Preface After I had published a certain little work as a specimen of meditating on the rational basis of faith, at the urging of the prayers of certain brethren—reasoning silently with myself in the person of one who investigates by inquiry things he does not know—considering that this was woven together by a chain of many arguments, I began to ask myself whether perhaps one single argument could be found which needed no other than itself alone to prove itself, and which alone would suffice to establish that God truly exists, and that he is the supreme good needing no other, and which all things need in order to exist and to be well, and whatever we believe concerning the divine substance.
When I turned my thought to this often and earnestly, and at times it seemed to me that what I was seeking could now be grasped, while at times it altogether escaped the keen edge of my mind: at last, in despair, I wished to cease, as from the inquiry into a thing which it was impossible to find. But when I wished to exclude that thought wholly from myself, lest by uselessly occupying my mind it should hinder me from other matters in which I could make progress: then more and more, as I was unwilling and warding it off, it began to press itself upon me with a certain importunity. When therefore on a certain day I was wearied by vehemently resisting its importunity, in the very conflict of my thoughts that which I had despaired of so presented itself that I eagerly embraced the thought which, anxious, I had been repelling.
Judging therefore that what I rejoiced to have found, if it were written down, would please some reader, I wrote the following little work concerning this very thing and concerning certain other matters, under the person of one striving to lift up his mind to the contemplation of God, and seeking to understand what he believes. And since I judged neither this nor the other, of which I made mention above, worthy of the name of a book or to have the name of an author prefixed to it, and yet thought they ought not to be sent forth without some title by which they might in some way invite anyone into whose hands they came to read them: I gave to each its own title, so that the former might be called Specimen of Meditating on the Rational Basis of Faith, and the latter, Faith Seeking Understanding.
But when both had now been transcribed by several persons with these titles, many compelled me, and especially the reverend archbishop of Lyons, Hugh by name, exercising the apostolic legation in Gaul, who commanded me this by apostolic authority, that I should prefix my name to them. And that this might be done more fittingly, the former I named indeed Monologion, that is, soliloquy, but the latter Proslogion, that is, address. 1 The rousing of the mind to the contemplation of God Come now, little man, flee for a while your occupations, hide yourself for a moment from your tumultuous thoughts. Cast off now your burdensome cares, and put aside your laborious distractions. Be free for a little while for God, and rest for a little while in him.
"Enter into the chamber" [Mt 6:6] of your mind, shut out everything except God and what helps you to seek him, and "with the door closed" [Mt 6:6] seek him. Say now, my whole "heart," say now to God: "I seek your face; your face, Lord, do I require" [Ps 26:8]. Come now, therefore, you, Lord my God, teach my heart where and how it may seek you, where and how it may find you. Lord, if you are not here, where shall I seek you, you who are absent? But if you are everywhere, why do I not see you present? But surely you dwell in "inaccessible light" [1 Tim 6:16]. And where is the inaccessible light? Or how shall I approach the inaccessible light? Or who shall lead me and bring me into it, that I may see you in it? Then by what signs, by what face shall I seek you?
Never have I seen you, O Lord my God; I have not known your face. What shall he do, O most high Lord, what shall this your distant exile do? What shall your servant do, anxious with love of you and "cast far from your face" [Ps 50:13]? He pants to see you, and your face is too far from him. He longs to approach you, and your dwelling is inaccessible. He desires to find you, and knows not your place. He yearns to seek you, and is ignorant of your countenance. Lord, you are my God and you are my Lord, and never have I seen you. You made me and remade me, and you have bestowed upon me all good things, and not yet do I know you. In short, I was made to see you, and I have not yet done that for which I was made. O wretched lot of man, when he has lost that for which he was made!
