駁阿波里拿留 第 1 章 第 5/7 段

...he does not regard it as something to be cast away; rather, just as, having come to be in flesh, he was not defiled, so also, having received the mind, he was not altered into mutability.

Again I shall take up the same argument, setting forth his statement word for word.

"Therefore," he says, "the human race is not saved by the taking-up of a mind and of a whole human being, but by the assuming of flesh, for which it is natural to be governed;"

"and it needed an immutable mind — one that would not fall subject to it through any weakness of understanding, but would fit it to himself without constraint."

Who does not know that what is in need is altogether different in nature from what is without need, and that what is naturally constituted to be governed is likewise distinct, according to the account of its essence, from that which by nature has the power to rule — just as the nature of irrational creatures was constituted to be subject to the hand of human beings, and man possesses his rule over irrational creatures not as something acquired, but as his own by nature? If, then, it is natural for the flesh to be governed, as Apollinarius says, and the divine is by nature that which governs, how does he, in granting this, at the same time determine that the two are one in nature from the beginning, when it is evident to everyone that the account of the subordinate is one thing, and that of the one who oversees is another; that what is naturally constituted to be led is one thing, and again that to which ruling belongs by nature is another? If, then, the nature of each of the two — I mean the flesh and the divinity — is observed in mutually opposite properties, how are the two natures one? And how does he fashion around the Word some divine and heavenly flesh — or rather, how does he turn the Word himself into flesh beforehand, not as one who, in the economy, in the last days took on our form, but as one who is this always, and always remains the same? For he who says that the flesh is in need of the immutable one, and requires a guide, is speaking, in plain fact, of our own flesh — the flesh that, because of the mutability of its nature, fell into sin.

But if, as he says, some supracelestial and divine body is contemplated in connection with the Word, then by the same consequence he attributes to it neither mutability at all nor need of one to guide it;

and this saying too is not our own but belongs to the divine voice, which said that those who are healthy have no need of a physician, but those who are ill.

For in heaven there is no sickness arising from sin; but it is we — we who have fallen sick with sin, we who have grown weak through admitting evil — it is we who, because we turned toward evil, had need of the immutable one; we who wandered from the way of salvation have come to need one to guide us toward the good.

So that, if the writer truly attests this concerning the flesh of the Lord — that it is naturally constituted to be governed and needs an immutable guide — then by this account he explains nothing other than our own composite nature.

But if he locates the divinity within the flesh, while the divine — so long as it is what it is called — has no need of another to guide it (for it does not admit of change and alteration toward the worse), then it is in vain that he has now patched together these statements concerning the flesh.

For if this [flesh] is in some sense divine, it is clear that it is also immutable;

but if it is mutable, it is certainly not divine.

Who, then, could work through this confused and incoherent myth of doctrines, which never stands fixed on the same ground, but, like the phantasms of dreams, appears now as one thing, now as another? At one moment he says that the flesh of the Word is divine and co-eternal; then again, that it is acquired and assumed; then, that it stands in a relation of estrangement to our nature — the passible and perishable nature; then again, that it is in need of a guide, and subject to the affection of change and alteration.

And for this reason he makes it [the flesh] without mind, so that it might be healed by the divinity — as though he regarded the mind as an obstacle to the divine care for humanity, and considered the mindless more pleasing to God.

Therefore he supposes it more blessed not to have a mind at all — if indeed, as this man says, God assumes the mindless.

Why then does he not also correct Solomon, who says:

"...guided to the harbor of the divine will."

If, then, man is saved in mindlessness, how will the man of understanding attain to good governance? To what, then, would the divine be more akin in nature? Toward what does reason suggest the divine nature is more fittingly disposed? The flesh is something thick and resistant, akin by kinship to the earthy nature, whereas the understanding is something intellectual, invisible, and formless.

Which of these would be found more akin, so as to be fitted together with God — the thick and earthy, or the intangible and formless? And how, as he says, is flesh unforcedly fitted to God, receiving a share of pure virtue? For who does not know that virtue is an achievement of moral choice? But the flesh is an instrument of moral choice, lying subject to the impulse of the understanding, being shifted toward whatever the one who moves it directs it.

And moral choice is nothing other than a certain mind and a disposition toward something.

If, then, he will say that man partakes of pure virtue in that which has no mind, what could it be that willingly receives virtue? Unless indeed the writer regards the compelled as though it were unforced.

For whenever the body comes to be outside of activities that accord with vice, without the mind consenting to the preferable inclination, what is accomplished will be the work of necessity, not of moral choice;

but he who chooses the good through the judgment of reasoning is superior to all necessity and force, having from himself the inclination toward what is better.

