Works (City of God, On the Trinity, etc.) 43 part 2/5

Although even those who departed this life as catholics, and left something of Christian letters to posterity, have in certain places of their little works—either not being understood, or, such as human weakness is, being less able with the edge of the mind to penetrate the more hidden things, and straying from the truth by a likeness to the truth—been an occasion to the presumptuous and audacious for contriving and begetting some heresy. And this is no wonder, since even from the canonical letters themselves, where all things are most soundly spoken—not indeed by taking certain things otherwise than either the writer meant, or than the truth itself holds:

(for if this alone were the case, who would not gladly pardon human weakness, ready to be corrected?) but because what they perversely and wrongly opined, defending it obstinately with the fiercest animosity and stubborn arrogance, many have brought forth many pernicious dogmas, the unity of communion being cut asunder. All these things are to be treated by a modest conference with him who comes to the fellowship of the Christian people, not an idiot, as they say, but polished and refined by the books of the learned; only so much authority of instructing being assumed as to warn him to beware the errors of presumption, in so far as that humility which brought him is now perceived to allow.

But the rest, according to the rules of sound doctrine, whatever things are to be narrated or discussed, whether concerning faith, or concerning morals, or concerning temptations, are, by running over them in the manner I have said, all to be referred to that more surpassing way [1 Cor. xii. 31]. IX. 13. There are likewise certain ones coming from the most usual schools of the grammarians and orators, whom you would neither dare to number among the idiots, nor among those most learned men whose mind has been exercised in the questions of great matters.

To these therefore, who seem to excel other men in the art of speaking, when they come to become Christians, we ought to impart this something more than to those unlettered ones, namely, that they are diligently to be admonished that, being clothed with Christian humility, they may learn not to despise those whom they have come to know avoid the vices of morals rather than of words; and that they may not dare even to compare with a chaste heart a well-exercised tongue, which they had even been accustomed to prefer. But especially these are to be taught to listen to the divine Scriptures, lest solid eloquence be distasteful to them because it is not inflated;

nor let them think that the words or deeds of men wrapped up in carnal coverings, which are read in those books, are not to be unfolded and laid open in order to be understood, but are to be taken just as the letters sound; and concerning the very usefulness of that secrecy—whence they are also called mysteries—what force the recesses of enigmas have for sharpening the love of truth and shaking off the torpor of loathing, this is to be proved to such men by experience itself, when something which, set out openly, did not so move them, is dug out by the unravelling of some allegory. For to these it is most useful to know that meanings are to be preferred to words, just as the soul is preferred to the body.

From which it comes to pass that they ought so to prefer to hear truer rather than more eloquent discourses, just as they ought to prefer to have wiser rather than more handsome friends. Let them also know that there is no voice to the ears of God but the affection of the mind: thus indeed they will not mock, if they should perchance observe some prelates and ministers of the Church invoking God even with barbarisms and solecisms, or not understanding the very words which they pronounce, and dividing them confusedly. Not that these things are by no means to be corrected, so that the people may say Amen to that which it plainly understands: but nevertheless they are piously to be tolerated by those who have learned that, as speech is well pronounced in the forum, so vow is well pronounced in the church.

And so that eloquence of the forum, though sometimes perchance good speaking (dictio), can never yet be called good blessing (benedictio). But concerning the sacrament which they are about to receive, it suffices for the more prudent to hear what that thing signifies: but with the slower we must deal with somewhat more words and comparisons, lest they despise what they see. X. 14. Here perhaps you desire some example of a discourse, so that by the very work I may show you how these things which I have advised are to be done. This indeed I will do, as far as with the Lord's help I shall be able: but first I must speak, as I have promised, concerning the procuring of that cheerfulness.

For now, concerning the very precepts of unfolding the discourse in catechizing him who comes so as to become a Christian, I have, as far as seemed sufficient, discharged what I had promised. It is indeed a debt that I should also myself do, in this volume, that which I prescribe ought to be done. If therefore I shall have done it, it will avail for a heaping up (of the measure): but in what way can the heap be poured over by me, before I have fulfilled the measure of the debt? For I did not hear you complain chiefly of anything, except that your discourse seemed to you cheap and mean, when you were imbuing someone with the name of Christian. But this I know comes to pass not so much from a lack of the things which are to be said—for which I know you well enough prepared and instructed—nor of the speech itself, but from a weariness of mind;

either from that cause which I have mentioned, because that which we behold in silence with the mind delights and holds us more, and we are unwilling to be called away thence to the far different noise of words; or because even when the discourse is pleasant, we would rather hear or read those things which have been better said, and which are brought forth without our care and solicitude, than to fit sudden words to another's sense with an uncertain outcome—whether they may occur to match the thought, or whether they may be usefully received; or because those things which are instilled into the rude, inasmuch as they are most well known to us and no longer necessary to our advancement, it irks us most often to return to them, nor does the mind, now somewhat grown up, walk with any pleasure among things so customary and, as it were, childish.

