Works (CSEL) 8 part 2/4

For those, then, for whom he gave that which is above all things, can it come about that he has not given them all things in him? For he excepted nothing who yielded up the author of all. There is nothing, therefore, which we should fear can be denied us, nothing in which we ought to lose our perseverance and distrust the divine bounty, whose generosity was so long-lasting and continuous, that first he predestined, then called, and those whom he called these he also justified, and those whom he justified these he also glorified. Can he forsake those whom he has followed up with such great benefits all the way to their rewards? Among so many benefits of God, are any snares of the accuser to be feared? But who would dare to accuse those whom he sees chosen by divine judgment?

Can God the Father himself, who bestowed his gifts, rescind them, and banish from the grace of paternal affection those whom he received by adoption? But is the fear that the judge may be too severe? Consider whom you have as judge. Surely the Father has given all judgment to Christ. Can he then condemn you whom he redeemed from death, for whom he offered himself, whose life he recognizes to be the recompense of his own death? Will he not say: «What profit is there in my blood, if I condemn him whom I myself have saved?» Then you consider the judge, you do not consider the advocate. Can he pass a more severe sentence, who does not cease to intercede, that the grace of the Father's reconciliation may be conferred upon us? But even if some grievous things should threaten, by no means should they separate us from Christ.

Why should we not, for his sake, endure even hard and bitter things, who for our sake took on things so unworthy? And therefore love ought to be in us, so that by no perils we are called back from Christ. For it is written: «Many waters will not be able to extinguish love, and rivers will not enclose it, for the soul of one who loves crosses the torrent.» No tempest, no deep peril, no terror of death or punishment diminishes the force of love; for in these we are proven, in these is the blessed life, even if it be flooded with many perils. For the wise man is not broken by the pains of the body, nor harassed by misfortunes, but even amid afflictions he remains blessed.

For the adversities of the body neither diminish the gift of the blessed life, nor sip away anything of its sweetness, because the blessedness of life is not in the delight of the body, but in a conscience pure from every stain of sin, and in the mind of him who recognizes that what is good delights, even if it be harsh, while what is unseemly, even if it be sweet, does not soothe. The cause, therefore, of living well is not bodily delight, but the prudence of the mind. For it is not the flesh, which is subject to passion, but the mind, which judges, because nothing delights better than the honorableness of counsels and the beauty of works; this, then, is the interpreter of the blessed life.

For prudence, or reason, the arbiter of passion, is better than passion, and that which judges is more excellent than that which is subject to judgment. For it cannot be that what is irrational should be better than reason. He therefore has in himself his own recompense, who follows Jesus, and in his own disposition he has reward and grace. Even if he endures hard things, he is nevertheless blessed in his own character, blessed in the very perils, as the Lord defined when he said: «Blessed are those who suffer persecution for the sake of righteousness.» There is, then, a blessed life in human beings, but in those, namely, in whom life shall have been perfect. But the perfect life is not this sensible one, but that rational one, according to the exercise of reason and the liveliness of the mind.

In which there is not a portion of the man, but the perfection, which lies not so much in the condition of the man as in his operation; for this is what makes him blessed. To this man, then, what is good except he himself to himself? That which he has, this good is also present to him and will be for him the cause of future goods. Of this good Solomon said: «Drink water from your own vessels and from the springs of your own wells. Let your waters overflow from your own fountain, but let them run abroad in your streets. Let them be set apart for you alone, and let no stranger be a partaker with you. Let the fountain of your water be your own.» Use, therefore, your own inner good. The greatest testimony of this good is that he who has it does not seek other things.

For what should he seek who despises lower things and clings to the most excellent, as it is written: «Let the deer of friendship and the colt of graces converse with you? Let friendship go before you and be one with you in every time»; for good is the friendship of the virtues and the love of the highest good. And so that perfect man seeks nothing else but the one and surpassing good. Whence he also says: «One thing I have asked of the Lord, this I will seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, and behold the delight of the Lord.» Nor indeed should you disdain him as though he were narrow and poor, because he is content with the, as it were, solitary fellowship of the one good. For surrounded by the friendship of this good he will be most abundant.