How then does the writer attribute "unforcedness" to that which has no moral choice — in which no reasoning of its own led the way toward the good? For that which is sinless not from moral choice is by no means praiseworthy either; otherwise we should likewise praise those who are restrained from wrongdoing by chains — those whom the chain, not their own resolve, keeps from the activity of evil.

"But," he says, "the divinity brings the flesh to itself unforcedly;"

clearly by "unforced" he means "voluntary."

How then could anyone be brought to virtue as a willing agent, without possessing a will of his own? For choosing, willing, selecting what is advantageous, and rejecting what is harmful — all these belong to the understanding;

but thinking/understanding does not belong to the mindless.

If, then, the flesh is joined to God without compulsion, it is testified by these words, through the writer, that the flesh is not without deliberate choice, nor does it relate to what is beneficial without judgment and consideration.

But no one could call such a thing irrationality.

For how could reason exist in what is irrational? So that, through what he himself says, he concedes not only that mind is present in the man, but that it even surpasses [that of] others.

For the voluntary and uncompelled impulse toward the good becomes testimony of the perfection of the mind.

And that the attachment toward the better belongs to the discursive intellect is shown especially through what is said next, which runs, word for word, as follows:

"For," he says, "since pure virtue is imparted to everything that is subject to mind..."

If, then, he sees the purity of virtue as residing in the mind, how does he banish mind from that flesh in which he perceives this purity? For his argument must necessarily have erred in one of two ways: either that virtue is something in which mind participates, or that the flesh which was brought to virtue without compulsion is without mind.

As for whatever he has added that is disjointed and inconsequential, I think it superfluous to examine closely, given its character.

"And to all who are made like Christ intellectually," he says, "and are not made unlike him in the flesh" — for what indeed does the sickening confusion of these words mean? Let the admirers of this deceit teach it themselves.

But let us proceed to what follows in his discourse.

"And if," he says, "God was joined to a man, perfect to perfect, there would be two: one Son of God by nature, and one by adoption."

I would gladly learn from those instructed in such matters — who call the man who is endowed with mind and complete a "son by adoption" — what then will they call the man without mind? (for that, presumably, is what they call the one who lacks mind). For the only-begotten God, being in himself complete and lacking nothing, holds the title "true Son," his nature confirming the appellation.

According to Apollinarius, [the complete man] is called an "adopted son"; and the half-complete man, insofar as he is man, will accordingly also be named a "half-adopted" son, having in himself only half of the title "adopted."

So that it would be more proper to say that the former is the complete adopted one, while the latter, according to the intention of those who mince up man with such divisions, is lacking a half or a third part.

But if it is unfitting for God to have an adopted son, then this unfittingness applies altogether equally, whether to the complete son or to the incomplete one.

And indeed the absurdity is even greater in the case of the mutilated one.

For if the complete human nature was thought to be something shameful and outside a conception befitting God when seen in connection with the divine, much more shameful would it be for a maimed nature to be seen in connection with him.

For it is not because mind is absent that the flesh thereby stands in close kinship with the nature of the Father; but rather, with respect to the Father's essence, in like manner...

Man, both as a whole and in part, is separated according to the principle of nature; and neither of the two elements within us, neither the mind nor the body, is akin, by the principle of essence, to the transcendent nature.

Even if this myth fashions around the divine some heavenly form of flesh, no one who reasons rightly will on that account agree that that flesh is consubstantial with God the Father.

But if the flesh is alien to the Father's essence, how could that which is alien be a son? For it is altogether necessary that what truly comes from someone be, in essence, what the begetter is.

But surely the Father is not flesh.

Nor then would that which is from him be flesh at all.

For that which is begotten of the Spirit is said to be spirit, and not flesh.

If, then, the flesh is not from the Father, it is not a son.

What then will it be named? For whatever name they may devise for that heavenly [flesh] fabricated by the writer, we shall accordingly apply that same name to the flesh assumed from mankind; and whatever name they give to ours, that heavenly flesh will be called by the same name.

The earthly [flesh] is not a son; then neither is that heavenly one at all.

The earthly [flesh] is an adopted son; then so is that heavenly one.

There is a pair of sons here; then there also, without fail.

There, the flesh and the deity are one son; so also here.

For since all creation stands equally apart from the divine essence, it is agreed alike that both the earthly and the heavenly [flesh] are outside the nature of the Father.

It remains, then, to think concerning God whatever accords with the purpose of his loving-kindness as the more reasonable view, and to devise for it no proper name of its own, but for it to be named jointly with whatever predominates and prevails, just as happens in the case of the sea.