O hard and dire that fall! Alas, what did he lose and what did he find, what departed and what remained! He lost the blessedness for which he was made, and found the misery for which he was not made. That departed without which nothing is happy, and that remained which by itself is nothing but wretched. "Man ate then the bread of angels" [Ps 77:25], for which he now hungers; he eats now "the bread of sorrows" [Ps 126:2], which then he knew not. Alas the common mourning of men, the universal lament of the sons of Adam! He belched from fullness; we sigh from hunger. He abounded; we beg. He held happily and wretchedly forsook; we are in want unhappily and desire miserably. And alas, we remain empty!
Why did he not keep for us, when he easily could, that which we should so grievously lack? Why did he thus bar the light from us and cover us with darkness? To what end did he take away life from us and inflict death? Wretched ones, whence we are expelled, whither we are driven! Whence cast down, whither overwhelmed! From our fatherland into exile, from the vision of God into our blindness. From the joy of immortality into the bitterness and horror of death. O miserable change! From how great a good into how great an evil! Grave loss, grave grief, all grave! But alas, wretched me, one among the other wretched sons of Eve estranged from God! What did I begin, what did I accomplish? Whither was I tending, whither have I come? To what did I aspire, in what do I sigh? "I sought good things, and behold, trouble" [Ps 121:9; Jer 14:19]!
I was reaching toward God, and I struck against myself. I was seeking rest in my secret place, and "I found tribulation and grief" [Ps 114:3] in my inmost parts. I wished to laugh from the joy of my mind, and I am compelled to "roar from the groaning of my heart" [Ps 37:9]. Gladness was hoped for, and behold, whence sighs are thickened! And O "you, Lord, how long? How long, Lord, will you forget us, how long will you turn away your face from us"? When will you "look upon and hear" us? When will you "enlighten our eyes" and "show" [Ps 6:4; Ps 12:1-4] us "your face" [Ps 79:4,8]? When will you restore yourself to us? Look, Lord, hear, enlighten us, show us yourself. Restore yourself to us, that it may be well with us, without whom it is so ill with us.
Have mercy on our toils and efforts toward you, we who avail nothing without you. Invite us, "help" us [Ps 78:9]. I beseech you, Lord, that I may not despair by sighing, but breathe again by hoping. I beseech you, Lord, my heart is embittered by its desolation; sweeten it by your consolation. I beseech you, Lord, hungry I began to seek you; let me not cease fasting from you. Famished I drew near; let me not depart unfed. Poor I came to the rich, wretched to the merciful; let me not return empty and despised. And if "before I eat, I sigh" [Job 3:24], grant even after my sighs that which I may eat. Lord, bent down I can look only downward; raise me up, that I may be able to strain upward.
"My iniquities have gone over my head," they envelop me, "and like a heavy burden" [Ps 37:5] they weigh me down. Unwind me, unburden me, lest "the pit" of them "shut its mouth over me" [Ps 68:16]. Let it be permitted me to look up at your light, even from afar, even from the depth. Teach me to seek you, and show yourself to the one seeking; for I can neither seek you unless you teach, nor find unless you show yourself. Let me seek you in desiring, let me desire you in seeking. Let me find you in loving, let me love you in finding. I confess, Lord, and give thanks, that you created in me this "your image" [Gen 1:27], so that, mindful of you, I may think of you, may love you.
But it is so worn away by the attrition of vices, so darkened by the smoke of sins, that it cannot do that for which it was made, unless you renew and reform it. I do not attempt, Lord, to penetrate your height, for in no way do I compare my understanding to it; but I desire in some measure to understand your truth, which my heart believes and loves. For I do not seek to understand in order that I may believe, but I believe in order that I may understand. For this too I believe: that "unless I shall have believed, I shall not understand" [Is 7:9]. 2 That God truly exists Therefore, Lord, you who give understanding to faith, grant me to understand, as far as you know it to be expedient, that you exist as we believe, and that you are that which we believe. And indeed we believe you to be something than which nothing greater can be thought.