For to a man of this kind there abounds enough for blessedness and for the possession of the good, and therefore he desires nothing else. For he seeks nothing as though it were new, who has all things. For there is nothing of good which he does not have, nor is he delighted by superfluous things, but by necessary ones—and by that very thing which is necessary not to himself but to the flesh that cleaves to him; and he indulges that which does not differ from the purpose of the inner man, so that he may make both one and reconcile the inner man to God, together with the outer, that in both there may be one spirit. The man, then, of this purpose is neither diminished by losses, nor broken by adversities, nor hindered by barriers, nor saddened by the losses of his own. For their instruction the apostle says:

'We would not have you ignorant, brethren, concerning them that are asleep, that you be not sorrowful, even as the rest who have no hope.' For he consoles himself with faith in the resurrection and with the grace of the reward to come, nor does he receive sadness into that mind by which he cleaves to God and rejoices in the delight of the divine presence. But he who is grieved over these things is not grieved according to God, and what is not according to God is full of folly. From the perfect man, therefore, the sorrow of this world is far removed, which is not according to God, as is also every anxiety over bodily hardship.

For to this disposition of mind and substance there is not reckoned the condition of the body, nor any external use of nature, since the unconquered soul ought to preserve a uniform constancy alike against the pleasures of the body and the very frailty of nature, against bereavements, losses, and insults. Thus he who desires to hold the palm of blessedness must cut into the body itself and strip off the senses of the flesh, for the fruit of that blessedness lies not in the possession of one virtue but, if it be possible, in the fellowship of many, indeed of all the virtues. The perfect man, therefore, neither knows the discomforts of this body nor the adversities of the world, nor does he feel them, since he bears a mind alien to any fear that they may befall him. For the more perfect life is not defined by being free from these things, but by despising them.

For if it were so defined, that the blessed life were one which could be found free and empty of such mishaps, then surely when these things befell, no one could be defined as blessed. These things, therefore, are set aside, and this alone is required in the estimation of the blessed life: that its definition be held not in other things, but in the possession of what is true and good; since he who has this spurns the rest and seeks them not. I now ask whether the wise man takes delight in bodily health. We cannot deny that he delights in it according to nature, and that he gladly accepts feeling no pain rather than pain — unless perchance for Christ's sake, for whom, if the cause demand it, he would readily accept even the disabling of his body and offer his whole body to death.

Yet the same man, even apart from the cause of faith and righteousness, if health be lacking, is not stricken in soul nor broken by bodily pain, for he can console himself with the perfection of the virtues. I ask also whether he delights in children. Who would deny this? For it is not a hard and iron man, but a perfect man, that is sought. Yet even if he lose his children, he is not therefore less blessed, who is therefore no less perfect; for what is perfect is blessed. Indeed, such a perfect man is wont to appear more so if he endures adversity than if he abounds in prosperity; although neither when external advantages or bodily joys are absent nor when they are present is anything wont to be taken from his virtue or added to it. Yet for very many it has redounded as much to praise to have borne adversity bravely as never to have fallen into it.

But these things are weighed by appearance, not by true worth. That is the deep thing: that the righteous man wills nothing save that one and surpassing good; that he reaches out to this alone, accounts this one thing among his goods, ever desires not another thing along with it but it alone, and in this takes his delight. If to him another thing be joined which delights him — as is the sweetness of children — that one good is not lost, but this other is added. For accidents do not diminish the blessedness which they cannot increase, because that good remains full and inviolable, into which the soul clothes itself and into which it has grafted and poured itself. Perfect virtue remains ever amid adversities and delights, and neither do adversities diminish anything of its perfection nor do delights add to its perfection.

For what is there that he who has ascended to the summit should feel either of loss from perishable things or of advantage? Nor indeed — though this is held by most to be the gravest of evils — will he think himself wretched if he himself or his children should come into captivity; for he will not bear intolerably what nature holds, or what seems good to the Lord. Indeed the righteous man said: 'Good is the word that the Lord has spoken'; and he said: 'Let there be peace and faithfulness in my days.' Surely this righteous Hezekiah did not rejoice that the hardship of captivity had passed down upon his sons; but he could not gainsay the will of the Lord, and therefore he received His commands with an even mind, like a humble servant. There is added this also: that he could reckon that even in captivity the merit of virtue could shine forth.

For Jeremiah was no less blessed in captivity, nor Daniel less, nor Ezra less, nor were the blessed Hananiah, Azariah, and Mishael less blessed than if they had not fallen into captivity; for they were led into captivity precisely that they might bring to the people both present comforts in captivity and hope of escaping captivity. For it belongs to the perfect man to sustain the common lot of nature by strength of soul and to lead it to better things, and not to succumb to those things which seem to most men terrible and dreadful, but, like a brave soldier, to bear up under the assaults of the gravest disasters, to undergo the conflicts; and, like a provident helmsman, to steer the ship in a storm, and, by meeting the rising waves, rather to avoid shipwreck by cleaving the waves than by shunning them.

