. For it cuts and kills the body, while it cuts the soul by the force of pain, yet does not kill it. For it divides it with pain from the body, but from the life that is hidden in God it does not divide it. It looses the joining of body and soul, but the joining of God and the soul it does not loose. Who shall separate us, says Paul, from the charity of Christ? Tribulation, or distress, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or persecution, or the sword? (Rom. 8) As if he said: No, not even the sword. This sword can do much, but not this. More piercing than it, therefore, is the word that has power, namely [the word] in the power granted to the Church; it can destroy heart and soul in the gehenna of fire (Matt. 10). For the rulers of the Church hold the sword in the power of the word of God. Is it not written: Two-edged swords in their hands? (Ps. 149) Is it not written:

A sword is in their lips; for who has heard? (Ps. 58) And if it was said of the wicked: Their tongue a sharp sword (Ps. 54); how much more is the tongue of Peter a sword, and a sword twice sharp? Moreover, the edge of human wit and of human sense, and the subtlety of speech, like a two-edged sword of the most subtle body, divides by discernment between true and false, between good and evil, honourable and dishonourable, and the other contraries that lie open to ingenious and skilful inquiry.

From here all worldly philosophy and human wisdom has flowed; which, not knowing the measure of its own capacity, dared to attempt things above itself, which, left to itself, it could in no way reach. For exercising itself about arduous and deep inquiries concerning the nature of God, the origin of the world, the state of the soul, the quality of justice and of beatitude, it did not find the way of truth, and was not able to arrive at the wisdom of God hidden in a mystery. On which account the wisdom of God says: I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the prudence of the prudent I will reject (1 Cor. 1). And again: I will catch the wise in their own craftiness (1 Cor. 3). And the Prophet: The wicked have told me fables; but not as Thy law, O Lord (Ps. 118). For whatever things have been worked out by the wise of this world with most subtle searching, so far as they disagree with the word of God, so far they depart from the truth; and like fabulous tales they hold nothing in themselves but falsehood or vanity. But the word of God is truth, and like a two-edged sword, nay more piercing than any two-edged sword (Heb. 4), with a discernment as most subtle as it is most true it searches all things, even the deep things of God. Whether then we consider the two-edged sword in power or in wisdom, it is plain that the word of God, which can do all things and searches all things, is more piercing; since it is the power of God and the wisdom of God. This word, while it works wonderfully all things in all, works more wonderfully in the hearts of the saints through the effect of its grace, that is, through fear and love and the other holy virtues, as though through certain inward words, and shows its power and its wisdom, penetrating all inward things, and reaching even to the dividing of soul and spirit.

That this may shine forth more clearly, it must be noted that soul and spirit are spoken of in three ways: namely according to nature, and according to fault, and according to grace. They are spoken of according to nature where they ought to be understood according to what they naturally are, or according to what they have naturally or from the origin of their creation. When it is said: The first man Adam was made into a living soul (1 Cor. 15). Or when it is said (Athanasian Creed): 'The rational soul and flesh is one man,' here soul is taken according to nature. When it is said: What man knows the things of a man, but the spirit of the man that is in him? (1 Cor. 2) here spirit is understood according to the nature of its essence. When it is said:

“He who hates his soul in this world keeps it unto life eternal” (John 12:25): here the soul is understood not only according to nature but also according to fault. When it is said, “He remembered that they are flesh, a spirit going and not returning” (Ps. 77:39), here the spirit is understood according to fault. When it is said, “He who loves iniquity hates his soul” (Ps. 10:6), it is to be understood not of the hatred of fault, but of nature, or of grace. But when it is said, “The Lord keeps you from all evil; may the Lord keep your soul” (Ps. 120:7), here the soul is understood according to nature and grace. When it is said, “If by the spirit you mortify the deeds of the flesh, you shall live” (Rom. 8:13), here it is understood according to grace. And although soul and spirit are the same in the nature of their essence, yet sometimes they are distinguished as though they were different things, as in the Apostle, who says: “And may God Himself sanctify you in all things, that your whole spirit and soul and body may be preserved without blame at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Thess. 5:23). And in the present place: “Reaching even to the dividing of soul and spirit” (Heb. 4:12). Here, then, since soul and spirit are joined together as things divided, the very joining seems to call for some distinction. And, as far as it seems to me, the spirit belongs to the worthier and better part, namely according to the life by which one lives to God. The soul indeed, since it too is itself a spirit, when it lives well, lives to God, according to the Prophet, who says: “My soul shall live to Him” (Ps. 21:31); and this is the life of grace. When it lives ill, it lives to itself, because it serves the fulfilling of its own will; and this is the life of fault. There is besides also the life of nature, which the soul furnishes to the body according to the offices of the members, affording it motion and sense. The life according to nature is common to the good and the wicked; the life according to fault belongs only to the wicked; the life according to grace, by which one cleaves to God, befits none but the good. Now according to this life, by which one cleaves to God, “spirit” is not unfittingly taken in this place, since it is written: “He who cleaves to God is one spirit” (1 Cor. 6:17). “Soul” in the present place is not unsuitably taken either for the temporal life, according to which one lives naturally, by the good as well as by the wicked; or for the culpable and undisciplined life, according to which one lives ill, but by the wicked alone. Therefore two kinds of martyrdom are intimated to us in this place, where the word of God, living and effectual, and more piercing than any two-edged sword, is said to reach even to the dividing of soul and spirit. For now the flesh itself is slain for Christ, now the will of the flesh that lusts against the spirit. When the flesh is slain and killed by the persecutor’s sword, does not the living word of God, through the fear of God and love, reach even to the dividing of soul and spirit? Does not Christ say: “I lay down My soul for My sheep” (John 10:15)? Does He not also say: “Into Thy hands I commend My spirit” (Luke 23:46)? Did not the protomartyr Stephen too, when he was laying down his soul for his friends, say: “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit

” (Acts 7:59)? Does not Paul also say: “Bonds and tribulations await me; but I fear none of these things, nor do I count my soul more precious than myself” (Acts 20:23–24)? “Myself” he said on account of the spirit, which cleaved to God; “soul” on account of the temporal life, which he despised for God. This is the soul of which it is said: “Be not solicitous for your soul, what you shall eat” (Matt. 6:25). And again: “Is not the soul more than the food?” (ibid.). Therefore, when the persecutor’s sword mangles the bodies of the martyrs, and divides and severs them limb from limb, the sword of the spirit, which is the word of God, divides inwardly between soul and spirit; because the fear of God, or love, grows strong within, and for the confession of truth, or the defence of justice, stands immovable even to the contempt of the soul.

The case is similar, though the glory is not equal, in the spiritual contest, when the flesh that lusts against the spirit is resisted and one’s own will is renounced. For whoever lays down the pride of his own will lays down his soul for God. This is the soul of which it is written: “He who does not hate his soul cannot be My disciple” (Luke 14:26). Do you see how the word of God, more piercing than any two-edged sword, reaches even to the dividing of soul and spirit? Now there are certain wills that cleave to the soul thinly and on the surface, which have not driven their roots deeper, which can be shaved off easily and without pain, like the hairs of the flesh by a razor drawn over them. And yet, when a will of this kind is renounced for God’s sake, some reward is paid back for it by God; because a hair of the head shall not perish (cf. Luke 21:18). But others are fixed more deeply and cleave more firmly, and either cannot be cut away at all without bloody pain, or scarcely can. Accordingly, just as this visible sword, which the hand can handle, when it cuts and divides things joined, causes the wound of pain and the pain of the wound; so the sword of the spirit, cutting as it were on both sides, on this side through love, on that through fear, divides as things joined those that are loved together, when it does violence so that what is loved is despised, lest what is loved more be lost. A man loves God; he loves also his own flesh, which no one ever hated (Eph. 5:29). These are loved together by the just man, but not equally: for God is loved more, and the flesh less. Therefore, when the persecutor presses, the life of the flesh is despised, lest the life which is hidden in Christ (cf. Col. 3:3) be lost. Yet when the care of preserving the body is cast away for the love of God, or for fear of Him, it is cut off with grievous pain like a limb that cleaves firmly. So, when one’s own will, which is loved together with God through appetite, though not through consent, is amputated for God’s sake, the spirit divides as it were things joined, and with the force of pain inflicts a wound.

On the dividing of the soul by itself.

In the manner described, this sword reaches even to the dividing of soul and spirit, dividing soul and spirit from each other, the natural life or the