Is there then no such nature, since "the fool said in his heart: there is no God" [Ps 13:1; 52:1]? But surely that very same fool, when he hears this very thing which I say, namely 'something than which nothing greater can be thought,' understands what he hears; and what he understands is in his understanding, even if he does not understand that it exists. For it is one thing for a thing to be in the understanding, and another to understand that the thing exists. For when a painter beforehand thinks out what he is going to make, he has it indeed in his understanding, but he does not yet understand to exist what he has not yet made. But when he has already painted it, he both has it in his understanding and understands to exist what he has now made.
Therefore even the fool is convinced that there is at least in the understanding something than which nothing greater can be thought, because when he hears this, he understands it, and whatever is understood is in the understanding. And surely that than which a greater cannot be thought cannot be in the understanding alone. For if it is even in the understanding alone, it can be thought to be also in reality; which is greater. If therefore that than which a greater cannot be thought is in the understanding alone: that very thing than which a greater cannot be thought is one than which a greater can be thought. But surely this cannot be. There exists therefore beyond doubt something than which a greater cannot be thought, both in the understanding and in reality. 3 That it cannot be thought not to exist Which indeed so truly exists that it cannot even be thought not to exist.
For there can be thought to exist something which cannot be thought not to exist; which is greater than that which can be thought not to exist. Wherefore if that than which a greater cannot be thought can be thought not to exist: that very thing than which a greater cannot be thought is not that than which a greater cannot be thought; which cannot be consistent. So therefore there truly exists something than which a greater cannot be thought, so that it cannot even be thought not to exist. And this are you, O Lord our God. So therefore you truly exist, O Lord my God, so that you cannot even be thought not to exist. And rightly so. For if any mind could think something better than you, the creature would ascend above the Creator and would judge concerning the Creator; which is utterly absurd.
And indeed whatever is anything other than you alone can be thought not to exist. You alone therefore most truly of all, and therefore most of all, have being, because whatever else exists does not exist so truly, and therefore has less being. Why then "did the fool say in his heart: there is no God" [Ps 13:1; 52:1], when it is so plainly evident to a rational mind that you exist most of all? Why, except because he is stupid and foolish? 4 How the fool said in his heart what cannot be thought But how did he say in his heart what he could not think; or how could he not think what he said in his heart, since to say in the heart and to think are the same? But if truly—nay, because truly—he both thought, because he said in his heart, and did not say in his heart, because he could not think:
something is not said in the heart and thought in only one way. For a thing is thought in one way when the word signifying it is thought, in another way when that very thing which the thing is, is understood. In the former way, then, God can be thought not to exist, but in the latter way not at all. For no one who understands that which God is can think that God does not exist, although he may say these words in his heart, either with no signification at all or with some foreign signification. For God is that than which a greater cannot be thought. And whoever well understands this, surely understands that this very thing so exists that it cannot even in thought fail to exist. Whoever therefore understands God so to exist, cannot think him not to exist.
Thanks to you, good Lord, thanks to you, that what I previously believed by your giving, I now so understand by your enlightening, that, even if I should not wish to believe that you exist, I could not fail to understand it. 5 That God is whatever it is better to be than not to be: and that, existing alone through himself, he makes all other things from nothing What therefore are you, Lord God, than whom nothing greater can be thought? But what are you, except that which, as the highest of all, existing alone through itself, made all other things from nothing? For whatever is not this is less than can be thought. But this cannot be thought of you. What good, then, is lacking to the highest good, through which is every good? You are therefore just, truthful, blessed, and whatever it is better to be than not to be.
For it is better to be just than not just, blessed than not blessed. How God is perceptive, though He is not a body. Since it is better to be perceptive, omnipotent, merciful, and impassible than not to be these things: how art Thou perceptive, if Thou art not a body; or omnipotent, if Thou canst not do all things; or merciful and at the same time impassible? For if only corporeal things are capable of perceiving, since the senses are about a body and within a body, how art Thou perceptive, when Thou art not a body but the highest spirit, who is better than a body? But if to perceive is nothing other than to know, or is only directed toward knowing — for he who perceives knows according to the property of the senses, as colors through sight, flavors through taste —
then it is not improperly said that whatever in some manner knows, in some manner perceives. Therefore, Lord, although Thou art not a body, yet truly Thou art in the highest degree perceptive in that manner whereby Thou knowest all things in the highest degree, not in the manner whereby an animal knows through bodily sense. How God is omnipotent, although He cannot do many things. But how art Thou omnipotent, if Thou canst not do all things? Or if Thou canst not be corrupted, nor lie, nor make the true to be false, so that what has been done should not have been done, and many like things: how canst Thou do all things? Or is the power to do these things not power, but powerlessness? For he who can do these things can do what is not expedient for him and what he ought not. The more he is able to do them, the more adversity and perversity are able to prevail against him, and he the less against them.