This man is not fearful in persecution, not softened amid torments so as to provoke the torturer; but like a brave athlete who strikes back at the one who scourges him — if not with blows, at least with the lash of his speech — who despises the torments dreaded by many, saying: 'The strokes inflicted on them have become the arrows of children.' Though he wrestle with the gravest pain, he does not show himself pitiable, but displays, as a light in a lantern, that even amid harsh tempests and the gravest blasts his light shines, and that the virtue of his soul cannot be extinguished.

This man is not soft under wrongs done to his own, nor anxious about the tomb of his own body, knowing that heaven is owed to it; not more abject in the captivity of his fellow citizens, but like a stern judge condemning the perfidy and errors of the unfaithful — as did Daniel, who exposed the thefts of the priests and refuted their superstitions, showing that they rested on no truth but were veiled by frauds. Such, in short, is the perfect man, who would have all act well and that no evil befall anyone; and if, against his will, evil should befall, he himself nonetheless loses nothing of his own blessedness.

But perhaps someone might think that sickness and weakness of the body are a hindrance to fulfilling the office of perfection, on the ground that no works of the hands or deeds can proceed. But the righteous man will not feel these to be a hindrance to himself; nay, he will rebuke even the man who pitiably bewails such things and convict him as it were of cowardice, because he reckons more in the use of the body than in the virtue of the soul; because he desires those things to which he would be a slave, when he has that whereby he could rather command others; because he groans in poverty, who could be above the world's wealth — for to the faithful man the whole world of riches belongs — because he laments his lowly birth, who ought to despise royal powers and to command the rich and the mighty.

For this is the life of the righteous man: who ought to reckon as common even the means he has, nay even to divide them among the needy, to dispense to the poor; to cut back his own pleasures, to reduce his expenditure, to apply the thrift of temperance, to keep sobriety in prosperity, patience in adversity, endurance in pain, magnanimity in dangers; to know no vows for perpetual health, not to be shaken by the terror of impending death, nor to think him more excellent for whom, according to nature, children, kinsmen, well-being, gladness, and abundance have overflowed, than him to whom these have been lacking; and to weigh merits not by the externals of the world but by the household goods of virtue. Who would deny that this too is the pattern of the righteous man: to fear nothing,

to dread nothing except the losses of virtue, and to repress the empty fears of others — fears which they have over the anxiety of dangers, the dread of death, the infirmity of the body — so that he may teach that to be dissolved from the body and to be with Christ is much better, and may show that operations are not hindered by the weaknesses of the body, but are increased; and that a man is commended not by the splendor of his lineage, nor by the support of his kinsmen, nor by his wealth, but by a good disposition of heart.

For Elijah was no less blessed than Moses, although the one, needy of food, in a cheap sheepskin, without children, without provision, without companion, and the other, leader of peoples, glad in his offspring, girded with power, by their diverse manner established an equal merit — as was declared in the Gospel when they shone forth with the Lord Jesus in the glory of the resurrection; for He seems to have given them an equal reward as if to equal witnesses of His glory. Nor was Elisha less blessed than David, although the one was subject to kings and the other endowed with royal power, they attained a grace of prophetic sanctification by no means unequal. For what is lacking to him who possesses that good and has ever as his companion and consort virtue itself? In what state is he not most powerful?

In what poverty is he not rich? In what lowliness of birth not illustrious? In what leisure not industrious? In what disability not vigorous? In what infirmity not strong? In what quiet of sleep not at rest — he whom his own virtue does not forsake even while he rests? In what solitude not thronged — he whom the blessed life surrounds, whom grace clothes, whom the mantle of glory illumines? For he is no less blessed at leisure than when he works, no less glorious sleeping than waking, because he is no less safe and sound asleep than when awake. But when can he seem to be at rest, whose mind ever works? And when is he alone, who is ever with that good, of which the prophet says: 'We shall be filled with the good things of Your house'?

When is he cast down, whose conversation is in heaven? When is he not comely, who conforms himself to the likeness of that comely and only good — who, even if he be loosed in his limbs, yet lifts himself up in mind? And just like one accustomed to play upon the lyre: if he should see it broken to pieces, its strings slackened and shattered, and its use interrupted,

would cast it away and not seek out its melodies, but would soothe himself with his own voice — so this man too will suffer the lyre of his body to lie idle, and will delight himself in his heart, soothe himself by the remembrance of a good conscience, lift himself up by the divine oracles and the prophetic writings, holding that sweet and joyful thing in his soul, embracing it in his mind, to whom nothing sad can befall, since the grace of the divine presence ever breathes upon him, and he himself is present to himself, suffused with the highest tranquillity of soul. THE SECOND BOOK. In the previous book we discoursed on the precepts of the virtues; in the one that follows let us make use of the examples of illustrious men, who, placed in the gravest dangers, did not lose the blessedness of life, but rather gained it.