the carnal life, and the spiritual life. This sword reaches also to the dividing of the soul by itself, and likewise to the dividing of the spirit by itself; but there is more to be said about the dividing of the soul. The soul is a certain simple nature, and indivisible according to its essence, united to each body in the unity of the person, alone to one alone, one to one; and therefore it is rightly called the only one of the only one. Yet this soul, when according to God it loves one whom it knows must be loved for God’s sake, unites itself through the affection of charity to him whom it joins to itself in charity; and, divided in itself through the affections of love, it lives not only in the body to which it is personally united, but in a certain manner divides its life and sense outside itself, towards those to whom it joins itself through love. Therefore it feels not only its own goods or ills, but imparts itself to feel those that are another’s, by rejoicing with him or suffering with him. Therefore the sword of the spirit cuts not only through the pain of one’s own suffering, but also through compassion for another’s pain. And it may happen that the pain of the one who suffers with is sharper than that of the one who suffers. For often, in a son’s sickness, the mother who grieves with him is more tormented than the son who grieves. Love does this, which transfers another’s pain into itself; and [gives] itself with an increase of pain, so that it grieves with more than the other grieves, who sometimes desires to grieve alone, lest the other should grieve. In the suffering of grieving with another, the soul of the one who grieves with is in a certain manner divided from itself, and in itself. For when one who is loved suffers, it gives itself up to him, so as to make his pain common to itself, and pours itself out beyond itself; and through the service of compassion it unites itself to him, so as to grieve in his stead; and in a certain manner it brings it about that it belongs to him into whom it has poured itself through the affection of grieving with him, as if living in him whose torment it feels. Hence the aged Simeon, when he had prophesied about Christ and had said, “Behold, this One is set for the fall and the rising again of many in Israel, and for a sign which shall be spoken against” (Luke 2:34), presently, speaking to the Blessed Virgin, added, saying: “And a sword shall pierce your own soul” (ibid. 2:35). That is: the sword shall so pierce your soul as though it were His. It can also be understood thus: “your own soul”, that is, your proper soul, the sword shall pierce. According to which manner of speaking, as certain holy doctors use it, the Apostle says: “With fear and trembling work out your own salvation” (Phil. 2:12), that is, your proper salvation. For the Mother of God, who loved more than all, as she was also loved more than all, so suffered with her dying Son as though she had truly suffered. For according to the greatness of her love, so also was her pain. For since she loved her Son more than herself, the wounds which He received in the body she herself bore in the mind with an inmost sense of pain; and for her the very Passion of Christ was a martyrdom. For the flesh of Christ was in a certain manner her flesh, that is, flesh from her flesh, which, taken from her by Christ, she loved more in Christ than her own in herself. And the more she loved it, the more also she grieved; she suffered more in mind than a martyr in body. Accordingly she shines forth with the singular privilege of a glorious martyrdom.

For the other martyrs were perfected by the martyrdom of their own death. But she furnished from her own flesh the flesh that was to suffer for the salvation of the world; and in the Passion of Christ, and by reason of the Passion, the force of pain so took hold of her soul that, as though perfected by martyrdom in Christ, she is believed to have merited, after Christ, the highest glory of martyrdom.

Likewise on the dividing of the spirit and soul of Mary.

There is also another thing to be considered in this place, as belonging to the dividing of soul and spirit. For the Mother of God, since she knew that the salvation of the world would come from the death of her only-begotten Son, both willed His death and grieved at it. She willed it, indeed, for the sake of her own salvation and ours alike; yet she grieved, because she was a mother, the mother of Christ’s weakness, and herself weak. Between the sadness of the soul, therefore, and the joy of the spirit, which rejoiced in God her Saviour (cf. Luke 1:47), the sword of the spirit divided: that sword, namely, which divided between father and son, between brother and brother, between bridegroom and bride, between friend and friend, between soul and spirit, between soul and soul, between spirit and spirit, between love and love, between hatred and hatred, between love and hatred, between peace and peace, between war and war, between peace and war. “I came not,” says the Lord, “to send peace, but the sword” (Matt. 10:34). Who can know all the divisions of soul and spirit, which those who love, wounded by charity, cannot but feel in themselves, and for their multitude are not able to number? For manifold is the dividing of soul and spirit; and as the word of God touches the heart in manifold ways, so in manifold ways it reaches to the dividing of soul and spirit.

On the dividing of the spirit by itself.

Although from what has been said about the dividing of the soul by itself it can be weighed what the dividing of the spirit by itself is, yet it is pleasing to touch briefly on the dividing of the spirit itself, that occasion may be given to the wise man, and he may become wiser (cf. Prov. 9:9). God is spirit (John 4:24); and he who cleaves to God is one spirit (1 Cor. 6:17). But the spirit of man, since it cannot gather and unite all that is divided and scattered in itself unless it join itself to the one and simple God, yet divides itself towards God, when it joins itself to Him in diverse ways, and in joining seeks in diverse ways to join more closely and to be joined. And for these things who is sufficient (cf. 2 Cor. 2:16)? Who numbers all the transports of dread, of wonder, of amazement, of meditation and of contemplation? The goads of compunction, the joys of devotion, the measures of jubilation, the long drawings of sighs, the sobs of groaning, the heats of desire, the strivings of prayer, who numbers them? He alone who numbers the days of the world and the drops of rain (cf. Sir. 1:2) — He it is. He can comprehend these things, and number them. For the mind which is fixed in the love of God is subjected to innumerable passions of love, and is affected in innumerable ways; and while it wonderfully alternates the changes of its affections, yet it loves constantly and immovably; and while it varies itself in many forms,

it divides itself towards God, but does not divide itself from God; nor does it separate from itself Him whom it perseveres in loving amid so great a variety. Therefore the sword of the spirit reaches even to the dividing of the spirit. And this sword so pursues the old man that it is too little to kill him unless it also cuts in pieces him whom it has killed, and crushes him utterly, and reaches even to the dividing of the joints and marrow, until the body of sin is utterly destroyed (cf. Rom. 6:6). So too the sword of Samuel not only killed Agag, the very fat, but also cut him in pieces (1 Sam. 15:33). Let us therefore attend more diligently to how this sword divides the joints; and then how it comes to the dividing of the marrow.