He, therefore, who can do thus, can do so not by power but by powerlessness. For he is not said to be able because he himself has power, but because his powerlessness makes something else have power over him; or else it is said by some other manner of speech, just as many things are said improperly. As when we put 'to be' for 'not to be', and 'to do' for that which is 'not to do', or for 'to do nothing'. For we often say to one who denies that some thing exists: it is so, just as you say it to be; whereas it would more properly be said: it is not so, just as you say it not to be. Likewise we say: that man sits, as this one does; or: that man rests, as this one does; whereas 'to sit' is a certain not-doing, and 'to rest' is doing nothing.
Thus then, when one is said to have the power of doing or suffering what is not expedient for him or what he ought not, powerlessness is understood under the name of power; for the more he has this power, the more adversity and perversity have power over him, and he is the more powerless against them. Therefore, O Lord God, Thou art the more truly omnipotent precisely because Thou canst do nothing through powerlessness, and nothing can prevail against Thee. How God is at once merciful and impassible. But how art Thou at once merciful and impassible? For if Thou art impassible, Thou dost not suffer with others; if Thou dost not suffer with others, Thy heart is not made wretched out of compassion for the wretched, which is what it means to be merciful. But if Thou art not merciful, whence comes to the wretched such great consolation?
How then art Thou both merciful and not merciful, O Lord, except that Thou art merciful in respect of us and not merciful in respect of Thyself? For Thou art merciful according to our experience, and not merciful according to Thine own. Indeed, when Thou lookest upon us in our wretchedness, we feel the effect of mercy, but Thou dost not feel the affection of it. And so Thou art merciful, because Thou dost mercifully save and spare Thy sinners; and Thou art not merciful, because Thou art moved by no suffering of compassion for misery. How He who is wholly just and supremely just can spare the wicked, and how He justly has mercy on the wicked. But how dost Thou spare the wicked, if Thou art wholly just and supremely just? For how does one wholly and supremely just do anything not just? Or what justice is it to give eternal life to him who deserves eternal death?
Whence then, O good God, good to the good and to the wicked, whence comes to Thee the saving of the wicked, if this is not just, and Thou doest something not just? Or is it that, because Thy goodness is incomprehensible, this lies hidden in that "unapproachable light wherein Thou dwellest" [1 Tim 6:16]? Truly in the deepest and most secret place of Thy goodness lies hidden the source from which flows the river of Thy mercy. For though Thou art wholly and supremely just, yet for this very reason Thou art kind even to the wicked, because Thou art wholly and supremely good. For Thou wouldst be less good, if Thou wert kind to no wicked man. For he is better who is good both to the good and to the wicked, than he who is good only to the good. And He is better who is good to the wicked both by punishing and by sparing, than He who is good only by punishing.
For this reason therefore Thou art merciful, because Thou art wholly and supremely good. And whereas it may perhaps appear plain why Thou shouldst repay good to the good and evil to the wicked, this surely is wholly to be wondered at: why Thou, who art wholly just and lackest nothing, shouldst bestow good things upon the wicked and upon Thy guilty ones. O the depth of Thy goodness, O God! It is seen whence Thou art merciful, and yet it is not seen through. It is discerned whence the stream flows, and yet the source whence it is born is not perceived. For it is of the fulness of goodness that Thou art tender toward Thy sinners; and it lies hidden in the depth of goodness by what reason Thou art this. For though out of goodness Thou repayest good to the good and evil to the wicked, yet the principle of justice seems to demand this. But when Thou bestowest good upon the wicked:
it is known indeed that the supremely good One willed to do this, and yet it is a marvel why the supremely just One could will this. O mercy, out of how rich a sweetness and sweet richness thou flowest forth to us! O immensity of the goodness of God, with what affection art Thou to be loved by sinners! For the just Thou savest, with justice attending; but the wicked Thou deliverest, with justice condemning. The former by their merits helping, the latter by their merits resisting. The former by acknowledging the good things Thou hast given, the latter by pardoning the evil things Thou hast hated. O measureless goodness, which thus dost exceed all understanding, let that mercy come upon me which proceeds from Thy so great richness! Let that flow into me which flows forth from Thee. Spare through clemency, lest Thou take vengeance through justice.
For although it be hard to understand how Thy mercy is not absent from Thy justice, yet it is necessary to believe that what overflows from goodness — which is nothing without justice — is in no way contrary to it; nay, that it truly agrees with justice. Surely if Thou art merciful because Thou art supremely good, and Thou art not supremely good except because Thou art supremely just: then truly Thou art merciful for this very reason, that Thou art supremely just. Help me, just and merciful God, whose light I seek, help me that I may understand what I say. Truly therefore Thou art merciful for this reason. Is Thy mercy then born of Thy justice? Dost Thou then spare the wicked out of justice? If it is so, Lord, if it is so, teach me how it is so.
Is it because it is just that Thou shouldst be so good that Thou canst not be conceived better, and shouldst work so mightily that Thou canst not be thought of as more mighty? For what is more just than this? But this surely would not come about if Thou wert good only by repaying and not by sparing, and if Thou madest good men only out of those not good, and not also out of the wicked. In this way, then, it is just that Thou shouldst spare the wicked, and shouldst make good men out of the wicked. Finally, what is not done justly ought not to be done; and what ought not to be done is done unjustly. If, therefore, Thou hast mercy on the wicked unjustly, Thou oughtest not to have mercy; and if Thou oughtest not to have mercy, Thou hast mercy unjustly. But since it is wicked to say this, it is right to believe that Thou hast mercy on the wicked justly. How He justly punishes and justly spares the wicked. But it is just that Thou shouldst punish the wicked.
For what is more just than that the good should receive good and the wicked evil? How then is it both just that Thou shouldst punish the wicked, and just that Thou shouldst spare the wicked? Or dost Thou justly punish the wicked in one manner, and justly spare the wicked in another manner? For when Thou punishest the wicked, it is just, because it accords with their deserts; but when Thou sparest the wicked, it is just, not because it accords with their deserts, but because it befits Thy goodness. For in sparing the wicked Thou art just in respect of Thyself and not in respect of us, just as Thou art merciful in respect of us and not in respect of Thyself. For in saving us, whom Thou mightest justly destroy, just as Thou art merciful not because Thou feelest the affection but because we feel the effect, so Thou art just not because Thou renderest to us our due, but because Thou doest what befits Thee, the supremely good.
Thus then without contradiction Thou justly punishest and justly sparest. How all the ways of the Lord are mercy and truth, and yet the Lord is just in all His ways. But is it not also just, in respect of Thee, O Lord, that Thou shouldst punish the wicked? Surely it is just that Thou shouldst be so just that Thou canst not be conceived more just. And this Thou wouldst by no means be, if Thou didst render good only to the good and not evil to the wicked. For he is more just who repays to both the good and the wicked according to their deserts, than he who does so to the good alone. It is therefore just, in respect of Thee, O just and kindly God, both when Thou punishest and when Thou sparest. Truly therefore "all the ways of the Lord are mercy and truth", and yet "the Lord is just in all His ways" [Ps 25:10; 145:17]. And indeed without any contradiction;
for those whom Thou willest to punish, it is not just that they should be saved; and those whom Thou willest to spare, it is not just that they should be condemned. For that alone is just which Thou willest, and that not just which Thou willest not. Thus then Thy mercy is born of Thy justice, because it is just that Thou shouldst be so good that Thou art good even in sparing. And this is perhaps the reason why the supremely just One can will good things for the wicked. But even if it can in some way be grasped why Thou canst will to save the wicked: this surely can by no reasoning be comprehended — why, out of the like wicked, Thou savest these rather than those by Thy supreme goodness, and condemnest those rather than these by Thy supreme justice.