An unmoved listener also produces weariness in the speaker (whether because he is not stirred by feeling, or because by no movement of his body does he show that he understands or that what is said pleases him) — not because it is fitting that we should be greedy for human praise, but because the things we minister are God's; and the more we love those to whom we speak, the more we desire that the things which are offered for their salvation should please them. But if this does not come about, we are saddened, and in the very course of our speaking we are weakened and broken, as though we were wasting our labour in vain.

Sometimes too, when we are called away from some task which we desire to be doing, and whose performance either delighted us or seemed to us more necessary, and we are compelled — whether by the command of one whom we do not wish to offend, or by the unavoidable insistence of certain persons — to catechize someone, we approach already disturbed a business that requires great tranquillity, grieving that we are neither permitted to keep the order of our actions as we wish, nor able to suffice for all. And so the discourse, proceeding from this very sadness, is less pleasing, because from the dryness of grief it flows less abundantly. Sometimes again, from some scandal, sorrow has beset the heart, and then someone says to us: 'Come, speak to this man, he wishes to become a Christian.'

For those who do not know what burns shut up within us say this to us; and if it is not fitting to disclose our feeling to them, we take up more grudgingly what they wish, and assuredly that discourse will be languid and unpleasant, driven through the seething and smoking vein of the heart. Therefore, for however many causes any one of these may cloud the serenity of our mind, remedies are to be sought according to God, by which that contraction may be loosened, and we may exult in fervour of spirit and rejoice in the tranquillity of a good work. For God loves a cheerful giver (2 Cor. 9:7).

For if the cause that saddens us is that the listener does not grasp our understanding — for descending, as it were, from a certain summit of it, we are compelled to linger in the slowness of syllables far below, and we take pains how, through long and winding circuits, that may issue from the mouth of the flesh which is imbibed by the swiftest draught of the mind, and because it comes forth very unlike itself, it wearies us to speak and we long to be silent — let us think what has been granted to us beforehand by Him who showed us an example, that we should follow His footsteps (1 Pet. 2:21). For however much our articulate voice differs from the liveliness of our understanding, far more different is the mortality of the flesh from the equality of God.

And yet, though He was in the same form, He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant (Phil. 2:7), and so on, even unto the death of the cross. For what reason, save because He became weak to the weak, that He might gain the weak? (1 Cor. 9:22). Hear His imitator elsewhere also saying: 'For whether we are beside ourselves, it is to God; or whether we are sober, it is for you. For the love of Christ constrains us, because we judge this, that one died for all' (2 Cor. 5:13–14). For how would he have been ready to be spent for their souls (2 Cor. 12:15), if it had irked him to bow down to their ears? Hence, then, he became a little one in our midst, like a nurse cherishing her children (1 Thess. 2:7).

For does it delight anyone, unless love invites, to murmur curtailed and maimed words? And yet men long to have infants, to whom they may show this; and it is sweeter to a mother to spit little chewed morsels into her small son's mouth than to chew and devour larger pieces herself. Let there not then depart from our heart even the thought of that hen (Matt. 23:37), which with drooping feathers covers her tender brood, and with broken voice calls her chirping chicks; whose caressing wings the proud, fleeing from them, become the prey of the birds of prey.

For if the understanding delights us in its most sincere inner recesses, let this also delight us to understand: how charity, the more devotedly it descends to the lowest things, the more robustly it returns to the innermost, through a good conscience of seeking nothing from those to whom it descends, save their everlasting salvation. XI. 16. But if we rather desire to read or hear the things that are already prepared and better expressed, and therefore are loath to adapt for the moment, with uncertain outcome, the words we speak: provided only the mind does not stray from the truth of things, it is easy that, if something in our words has offended the listener, we should learn from that very occasion how, when the matter is understood, it is to be despised if it could sound less perfectly or less properly — for it sounded thus only that the matter might be understood.