The life of the sinner, whether it be considered sin by sin, as it were limb by limb, or be brought all together before the eyes of the heart, is found to have both joints and marrow. For a whole evil life is so knit together out of many sins as one body is out of many members. Now the joints of the members are the junctures of the parts. And sin is joined to sin either through the motion of one’s own will or through the judgement of the divine severity. For he who sins, and purposes to remain in sin by living ill, commits certain sins by means of certain others; certain sins for the sake of others, some for the preparation of those that follow, some for the concealment, or excuse, or defence of those that went before; some after the delay of a deliberation held with himself, some according to the impulse of a sudden will, as it were from the occasion of a present temptation and the chance befalling of an opportunity that offers itself. And the connections of sins, arising now from premeditated causes, now from sudden ones, are as it were the joints of the members, by which the life of the sinner, like one body, grows and advances to its own increase, until iniquity is filled up. For when the deserts of sins require it, and the equity of the divine judgements dictates it, the sinner, while he despises penance and resists the divine will, is sometimes let go to his own will, and is permitted to fall from sin into sin, since the cause of the offences that follow is the neglected penance for those that went before. And so it comes about that, while iniquity is added to iniquity, the sinner is shut out from justice and from the kingdom together. Hence it is written: “Add iniquity upon their iniquity, and let them not come into Thy justice. Let them be blotted out of the book of the living, and with the just let them not be written” (Ps. 68:28–29). This is the end of those who abuse the riches of God’s goodness; and while they heap sins upon sins, they treasure up for themselves the wrath of God, until the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all their injustice (cf. Rom. 2:4–5; 1:18). Penance, then, is not to be neglected, through which the word of God, living and effectual, in the fear of the dreadful and terrible judgement, dissolves the junctures of the old life and the connections of the former way of living, as the joints of a single body, and reaches so far to the dividing of the joints that it bursts all the bonds of sins, so that sin may not cleave to sin by any tie. Hence the prophet says: “Loose the bands of impiety, take away the burdens that press down”

(Isa. 58:6). Therefore the word of God divides the joints when, through contrition of heart, it tears apart piece by piece all that is badly knit together in our depraved ways, and crushes it as the calf of Lebanon (Ps. 28:6); when it draws apart from one another all things that cleave together stubbornly; when it wrenches all the members of the old man from their junctures, and, the joints being loosed, leaves none of the members unseparated. And the members are those which the Apostle recounts, saying: “Mortify your members which are upon the earth: fornication, uncleanness, lust, evil concupiscence, avarice” (Col. 3:5). Now although a single sin is a member of the body of sin, or of the body of the old man, yet it can itself be called a body in its own right; because it is completed by its parts just as one body is made whole by its junctures. That a sin is called a body is shown from what the Lord says: “If your eye be evil, your whole body also will be evil” (Matt. 6:23). This is not undeservedly applied to the whole life of the sinner, which is understood to be wholly dark when he who lives for himself refers the intention of his living to himself. Nonetheless this same thing is rightly believed to apply also to some single sin; because, when the intention of a work is depraved by the fault of error or of iniquity, even that very thing which seems to be done rightly is reckoned among the works of darkness.

And this body is dissolved by the dividing of its joints when the whole content of the sin is examined by the testimony of a faithful conscience; when the quality and quantity and manner and cause of the sin, and its every circumstance, are arraigned as before God; when the whole heart is shaken within itself by all that shames it and all that terrifies it; and, in hope of pardon, is wholly kindled to love God, and, crushed into small pieces, is offered wholly to God as a holocaust, like a sacrifice that is cut in pieces. Therefore the sword of the spirit reaches even to the dividing of the joints. It reaches also even to the dividing of the marrow (Heb. 4:12). The bones are watered by the marrow, and in the whole body nothing is found more inward than the marrow. Therefore what is inmost in our thoughts and affections, and in our works, this is the marrow of the body. And what is more inmost in our desire than what is chiefly desired? What more inmost in our hope than what is hoped for? What more inmost in our love than what is chiefly loved? What more inmost in all the thoughts and affections of the heart than what is thought of and longed for above the rest? And to one who asks what it is that is inmost, nothing else presents itself, to speak of sins, than the delight of sin. For by those who sin, at the very beginning of their sins, or in their course, or at their end, nothing is more desired, nothing more sought after, than the delight which is felt in sinning, or is hoped for in feeling. For one is often pleased to sin apart from delight, but never except, mediately or immediately, for the sake of delight. One is often pleased to sin when delight is present; but one is never pleased to sin except

that delight may be present. What then is more inward in sins, or what is rather to be called the marrow of sin, than delight, which in every sin is sought above all, even where it is not found? To turn our discourse from sin to righteousness, what is rather to be called the marrow of righteousness than the inmost fatness of righteousness itself, that is, its inmost delight?