For if someone casts a drop of vinegar into the sea, and the drop becomes sea, transformed together with the quality of the sea, so too the true Son and only-begotten God — the unapproachable light, the wisdom that is Life itself, and holiness and power and every exalted name and thought — this is what he who was manifested to mankind through flesh is.

And since the flesh, being flesh by its own nature, was transformed toward the sea of immortality — as the Apostle says, that "the mortal was swallowed up by life" — all that then appeared with respect to the flesh was also transformed together toward the divine and incorruptible nature.

Not weight, not form, not color, not resistance, not softness, not the circumscription according to quantity, nor anything else of what was then observed remains, since the mingling with the divine has raised the lowliness of the fleshly nature up into the divine properties.

So there is no danger at all that the doctrine of the Trinity should be widened for us into a Quaternity, as Apollinarius claims, nor that we should reduce the angels to servitude under man, as his myth alleges against us.

For those who bow themselves before the Master do not serve a man, nor are they ashamed to worship him who, through flesh, sojourned in the inhabited world.

For when [Scripture] brings the firstborn, it says, into the world, it says:

"And let all his angels worship him."

Now the one entrance into the world is through birth, and it is not possible to come to be within the life of mankind in any other way than by making use of this entrance.

Scripture calls his birth through flesh "entrance into the world."

If, then, all the angels worship him when he entered into the world, and the entrance is his birth through flesh, then it is not we who subject the Master's own possession to servitude, but rather the very nature of the angels does not fail to recognize its own transcendent Sovereign. So let him fall silent, ceasing to add to his argument those vain claims — that we make the things above into the things below, subjecting God-bearing angels to a God-bearing man.

"If he who receives God is true God, there would be many gods, since many receive God."

What then do we say to this? That "God was in Christ, reconciling the world to himself" — the great Paul is a sufficient witness to this.

But if the writer thinks that on this account a multitude of gods is being introduced by us into our proclamation — because we confess that in Christ God reconciles the world to himself, as though God were coming to be also in [other] human beings — we will answer thus:

If there were many virgin mothers, and if the mystery brought by Gabriel came to many, and if to each there came the descent of the Holy Spirit and the presence of the power of the Most High;

and if the prophets proclaimed this grace concerning many, so as to speak in the plural:

"children were born to us and sons were given to us," and "the virgins shall conceive," and the names of all those born are "Emmanuel"; if all walked upon the waves on foot, and by ineffable power fed so many thousands in the wilderness, multiplying by satiety the bread cultivated in the disciples' hands; if all raised the four-days'-dead out of their tombs; if all became lambs of God and were sacrificed as the Passover on our behalf, and nailed sin to the cross, and destroyed the dominion of death, and, before the eyes of the disciples, ran up into the heavens and sat at the right hand of the Father; if all shall come to judge the world in righteousness, and in the name of all the tongues of things heavenly, earthly, and under the earth make confession — then we shall grant that there are many gods, if indeed the many possess these marks.

But if there is one Lord Jesus, through whom are all things, and "from him and through him and to him are all things," and this enumeration of divine names applies to him alone, what danger is there that many gods should be fashioned, when we say that God has been manifested through ensouled flesh? For as to the fact that what appeared was man, who could be so unacquainted with the evangelical teachings as to be ignorant of what was said by the Savior himself to the Jews:

"But now you seek to kill me, a man who has spoken the truth to you"? Do you see, in these words, what the discourse indicated as being killed, when it said:

"You seek to kill me"? Not the truth, but the man, through whom the truth spoke.

For it was not [merely] man who spoke the truth.

But clearly, he who spoke was God, while the man mediated to men, by his own voice, what was said.

For this reason he is also called "mediator of God and men," inasmuch as human nature is not able to mingle, unmixed, with the fellowship of God, and therefore has need of a voice akin and natural to itself, through which it is fitting for the power from above to be received.

This too must be left aside, and the discourse must be turned to what follows.

"Nothing," he says, "is so united to God as the flesh that was assumed."

O what a carefully considered assertion of his!

Nothing is so united to God as the flesh — not goodness, not eternity, not incorruptibility, not the dominion over all things, nor any other of the conceptions befitting God — but all these are secondary to the flesh, in comparison with its union to God, and with the union of God to this flesh, the flesh that was newly acquired.

The writer himself confesses this very thing:

For by saying that it was "assumed," he indicated its being a later acquisition.

And this too we shall pass over, keeping silent about what follows, as it carries in itself the refutation of this incoherent myth-making and is harmless to its readers.