Was not Jacob also blessed, even when he forsook his fatherland? Nay, plainly blessed, who took up the hardships of exile in order to soften his brother's wrath. For if he is blessed who turns aside from sin, surely he cannot be denied blessed who lightens another's fault and averts a crime. And so by voluntary exile he turned aside a parricide that was prepared, and by that deed sought safety for himself and bestowed innocence upon his brother. Deservedly, then, divine grace accompanied him everywhere, so that even when he slept he acquired the gift of the blessed life. For he saw the mysteries of things to come and heard divine oracles. A good laborer in sleep and rich in poverty, who by the service of a hireling's life procured both a patrimony and a marriage by the same office.

This same man, an excellent reconciler of brotherly affection, strove with gifts and acts of deference to shut out all indignation and to turn away the pain of offense, showing that he had not been made the less by exile, who could lavish what he had not received. But I am hastening too much to lower matters and running over things merely useful, when first it must be defined what 'blessed' is. For it is written:

'Blessed is the man who has not walked in the counsel of the ungodly, and has not stood in the way of sinners, and has not sat in the seat of pestilence' — Scripture thereby signifying that he is blessed who has either kept himself from the fellowship of the faithless (for this is impiety: not to acknowledge the Author of life and a certain Parent of salvation), or has not abided in sin, or has not persevered in luxury and wantonness. And it signifies that he too, meditating in the law of the Lord day and night, shall be like a tree that shall give its fruit in its season. The former are merits leading to rewards; this is the reward of merits.

Which of these things that pertain to the blessedness of merits was lacking to holy Jacob, who was so far from the fellowship of the ungodly that from him the faithful people received its name, being called Israel — because with the eyes of his inner mind he beheld God, abstaining from sin, sober from all the drunkenness of luxury, so that he swallowed up the hardships of labors and neglected the security of leisure? Was it not beautifully and truly said of him that he too 'shall give his fruit in its season,' of whom it is written: 'Behold, the smell of my son is as the smell of a full field'? For he was perfect in every flower of the virtues and breathed forth the grace of sacred blessing and heavenly blessedness.

For he himself is the field which the Lord blessed — not that earthly field, rough with woods, or broken with torrents, or marshy with sluggish waters, or barren of grain, or useless for vines, stony with still-unfruitful gravel, or cracked and dried up with drought, or soaked with blood, or untended and overgrown with brambles and thorns — but that field of which the Church says in the Song of Songs: 'I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, by the powers and strengths of the field.' For this is the field of which the Lord also says: 'And the beauty of the field is with me.'

In this field is found that grape which, when pressed, poured forth blood and washed the world; in this field is that fig tree, beneath which the saints shall rest, refreshed by the sweetness of spiritual grace; in this field is that fruitful olive, flowing with the ointment of the Lord's peace; in this field bloom the pomegranates, which cover their many fruits under the one safeguard of faith and cherish them in a certain embrace of charity. These fruits, then, did Jacob breathe forth, who followed God through dangers and believed himself everywhere safe under His guidance. For although the sweet and pleasant fragrance of the field belongs to it because it is the fragrance of nature, yet in the holy patriarch it was the grace of the virtues that breathed. How temperate was his thrift, who did not even crave the food prepared for himself,

but yielded it without delay to his brother who asked. From him he received the primacy of the blessing. How dutiful toward his parents, that he deserved by his mother's affection to be preferred to his elder brother and to be hallowed by the gift of his father's blessing! How religious, that he refused to wound his brother; how modest, that he feared to deceive his father; how honoring, that he could not refuse his mother what he was commanded! But neither must the parents be left unexcused by us, in that they preferred the younger son to the elder. At the same time, we must beware lest anyone, while attending to their example, hold an unjust judgment among his children, so as to think one to be loved and the other passed over. For from this brotherly hatreds are stirred up, and over the increase of vile money a parricidal crime is contrived.