On the threefold fatness of the good.

If we consider the bodies of animals, and what in them is fat, there will appear a certain outer fatness clinging to the flesh itself, then another, inner fatness, clinging also to the vital organs, which is usually called suet. Then another fatness filling the bones, which is wholly fatness, and this is the marrow. The soul of the righteous man too, in the very beginnings of righteousness, has a certain fatness in itself, inasmuch as it delights in the law of God, but as it were clinging to the flesh, because, weighed down by the old habit of the flesh, it does not yet freely aspire to the perfection of righteousness. But when, having climbed certain steps of righteousness, it begins, now advanced, to feel its own progress, it desires to be filled with the inner fatness that clings to the vital organs, as he shows who says: Let my soul be filled as with suet and fatness (Ps. 62:6). He desires, indeed, to be filled with suet, and so to be made fat most fully within, that his burnt offering may become fat, until, righteousness brought to perfection and most fully delighted by love of it, made fat at last as it were to the marrow, he can say: I will offer Thee burnt offerings full of marrow (Ps. 65:15), etc. There are righteous men who so use this world that in things unlawful and not granted they would rather go without than have, but in lawful things would rather have than go without, so that they use whatever things are granted according to indulgence, having wives and possessions and the other things granted to human weakness, which may be used without danger to salvation, if one pleases to use them. There are others who, from zeal for perfection, renounce all things, even those granted, as far as human weakness allows; who, according to the Apostle's counsel, having food and that wherewith they are covered, are content with these (1 Tim. 6:8); who are the fatter in spiritual goods the leaner they are found in the goods of the world for God's sake. Righteousness therefore has fatness outwardly, and inwardly suet or marrow; and the more inwardly, the deeper and the more perfect it is. For by the reckoning of another consideration the delight of righteousness can be called its marrow, not only in the righteousness of the perfect but also in the righteousness of beginners and of those making progress. For no righteousness is so middling, or so slight, that it does not have some little strength joined to it in the measure of its middlingness, and in the strength delight, as marrow in a bone.

On the threefold fatness of the wicked.

Iniquity too has its fatness, and suet, and marrow: in those who grow gross alike with love and abundance of temporal things, and, lifted up into pride, kick back, less obedient to God, and, as iniquity grows, by intemperate use of the things in which they superabound, and by dainty habit

grow the grosser. Then, with still greater pride, through the practice of vices they are made fat with the very love of iniquity; at last, by a proud esteem of themselves, even to open contempt of God, they are spread wide and swell up as with a most full fatness of presumption, so that they forsake God their maker and depart from God their salvation, as it is written: The beloved grew gross and kicked back; he grew gross, he grew fat, he was spread wide (Deut. 32:15). And again: They have shut up their fat; their mouth has spoken pride (Ps. 16:10). And once more: Their iniquity came forth as from fatness; they have passed into the affection of the heart. They have thought and spoken wickedness; they have spoken iniquity on high (Ps. 72:7–8). So iniquity, beginning as it were from the surface of the heart, little by little and smoothly enters into its inner parts, until it becomes the marrow of iniquity, like oil in his bones. For there is in the soul that which desires evil; there is also in it that which consents, that what is desired may be done; there is in it that which moves the members of the body as weapons of iniquity unto iniquity, to accomplish the work according to the desire of the one desiring and consenting. There is in the same soul that which takes delight in the very work which is desired, and to which consent is given, and towards which it moves itself, so far that it even moves its body to the service of its ministry, that what it delights in may be fulfilled. For all these are for the sake of delight. There is besides in the soul itself that which presides over all these, and to which they are pleasing: first the desire, then the consent, then the movement to the work, last the delight in the work. But when these four, namely desire and consent, movement to the work, and the work arising from the movement, are pleasing together, they have as the cause why they please, and as their end, the delight which is sought and striven for in the work. There are thus five things: desire, consent, movement to the work, the work arising from the movement, and the delight of the work. But four of these are found in the soul, namely desire and consent, and movement to the work, and the delight of the work. The work itself, however, is not in the soul, but by the force and will of the soul, voluntarily moving the body, it is done outwardly through the ministry of the body for the sake of the delight which is sought in the work itself, or from it. I say "from it" on account of some work which perhaps does not delight, but which is nevertheless done for the sake of something else that delights. And when these three, namely desire, and consent, and movement to the work, are pleasing together for the sake of the work, or for the sake of the delight of the work, it can be observed that delight is joined not to the work alone but to the three that go before, which please for the sake of the very delight of the work. Desire therefore has its own delight, when it pleases [one] to desire.