...to be united to the Lord in the manner that the assumed flesh has been united to him — since he added, in his conclusion, that whatever is not united in this way is not worshiped in this way either — he affixes yet another flourish:

"Nothing is so worthy of worship as the flesh of Christ."

These things, since even children can recognize their absurdity, we shall pass over in silence, along with their folly.

For even the children sitting and playing in the marketplaces could say that, if nothing is so worthy of worship as the flesh, then the flesh of Christ is more venerable than even the Father's own majesty, and than his almighty authority, and than his sovereignty over all things, and than whatever else our nature is capable of uttering concerning the divine power — so that, abandoning the worship of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, we should revere and worship only this flesh preferred by him above these, and place in it the dominion over all things.

Similar to what has already been dealt with is also the next argument:

"The flesh of the Lord," he says, "is worshiped, inasmuch as it is one person and one living being with him."

Having mentioned two things — the Lord, and the flesh of the Lord — he made the two into one living being.

Now he clearly reveals what was indicated in the title of his discourse, in which he professes to teach concerning the divine incarnation according to the likeness of man:

For since, when soul runs together with body, human life is constituted from the mixture and communion of these two things of different kinds, and one could define our constitution as nothing other than the communion of body and soul, the writer, having imagined this very thing also concerning the divine nature, immediately, in the very title of his discourse, professes to teach that, in the likeness of man, the divine too is beheld in flesh; and now, in this part of his discourse, he clearly establishes that the flesh and the Lord are one person and one living being — as if he were saying that the visible Paul is the same as the hidden Paul, on account of the connaturality of body with soul.

What need is there, then, to go on refuting and contending against what has been said? And how would one not accuse us of folly for taking a stand against such far-fetched notions? Let us, then, consider what comes next.

"If," he says, "no created thing is an object of worship together with the Lord, as his flesh is"—

who will act as umpire of the contest for first place in impiety, as Apollinarius competes against Eunomius? Who indeed will be judged worthy of the highest prize amid these sweat-soaked labors against the truth? Perhaps the victory on both sides will be left undecided, given over to their contested and evenly-matched impiety.

For the one, while calling the only-begotten God a creature, does not contend against his being an intellectual being and outside the resistant, corporeal nature;

but this one, having from the start refashioned him as composite out of natures of differing kinds, compacted together from flesh and deity, contrives him to be one living being after the likeness of human nature.

For the worship of a creature is equal in both cases;

but the one says that it is the intellectual and incorporeal nature that has been made;

whereas this one further adds that there is also a fleshly nature about the creature, and that this is worshiped more than the rest of created things—as though worship were also being offered to other created things, which even those who champion Eunomius's teachings confess to be impious.

Let him, then, hold the victory over Eunomius, and let him exult, adorning himself with the crowns of impiety;

for by as much as, in human nature, the body is inferior to the soul, by so much, among those who worship created things, the one who legislates that flesh be worshiped is more absurd in his doctrine of impiety than those who venerate an intellectual creature—and all the more so if he should also say that other created things are worshiped, of which the flesh, by comparison, has the greater share in worship.

"For," he says, "no created thing is worthy of worship as the flesh of the Lord is."

For all things alike, as many as are comprehended within creation, are beneath the divine power, whether they be incorporeal or possessed of body,

apart from the sensible and corporeal condition.

So that, insofar as both Eunomius and Apollinarius think it necessary to render worship to a created thing, they are evenly matched and contested in their doctrine of impiety;

but the one who assigns the first place to the flesh over the intellectual nature has the greater share in impiety.

Let the disciples of this deception hear against whom, and concerning what matters, their teacher's contest is being fought.

Let us also look at the next "unbreakable fetter"—to use the very phrase of the teacher of Apollinarius—which he sets forth, having bound it fast with the unbreakable chains of his syllogisms.

"If," he says, "someone supposes a man to be united to God beyond all men and angels,"

then it is necessary also to examine closely the meaning contained in these words.

But it would be like seeking a soul in a stone, or intelligence in a piece of wood, to look for any trace of thought in these stated words—I do not say of the better sort, but at least of the sort that contributes to impiety;

rather, the unintelligibility of what is said would be attested all the more clearly by the context.

"It will make angels and men not self-determining, just as the flesh too is not self-determining."

"And the corruption of a self-determining living being is not to be self-determining;"

"but nature is not corrupted by the one who made it;"

"therefore man is not united to God."

What unbreakable coils of syllogisms indeed!

Union with the divine, he says, takes away from men and angels their self-determination, and the corruption of a self-determining living being consists in its not being self-determining; and if these premises are granted, it is proved that man is not united to God.