Thus then Thou art truly perceptive, omnipotent, merciful, and impassible, just as Thou art living, wise, good, blessed, eternal — and indeed it is better to be these than not to be. That God is the very life by which He lives, and so of like attributes. But surely whatever Thou art, Thou art not through anything other than through Thyself. Thou art therefore the very life by which Thou livest, and the wisdom by which Thou art wise, and the very goodness by which Thou art good to the good and to the wicked; and so it is with like attributes. How He alone is uncircumscribed and eternal, although other spirits are uncircumscribed and eternal. But everything that is in any way enclosed by place and time is less than that which no law of place or time constrains. Since therefore nothing is greater than Thou, no place or time confines Thee, but Thou art everywhere and always.
And because this can be said of Thee alone, Thou alone art uncircumscribed and eternal. How then are other spirits also said to be uncircumscribed and eternal? And indeed Thou alone art eternal, because Thou alone of all things, even as Thou dost not cease, so dost not begin to be. But how art Thou alone uncircumscribed? Is it that a created spirit, compared to Thee, is circumscribed, but compared to a body is uncircumscribed? Surely that is wholly circumscribed which, when it is somewhere as a whole, cannot at the same time be elsewhere; and this is seen only of corporeal things. But that is uncircumscribed which is at the same time everywhere as a whole; and this is understood of Thee alone. But that is at once circumscribed and uncircumscribed which, when it is somewhere as a whole, can at the same time be wholly elsewhere, yet not everywhere;
and this is recognized of created spirits. For if the soul were not whole in each member of its body, it would not perceive as a whole in each member. Thou therefore, O Lord, art in a singular way uncircumscribed and eternal, and yet other spirits also are uncircumscribed and eternal. How and why God is seen and not seen by those who seek Him. Hast thou found, O my soul, what thou wast seeking? Thou wast seeking God, and thou hast found Him to be a certain highest of all, than which nothing better can be conceived; and that this is life itself, light, wisdom, goodness, eternal blessedness and blessed eternity; and that this is everywhere and always. For if thou hast not found thy God:
how is He that which thou hast found, and that which thou hast understood Him to be with such sure truth and true certainty? But if thou hast indeed found Him: what is it that thou dost not perceive what thou hast found? Why does my soul not perceive Thee, O Lord God, if it has found Thee? Or has it not found Him whom it has found to be light and truth? For how did it understand this, except by seeing light and truth? Or could it understand anything at all of Thee, except through "Thy light and Thy truth" [Ps 43:3]? If, therefore, it saw light and truth, it saw Thee. If it did not see Thee, it saw neither light nor truth. Or is it both truth and light that it saw, and yet it has not yet seen Thee, because it saw Thee in some measure, but did not see Thee "as Thou art" [1 John 3:2]?
O Lord my God, my fashioner and re-fashioner, tell my desiring soul what else Thou art than that which it has seen, that it may purely see what it desires. It strains itself to see more, and sees nothing beyond what it has seen, save darkness; nay, it does not see "darkness, which is none in Thee" [1 John 1:5], but it sees that it can see no further because of its own darkness. Why is this, O Lord, why is this? Is its eye darkened by its own weakness, or beaten back by Thy splendor? Surely it is both darkened in itself and beaten back by Thee. Indeed it is both obscured by its own smallness and overwhelmed by Thy immensity. Truly it is both narrowed by its own straitness and overcome by Thy vastness. For how great is that light, from which flashes every truth that shines upon the rational mind!