That the desire of evil is not in man's power.

Often these men desire what they wholly do not will, and from which they wholly dissent; and they feel the desire of evil fully, but do not consent. And the [desire] which it is given them to hold back so that it does not go forward, they are not able to restrain so that it does not rise, nor to command that it be still. For the desire of evil is not in man's power, in such a way, that is, that at his will it does not rise when at rest, or when rising

be still, or even does not grow to some degree. For this reason the righteous man, though he is the Lord's freedman and snatched from the yoke of sin, is nevertheless in this respect not yet free, because he is not yet fully freed from the concupiscence of the flesh, which is moved through the desire of evil. But he is free in so far as he has evil concupiscence in his power, which, through the grace of God by Whom he has been freely justified, he is able to hold back so that it does not come as far as consent to the work; for this grace is given to the one justified. Yet the justified man, although established in this freedom with the grace of God assisting, can, when tempted by concupiscence, not consent; but concupiscence, before it is moved through unlawful desire, he cannot hold back, as was said before, so that it does not rise; nor has he it in his power that it should not grow to some degree, or that it should at once grow still. For grace of so great a power is not yet given to man, even when justified. But he who is righteous can, by long use and the exercise of discipline, obtain the grace that this concupiscence rise more rarely, grow less, and grow still more quickly. The sinner, however, who through consent to sin is the slave of sin, is bound the more and the more tightly by the chains of this servitude, the more he desires concupiscence to be moved in him, even when it is not moved.

For some, sunk into the depth of iniquity, provoke [it] by refined means and procure incitements to sin, to satisfy their will, by which they desire the effect of their accustomed foulness even when they have no feeling [for it]; who whet sin so far that they wish to sin when they cannot sin. So much does evil concupiscence itself please them, and its motion, that is, evil desire or feeling, that they do not wish to be without them, but desire these to grow more and more in them; and this is deep iniquity. Concupiscence, moreover, is the cause and beginning of the sin that follows, as delight is the end towards which the desire of sin and the consent to it tend. Concupiscence, then, is hateful, as death is, because through the delight of sin it leads to death, as it is written: Concupiscence, when it has conceived, brings forth sin; but sin, when it has been completed, begets death (Jas. 1:15). The righteous man therefore justly hates concupiscence, as death; justly he fights it with all his strength and with the whole warfare of spiritual discipline, that he may at least be able to weaken what he cannot root out entirely. And the more the righteous man hates this concupiscence, the more he also loves righteousness. The more the concupiscence of the flesh, which lusts against the spirit, decreases, the more the concupiscence of the spirit, which lusts against the flesh, increases. As unrighteousness begins from the concupiscence of the flesh, so righteousness too takes its beginning from the concupiscence of the spirit. Therefore to hate the concupiscence of the flesh and to love the concupiscence of the spirit is a kind of righteousness, without which neither he who begins can be righteous, nor he who makes progress, nor he who has come to the perfect. And he makes the more progress, and draws the nearer to perfection, the more he hates the one and loves the other.

That three things bring the delight of the concupiscence of the spirit to perfection.

This love and that hatred three things bring to perfection: the desire of righteousness, and the purpose, and the carrying out of both. But desire alone, that is, without purpose and carrying out, is an empty desire, and does not touch the sinner's heart; for the hour it pricks, but in the time of temptation it comes to nothing through its own lightness. Such perhaps was the desire of Balaam the soothsayer when, contemplating the tents of Jacob, he said, pricked at heart: Let my soul die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like theirs (Num. 23:10). Many criminals, shameful men and evildoers have a desire of this kind, who for the hour are pricked uselessly towards righteousness, because they return damnably to their fault. There are some who have the desire of righteousness with the purpose of a better life; but what they arrange they put off for long, and either set no term to the delay, or after one term fix another term; and when it has come, after the term they still seek occasion for a delay of interminable term. These, if perhaps they are overtaken, are freed from the penalty of unrighteousness neither by the desire nor by the purpose of a righteousness put off. Therefore for those who desire and purpose the way of righteousness the carrying out of the desire and the purpose is necessary. It is one thing to be already making for Jerusalem by going there, and to have the face of one going to Jerusalem; it is another to make plans about the journey with idle desire, and always to put it off, and never to set out on the road. The carrying out of a holy desire and a holy purpose, then, is the exercise of body and soul according to the concupiscence of the spirit against the concupiscence of the flesh, consenting to the one for righteousness, never giving assent to the other against righteousness. And the desire and the purpose of righteousness, and the unwearied pursuit of both, bring to perfection a holy hatred against the concupiscence of the flesh, which begins unrighteousness through the desire and purpose of evil, and brings it to completion without desire and purpose of good. The desire and purpose of evil suffice for a man to be evil; but desire and purpose do not suffice for one to be good: yet without these no one is good, and no one is not most wicked. For those who have neither the purpose nor the desire of good love evil concupiscence beyond all measure, drawing the evil feeling into themselves not as it were by a temptation of the mind, but passing into the feeling of their own accord, apart from temptation. Of whom it is written: Their iniquity came forth as from fatness; they have passed into the affection of the heart (Ps. 72:7). And that word: They lusted with lust in the desert (Ps. 105:14). This concupiscence therefore, if it is not resisted, first deprives [a man] of consent to the good, then of the purpose and desire of the good, until it subjects the whole will and the whole reason to itself, so that neither does a movement of the will flutter towards the good, nor does a spark of reason show even a little light, but the whole heart is hardened and grows dark, and the lamp in Israel is put out. And when neither the will is moved to the desire of good nor the reason moves to the purpose of good, concupiscence, victorious over both now subject to it, triumphs gloriously. Who

is so conquered by the conquering concupiscence, and so blind, that he loves it, it follows that he holds in hatred the concupiscence of the spirit, which stands over against it. For he hates righteousness, he hates to consent to righteousness, he hates even to desire righteousness, he hates not to desire evil, he hates not to consent to evil concupiscence, he hates not to sin, he hates to leave his sins, he hates to repent, he hates the truth that rebukes, he hates the wisdom that counsels what is useful, he hates the discipline of peace, he hates the grace of God, he all but hates God Himself; nay, by the advance of iniquity he even hates Him without cause, falling ever into worse, until he falls into the unforgivable sin, which will not be forgiven, neither in this age nor in the age to come. Evil concupiscence, conqueror and mistress, so hurls her subject from sin into sin that from love of herself she leads him on to hatred of God, until the pit shuts its mouth upon him. Now of so great an evil the delight of sin is the cause in one way, the concupiscence of sin in another. The one is the cause for the sake of which, the other that through which. The latter begins, the former completes; the latter by the unlawful appearances of things draws away from the good and entices to evil, the former seizes and shuts in what has been drawn away and enticed; the latter goes before the consent to sin as its cause, the former follows.

On the body and soul of the old man.

As in one man body and soul are distinguished, and the body is seen to have flesh and bones, and in the bones marrow, while the soul is believed to hold the power of choice for moving the body: so in the composition of the one sin our old man, who may not absurdly be called the man of sin or the son of perdition, has concupiscence for the flesh of sin, according to what the Apostle says: “The flesh lusts against the spirit” (Gal. 5:17). But consent, in which is the strength of sin, as the strength of the body is in the bone, it has for bone, and delight for marrow. And for soul it has that which in the mind stands highest and is supreme, and presides over that which desires, and that which consents, and that also which takes delight; to which desire and consent and delight can be pleasing or displeasing: without whose connivance neither is desire brought as far as consent, nor is the body moved to act, nor is the work brought to completion from the movement, in which the delight striven after is sought. But since all things are pleasing to the mind that presides over all, and it takes delight in all, delight is not felt in the work alone; but besides the delight of the work there is the delight of the mind, both in desire and in consent, but in desire only when in consent. For when it does not please [one] to consent, it either does not please at all, or pleases less, to desire. But when it pleases to consent, it pleases also to complete. He whom all these things please takes delight in them all. But the delight which is in desire, although it seems to belong rather to the desire itself than to the consent, that is, rather to the fatness of the flesh than to the marrow of the bone, is nevertheless recognized to belong to the consent for this reason, that without consent the desire itself is not wholly pleasing. Therefore among the marrows are found, with the delight of the work, the delight of desire, and the delight

of consent, and every delight of the mind, by whose movement the whole is ordered wherein it takes wicked delight. But these marrows, hidden so deep within bones so closely shut, who or whose sword can divide, except His Who can crush the bones of sinners and break their horns? He it is indeed Who humbles the proud even to ashes and embers, Who scatters mist like ashes; Who sends His crystal like morsels, Who leads out the bound in strength, likewise those who provoke, who dwell in tombs (Ps. 67). He surely, Who can raise the dead, He alone has power to turn all harmful delights into the bitterness of penitence, so that the whole of what wickedly pleased now displeases, until the body of sin is consumed to the very marrow.

And a discerner of the thoughts and intentions of the heart; and there is no creature invisible in His sight: to Whom our speech is (Heb. 4).

The Lord knows the thoughts and intentions of our heart. No doubt He knows all of them for Himself, but for us He knows those which, through the grace of discernment, He makes us discern, of what sort they are. For the spirit which is in man does not know the whole of what is in man, and concerning its own thoughts, which it perceives as it consents or does not consent [to them], it does not always perceive them as they are in reality. And those it beholds before the eyes of the mind, it does not finely discern, because its eyes are dimmed. For often, from one's own thought, or from a man, or from the tempter, something is urged upon us under the appearance of piety which does not merit the reward of virtue before the eyes of God. For there are certain likenesses of true virtues, and likewise of vices, which play tricks on the eyes of the heart, and as if by certain illusions so dazzle the keen sight of the mind that often the appearance of good seems to show itself in a thing not good, and likewise the appearance of evil in a thing not evil: which is a part of our misery and ignorance, much to be lamented by us, and much to be feared. For it is written: There are ways which seem right to a man, whose end leads down to the depths (Prov. 14:16). To avoid this danger, blessed John admonishes us, saying: Test the spirits, whether they are from God (1 John 4). But who can test whether the spirits are from God, unless discernment of spirits has been given him by God, so that he may be able to examine spiritual thoughts, affections, and intentions finely and with true judgement? Discernment, indeed, is the mother of all the virtues, and is itself necessary to each one, whether in the governing of another's life or in the directing or correcting of one's own. And this no word can make known to our senses, except that living and effective one, which is the discerner of the thoughts and intentions of the heart. This word, moreover, sets our whole life in order according to a fixed form, and directs it to a fixed end. Under its ordering, in all things that we arrange to do, we ought always to think of God, that it may be done according to Him, and no less for His sake. You ask how according to Him, how for His sake? Hear both. Every action of ours must be directed to the end of God's promises. It is not lawful for us to do anything other than what He commands, or permits, or counsels;

it is not fitting for us to hope for anything other than what He promises, and because He promises it. For our righteousness is formed at the nod of Him Who commands or counsels: our hope is raised up by the truthfulness of Him Who promises. Right is the thought of things to be done which is governed by God's nod; pious is the intention which is directed simply towards Him. Thus at last the whole body of our life, or of any action of ours, will be full of light, if the eye be simple. Now the simple eye is both an eye and simple: [an eye] because through right thought it sees what is to be done, and [simple] because through pious intention it does simply what is not to be done doubly. Right thought admits no error; pious intention shuts out pretence. And this is true discernment: the joining of right thought and pious intention. Do not wonder that I have called discernment a joining, when discernment signifies division. For this joining is not without division. For he who joins these two things divides between light and darkness. For error and pretence are darkness; but righteousness and piety are light in the Lord. But whoever, in the choice of things to be done or in the end of things to be hoped for, strives to divide from each other right thought according to God and pious intention for God's sake, because his eye has some part of darkness, either walks in darkness or knows not where he goes. For he walks in darkness who does evil; he knows not where he goes who does not tend towards God. Evil things, therefore, are not to be done for God's sake, nor are good things to be done otherwise than for God's sake. For the intention of vanity corrupts the work of piety, and the piety of the intention does not excuse the iniquity of the work.

All things therefore are to be done in the light of discernment, as in God and before God; because there is no creature invisible in His sight. None corporeal, none

animal, none spiritual: nothing that has been made by God for man's sake, or in man, nothing that has been done in man or by man against God. For how many things there are in man which man himself partly sees, partly does not see; all these are manifest to God. For the heart of man is a great deep; all darknesses are hidden in its secret places. There are creeping things without number. But God, Who sees in secret, Who also enlightens the hidden things of darkness, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed, sees everything visible and invisible: For all things are naked and open to His eyes (Heb. 4). Many things are now covered and hidden by secret silences and counsels, by devices and fictions, by fraud and guile, by art of words and of deeds, by evasions and excuses, by pretences and dissemblings. But nothing is covered that shall not be revealed. For all things that are now cunningly hidden, the word to Whom our word is addressed will strip of their coverings. For to Him account must be rendered, and of that very reason to which the ordering of our whole life was entrusted. And so does the Lord consider the ways of each, so does He number his steps, that not even the smallest thoughts, nor the slightest words, which with us have grown cheap by use, remain unexamined by His judgement. What word then shall answer for me, or what account can I render for myself? unless I say with the Prophet: Thou hast understood my thoughts afar off, my path and my line Thou hast searched out, and all my ways Thou hast foreseen, for there is no speech in my tongue (Ps. 138). Good Jesus, I am not sufficient to render account; do Thou receive prayer in place of account, and enter not into judgement with Thy servant, for in Thy sight no man living shall be justified (Ps. 142).