What such thing do the ventriloquists prophesy, or those who speak as if from the earth, trained in oracles from the heart, that resembles this? "The self-determination of men and angels is taken away, if the human is united to God."

Was he not a man who said, "But now you seek to kill me, a man who has spoken to you the truth" [John 8:40]? Was he not commingled with the divine nature, who showed in himself all divine power, working with authority whatever he willed? If, then, this did not come to pass in him—the one in the other—let him repudiate the gospel testimony; and Paul will certainly be convicted of falsehood, and the prophets, and all who foretold beforehand the wonders concerning the Lord, and those who narrated what happened afterward.

But if this truly happened, and God was manifested in the flesh, and the flesh that was commingled with the divine nature became one with it, then, according to this poetic myth, self-determination has perished for human nature, and the angels have been enslaved, since this happened, robbed of the grace of self-determination.

Oh, what absurd novelty of speech!

And what a conclusion it is to say:

"The corruption of a self-determining living being is not to be self-determining."

Does he not, then, count the class of slaves among living beings, since it is not administered self-determiningly throughout life but is enslaved to the ruling power? For our word-crafter defines being a living being in terms of self-determination;

and whoever does not possess the self-ruling movement of the will, he legislates that such a one should not even be thought a living being.

Then that Canaan was dead, when because of his disorder he was enslaved to his brothers; dead was Abraham's servant; dead was Gehazi, the servant boy of Elisha; and in the times afterward, dead was Onesimus; dead were all the centurions who served.

And why do I say these things? All who are yoked under the authorities of rulers, in whom the self-determining will is hindered, are dead.

But also those to whom Paul gives the command to be subject to the governing authorities are certainly dead—even though they have souls—corrupted by the absence of self-determination and no longer able to be living beings.

For this is what Apollinarius's myth demands: that it yoke that lifeless flesh to the God who is over all—whether, that is, without soul, or without mind;

for the myth looks equally to both alternatives.

But that which is soulless is a corpse;

and that which is ensouled but without rational mind is a beast—which not even this man himself avoids as absurd, when he strips that flesh of self-determination;

But let these things too be set aside, and let us move on to what follows in the discourse.

I will state, in my own words, the sense of my opponent, for the sake of brevity.

He says that man consists of three parts—spirit, soul, and body—since the Apostle too teaches this doctrine in his letter to the Thessalonians; and he adduces this portion of the hymn of the three youths, "Bless [the Lord], spirits and souls of the righteous";

then he also says that we worship the Lord in spirit;

and he cites the voice of the gospel, by which we are taught that those who worship God must worship in spirit.

Having gone through these things, he adds that there is something besides this—the flesh that wars against the spirit;

and this he does not call soulless, so that by this it might be shown that the spirit is a third thing besides the soul and the body.

"If, then," he says, "man consists of three, and the Lord too is man, then the Lord too consists altogether of three—spirit, soul, and body."

In order, then, that his mistaken understanding of the divine Scriptures may become clear, we shall briefly go through each of the points he has stated.

And let us first examine the apostolic testimony.

For Paul, according to our understanding at least, does not write those words to the Thessalonians by dividing man into three parts, praying that they be entirely sanctified to the Lord, in body and soul and spirit;

rather, there is here a certain philosophy concerning one's manner of life in this world, more elevated in various degrees—not only here, but also in what he writes to the Corinthians.

For there he speaks of a certain "fleshly" man, and again another, "spiritual" man, and, between the two, the "soulish" man;

calling "fleshly" the one who is given to passion and materially minded, naming "spiritual" the one who is not weighed down by the dragging burden of the body but keeps his mind on lofty things, and calling "soulish" the one who is exactly neither of these but has fellowship with each.

But in saying these things, he does not mean that the fleshly man is deprived of the activity of mind or soul, nor does he show the spiritual man to be estranged from union with body and soul, nor does he suppose the soulish man to be either mindless or fleshless; rather, he assigns the names according to what predominates in each way of life.

For the one who judges all things and is judged by no one is both in the flesh and ensouled, and yet is called "spiritual";

and the one who raged with the passion of the flesh against his father's marriage-bed was neither soulless nor separated from rational thought;

and likewise the one who stands in the middle between what is praiseworthy and what is condemned partakes of both, having mind within himself and also being clothed with the nature of flesh.

But, as has been said, since the designation properly applies according to the visible marks of one's manner of life, those who are given to enjoyment and pleasure-loving, and passionately inclined to contentious rivalries, are called "fleshly";