But if the effort of human weakness should even stray from the very truth of things — though in catechizing the unlearned, where the most beaten path is to be kept, this can hardly happen — nevertheless, lest perchance it happen that the listener be offended even from this, it ought not to seem to us to have happened for any other reason than that God willed to test us, whether we correct ourselves with placidity of mind, so as not to be plunged, in defence of our error, into a greater error. But if no one has told us of it, and it has remained entirely hidden both from us and from those who heard, there is no grief, provided it does not happen again.

But for the most part we ourselves, recalling what we have said, find fault with something, and we do not know how it was received when it was being said; and we grieve the more, when charity glows within us, if what was false was received with pleasure. And therefore, when opportunity is found, just as we reprove ourselves in silence, so care must be taken that even they be gradually corrected who have fallen into some falsehood — not through God's words, but plainly through ours. But if some, blinded by mad envy, rejoice that we have erred — whisperers, backbiters, hateful to God (Rom. 1:30) — let them furnish us with material for exercising patience together with mercy, since even the patience of God leads them to repentance.

For what is more detestable, and what more heaps up wrath against the day of wrath and of the revelation of the righteous judgment of God (Rom. 2:4–5), than to rejoice over another's evil, in likeness of and imitation of the devil? Sometimes too, even when all things are rightly and truly said, either something not understood, or something harsh by its very novelty, contrary to the opinion and habit of an old error, offends and disturbs the hearer. And if this becomes apparent, and he shows himself curable, he is to be healed without any delay by an abundance of authorities and reasons. But if the offence is silent and hidden, God's medicine can bring aid.

But if he recoils, and refuses to be cured, let that dominical example console us — He who, when men were offended at His word and fled from it as though it were hard, said even to those who remained: 'Do you also wish to go away?' (John 6:67). For it ought to be held fixed and immovable in the heart that captive Jerusalem is to be freed from the Babylon of this world when its times have run their course, and that none of her shall perish; for he who perishes was not of her. For the firm foundation of God stands, having this seal: 'The Lord knows those who are His; and let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity' (2 Tim. 2:19).

Thinking on these things, and calling upon the Lord in our heart, we shall fear less the uncertain outcomes of our discourse on account of the uncertain motions of our hearers, and the very endurance of troubles for a work of mercy will delight us, if we do not seek our own glory in it (John 7:18). For then indeed the work is good, when the intention of the one acting is launched from charity and, as though returning to its own place, comes to rest again in charity. But as for the reading that delights us, or some hearing of better eloquence — such that, wishing to prefer it to our own discourse in the delivery, we speak with sloth or weariness — it will receive us the more eagerly, and will be rendered the more pleasant, after the labour;

and with greater confidence we shall pray that God may speak to us as we wish, if we cheerfully accept that He should speak through us as we are able. Thus it comes about that for those who love God all things work together for good (Rom. 8:28). XII. 17. But now, if we are disgusted at often repeating the customary things suited to little ones, let us be attuned to them through brotherly, fatherly, and motherly love; and when we are joined to their heart, even to us these things will seem new. For so great is the power of a sympathizing soul's affection, that when they are affected as we speak and we as they learn, we dwell in one another; and thus both they, as it were, speak in us the things they hear, and we in some way learn in them the things we teach.

Does not this usually happen, when we show certain broad and beautiful places, whether of cities or of fields — which we ourselves, by often seeing, used to pass by without any pleasure — to those who had never seen them before, so that our own delight is renewed in the delight of their novelty? And the more so, the dearer they are; because through the bond of love, insofar as we are in them, so far do those things which were old become new even to us. But if in the contemplation of things we have made some progress, do we not wish those whom we love to rejoice and marvel when they behold the works of men's hands;

but we wish rather to lift them up to the very art or design of the maker, and thence to rise into admiration and praise of God the Creator of all, where is the most fruitful end of love. How much more, then, ought we to be delighted when men now approach to learn God Himself, for whose sake are to be learned whatever things are to be learned; and to be renewed in their newness, so that, if our accustomed preaching has grown colder, it may grow warm again through the unaccustomed hearing of them? To this is added, for the procuring of joy, that we think and consider from what death of error into the life of faith a man is passing over. And if we pass through the most familiar streets with kindly cheerfulness, when perchance we point out the way to someone who has laboured in wandering:

how much more eagerly and with greater joy ought we to walk through, in the doctrine of salvation, even those things which for our own sake it is not needful to unfold anew, when we lead a soul — pitiable and wearied by the errors of the world — along the paths of peace, at the command of Him who bestowed it upon us? XIII. 18. But in truth it is a great thing to persevere in speaking up to the appointed end, when we do not see the hearer moved: whether because he does not dare, being constrained by religious fear, to signify his approval by voice or by any movement of the body, or is held back by human modesty; or because he does not understand what is said, or despises it;

since indeed, as long as we do not discern his mind, it is uncertain, everything is to be tried by discourse that can avail to arouse him and, as it were, to draw him out of his hiding-places. For an excessive fear that hinders the declaration of his judgment must be driven off by gentle exhortation, and his modesty tempered by intimating brotherly fellowship, and it must be sought by questioning whether he understands, and confidence must be given, so that, if anything seems to him to be contradicted, he may bring it forth freely. It must also be asked of him whether he has ever heard these things before, and whether perhaps they do not move him as being known and commonly current;

and according to his answer we must act, so that either we speak more plainly and clearly, or refute the contrary opinion, or, as for the things that are known to him, we do not expound them at greater length but fold them together briefly, and choose some of those things which are said mystically in the holy books, and especially in the narration itself, so that by opening and revealing them our discourse may grow sweet. But if he is too dull, and is dense and averse to all such sweetness, he must be mercifully borne with, and, the rest being briefly run through, those things which are most necessary — concerning the unity of the Catholic Church, concerning temptations, concerning the Christian manner of life in view of the future judgment — must be terribly impressed upon him; and more must be said to God on his behalf than to him about God. 19.

It often also happens that one who at first was listening gladly, wearied either by hearing or by standing, no longer praising, opens his lips in yawning, and shows, even against his will, that he wishes to depart. When we perceive this, either we ought to renew his mind by saying something seasoned with becoming cheerfulness and apt to the matter in hand, or something exceedingly wonderful and amazing, or even something sorrowful and lamentable — and rather about himself, so that, pricked by concern for his own case, he may awake; yet in such a way as not to offend his modesty by any harshness, but rather to win him over by familiarity — or to relieve him by offering a seat; although without doubt it is better done, where it can decently be done, that he should sit and listen from the beginning;

and it is far more advisable that in certain churches across the sea not only the bishops sit as they speak to the people, but seats are also provided beneath the people themselves, lest anyone weaker, wearied by standing, be turned away from the most wholesome attention, or even be compelled to withdraw. And yet it makes a great difference whether someone from a great multitude withdraws to restore his strength, one who is already bound by the fellowship of the sacraments; and whether he departs — as often unavoidably presses upon him, lest, overcome by inward failing, he even fall — who is to be imbued with the first sacraments. For out of shame he does not say why he goes, and out of weakness he is not permitted to stand. I speak from experience:

for a certain rustic man did this, while I was catechizing him, from which I learned that great caution must be taken. For who would endure our arrogance, when we do not make our brother men — or even those who, with greater solicitude, are to be cared for that they may become our brothers — sit in our presence, whereas our Lord Himself, whom the angels attend, was listened to by a woman as she sat (Luke 10:39)? Certainly, if either the discourse is going to be brief, or the place is not suited for a sitting company, let them listen standing; but this when many are listening, and not when persons are then to be initiated. For when it is one, or two, or a few who have come precisely that they may become Christians, we speak dangerously to those who are standing.

Nevertheless, if we have already begun thus, then at least, when the hearer's weariness is noticed, a seat is to be offered — nay rather, he is by all means to be urged to sit — and something is to be said whereby he may be renewed, and whereby also any care that has perchance rushed in and begun to call him away may flee from his mind. For since the causes are uncertain why, now silent, he refuses to listen, let something be said to him, now seated, against the incidental thoughts of worldly affairs, either in a cheerful, as I have said, or in a sad manner: so that, if these are the very things that had occupied his mind, they may give way as though accused by name;

but if these are not the ones, and he is wearied by listening, then — speaking about them as though they were the very ones (since indeed we do not know) — we say something unexpected and extraordinary, in the manner I have described, and his attention is renewed from its weariness. But let it also be brief, especially because it is inserted out of order, lest the very medicine also increase the disease of loathing which we wish to relieve; and the rest must be hastened, and a nearer end must be promised and displayed. XIV. 20. But if the dismissal of another action, to which as though more necessary you were already held in suspense, has broken your spirit, and therefore, being sad, you catechize unpleasantly:

you ought to consider — apart from the fact that we know we must act mercifully in whatever we do with men, and out of the duty of most sincere charity — this, then, being set apart, that it is uncertain what we do more usefully, and what we might more opportunely either interrupt or altogether omit. For since we do not know of what sort the merits are, before God, of the men on whose behalf we act, we surmise rather than comprehend, by no conjecture or by the slightest and most uncertain conjecture, what is expedient for them at the time. Wherefore we ought indeed to order the things to be done according to our capacity; but if we have been able to carry them through in the manner we have determined, let us not rejoice on that account because it pleased us, but because it pleased God that they should be done so:

but if some necessity has arisen by which that order of ours is disturbed, let us bend easily, lest we be broken; so that he whom God has set over us may be our own. For it is more equitable that we should follow His will than that He should follow ours. Because even the order of things to be done, which we wish to keep by our own judgment, is surely to be approved where the more important things come first. Why then do we grieve that men are outstripped by the Lord God, so much more important, so that by that very thing whereby we love our own order, we desire to be disordered? For no one better orders what he is to do than he who is readier not to do what is forbidden by divine power than desirous to do what he contrives by human thought.

For many are the thoughts in the heart of a man, but the counsel of the Lord abides forever (Prov. 19:21). 21. But if the mind, disturbed by some scandal, is not able to bring forth a serene and pleasant discourse, so great ought charity to be toward those for whom Christ died — willing to redeem them by the price of His blood from the death of worldly errors — that this very thing which is announced to us in our sadness, namely that someone is at hand who desires to become a Christian, ought to avail for the consolation and dissolving of that sadness, just as the joys of gains are wont to soothe the grief of losses. For a scandal does not sadden us on anyone's account, save one whom we believe or see to perish, or the weak one through whom he perishes.

Therefore let the one who has come to be initiated, while it is hoped that he can make progress, wipe away the grief for the one who is failing. Because even if that fear is suggested, lest he become a proselyte who is a son of Gehenna (Matt. 23:15), while many such persons move before our eyes, from whom arise those scandals by which we are burned, this ought not to pertain to retarding us, but rather to arousing and sharpening us: namely, that we should warn the one whom we are instructing to beware of imitating those who are Christians not in truth itself but in name only; nor, moved by their crowd, either to wish to follow them, or to be unwilling to follow Christ on their account, or to be unwilling to be in the Church of God where they are, or to wish to be there such as they are.

And I know not how, in admonitions of this kind, the discourse is more ardent, to which present grief supplies fuel: so that we are not only not more sluggish, but by that very thing speak the more kindled and vehemently what, more secure, we would speak more coldly and slowly; and let us rejoice that occasion is given us where the motion of our mind may not pass without bearing fruit. 22. But if sadness over some fault or sin of ours takes hold of us, let us remember not only that a sacrifice to God is a contrite spirit (Ps. 51:17), but also this: that 'as water quenches fire, so almsgiving extinguishes sin' (Sir. 3:30). And, 'I desire mercy,' He says, 'rather than sacrifice' (Hos. 6:6).

As, therefore, if we were endangered by a fire, we would certainly run to water by which it could be extinguished, and would be glad if someone offered it from close by: so if from our own hay some flame of sin has arisen, and we are therefore disturbed, when occasion for a most merciful work is given, let us rejoice as though at a fountain offered to us, that thereby that which had blazed up may be suppressed. Unless perhaps we are so foolish as to think we should run more eagerly with bread, to fill the belly of the hungry, than with the true bread of God, to instruct the mind of the one eating it. To this is added, that if it merely profited to do this, but not to do it would do no harm, it would be unhappily in peril — not now of a neighbour's salvation, but of our own — that we should spurn the remedy offered.

But since from the mouth of the Lord it sounds so menacingly: 'Wicked and slothful servant, you should have given my money to the money-changers' (Matt. 25:26–27) — what madness is it at last that, because our sin distresses us, we should therefore again wish to sin, by not giving the Lord's money to one who wills and asks for it? By these and suchlike thoughts and considerations, once the fog of wearinesses is dispelled, the intention is fitted for catechizing, so that what bursts forth diligently and cheerfully from the abundance of charity may be sweetly imbibed. For these things not so much I to you as to us all speaks that very love which is poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who is given to us (Rom. 5:5). XV. 23.