Let the same measure of love cherish one's offspring. Yet grant that affection may seize something more around the more endearing or the more like child: the form of justice ought to be equal toward all. More is conferred on the beloved, for whom the love of his brothers is sought; but more is taken away from him who is burdened with the resentment of an unjust preference. Esau threatened that he would kill his brother, and neither brotherly kinship nor reverence for his parents recalled him from his parricidal fury; and he grieved that the blessing had been snatched from him, of which assuredly he ought to have proved himself worthy by gentleness, not by crime. But Rebecca too preferred not so much son to son as the just to the unjust. For with a devout mother the mystery outweighed the mere pledge of blood:

she was not so much preferring him to his brother as offering him to the Lord, whom she knew able to preserve the gift conferred on her. In this she was also taking thought for the other, whom she was withdrawing from a divine offense, lest he be entangled in a graver guilt, if he were to lose the grace of the blessing once received. Yet receive a good contest between the parents. Let the mother bring affection, the father judgment. Let the mother incline with tender devotion toward the younger; let the father preserve toward the elder the honor of nature. Let the one honor the more, the other love the more. While each cherishes one, let them not conspire against either, defrauding the other. Let there be equality amid diverse contests, and by unequal pursuits let grace be conferred equally on both by the equal love of the parents. Let the one make up for what the other diminishes.

Thus with devout affection did the patriarch Isaac and holy Rebecca contend, so as to make neither the inferior, but both equal. Yet he prevailed who was preferred by the oracle; promptness prevailed over slowness, gentleness over harshness. While the one sought rustic prey by rough hunting, this one ministered to his devout father foods of gentle manners, domestic grace, sweet feasts of tender meekness and piety. Whatever comes of its own accord pleases more in the affections than whatever you may have thought must be presented studiously. Jacob went to the sheep and brought the offspring of innocence, or rather the gifts of sacred prophecy; for he believed no food sweeter to the patriarch than Christ, who was led as a sheep to the slaughter and as a lamb to the sacrifice.

This food, profitable both for the parent in public office and for the people whose type he bore, he judged to be that whereby there was to be the remission of sins. Therefore he received the robe of his brother, because he excelled in aged wisdom; therefore the younger brother stripped the elder brother, because he shone forth in the dignity of faith. This robe, in a type of the Church, Rebecca brought forth and gave to her younger son — the robe of the Old Testament, the prophetic and priestly robe, that royal robe of David, the robe of Solomon, of the kings Hezekiah and Josiah — and gave it to the Christian people, who would know how to use the mantle received, since the people of the Jews had it without use and knew not their own adornments. This robe lay in shadow, set aside and neglected;

for it was darkened by the gloomy mist of impiety, nor could it be more amply unfolded in the narrow heart of the people. The Christian people put it on, and it shone forth. They illumined it with the clarity of their faith and with the light of devout deeds. Isaac recognized the familiar smell of his own kindred, recognized the robe of the old Scripture; but the voice of the old people he did not recognize, and therefore knew it to be changed. For the same robe remains even today, but the confession of the more devoted people has begun to be melodious; and he rightly said: 'The voice indeed is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau.' And he smelled the smell of the garments.

And perhaps this is the meaning: that we are justified not by works but by faith, since carnal infirmity is a hindrance to works, but the clarity of faith overshadows the error of deeds, and merits pardon for offenses. After the blessing had been celebrated, the elder brother afterward arrived. By this it is declared that the kingdom of the Church was conferred earlier than that of the Synagogue in predestination, but that the Synagogue entered in afterward, that sin might abound, and when sin had abounded, grace also might abound; and at the same time that it might be made clear that the candidate for the heavenly kingdom must be diligent, so that he may snatch the blessing first and claim the prerogative of his commendation. Hence the younger son was not censured by his father, but praised, in that Isaac said:

'Your brother came with guile and received your blessing.' For good is the guile where the seizure is irreproachable; and irreproachable is the seizure of piety, since 'from the days of John the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent seize it.' For the fathers, hastening, kept the Passover, who in haste ate the lamb, not lingering; and holy Joseph, by a contrivance of devout deception, summoned and held his brother Benjamin. And yet he himself, by compelling, drew out and obtained a blessing for himself to be blessed — but that blessing which should agree and accord with the former, namely, that he should serve his brother. For he who could not command and rule another ought to serve, that he might be ruled by the wiser.

For it was not the part of the holy patriarch to assign his son to the degenerate condition of servitude, but, like a good father who had two sons — the one intemperate, the other prudent and sober — to take counsel for both, he set the sober over the intemperate and ordained the foolish to obey the prudent; because the foolish cannot be a willing disciple of virtue nor persevere in zeal, since the fool 'is changed like the moon.' And deservedly he denied him the liberty of his own choice, lest like a ship in the waves he should drift without a helmsman. But he subjected him to his brother according to what is written: 'For the imprudent serves the prudent.' Rightly, then, did he subject him, that by the command of the one ruling he might better his own disposition. And therefore he says: